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silverstonesainz-archive · 1 year

Text

ceilings

─── lovely to sit between comfort & chaos

pairing: carlos sainz x fem!reader warnings: alludes to sexual themes; google translate spanish

his touch is soft.

his fingers dance on your skin, gentle and never haste. he takes his time tracing every dip and curve. you like the way his touch feels against you, the way it spreads warmth and love all throughout you.

his voice is kind.

it is never loud in anger. his words are genuine, always sweet to you. it makes you feel whole, makes you feel like the only girl in the world. the roll of his tongue naturally, like honey dripping from his lips.

he loves with every nerve ending, shows it in all he does. whether it’s in what he says to your or how he holds you, it’s always love. he makes you feel secure while he paints a picture of your future together in your mind.

he is your dream come true, all yours.

your eyes slip open, sore from the light peeking through half closed blinds. the ceiling is plain, watching you wake up from a long night. you rub your eyes with the back of your hand before stretching them upward. soft snores are beside you, and you smile to yourself. you turn your head to find your boyfriend sleeping soundly, face half buried in the pillow with his arm slung over your torso. his lips are parted slightly, bottom lip plump and pink against the white sheets. he is golden, beautiful under the morning light. he twitches slightly, eyebrows furrowing for split second before relaxing. you turn slowly under his hold, admiring the way he looks in his slumber. peaceful, relaxed, like an angel. you didn’t want to touch, to disturb him. he’s like a piece of art in a museum, you were just there to admire.

carlos stirs not too long after, his snores quieting all too quickly and his hold on you suddenly tightening. he pulls you to him, your fronts nearly touching. he doesn’t open his eyes, just hums softly with his lips upturned.

“estás mirando fijamente.” you’re staring

his voice is thick with sleep, raspy and an octave lower than normal. you blush, a giddy smile on your face as you shake your head. he hums a little louder, more amused at the sound of your head moving against the pillow.

“te gusta lo que ves?” do you like what you see?

“si.”

he chuckles softly, finally showing you his amber brown eyes. his lids are still heavy, but he does his best to hold them open to look at you. it’s quiet as he studies your face, admires the way you look in his arms under the the sunlight peaking through the blinds.

“i forgot to close the curtains.” he finally says.

“that’s okay. you look pretty under this light anyways.”

carlos sits across from you quietly, fingers wrapping around the handle of his mug as he lifts its up to his lips. he sips his coffee quietly, fingers scrolling through whatever is on his screen. breakfast is quiet, comfortable. it’s hot coffee, waffles, and blueberries. he loves blueberries in the morning. he reads and you sit and watch, falling for the way his bottom lip is jutted outwards and the little crease between his thick brows. he pays no mind to you, just reading and sipping his coffee.

“quieres más café?” do you want more coffee?

he shakes his head, setting his now empty mug down. he clicks his phone lock and looks up at you across the table.

“estás muy lejos. ven aquí, cariño.” you’re so far away. come over here, lover.

carlos reaches for your hand on the table, tugging you gently off your seat. you cave easily, taking quick steps around the table and onto his lap. his hands wrap around your waist, holding you securely against him. you hook one arm around the back oh his neck, while your other hand rests on his jaw. quiet stares, sweet smiles, two lovers admiring the other. it’s a moment you would sear into your mind. the look in his eyes is unmistakeable, it’s love in it’s purest form. his eyes glow, they are accompanied by a toothy smile. his cheeks are round, rosy, nose leaning in to nudge yours. your heart skips a beat the close proximity, the way the ghost of his lips tickle yours. you try to close the space, but he leans his head back before you can kiss him.

you whine softly, “bésame.”

he chuckles, chest rumbling under your touch. he leans in again, nose nudging and lips hovering over yours. it’s still for a moment, his eyes flickering up and down to gage your reaction. neither of you breathe, not a single muscle moves.

you whine again, but he kisses you quiet this time. he tastes of coffee and mint toothpaste. carlos’s lips are soft against your own, they move slowly, sensually. it lights every single nerve ending of yours ablaze. one of his hands slide down your thigh, squeezing softly, while the other rests on the curve of your bum. you hold his face, pulling him even closer as you kiss him. his tongue is soft, gentle as it draws a line along your bottom lip, beckoning to be let in. your lips part, tongues dancing. nothing is urgent, no hurry, just enjoying the feeling kissing the other person.

there is no rush to peel clothes off the other, no rush to be as near as you could be. his touches— his movements— are slow. it’s an outpour of love, a reminder of how well he knows every tick and every move to quicken your pulse. your lips sing praises of him, his favorite song, saved for his ears only.

in a mess of sheets, clammy skin pressed against the other, you can’t help but stare at the man next you. his eyes are closed, lips parted, chest rising and falling as he pants softly. you press a kiss to his chest, and you feel him vibrate under you.

“te amo.” you mumble.

“te amo más.” he utters back.

“imposible.”

you grin, looking up at him. he cranes his neck, trying to get a view of you sprawled over him. his smile is your favorite thing in the world, the way it pulls your heart further and further into him.

“en qué estás pensando?” what are you thinking about?

you think of waking up to him in ten years. and in twenty years. thirty years too. you picture kids jumping into bed with you, and grandkids giggling all through out the house. you imagine carlos with salt and pepper hair, thick and long, crows feet and smile lines because he’s just so happy with the life he’s led.

you shake your head instead, “nada. solo estoy feliz.” nothing. i’m just happy.

carlos slips your shirt over your head, holding the shirt wide so you have room to slip your arms through the sleeves. lunch is an afterthought when he drives you through madrid with his hand on your thigh. the radio hums softly in the background, accompanying light hearted conversation. carlos talks, rambles on and on over something you don’t understand. he’d lift his hand off your thigh for a moment to make a gesture, because he always talks with his hand. but he’d always put it back like it belonged there. and he kisses you at red lights, between conversation. his tone fluctuates with excitement, giggles between rushed and stumbled words. you could listen to him forever. you want to listen to him forever.

there’s a park on the opposite side of town from where you stay. it’s small, but there’s a bench that faces the expanse of land, a perfect view to watch people move about their day while you sit idly by. you and carlos let the hours tick by, fingers intertwined and resting in your lap. you fill the air with stories, some of which he had missed while being on the road. you make him laugh every now and again. the kind that’s pitched, soft ha’s, with the bridge of his nose scrunched up because his smile is so wide. and every time he does, you look up at him. you wonder if he sees the same look in your eyes that you see in his. the same glow of adoration, the same warmth, a sense of welcoming and home.

there is a moment of quiet, when all the stories are shared and the laughter subsides. your head rests on his shoulder as the two of you watch kids run in the grass and couples stroll by. you watch the way the world pays no mind to two lovers who spend their time sitting in silence. the world keeps spinning, people keep walking, and you and carlos sit and watch it all.

dinner is takeout eaten at home. carlos complains while you pick at his sushi, but he makes no effort to stop you. and when dinner is done, you wash dishes quietly while he takes out the trash. it is domestic bliss as the two of you bring the house together, ready for you to whisk through it all over again tomorrow. you shower together. he scrubs your back with a loofa, and you rub suds on his chest. it’s intimate, sweet, chaste kisses between bubbles and water. he squeezes toothpaste from the middle of the tube, and you scold him for it.

he climbs into bed first, pulling back the covers for you to join him. he waits patiently, watching as you switch all the lights off, but leave the blinds open. the moon coats your room in blue, giving you enough light to find your way to bed. carlos pulls the covers over you, pulling you close so that your chest is against his own.

“te amo,” he whispers.

“will you tell me again in the morning?”

“siempre. por el resto de mi vida..” always. for the rest of my life.

his fingers comb through your hair, rubbing against your scalp. his scent, his touch, his soft hums lull you to sleep. it’s dreamless, dark, an endless world of empty. you feel your heart fall apart in your slumber. piece by piece, it breaks beneath your chest as you slowly slip back into your reality.

your eyes slip open, sore from the tears you shed the night before. the ceiling is plain, it mocks you and your dreams of a man who hasn't been in your bed in months. you squeeze your eyes shut, hoping that you could slip back into a false sense of security painted by your imagination. but you’re only met with darkness. your eyes spring open, tears blur your vision again. you cry softly, pulling the blanket up to your chin as you turn over in your empty bed. the curtains are drawn shut, not a sliver of the day behind it slipping through. you lay broken, crying quietly with your four walls and ceiling listening to the tune of your sadness. it’s a song you play all alone, lyrics written by the man who broke you.

you cry until your tears run dry and it’s just your soft whimpers. you liked crying sometimes, because if you’re lucky enough you are lulled back to sleep and into a world where carlos was still with you. it doesn’t happen this time though. instead you stare at the space once occupied by the man you loved, imagining he was still snoring softly beside you.

breakfast is at noon. it’s half drunk coffee and blueberries you push around with a fork. you don’t like blueberries all that much anymore. they were never your favorite to begin with, but you had yet to break the habit of buying them.

you sit on the couch until the sunsets, mind trying to piece together the dream you had the night before. you try to remember his smile, the way his eyes light up when they are looking at you. you try to hear his laughter, his soft voice while telling a story you can’t even recall. you desperately try to remember him, and it leaves you in a mess of tears. memories slip through your grasp, like grains of sand in a tightly wound fist. the tighter you hold, the more it slips away. you try to place the last touch, the last kiss, the last kind word, but nothing comes to you. it’s a mess of agony and heartbreak, with only the memory of the end of your relationship at the forefront of it all. it’s only touches that were sparse, words laced in regret, and the image of him walking away from you. nothing else seemed to take precedent, just a torturous nightmare playing over and over.

you slip into bed with curtains still drawn tightly after brushing your teeth. a tube of toothpaste squeezed in the middle rests by your sink.

your mind wanders to carlos, wondering how he moves on in the world while you lay idly by in your sadness. you stare at the ceiling and it stares back. it watches your pain, the way it’s etched itself into every nerve in your body. pain doesn’t become you, it dulls you down, but it is all consuming. it’s a weed that wraps around you, hides your from the world and keeps you in your wallowing.

tears fall down your face, breaths broken by your cries as you slip into another stream of sobs. you mourn your broken heart that lays in your chest, for a love lost and no longer yours. you cry at the ceiling, and it listens.

NOTE: this idea has been rotting away in my mind for a while and i finally found it in me to write it. semi based on ceilings by lizzy mcalpine bc i can't get the song out of my head. i hope you enjoyed this on & as always, feedback is always appreciated.

wanna be notified for new releases?

#carlos sainz #carlos sainz jr #carlos sainz x reader #carlos sainz one shot #carlos sainz imagine #carlos sainz angst #carlos sainz fanfic #carlos sainz jr x reader #carlos sainz jr one shot #carlos sainz jr imagine #carlos sainz jr angst #carlos sainz jr fanfic #sad song series #track 01

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sannyo-appreciation-posts · 5 months

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what are, in your opinion, the best ships involving Sannyo? I'm easily influenced by canon so I'd say mamizou is pretty good. i saw what you said about seiga and while it's true i hate seiga with a passion

[All art used is sited with the reliant link at the bottom]

Truth be told, I'm not much of a shipper personally, but I have a lot of fun seeing it from different people and thinking about where it comes from.

But this will be fun. So fun, that im going to take this thought way further than i need to. Hopefully I'll have a good number of ships by the time I'm done over analyzing this.

(I actually mentioned that about Seiga because its the only time I've ever seen that ship before, let alone seen any art for it, and was thinking up how it happened, it was cute art after all)

There's actually a much more common ship with a similar character chemistry pairing Sannyo with Yachie,

but this ship makes a bit more sense because not only is Sannyo a dragon fangirl, Yachie even looks a lot like her pipe. In fact, if you used her tail with its length in Touhou 19 you could probably even stretch Yachie into its exact shape, plus a bonus shell.

(A pretty fun mental picture)

Anyway, the over analysis starts here

______________________

Obligatory Disclaimer:

[Any Readers keep in mind, that even though I said you can think these up using canonical sources as a basis, that does not mean I'm claiming any of them are canonical relationships beyond possible friendships. There are also plenty of other ships that are possible with characters shes not likely to interact with that have just as much potential for cute dynamics]

Ships that can be thought up from the canonical sources.:

Well, first I'll do the ones from Lotus Eaters.

The easiest one to pick is definitely Mamizou. The entirety of Lotus Eaters Chapter 30 was more or less them having a fun and cheeky back and forth.

There is also Miyoi if you want to think of it that way since they are business partners and it's cute seeing her get both encouraged and picked on by Sannyo.

If you want to really be funny, and really stretch the imagination, you can joke about the Ponytailed Yamawaro with the surprising amount of screen time, since Sannyo helped her cool off when she was yelling, and more or less helped her when she was crying.

I mean look at that sad face

Those are the ones from Lotus Eaters.

Now Unconnected Marketeers gives us a few more things to build off of,

Sannyo has a funny back and forth with Sanae, and they both knew about each other before the incident, so that could be interesting.

(Though people can understandably find interactions with any protagonist to build off of if they see it that way)

The next one is since Sannyo lives at Heavens Shelf right beside rainbow dragon cave, Sannyo therefore lives very close by the dragon eater Momoyo too, which is definitely funny.

A surprisingly popular one is Sannyo with Misumaru, this one makes more sense then you might initially think, it comes from Sannyo's dialog implying she's been asked to keep humans out of rainbow dragon cave by someone. That person could only have been Misumaru. Idk how she'd have met her though. One particular artist really loves this ship

Misumaru doesn't technically live in the dragon cave but she definitely uses it sometimes and they both have some mentor energy going for them. My impression of Misumaru just from in game is she has some really proud but also no nonsense aspects to her personality. So it might be fun to see how she could interact with Sannyo.

For the same reason of being nearby, people could potentially ship her with Takane. She lives nearby the Yamawaro and they are both business ladies after all. I think the reason I haven't seen that one is Takane is a bit more hard professional and might not have as good of a back and forth with Sannyo. Especially when Takane has the far more obvious option of Nitori.

She lives nearby the Tengu too, so if someone decided that was enough to go on then they could ship her with any Tengu.

She even says "it's no wonder That Tengu has a high opinion of you" to Sanae.

[We can assume "That Tengu" is Megumu but people can definitely interpret that as someone else if they want. I think ive seen someone assume she was talking about Aya back during the Demo even]

Making it possible to have an argument for Megumu, Aya, Hatate, maybe even Momiji. But given Sannyo's : "you don't need to know about that......., actually i don't know either" flavor interactions with protagonists, it might be hilarious to see her interact with the Tengu.

Unfortunately there is no Sannyo x All Tengu picture to use so have the Megumu laugh Scene from Lotus Eaters:

Thats it for the ships you could extrapolate from UM interactions.

The last ship based on canon sources is Nemuno, they are different versions of the same Yokai species, Nemuno being a Yamanba, and Sannyo being a Yamajorou, a more outgoing version of the species. They both live in the mountains so it's possible for Sannyo to give her a visit if she wants, but Nemuno probably wouldn't travel too far personally.

In conclusion:

_________________________________

Finally I'll actually list my favorites:

My favorite ship though is easily with Mamizou. Mamizou and Sannyo had some really fun interactions.

Despite generally not often thinking about Misumaru, I've seen so much cute art of this ship on Pixiv that it makes me kinda like it. They do have compatible personalities so I can't say it's unreasonable.

I feel like she could have potential with Megumu. A Daitengu might be above Sannyo's metaphorical pay grade, but it could be fun. And they apparently are on speaking terms. Plus, you can read Megumu Iizunamaru as Dragon, and thats fun.

[But that's a tough sell, Megumu already is pretty cute with Chimata, has Tsukasa Mythology, and that great running dragon joke with Momoyo]

I think the mental picture of stretching Yachie out into a pipe shape might have sold me on that ship just now too.

So anyway, that's what I came up with for favorites.

Sannyo x Yachie art by: stank

Nemuno fish art by :0-DEN

Nemuno soy sauce by: atoki

Mamizou x Sannyo art by Biyon

#touhou project #question response #sannyo komakusa #I appreciate Seiga though. She's funny and a useful character type. But it's definitely unusual seeing her shipped outside the Taoists #I really need to learn how to do a short post #I also think the Mike and Sannyo being buds stuff is cute but idk if I've seen the art used in a “ship” type way yet. Just friends so far #I'm actually surprised a Yuuka x Sannyo hasn't appeared. Since they both love flowers and are popularly gap-moe #Sannyo komakusa shipping

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henrysglock · 2 years

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2022 Mike Wheeler 100% has custom icons (you know, the kind where you make a bookmark and add to home screen so you can set a picture instead?) and all of them are little digital doodles of the actual app icons that Will made for him.

He also had a slideshow of happy/goofy selfies of him and Will as his lock screen right up until he and El started dating. Will may or may not have been completely emotionally decimated when Mike's phone lit up on the couch next to him and he didn't see his own face smiling up at him. The selfie slideshow comes back in an updated form when Mike starts dating Will instead. Will has never been happier to see his own face in his life.

Anyway Mike has a widget on his home screen that's just a photo stack of Will's sketches across the years, and he swipes through it whenever he hits a bad mood during the day. He likes Will's newer art because it's objectively better, but Will's earlier pieces still hold a place in The Stack for sheer emotional value. There is at least one Warrior Cats OC from when Mike had his Warrior Cats phase (Will had been more of an Eragon kid himself. Yes, he designed his own dragon. Yes, Mike has a copy of that drawing in The Stack too).

Mike's laptop background is 100% the "you're the heart" painting. He set it immediately after Will airdropped it to him. Will watched him set the painting as his background. Yes, there was a "stretch to fit screen" vs "maintain image ratios" discussion. It was intense. Mike's background has two rectangles of black along either side so that the ratios of the painting don't get skewed (The Discussion went a little like this: "Okay but--Will, hear me out: if I fit to screen I can see it better! It'll be bigger!" vs "But Mike, it won't look right. It'll be squished!" and then they stared at each other for a few seconds before Mike caved and set up the black side chunks).

Mike's computer crashes once and he absolutely has a little freak-out thinking he lost all his saved art. It's after this that he invests in a small external hard drive. Will definitely pokes fun at him (with all the love in the world) about it when he finds out.

#byler #mike wheeler's love for will byers' art doesn't know the bounds of time #cringe4cringe

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discet · 2 years

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Ooh, remember that ask last month you had about "what if Marcy started out at Toad Tower?" One way I think Grime could get that book about positive reinforcement and leadership - he could get his hands on that if such a book from the library is in Marcy's backpack. Anyway, that ask has also made me want to ask: what's your interpretation on how things would go if Sasha landed in Wartwood and Anne landed in Newtopia in that scenario?

Yeah that might work. Marcy reading something like How to Make Friends and Influence People and Grime trying it as a 'This is so stupid, who really believes this garbage' would be pretty funny. Then using it on Marcy. Yeah I think you could get something going there.

As for Anne and Sasha, I know people have done these swaps before and probably put way more thought into them than I'm about to.

Anne: With Newtopia's more cosmopolitan nature and Andrias's willingness to indulge for obedience, I think Anne kind of goes full denial coping for her months in Newtopia. Recreating an approximation of her life on Earth while she waits for Sash and Marcy to find her in the capital. Andrias would insist on keeping the box in Newtopia and only allowing the girls to take the stones to recharge em.

Sasha: I think she would chafe under conditions in Wartwood. While her relationship with Grime in canon shows she is open to a mentor figure, I don't think there's anyone in Wartwood she would respect enough at first to allow that relationship in. Lets go through a few episodes to where I would change things

Beast of Wartwood: Few changes Ivy is the one who goes out looking for the beast since her and Felicia are going to be her Wartwood family. Also, Wally shows up with a black eye in his good eye after he hits Sasha with his accordian and she just decks him.

So Sasha just shows up in town one day, fighting the red mantis head on. Almost dies after her hunting stick breaks, but Ivy managed to distract the creature long enough for Sasha to live. Sasha then saves Ivy in return by killing the mantis. The townsfolk are scared and in awe, and Sasha capitalizes on this to ask for directions and supplies, basically daring them to try and mob her. Definitely think she takes a red mantis claw war-scythe as her weapon of choice to start.

Ivy offers the Sundew's Spare Room (Where Sasha and Grime stayed in canon when they came to Wartwood). Felicia is hesitant but doesn't refuse on account of Sasha saving Ivy.

(Why isn't she with the Plantars? I love the Plantars and in the context of awiw I can see Sasha having a better relationship than she did in canon, but I really don't see S1 Sasha vibing with them easily. She'd find Sprig grating, and Hop Pop high and mighty attitude insufferable. I'm sure others have done it well, but I also would like to explore Ivy more with an AU like this)

Best Fronds: So Marcy and Anne who were told 'It's suicide to try and brave the mountains this time of year' and both decide 'Well guess I'm stuck in this town for the next few months. Better get comfortable.' Sasha on the other hand hears that and goes 'Whatever, I bet I can handle it.' Takes what supplies she can gather and warm coat and just starts marching for the pass, followed in secret by Ivy who after a fight with her mom is on a 'Want to go out and see the world' kind of mood and vibes with Sasha super hard on that.

The two end up saving each other in the mountain but end up isolated in a cave after a blizzard in the pass gets worse. The two of them bond a bit, even as they start to come down with a cold. Sasha wraps Ivy in her coat so she doesn't become a popsicle (Gonna establish that while the instant hibernation is good for a day, longer stretches could be fatal for frogs.)

Both get woken up by some kind of horrible bear creature whose cave this is and Sasha is too sick to really fight effectively. Felicia ends up swooping in and saving the both of them with her kickass martial arts abilities, and drags them both back to the cafe to rest up and recover. Sasha has a new respect for both the dangers of this world and the person who took her in. Also accepts she is probably stuck here for the time being.

Dating Season: This is mostly focused on Ivy wanting to get closer with Sprig and Sasha just giving the worst most toxic advice. It's a trainwreck and an early wakeup call for her about how she's been treating her friends

Cafe Chaos: Sasha helps out Felicia with the cafe and suggests some earth-like changes to improve things, including live music, more drink options. An episode somewhere in between Lily Pad-Thai and Plantars last stand. I think things start to get out of hand when Sasha recruits Maddie to help with some of the crazier drink options.

Martial Artist: Episode of Sasha and Ivy getting Felicia to show them how she beat up the bear in best fronds and having to learn things the hard way.

Grubhog Day: Sasha convinces Ivy to play hooky with her for the day after Ivy expresses disappointment at having to miss the festival to help out a the cafe again. They have fun but Ivy gets in trouble with Felicia and Ivy gets annoyed at Sasha for it. Sasha is kind of blasse about it, basically telling Ivy not to worry about it (mirroring a flashback of a time Anne got in trouble with her parents for one of Sasha's plans) only Ivy isn't really taking it.

Tax Toads: At this point Sasha has been doing some big heroics around town and shuts down the toads as soon as they come to Felicia's cafe. Beats them into submission and drags their asses to Toadstool (who, man, Sasha does not care for). Demands to know where the tax money is and sends the tax toads with it and politely suggest they suck less at their job in the future. The ramifications of this will be obvious later

Prom Queen: Sasha runs for mayor just to belittle toadstool but ultimately ends up losing for similar reasons as Hop Pop in canon

Alright that's what I got just spitballing. Gonna go back to writing the new chapter of aAA

#Amphibia #Sasha Waybright #Sasha in Wartwood #swap au

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stealthnoodle · 1 year

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Ice Pond Thou Art, to Ice Pond Returneth: Let's Finish(?) Tears of the Kingdom

We're finishing the plot, anyway. All of the spoilers!

Sidequest clean-up time! I am getting up to such antics

Monster decorations: check

Freezing my tits off in the desert while holding up a giant mirror: check

House? check!

I'm sorry but I am literally 12 years old right now:

I wasn't going to chase after dragon!Zelda just yet but she appeared literally right in front of me so I figured I might as well hitch a ride on her and make Link sad.

Da-da-da-daaaa in a minor key:

For some reason I'd been assuming I couldn't dye my sexy thunder shawl but nope! What lovely news for me and fashion aficionados everywhere!

Puzzling with the Boner Squad

I'M STILL 12

A lot of people just come out around me! It's a gift.

Sure do!

Truly, no one can resist my charms.

Bitch I DELVED:

I know I said collecting all the bubbul gems would be my Cruella de Vil origin story, so call me Emma Stone because I have lost my entire goddamn mind. Fewer than 20 remain and Koltin is no longer offering me hints for some reason? Whatever, I'm not doing it for him anymore. I'm doing it for ME.

I have looked up a map of caves and I WILL spelunk each one, mark my words

Oh right we got some caves in the GODDAMN SKY, WHERE CAVES DON'T BELONG

I'm fine I'm fine

One more and the eye strain ends. Squinting from the map on my laptop to the in-game map on my TV. Oho, Death Mountain, I see you now!

FUCKEN GOT EM

Shine on, you crazy diamond bubbul gem. Maybe someday I'll smack you around for rupees. Until then, I will think of you and your completionist nightmare sidequest every time I glide through the air with my fancy new paraglider pattern.

Okay I can finish the plot now

I am doing this final stretch of mini-dungeon the way the goddess intended: by throwing down my traveler's medallion and popping back for more sundelion dishes before getting back to it.

At long last I have killed a lionel, and I started with a gloom lionel because why not. Bitch was in my way.

Me when the sun rises before 7:00am:

Let's see how many Ganon phases we get! Dueling Ganon. Big Hair Boner Squad Ganon. Big Hair One-on-One Ganon. Ganon Become Dragon.

Why does everyone but Link get to scarf down a tasty magatama treat? UNFAIR

At least I look good thrashing around between Ganon's giant dragon teeth:

Took me a second to realize what I was meant to be doing but this was a pleasantly cinematic fight phase with lots of catching little rides on Zelda's big fuzzy dragon head.

Game removed my good hat >:( but also removed my shirt :) so I feel like we're half on the same page.

Guess we're not getting an ending where Link joins Zelda on an eternal draconic frolic, which on the one hand, yes, my girl deserves a happy ending, but on the other, "dragon" is a whole new gender spectrum Link should get to explore.

Game ALSO removed my cool arm. :< Now how am I gonna remodel my house?

Grabbing Zelda as she falls would be a lot easier with Ultrahand, just sayin

At this point, is Zelda, like Marvin from Hitchhiker's Guide, older than the universe itself? My girl's been through it

My robot girlfriend is moving on to robot girlfriend heaven. This too is yuri.

And I am moving on to fucking around endlessly, but first, there's only one way I can end this, right?

Back to the ice pond, baby. I made myself a little blue cultist outfit and everything:

That's all, folks!

#stealthnoodle plays loz: tears of the kingdom #tears of the kingdom #totk spoilers #video #apologies to florence + that machine of hers #what a good game #my dreams will be haunted indefinitely by bubbul gems in hard to reach places #no i have still not figured out the actual purpose of the ice pond #no i will not look it up #yes i will probably throw myself into it again

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d-andilion · 2 years

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I posted 3,593 times in 2022

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Blogs I reblogged the most:

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I tagged 1,113 of my posts in 2022

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#yen - 30 posts

#my fic - 28 posts

#mine - 28 posts

#jaskier - 25 posts

#ask - 24 posts

#ciri - 23 posts

Longest Tag: 136 characters

#id love to say id never cave as an actress on my natural look but having bloodthirsty strangers after me every single day for having the

My Top Posts in 2022:

a change of plans

@witcher-bows-and-arrows day 6: confession

(geraskier, established relationship, tooth-rotting fluff, 474)

read on ao3

Jaskier rouses to the gentle brush lips on his bare shoulder and strong arms around his waist. He shifts, shoving his face further into his pillow and stretching his body from head to toe with a soft groan. He hears a familiar rumbling laugh in his ear, feels it through the firm chest pressed against his back.

“What are you doing here, Witcher?” he asks, his voice muffled by the pillow.

He isn’t complaining, of course. Waking up in Geralt’s arms is among Jaskier’s top-five favorite things, but the Witcher should have left for his contract hours ago. The only reason Jaskier agreed to sit this one out was because it involved getting up before dawn. It wasn’t anything interesting anyway, just a minor nuisance for the local farmers.

“Change of plans,” Geralt mutters. ”Taking care of it later.”

See the full post

211 notes - Posted February 9, 2022

magic word

@witcher-bows-and-arrows day 5: promise

(geraskier, friends to lovers, getting together, fluff and angst, 1.4k)

read on ao3

For a Witcher, there is no such thing as a guarantee. Geralt can’t say with any kind of certainty where each day will take him, not even from one hour to the next. A peaceful day of travel can turn on a silver mark to disaster. The path he walks is dangerous, unpredictable. It has only grown more so since Jaskier marched into his life.

The bard is a magnet for chaos. Half the Continent wants to murder him, and the other half just haven’t met him yet. Despite the admitted improvement to Geralt’s reputation, he finds himself chased out of towns about as often as he ever was; the only difference now is that he’s running from angry fathers and cuckolded spouses rather than bigots with pitchforks. He never knows when he’ll have to abandon his warm bed at an inn to save the bard from an impromptu execution, or if a hunt will go awry by Jaskier’s presence even though Geralt told him to stay at camp.

With an existence so marred by uncertainty as his, Geralt makes an effort to avoid making promises. The bard’s added complications should only make him more resolute in that regard. Yet, since he met Jaskier, Geralt finds himself making more promises than he has in his life.

The first one hardly counts as a promise. Jaskier has been following him around for a few weeks, and Geralt hasn’t abandoned him in the middle of the night for a reason he can’t pin down just yet.

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225 notes - Posted February 8, 2022

If you're looking for a prompt, can you do something inspired by that vlogger comic?

Congrats and hope you're having a wonderful day ❤️

(part 1/ part 2//)

i really did intend to do something super short but i should have known better than to think i’m capable of that lol

the art in question is this adorable modern au comic by @zellydoodle, definitely check it out!!

thank you so much for the prompt - enjoy <3

The next time Geralt sees his new neighbor, they’re both squeezed into their building’s tiny laundry room, neither of them looking their best. The only clean shirt Geralt had left was the lime green tank top Lambert gave him as a gag for his birthday a few years back and, based on Jaskier’s mismatched pink t-shirt and bright orange shorts, he’s on the last scraps of his own wardrobe.

Geralt had half a mind to turn around the moment he saw Jaskier loading a machine. Call him a coward, maybe he is, but being in close quarters with the cute guy from next door after the conversation he had with Lambert last week was the last thing he wanted.

‘Conversation’ is probably generous. It was really a string of incomprehensible key-smash texts and laughing emojis on Lambert’s side and pointed refusal to respond on Geralt’s. Somewhere in the middle of it all was a link to a YouTube video from a vlogger with almost a million subscribers. A vlogger who looked very, very familiar.

Geralt didn’t even need to watch it to know what it was about. The title said it all.

my neighbor is so hot :(

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288 notes - Posted July 22, 2022

GERASKIER FAKE DATING

sorry for yelling I'm excited

okay i took my time filling this one but i think the results are worth it - i hope you think so too 😊

Jaskier is, surprisingly, a very good boyfriend.

Though being around old school friends and distant relations must have tempted him to abandon his anti-social plus one, he’s hardly left Geralt’s side all day. He introduces Geralt to everyone who approaches them and takes the lead in every conversation to minimize how much Geralt has to talk to strangers. After every interaction, Jaskier leads them inconspicuously to the edge of the room for a welcome break from the buzz of the reception hall around them.

Of course, being a groomsman and brother to the bride means Jaskier has had to step away for round upon round of pictures, but he never goes far and he returns the second he’s able. The only point over the course of the entire wedding where Geralt has had to speak to someone by himself was just after the ceremony, and even then it was only Jaskier’s grandmother.

She was a sweet, stout old woman who smelled of the boiled sweets she pulled from her handbag every so often and popped into her mouth. She ambled up to Geralt the moment Jaskier stepped away, taking his arm as if she belonged there.

“Diedre,” she said. “But you call me Nan, everyone does.”

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289 notes - Posted July 29, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

so where did ciri's training outfit come from?

sure, the shirt and pants came from old clothing tailored to fit her, that all makes sense. but what about her little corset thing?? it's got to be custom made, it's clearly intended to support a young lady so she can run around the woods comfortably. i doubt strongly that they had that on hand and i doubt even further that ciri, a princess who has likely never had to so much as mend a sock, knew how to make it.

what i'm saying is a bunch of wolf witches + ciri hunched over a table of fabric trying to figure out how to make this thing. "the panels should go like this" "that's too much fabric" "how do the strings go?" "wELL YOU DO IT LAMBERT SINCE YOU'RE SUCH AN EXPERT" *various crashing noises*

i'm just seeing a lot of muscley guys crafting into the wee hours to get this kid a supportive garmet and i'm enjoying it a whole lot

749 notes - Posted January 13, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

#tumblr2022 #year in review #my 2022 tumblr year in review #your tumblr year in review

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sharp-teeth-and-archived · 2 years

Text

R.DR2 SPOILERS BELOW!

My muse is dead. Tell me how yours is dealing with it. / @wiiaca -- accepting

wiiaca asked : No one told her that the infamous Sean Macguire died in Rhodes. In fact, when Charles looked over his shoulder, Sokanon just happened to sway, arm stretched out in time to catch herself from falling over. He wanted to comfort her, but Arthur's voice forced his attention back to the gang gathered together by Dutch's tent.

She didn't hear him at all. Her chest feels like it's going to cave in on itself; every time she tried to breathe, she simply couldn't. A thick tingling sensation invaded her neck and arms, dread clutching at every fibre of her being. Sean Macguire is dead.

That boy, who she looked at as a SON, is dead.

Looking up, her eyes cut through the crowd, directly to Arthur Morgan. His lips instantly tightened and his head dipped, gaze hidden in the shadow of his damn hat. Silence hangs in the air. Did Dutch finally ran out of words to say? Then she spots a white hat in the crowd, white hat and black leather coat. Micah. Steel blue eyes as cold as ice. Almost sneering over them. It runs Soka's blood hot. No, no, she doesn't have enough energy for anger.

Heels twist as her back drags down the trunk, sitting in the dirt. Head hangs low, unblinking; eyes burn. Was she crying?

Sean Macguire is dead. Sean, the little bastard who she first met, she hanged by the ankles, ready to turn him in to get good money, just a scared little boy. Lips upturn for a moment as a noise escapes them. Fuck. Fuck. Underneath the bravado, she saw beneath a young man, ready to take the world for its splendour.

" m'sorry. " a voice breaks. deep, a somewhat southern drawl that belonged to none other than Morgan. Hell, she didn't even hear him. A brief glimpse and the camp seemed to resume their activities. Sun setting.

She adds, with as much poison in her voice she can muster, " Feels too quiet already. " /end.

Sean is Dead. How is Sokanon dealing with it. Not good. That meme prompt thingy lmao.

Sorry this took me so long to get to. I kept getting easily distracted. Anyways, I really need to make a dynamic tag for these two because of this masterpiece. I could really peer into Sokanon’s heads and thoughts and the shift fro the boy she had to string up and capture for her job to the boy she soon grew a fondness for is such a sad premise. I feel like with Sean’s trauma generally, it’s was a struggle for him to get close to Sokanon of their shared past, so when they finally grew closer and formed a friendship: it was quickly snuffed out by Sean’s death as it was starting to gain traction. *eyes emoji* and I wonder if she’s going to blame Micah for all of this? Anyways, thank you so much for writing this for me, Arte, this was a really wonderful read.

#asks #wiiaca #death mention tw #( ask to tag )#// long post #long post tw #long post #( 𝒘𝒂𝒏𝒕 𝒔𝒐𝒎𝒆 𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒌? ; asks (( Sean ))#( 𝒎𝒂𝒊𝒏 𝒗𝒆𝒓𝒔𝒆 ; Sean )#( ah another angst session on the dash )

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tunaverso · 1 year

Text

Hatchi Haru Chapter #2

Hatchi tangled her fingers together and pulled her hands up, stretching her back. She looked around, finally drifting her attention away from the laptop. Shiver and Buttercup, the other barista, were already packed up and ready to leave, only waiting for her. The Seashore Café was already closed and cleaned up, and Hatchi was still there, as usual.

- Want a ride home, sharkie? - Shiver asked, and Buttercup spun the keychain on their fingers.

- I wouldn’t mind, actually - Hatchi answered, putting the laptop back in her bag. - I have to save energy for swimming class tomorrow.

- How’s it going? You better work hard to impress the pretty teacher, huh - Shiver winked, making the shark’s face turn red.

- Aahm, uhh…. - Hatchi looked away - Doing fine I guess! I still can’t even think of leaving the float behind, but I’m making progress on tail swing. Margô said I’m doing well!

- Not so bad, huh? - Shiver said, passing by the door followed by Hatchi. Buttercup held it for them and then locked it, letting out a sigh.

- Busy day, Buttercup? - Hatchi changed subjects. The slender cat blinked, nodding a yes. Hatchi never heard their voice before, even after visiting the Café for so long. Shiver told her they were never pretty much of a speaker, but their voice got even rarer after Buttercup became a teenager.

The three of them got in the car. Hatchi’s house wasn’t too far from there, and soon enough she’d hit home, take a shower and head to play games… Oops, she shouldn’t, her class would start early in the morning. She needed to sleep well if she wanted to get Margô’s attention… in a good way. She always had her attention, but usually because she was either drowning or panicking. It was tough being afraid of water when she was a shark, especially considering the family she came from… Having a sibling who was a professional swimmer and all. Hatchi soon shook this thought out of her mind, focusing on answering her friends’ texts.

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😎🔥💎 Gaymerzz 💎🔥😎

Momoko Tsukiyo 🌈💘: yo hatchi, ur around? wanna play smt today? me and pony gurl made some progress on exploring the cave :]

Momoko Tsukiyo 🌈💘: I MEAN, not that we have been playing all day! i swear im working on the game art, just needed to take a break…….

Anime 🦄💞: Speak for yourself, Tsuki. I made good progress on Detective Softpaws’ background story before joining the server. Think I’ve seen you online for quite a while though…

Momoko Tsukiyo 🌈💘: mind ur own business, nerd 🙄🙄

Momoko Tsukiyo 🌈💘: im kidding girl be sure i love you xoxo

Hatchi rolled her eyes, in a playful manner.

Hatchi Haru 🦈💙: sorry guysss i was caught up coding again! my friends at the café said i didn’t stop tipping for three hours…

Hatchi Haru 🦈💙: i have swimming class tomorrow morning ugh….

Anime 🦄💞: At least you’re seeing your fishy crush ;)

Anime 🦄💞: Hehe

Hatchi Haru 🦈💙: ANIME O///////O

Momoko Tsukiyo 🌈💘: cmon hatchi stop being a sissy and play with us for a while!

Hatchi Haru 🦈💙: ok, ok, imma join the server for just half an hour…

Anime 🦄💞: Are you sure, dear? Won’t you be too tired tomorrow?

Hatchi Haru 🦈💙: nah, trust mama B)

Hatchi Haru 🦈💙: be joining you in 40 mins xoxo

Momoko Tsukiyo 🌈💘: waiting for u!

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The car stopped just as the shark put her phone back in the bag. Another day went by, and now it was time to chill.

🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊🌊

little update before heading to bed! weekends go by so fast, i wish i wrote more in the last days </3 anyways there's a whole week ahead and i'll have plenty of time :] hope you like it!

#hatchi haru

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1kook · 3 years

Note

jungkook + long distance relationship pls

it’s smut <3

The trickiest part is the time difference. It’s early evening for you when Jungkook calls, the window behind him showcasing a pitch black sky. As usual, he’s at his desk, phone propped in front of him and to the left, the glow of his computer screen illuminating his fair skin. He’s got on his pajamas, a sandy-colored set he treated himself with for his last birthday. “Hi, baby,” he smiles, voice low, matches the lights in the room. It’s enticing.

Fresh off work, you’re sore all over, completely worn out from the events of the day; the walking, the talking, the being. Jungkook’s silky voice is a nice break from your droning boss and chattering coworkers. “Hi,” you mumble, setting your phone and Jungkook aside as you strip yourself of your clothing. His usual wolf whistle doesn’t go unheard, sending a pleasant warmth over your cheeks. “What time is it for you?”

He hesitates to tell you — more than anything, the idea of Jungkook sacrificing a healthy sleep schedule in favor of speaking to you is probably the worst part — his eventual answer a muffled string of absolute gibberish that has you sending a frown his way. His pixelated face scrunches up cutely, smiling impishly at his phone, at you. “…3am,” he confesses, saves himself from your unimpressed glare by simply shutting his eyes. “I wanted to see you!”

Down to your undies, you settle at the edge of your bed, wary of laying down on your clean sheets. “And I want to see you,” you murmur. As frustrated as you were from the day, you couldn’t take it out on your handsome lover on screen. Jungkook’s sheepish smile is too sweet, makes you yearn for him like never before. Still. “But it’s late,” you sigh, “and you’re tired.”

His scoff is scratchy, a little choppy thanks to the long reception it travels over. “I’m not tired,” he says, but you’ve long since mastered the art of deciphering Jungkook’s expressions and physical state through the tiny pixels. “I just… really wanna see you.” His voice becomes laced with a dangerous proposition, his dark eyes glancing down the screen, not at your face, but at your body. “Can’t I see you?”

Biting your lip, you feel a rather juvenile wave of shyness wash over you, the arm not holding your phone up reaching over your chest. Your feeble attempt at covering yourself is met with a soft chuckle from Jungkook, who leans back in his seat. His thighs spread apart, and you catch sight of his dark briefs beneath the slightly translucent material of his pajamas. “Let me see you, baby,” he croons, teasingly running his hand over his thigh.

You cave too easily — it’s hard not to when your man looks like that — and slip the strap of your bra down your shoulder. A small action that makes big waves, wipes the smile off Jungkook’s face. The dying rays of the setting sun paint your room in a golden hue, embolden you with their comforting warmth as you snatch a pillow from the head of the bed. Propping your phone against it, you shuffle onto the bed anew, on your knees, acutely aware of the way your camera catches your entire form now. “Shit,” Jungkook mumbles, palming his growing erection. “You’re so hot.”

Watching him work his hand over himself, you find yourself mimicking his actions; after discarding your bra, your palms glide over your body, meeting at the mound between your thighs. You run your hand over yourself, the gentle pressure licking the flames of your desire. On your phone, Jungkook’s head lolls to the side, exposing the smooth column of his neck. It’s been months since you’ve last seen him, got to places kisses against his skin. You miss him dearly. “Can I touch?” you ask, voice airy. He’s so gorgeous, just the mere sight of him is enough to kick something hot up inside of you.

The glow of his monitor catches on his eyebrow piercing when he moves. “Please,” Jungkook exhales. His hand dips beneath the waistband at the front of his bottoms, eyes momentarily fluttering shut as he, presumably, grips his cock. You follow, hooking your finger beneath your panties and tugging them to the side. It’s a little embarrassing to see your tiny reflection on screen, and you find your thigh muscles threatening to jolt shut at the sight. “No, no,” Jungkook rushes out, jolting forward, closer. “Keep them open— please?”

He’s so sweet, polite, even with his hand down his pants. Steeling your nerves, you let yourself relax once more, sinking your knees into the mattress. The hand not holding aside your underwear snakes down, pointer finger dipping into the wetness that’s collected at your opening. A quiet gasp escapes you, glancing down at yourself in curiosity as you realize you’re wetter than you thought. Your run your finger through the warmth of your folds, drawing it back up to your clit. Slowly, you begin circling the swollen bud, gaze instinctively returning to your boyfriend.

Jungkook’s lips are slightly parted, eyes zeroed in on his phone as he watches you. It doesn’t feel as awkward and as nerve-wracking as it did the first few times. Now, Jungkook’s focused gaze feels empowering, in a sense, has you picking up the pace of your fingers against your clit as he watches. His hand works itself over his member, hidden beneath the fabric of his bottoms. “Jungkook,” you pant, slightly amused by the harsh jerk of his hand at the sound of your voice. “You, too,” you gasp, “let me see you, too.”

And just like you, he caves easily. Yanking his hand out of his pants, he makes quick work of pushing them down his hips. They stretch over his thighs, barely stand a chance against his bulging muscles when he spreads his legs. “Fuck,” he groans, melting into his seat as he tunes back into your show. His knuckles are nearly white, holding his cock tightly in an attempt to imitate the snugness of your cunt. The tip weeps with precum, trails down his length and over his knuckles the faster he pulls. It’s an image you burn into your mind.

Your gentle caresses turn into rabid rubbing, two— three fingers pressed together at the front of your slit, desperate to match the tune of Jungkook’s wrist. Unconsciously, your hips grind forward, the memories of Jungkook’s hot and heavy body against you spurring you on. His hands at your waist, digging into the skin until it’s painful. His breath against your damp skin, sending waves of shivers down your spine. “__,” he grunts, and although the lewd squelch of his hand is fuzzy over the line, your brain fills in the gaps. He always gets so sloppy toward the end, bucks into you like it’s his first time.

This time is no different. You watch as Jungkook unravels before you, his brows furrowed as he watches you move. “Fu— you’re so wet,” he chokes out, watching your fingers slid over your clit ferociously, his own speakers probably filled with the sounds of your pleasure just like yours are with his. “You’re always so wet after work,” Jungkook mumbles, running the pad of his thumb over his tip. It’s true, but you don’t want to tell him it’s because you think of him all day, imagining him bending you over your boss’s desk, the printer, a bathroom stall.

The motions of his hand speed up, jaw clenched as he works himself away. His name tumbles off your lips, gaze growing foggy as you watch the man before you; Jungkook’s breathing is shallow, harsh as he jerks himself to completion. The pressure at your core becomes unbearable and eventually, a shock of pleasure bursts over you, makes your toes curl, your clit go numb. Stuck in the motions, you can only weakly buck into your hand as your orgasm rolls over you, always careful to keep your face in Jungkook’s line of sight.

Jungkook follows, fills your bedroom with his strained breathing and a choked cry of your name. The pleasure renders him a limbless mess, head rolling back against his chair as he slumps further into his seat. His pearly cum leaves a splattered stain on his pajamas and on his thighs, cock still twitching as it pushes out the last of it. “Jungkook,” you call out softly, slowly regaining your strength. Your fingers begin to feel dry and icky, and it’s with a scrunch of your nose that you wipe them against your thigh. You needed a shower anyway.

On screen, your lover laughs. “God,” Jungkook exhales, eyes even more tired than before. “You’re so amazing.” You respond with an easy smile, languidly reaching forward to snatch up your phone. Jungkook’s face is flushed now, but the sky behind him remains as dark as it was when he first called. It matches the sky outside your own window, and you only have a moment to marvel at how quickly the sun set before Jungkook is speaking again, his voice soft and dainty as he talks you and him back down from your highs.

#jungkook smut #jeon jungkook smut #jungkook x reader smut #jeon jungkook x reader #jungkook x reader #jungkook fic #jungkook fanfic #jeon jungkook fanfic #jeon jungkook fic #bts smut #bts x reader #mine #jjkd

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firstbeachgoblin · 3 years

Note

Hey! I hope you’re well, can i request an imagine where reader is Embry’s imprint and they haven’t seen eachother in months because reader has a life she can’t just drop for him but she comes back when the pack is blowing up her phone ? Thank youu and don’t worry if you don’t write it, it’s fine!

Thank you for the request! It took a Long time But It's now complete with a total whopping 5k words!! Any way I hope you enjoy the fic.

I put it under the cut because it's so long but it's my brain baby at the moment lo.

Returning to you.

Embry Call x Reader

5058 words

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Most of my life has been spent in the Forks area so getting to travel to Europe for six months to see the art and culture was a dream come true. The past four months I’ve been travelling through Europe, starting in Greece and ending my trip in the Irish countryside.

The old art and architecture filled me with a joy that I could not get anywhere else in the world. The smells, sounds and sights all played their own part into the experience. I got to see the moon rise over Mount Olympus, the David by Michelangelo in the Vatican, tour through the Louvre, drink wine on the beaches of France and so much more. I’ve been living my best life.

It's been a dream to see the world, I've met so many new people and tried so much food. I’ve enjoyed every minute of my trip, but there was a part of me that longed for the beaches of La Push.

That part is Embry. Embry Call. My boyfriend, my pal, my love and my light. To me Embry is my everything and to him I’m his everything. That is one thing that has been made perfectly clear the past four months I’ve been away. Every day he’s told me he misses me and I know he means it, I’ve been told not just by him but also the rest of the pack.

Everyday I’ve woken up to ‘Good morning I miss you.” Sometimes he phones to tell me that he feels like he might die if I’m away for any longer. I always chuckle and tell him he will survive, it’s not like I’m going away forever; but that's what he feels like it is. This usually earns me a long winded whine from the other end of the line.

My phone buzzed against the smooth surface of the bedside table while Embry’s face flashed across my screen signalling that he’s calling. A smile graces my lips as I pick up the phone to be greeted with his loving voice.

“Hi (y/n)!! I miss you so much.” sadness was laced in his usual cheery greeting, it hurt my heart to be away from him but I would never trade this experience for anything. I’ve been planning this for years and I wasn’t going to pass up cheap plane tickets.

He filled me in on the pack's shenanigans, complaining about how they keep teasing him for being glued to his phone awaiting any updates I would send him. The later it got the heavier my eyelids seemed to feel, my speech started to slur with exhaustion of time zones while Embry continued to become more energetic with each passing minute.

“Em. . .” A yawn interrupted me mid sentence, a low whine emanated from the phone as he knew I would want to get to bed to have the energy for the long trip I’ll embark on tomorrow for Ireland, which is my last stop. I’d be spending the remaining two months of my trip in the lush countryside.

“I think I should get to sleep, I have a long day ahead of me tomorrow.” I mumbled into the phone.

“But (y/n)!” he dragged out. I knew he wanted to talk longer but I physically cannot do it. Even though Embry and I don’t live together officially yet, we’d talk into the early morning till one of us fell asleep.

“But (y/n) what?” I dragged out the ‘a’ matching his whine.

“I miss you and want you to come home.” I could hear him pause over line before he continued.

“Besides, sleeping isn’t the same without you.”

I ran my hand through my hair gently tugging on the roots easing the tension that’s built up over my trip. As much fun as I’ve had, he does have a point. Sleeping just isn’t the same without Em. My nights have been spent restless in beds that aren’t mine without the comforting touch of my boyfriend; but that doesn’t mean I can just drop everything and go back home.

“Em you know I can’t just pack everything and go home. . .” I looked at the painting that hung over the tv that sat opposite of my bed. A puppy-like whimper fell from his lips when he spoke again, his voice cracked like he was going to cry. It broke my heart hearing him upset.

“I-I know I just really miss you.”

“I know Embry I miss you too, but it’s only two more months then I’ll be home.”

We chatted for ten more minutes before I fell asleep on the phone. As much as I missed falling asleep in his warm embrace I can’t just fly back home, not yet at least.

The blaring of my alarm woke me from my slumber. The clock face read 6:02 a.m. taking everything within myself to peel back the blankets that encased me in their warm grip. I patted through the bed sheets to find my phone only to knock it onto the floor in the process.

My lock screen adorned a photo of Embry with icing smudged across his face from his birthday party but a swamp of text messages from the pack covered my favourite photo of him. Five texts from Leah, seven from Jake, nine texts from Paul, 12 texts and two missed calls from Sam and a whole group chat titled ‘(y/n) come home.’

The group chat kept pinging with the members of the pack who were still awake discussing the logistics of flying out to Ireland to take me back home. Was Embry really causing that much strife in the pack for them to create a group chat? Knowing him, it couldn’t be too far from the truth.

Leah and I call once a week to check in and make sure the other is doing okay since I left. It’s one of my favourite parts of the week being able to have a one on one with someone sensible. Every week she fills me in on Embry begrudgingly, she does it because she knows it makes me happy which I appreciate.

Reading through her texts she didn’t say much in regards to Em’s behaviour the only message relating to him was “come get your man child please, he’s getting snot on the floor.”

I listened through Sam’s voice mails which were begging me to come home, he informed me that once Em knew I was asleep he started moping around Emily’s house again for the fourth consecutive night in a row. This was news to me.

The texts entailed that Embry was becoming a pain on patrol and that Paul ‘couldn’t take another minute of the incessant whining.’ I told them the same thing I told Embry; I’m not dropping everything and rushing back home to sooth the wails of a love sick boy. There isn’t much I can do from across the ocean anyway.

I stretched my body and headed towards the bathroom to brush my teeth and shower before I had to leave for the airport.

I packed the few remaining things I left out to prepare for the flight and headed my way to the lobby to check out. I enjoyed travelling but I wasn’t going to miss sleeping in hotels and hostels.

Two weeks have passed since I touched down in Ireland and to say I’ve been having the time of my life is an understatement; I’ve been having a ball living my best life.

The land was capped in a luscious emerald green sea of grass that waved in the wind, the roads were lined with hand built stone walls that marked the division of farmers fields.

Sheep and cattle grazed in pastures, and old castles dotted the countryside. It was gorgeous. It was a view that I wanted to see again, a view I want to see with Embry.

It felt like time was flying by between sight seeing, trail hiking, museum tours and calls with Embry and Leah. It has already been a month. I had one more month before I was to jet set back to the U.S. and see my Embry.

One more month before I was back in La Push surrounded by the scent of sea water and trees with the looming threat of rain constantly overhead except in the summer. For two months of the year La Push was bright and sunny with the expected summer storms that happened.

I had fallen asleep on the phone with Embry again when I realized my phone was lost in the sea of sheets as it buzzed with an incoming phone call.

I couldn’t find it until the call had gone to voicemail and my phone landed on the ground when I gave up and ripped the blankets off of the bed but whoever called must have felt it was really important. Picking up my phone the most unflattering photo of Jacob was plastered on the screen, his name in white.

“Hello?” I asked groggily into the phone, rubbing the sleep from my eyes. I looked over at the clock which said in bold red numbers 1 am.

“Hey (y/n)! You sound like you just woke up.” I heard him chortle from the other end.

“That’s because I just woke up Jake, it’s one in the morning.” a yawn escaped my lips, I know I’ll have a rough time getting over jet lag when I go home.

He occupied twenty minutes with idle chatter and borderline interrogation about all the sights I’ve seen before I asked him why he was calling me so early in the morning

“Embry has spent the week at my house, you need to come home there’s nothing we can do anymore to occupy him till you return.” He sighed, Jake knows I want to finish my trip but we made a deal that I would come home early if there were absolutely no options left to keep Embry from sending the pack into hysterics.

I knew he was buttering me up for something.

“Are you sure you can’t figure something out? It’s just another month!”

“Another month of him eating my cereal and getting dirt on me from my dad!”

I snorted with laughter at the fact that Billy was telling Embry every embarrassing detail from his childhood.

“Jake please just let me think about it okay?” I sighed, flopping back into my hollowed cave of blankets and sheets.

“Okay, I’ll let you think about it but don’t think I won’t be telling Sam.” he warned.

We laughed together and he wished me a good night before hanging up the phone, before I slipped back into slumber I sent Jake one more text.

‘You wake me up at one in the morning again and it’s over for you.’ in which he responded with ‘Oh no I’m so scared lol.’

I reached over to the bedside table and plugged my phone in before the sweet embrace of warmth and slumber took over my senses.

The next three days I was bombarded with texts from Paul whining about the wolf mind link and how every patrol shift he had with Embry was spent tuning out his constant thoughts of me.

Standing in the shower with hot water running over my skin soothing my tense muscles I heard my phone buzz against the granite countertop. I rolled my eyes and continued to bask in the endless hotel hot water.

As bad as staying in hotels could be, the hot water made up for the early breakfast and sheets that were tucked in a little too tightly.

I had shampoo in my hair when my phone started buzzing again, this time with a call. I grumbled under the stream of water washing away the soap before it could get in my eyes; whoever's calling can wait.

I moved on to conditioning my hair, letting it sit while I wash the rest of my body with a lightly scented lavender soap.

I refused to use the complimentary soap because it dried out my skin and the lotion just left me feeling sticky instead of moisturized.

Watching the soap run down the drain my phone rang again, I clenched my fists, who could possibly be calling me now? I still refused to get out of my steamy heaven to answer my phone.

My gut told me that whoever was calling wouldn’t let up until I answered. I washed out the conditioner from my hair and wrapped it in a towel.

The mirror was coated in a layer of steam, the tiles were cool against my feet. I wrapped the plush towel around my body, mopping up the droplets of water that remained.

My phone started vibrating with rapid fire text messages from the pack’s group chat they made a month ago. I sighed, picking it up to sift through the messages. I read a message from Jared telling me he’d pay me to return.

The pack always made me laugh, together they’re a walking sitcom. There is never a dull moment with them, someone always had something witty or sarcastic to say.

I checked to see who had called me and it turned out it was Sam, I listened to his voice mails and immediately phoned him back.

As soon as I hit the call button it only rang for half a second before he picked up.

“Thank you for calling back, I thought I’d have to call two more times.” he chuckled.

“Well I was in the middle of a shower, can’t really take a call there.” I moved through the room with my phone pressed between my shoulder and cheek. Stopping at my suitcase to pick out what I was going to wear for the day.

“I’m going to be frank with you, I need you to come home. . .” I let out a huff before he continued.

“Embry needs you badly, he’s just a pile of mush on the floor now. It’s a chore to get him up to go on patrol. Please?”

“Fine, I’ll see what I can do Sam, I’ll try to book a flight for the earliest date I can find.” I knew I was giving in but from what they were telling me and the constant texts were getting to be difficult to manage.

“Thank you, when you get back I’ll buy you take out for a month okay?”

“I hate that you know what my weakness is.” I laughed through the phone, a month of free take out? Hell yeah. It made the prospect of going back a little brighter since I wasn’t going to complete the rest of my trip.

I wasn’t losing out on too much though, I had seen and done everything that I wanted. It wouldn’t be too bad to go home early.

We talked for a couple more minutes before parting ways, I threw my phone on the bed and watched it bounce a couple times before turning my attention back to getting dressed. Since I had a flight to book it was okay to spend the rest of the day lounging in pj’s.

The soft fabric of my pj’s brushed against my skin as I jumped into bed with my computer in hand, and now it was time to book a flight back home. Maybe text Paul and tell him he can quit complaining as well.

I woke up the next morning with my flight booked for take off in the afternoon and my daily good morning text from Embry. I felt a little sad to be leaving such a beautiful country but the trees, ocean and Embry all called my name.

Pacing through the room I grabbed the comfiest set of clothes I packed for my return flight back to Seattle, I had enough time to sleep on the plane to be conscious enough for the three and a half hour drive back to La Push.

I was set for a long day ahead of me but it was going to be worth it in the end, seeing the bright and happy face of my boyfriend, getting to hug him and kiss him again.

I made one last check of the room before I gathered my clothes and toiletry kit and made my way into the bathroom to shower before my long flight. As I was stepping into the shower my phone pinged from the counter with a text from Sam.

“Have you booked that flight yet?” it read.

“Yeah I’m due for take off at 1. I should be back in La Push some time tomorrow!”

My fingers brushed the cool surface of the counter top as I put my phone back and got into the shower, hot water immediately running down my back; this time my phone wasn’t being blown up by a desperate wolf pack trying to get my attention.

I can’t sit in the shower for hours on end this time, I have a flight to catch and a boy to surprise. Embry was currently still under the impression that I would be coming home in two weeks. Boy would he be in for a surprise.

The residual steam wafted out of the bathroom while I brushed my teeth revealing my towel wrapped body and hair in the mirror behind the skin. I checked the time and noted that I had two hours to check out, make my way to the airport, and check into my flight back home. Two more hours before I could smell the trees and ocean, two more hours before I could see my friends and hug Embry.

The time managed to move by in a blur by the time I was shutting the trunk of the yellow cab that was going to drop me off at the airport. I got into the back seat and the driver peeled away from the hotel front onto the winding roads.

“Aye where are you headin’?” The driver inquired in a thick Irish accent.

One thing I noticed in my stay here was that the accent changed in every town or village I passed through. It added to the charm

“Well, I’m on my way home after spending six months in Europe.” My eyes scanned over the green hills that rushed past in a blur.

“My favourite places I’ve been have definitely been Ireland and Greece.” I smiled towards him.

The lines around his eyes crinkled with the smile that graced his face at the mention of Ireland.

“Well that’s good to hear innit? Glad you’ve enjoyed your stay. We welcome ya with open arms if you return.”

We held a light conversation until we arrived in front of the drop off area for passengers, thanked him and grabbed my bags before heading into the crowded lobby.

The front of the terminal was metal and glass that reached towards the heavens with automatic doors gaping open like a mouth. Inside was a dull white with light grey floor which my shoes clicked against with each step.

It was packed with people like a can of sardines, I weaved my way through the masses towards the check in desk which thankfully only had a short line to get through.

Under the mix of fluorescents and natural light the desk lady’s bags that donned under her eyes glared with visible exhaustion from the mass amounts of people that swarmed the terminal.

Despite her clear drowsiness she still greeted me with a warm smile and a soft hello.

I grabbed my ticket and thanked her then turned and pushed myself through to the security check, dropped my luggage off and took a seat to wait for the boarding call for my flight.

As I waited grey clouds started to fill the sky blocking out the little sun that was once shining in its place.

My eyes grew heavier by each minute that passed, waiting could be hard, but waiting in an airport where there’s no sense of time is worse. So I distracted myself by people watching.

A lady was bouncing her baby, the old man across from me was snoring. A businessman paced back and forth speaking urgently into his phone, a family chatted excitedly for their family trip to the Canary Islands.

I pulled my eyes away from them as the call for my flight rang out over the crowded terminal, grabbing my suitcase and making my way towards the gate.

Excitement filled my every step as the anticipation grew and bubbled inside me. I gave the greeting flight attendant a small smile and made my way to my seat, for being last minute I managed to get a window seat.

We sat on the tarmac for twenty minutes before taking off and before I knew it the seat belt light pinged off and I was fast asleep jet setting my way back to America, back to my home.

I couldn’t tell what time it was when I woke up but the clock on the tv screen said 2 a.m. and that we’re due to arrive in an hour. I sat up in my seat and gazed out the window into the starry night sky.

Energy started to course through me as I watched the arrival time tick closer and closer. A light rain misted down over Seattle as I left the Seatac terminal and made my way through the maze of cars in the night that was made darker by the rain.

I spotted my blue Subaru and popped the trunk so my interior and seats wouldn’t get wet. It had been a long six months since I last sat in my driver's seat, the wheel almost felt foreign in my hands as I turned the key and listened to the engine roar to life.

I drove through the winding roads of the city to the Seattle-Bainbridge Ferry to take the 45 minute ride into Bainbridge and headed North to get on the 101 then turn onto 110 which would take me back into the heart of La Push.

The closer I got to Forks the brighter the sky became; well as bright as it could be on a gloomy day. The clouds became painted in the glow of purple and pink as the sun rose over the horizon, the rain had let up and left me with an overcast sky for the remainder of the drive back.

Since I slept virtually the entire flight back I didn’t feel the weight of exhaustion at all, but surely when I arrived back in the arms of Embry I knew I’d hit the wall with sleep deprivation.

As I barreled through the corridor of trees I passed the signature ‘welcome to Forks’ sign and turned right onto the 110, twenty minutes to home. I was so close but my soul felt like it was light years away.

The clock on my radio told me that it was currently 6:45, the pinks and purples that coated the sky faded away to the typical grey that fills my senses with delight. Sea salt and washed up kelp started to seep into the air that circulated into my car making the hair on the back of my neck stand on end.

Closer to Beach Drive I got the stronger the smell of the ocean became. The turn signal clicked as I turned onto the road that gave way to Sam and Emily’s house so they could take me over to Embry’s in the off chance that he happened to be awake at this hour.

It’s highly unlikely that he would be up at this hour but it’s not something I could be one hundred percent positive about. I stepped out of my car and turned around to see Emily running as fast as she possibly could towards me with open arms and a huge smile plastered across her face.

Dropping my bags I dashed across their lawn into her embrace.

“Oh (y/n)! I missed you so much, you must be so tired.” She released me from her hug and settled her hands on my shoulders giving them a gentle squeeze.

“I missed you too Emily, I knew I’d be tired but not this tired.” I chuckled while wiping at my under eyes in a feeble attempt to wipe away the exhaustion.

She put her hand on my lower back and led me inside for the awaiting cup of tea while Sam moved my bags into his truck.

The warmth of their home embraced me, the comfort of their kitchen was familiar. The only thing missing was the rowdy group of boys that made up the pack who usually occupied every available seat in the home.

I took a seat at the kitchen table where three cups of tea sat waiting, I should have expected a q and a when I returned. Wrapping my hands around the mug the warmth that radiated from it filled my hands.

Emily took a seat beside me and Sam entered through the door and sat adjacent to both of us.

“So how was the trip?” We sat around their table chatting until our cups were empty and filed out of the house into the early morning air.

“Emily and I will drive your car back to your place after I drop you off at Embry’s, the kid’s been sleeping in my living room more often than I’d appreciate.” Sam’s eyes crinkled with a smile, I knew he was joking but at the same time there was truth to his words; and honestly I couldn’t blame him.

“Thank you for putting up with him while I was gone, I owe you guys one and you owe me take out for a month.” He rolled his eyes and ruffled my hair turning into the Call's driveway. Embry’s mom had already left for work leaving him to his own devices; which meant he would sleep in as late as his heart desired.

We got out of Sam’s truck and he dropped my bags on the doorstep. I turned and gave him a quick hug and a thank you before sticking my key into the lock.

The door creaked open and I dragged my suitcases to a stop in their front entry way and shut it behind me.

My shoes landed on the floor with a soft thud and I gingerly walked up the stairs to ensure I wasn’t too noisy while making sure to avoid the one squeaky stair.

I got to the top of the stairs and hung a left down their light beige hallway that gave way to the oak door that guarded Embry’s room. His soft snores filtered through the door, it’s door knob was cool in my hand. Making an audible click with the turn of my wrist.

Dark mahogany brown hair peaked up from beneath the sheet that tucked Embry’s body out of view. One pillow was on the floor while the other was tucked firmly between his cheek and arm, I smiled at the sight of my sleeping boyfriend which filled my every inch with the utmost joy.

My sock covered feet pressed into the carpeted flooring with each step I took towards his bed making sure to step over the piles of dirty clothes that were scattered around the room.

The sun filtered through the gaps in the window blinds casting pools of golden light on the floor and along his walls causing the crystal prism that hung above his closet to sweep dashes of colour across his walls.

I pulled back the grey top sheet to reveal his peaceful face and I swear my heart was going to burst with the amount of love that I feel for him. His hair was tousled in every direction and a cow lick stuck straight up on the left side of his head.

My hands ran over his hair, smoothing it out while I whispered his name. Embry groaned a bit and rolled over, I whispered his name a little bit louder and moved my hands from his hair to his shoulders running them along his arms finally waking him from his slumber.

“Hi Em!” I gushed out as his brown eyes opened and focused on me. His face split with his toothy smile and his arms shot around me, pulling me down into his chest.

“Do you know how much I missed you?” Embry mumbled into my hair.

“I figured a lot with the amount of texts I got from the pack.” I reached up brushing the hair from his face.

“You can never leave me for that long again. . .I didn’t know what to do without you here.” He ran his hands through my hair placing a gentle kiss upon the top of my head.

“I was so worried about you. I couldn’t protect you and make sure you were safe.”

“Well next time I’ll make sure you can come, then you don’t have to worry.” Craning my neck up I placed a kiss upon his lips which were still a bit swollen from slumber.

“The important thing is that I returned safe and in one piece. The other important thing is I get to spoil you with the gifts I brought back!”

His laugh filled the room sending vibrations through my body.

“Hey! That’s my job to spoil you, not the other way around.” He ruffled my hair causing us both to laugh. I peeled off my socks and wiggled my way under his blanket.

“I think it’s time we catch up on six months worth of cuddling.” I poked a finger into his side.

“Yeah I think that’s a good idea, you owe me for being gone so long.”

“What? I came back early!” His hands made their way under my shirt to rest on the bare skin of my back sending waves of heat through my body from being pressed into him. Oh how I missed my heater.

“Yeah, by like what? Two weeks?” his silky voice chuckled out.

“I missed you Embry.” I told him, placing a kiss on his exposed shoulder.

“I missed you too. Now let's go back to sleep, you look tired.” He said to me as he rested his chin atop my head and pulling me closer.

#embry call imagine #embry call x reader #twilight wolves #twilight wolf pack #twilight renaissance #twilight revival #twilight saga #wolf pack #embry call #jared cameron #jacob black #sam uley #paul lahote #quil ateara #seth clearwater #leah clearwater

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lilysdaydreams · 4 years

Text

Praise Bingus (No fucking way)

→ I do not claim to know corpse- therefore please don't think that this is what he would actually act like, or that any details about his life are actually true. this is fiction.

→ Pairing: Corpse Husband X Fem!Reader

→ Genre: Angst and fluff. (FLUFF IS COMING I SWEAR)

→ Words: 3.9k

→ In a world where everyone is born with a mark on their wrist, two souls come together over the power of bingus.

→ (this isnt crack lol)

→ Warnings: Lots of swearing, um self-depreciation? rejection (kinda) and negative thoughts overall. Sorry im new to warnings.

→ Authors Note: this is the first time im doing like angst so please tell me if I did well? Um also, I’ve already started on the part 2 so keep your eyes out for that. If you wanna be tagged for part two please comment and lemme know. Also check out my other fics if you want!

→ Buy me a coffee

Part two →

~~~

Soulmates were a phenomenon. They'd been there for ages, drawn into the Egyptian tomb paintings, seen in the cave paintings from millions of years ago, talked about in stories passed down from generation to generation. They could be matching drawings, first words, names; all black before the soulmates met and turning gold the moment they talked to each other. There wasn't a scientist in the world who could explain the phenomenon.

You'd received your mark at birth just like everyone else, a sentence running around your wrist,

"No fucking way."

Your parents weren't that happy when you asked at the age of 4 what "fucking" meant but it wasn't that bad. You were happy that you had something unique, something other than the "Hi," or "Excuse me," that was on every other arm.

When you were 13, a little girl on the train pointed to your wrist and asked her mom what it meant. Ever since then, you'd taken to wearing bracelets over it. This had turned out to be a good idea because a few years later you started making Youtube videos. At the age of 16, you started a Youtube channel where you focused on a variety of things; makeup, fashion, games, art, skits and a whole lot more.

At the age of 20, you had a steady following of a little more than a million subscribers, and you had moved to LA to be closer to all your Youtube friends. You hadn't just grown on Youtube, you'd also started a lot of side projects. You were known for the art that you did on the side, along with the makeup palette you'd come out with a year ago. Soon you were planning to release a merch collection, one that you had been working on for a whole year now.

You hadn't met your soulmate at this point but honestly, you didn't really mind. Balancing Youtube and study (along with all your other side projects) was hard. There was no need to add the struggle of love into it... Or that's what you told yourself anyways.

There were days though, days where you wished you had someone to hug, someone to cuddle in bed with, someone to go on long walks with. You didn't let yourself wallow on it that long though. Crying about it was gonna do absolutely nothing.

It started on a rainy day. The story of you and him. You were editing your soon to be uploaded video, an e-girl outfits lookbook, which had been requested by your followers. Your personal style was all over the place and your previous soft girl and cottage care look books had done well, so you decided to continue the series.

You eyes blurred as you looked at the same point of the video, and you sighed, removing your glasses and rubbing your eyes. Your editor was sick and had let you know that they wouldn't be able to edit it by the deadline so here you were, editing it yourself. You stretched in your chair letting out a yawn. You were contemplating on whether to make coffee or not when your phone pinged.

"Nooooo" you whined when you noticed it was on the coffee table that was just a little out of your reach. Stretching your foot out, you tried to grab it between your toes and then sighed when the phone fell.

"I have zero luck, I swear" you muttered to yourself, bending to pick up the phone.

The text was from Rae, asking you to join a game of Among Us. You and Rae had been friends for a bit now, which all started when she came across your art and decided to order something from you. You had chatted and clicked immediately, immediately becoming fast friends. Ever since the lockdown started, she often asked you to join in on Among us games and your friendship had really grown over these past few months.

You sent a quick "sure!" and then went to your table, waiting for the PC to turn on. Quickly tweeting out that you were streaming, you opened up Youtube and turned on the stream, saying a quick hello and letting them know what you'd be doing.

"Rae just invited me guys, I don't really know who's there," you mumbled, replying to a comment asking you who you were playing with.

You squinted your eyes, joining the voice chat and then opening your phone camera to quickly check that you didn't look horrible. Sure you didn't really care about how you looked but it was always good to check that you didn't have anything stuck between your teeth before you turned on the camera.

There was already a conversation going on, between who you thought was Corpse and Sykkuno, judging by their voices.

"Yeah I could totally do that. Get a cat and name it Bingus. I wonder if th-"

You gasped when you heard what they were talking about and unmuted yourself immediately yelling "PRAISE LORD BINGUS" and effectively shocking everyone in the chat.

A moment of silence and then Rae yelled: "OH MY FUCKING GOD Y/N, YOU SCARED THE CRAP OUT OF ME."

You giggled as everyone groaned and whined, saying hi as they realised who it was. You had played with Sykkuno and the others a few times before but you'd never met Corpse before. You'd heard his voice though, as he was trending on twitter constantly over the past few weeks. Once they all quietened down, you realised Corpse hadn't said anything. Since you knew everyone else in the lobby, you introduced yourself, wondering if you'd scared him a bit too hard.

"Hey Corpse, I'm Y/N from Y/C/N, its so nice to finally meet you," you said gritting your teeth at you awkward introduction. For a second there was no response and then three words were said that made your jaw drop to the floor.

"No fucking way"

He had whispered it, obviously still in shock, and your eyes widened in surprise as a tingle spread all over your body. So this was what everyone meant by "you'll just know," when you asked them about how you would recognize your soulmate.

"Holy shit" you thought frozen in your seat.

Never had you been more glad that you hadn't turned the camera on yet.

"Uhhhh-" you started, but stopped now knowing what to say.

What the fuck were you supposed to do now.

"Wha- Whats wrong?" Rae asked after a moment passed.

Corpse cleared his throat and started "Its um, shes my -" and you cut him off, heart beating in your chest.

"Nothing. Its nothing." you said talking over him. "Who else are we waiting for Rae?" you asked joining the lobby quickly and choosing red as your colour.

"Uh one more person," she said slowly, still a bit confused.

"Oh awesome!" you said fake enthusiasm prevalent in your voice. "So Sykkuno," you started, wanting to keep the conversation going. "How's Bimbus doing?"

Sykkuno launched into a story of Bimbus and you blew out a sigh of relief, mind still numb over the revelation.

Corpse was your soulmate.

The guy who had literally went viral the past few weeks was your soulmate.

You'd finally found him.

You heard Rae cut Sykkuno off, telling everyone she was starting the game and muttered a "Thank god" when the words "CREWMATE" appeared on your screen. You would not have been able to play imposter at the moment, your mind pretty much stuck on the fact that Corpse was your fucking soulmate.

Heading down to admin, you realised you hadn't said anything yet to the stream so you quickly turned on your cam, saying a quick sorry to the viewers.

"Sorry guys, I forgot to put the camera on," you smiled focusing on card swipe.

"I hope everyone's been okay, I know this was quite sudden, but Rae invited me and I was like why not you know," you said rambling as you moved to comms and did the task there.

Lights were called and you moved to electrical, arriving there just as Leslie fixed them. You moved into the back of electrical doing the three tasks you had there when Sykkuno suddenly came in and went straight to standing on top of the vent.

You giggled already knowing his trick.

"Okay guys," you mumbled watching Sykkuno wiggle on the vent. "do we trust Sykkuno or not?"

"You know what," you said making a split second decision. "Its the first game, we might as well."

Joining him on the vent, you stilled for a second and then breathed a sigh of relief when he didn't automatically kill you.

"See, what did I tell you guys huh?" you question smiling straight at the camera. "I knew Sykkuno could be trusted."

You decided to follow Sykkuno going into reactor with him and starting 'Simon says' and just as you were on the last part, a body was found making you let a whine out.

"Guysss," you whined to the camera as Rae started talking about how she had found Daves body in admin.

"Um, I havent been in admin since the start of the game," you said, "also I can clear Sykkuno, for the last part of the round, he's been with me since lights went out."

Sykkuno confirmed it, "Yup that's right, also I can hard clear Y/N cuz guess what? She stood on the vent with me and none of us died."

Everyone chuckled as he said "Thats good enough for me."

"Uh, I was in navigation mostly." said Lily.

"Poki, can I just ask what you were doing?" said Sean, an undercurrent of mirth present.

"Me?" asked Poki speaking for the first time. "What was I doing?"

"You weren't doing any tasks, you were literally just walking from one side of medbay to the other when I peeked in."

Poki started laughing, trying to get her words out at the same time.

"Okay so-" a giggle. "okay okay- I was just, I was trying to um do the beep test," she said finally breaking down and making everyone else laugh as well.

"What the fuck?" you said, laughing at the image in your mind.

"My chat told me to do it last game so I decided to do it now, I was literally just playing around," she said finally, adding "I swear I'm not imposter" at the end.

"Hmmm," you hummed, bringing a hand up to stroke your chin. "Are you sure it was last game Poki... hm...."

Giggling at Poki indignant "YES it was last game", you quickly skipped voting like everyone else as the timer went into the last ten seconds.

Humming a tune under your breath, you went back to reactor, taking a minute to carefully do Simon says and then moved to the other task counting out one two three as you pressed on the numbers. Humming, you moved out of reactor, only to come face to face with Corpse. You paused for a second, and then moved ahead, refusing to show anything on camera. For some reason he followed you as you went to storage, looking at you while you did the trash.

"Why is he just staring?" you mumbled, biting your lip. God, you really didn't wanna think of him right now. You started walking to shields, him still walking with you when lights were called and not a second later a body was reported.

Suddenly there was screaming your ears as Toast and Rae both started accusing each other.

"Wait- Wait WAIT" yelled Poki trying to get them to stop. "What happened?"

"I'll explain" declared Rae, not letting toast get a word in. "We were in navigation okay, me, Toast and Leslie. Lights went out, and suddenly a report buttons there. It's either Toast or someone came in just as lights went out and killed but that doesn't seem likely because I didn't see anyone anywhere near us at all. Anyways I'm fucking telling the truth guys, its Toast, he's the one who did it."

"Toast, do you have anything to say for yourself?" asked Corpse, his voice making your insides shiver.

"Holy shit, this is my soulmate", you thought for the fiftieth time.

"Uh yeah," replied toast. "I didn't do it."

Everyone laughed as he continued.

"Like seriously, I wouldn't do anything like this because it'd be a stupid move from my own part, and I think Raes smart enough to not do this as well. I think someone else came in just as lights went down and killed immediately, which to be honest, was pretty smart of them."

"Okay so I can clear Corpse," you cut in noticing the timer was close. "he was with me in weapons when it happened, he wouldn't have had time to go all the way up, or even vent there because we were literally walking in."

"Yup that's right," confirmed corpse.

"I'm in cafeteria" said Poki.

"Yeah, I saw her on my way to weapons," said Sykkuno, "and I'm in weapons right now,"

"I'm in lower engine" said Sean, and Lily said she was in reactor.

"I think it's Toast," you mumbled and then rose your voice to talk over everyone. "Look okay fine, maybe he said it was a stupid move and he wouldn't do it but maybe he did it for that exact reason. He thought he could get away with it because no one would expect him to do something like that."

As the timer started going down by 10, you voted for Toast and it turned out 3 had skipped the vote while five had voted for him.

damn.

"Guys you actually voted for him?" you said in a high voice, re-enacting one of Sykkunos most said lines.

You heard a "oh for gods sake" from Rae before everyone went silent and you giggled as you moved back down to weapons to do your tasks.

You finished all your tasks and decided to go to security to check where everyone is. Humming as you moved through the electrical hallway, you narrowed your eyes as Corpse came out of electrical and went towards storage. Quickly ducking in you didn't see a body so you headed back out, going into cams and gasping as you saw the body. Reporting immediately you were shocked to see the four kills that had happened. Now only you, Corpse, Sean and Rae were left.

"Oh my god," you mumbled confused. Either there were still two imposters, and Toast wasn't the imposter or the imposter literally killed and did nothing else. Now either that could mean that its definitely Rae if Toast wasn't the imposter, or that it was Corpse as the only imposter left. That was a bit weird though becuase he could have totally killed you at the start of the game. You didn't suspect Sean at all.

"What the fuck?" mumbled Corpse, and Rae made her animal noises expressing her shock.

"Okay," you said taking charge and relaying the kill and your theory to everyone. "So either it was Toast and there's only one other imposter, who is Corpse. Or Toast wasn't an imposter and there's two of them left. I-" you took a deep breath in at the end, very confused. " I don't know anymore,"

"I think its Corpse as well,"

Corpse who hadn't said anything up till this moment suddenly started stammering out "hey-hey uh let-lets not gang up on me okay. It's not-"

"No, wait, its because Y/N said you came out of electrical right, and I saw you in upper engine literally a bit ago and you went down. I went towards cafeteria so I don't know exactly where you went but its totally possible that you killed."

You voted form him after that, convinced it was Corpse, and the other followed quickly.

"Guys what the fuck, at least give me a chance to explain my self" he whined when his body was thrown off the ship seconds later. You cheered when the "VICTORY" sign was displayed across the screen, bringing up your chat and laughing at Toast as he pretended to be angry at me.

"That was a great round, good work Y/N"

"Thankyou" you mumbled staring at your chat. You were confused when you saw the absolute influx of messages on there, and you were barely able to read them because they were going so fast. You scrolled up, and read through the few of the messages;

"You've made corpse sad."

"Corpse has literally been so quite since you came in, can you leave."

"Omg stop with the hate messages, its not her fault if corpse isn't talking to you"

"are you his ex or something? What was that reaction at the start?"

"what did you do? Corpse literally hasn't said a word since you came in."

"Um..."

Corpse POV

Corpses heart stopped for a minute, his breath catching. The words on his wrist glowed gold, and he stared at the little red character standing there.

This person was the reason that he had "PRAISE BINGUS" stretched across his wrist.

They were the only reason that he had searched "Bingus" on google for all of his life. The only reason Corpse knew about the meme before anyone else was because he was constantly monitoring the word online. Ever since March, he had been waiting with bated breath, anxious that he could meet his soulmate at any moment. and here you were.

For some reason, he had never expected that he would meet you in among us, or while he was on stream. He always thought it'd be someone outside. It was a bit stupid in hindsight as all he did nowadays was play among us.

He heard you introduce yourself to him but the only thing that came out of his mouth was “No fucking way”.

Immediately after he wanted to slap himself.

“Idiot” he thought to himself. “At least try to make a good impression.”

When Rae asked what was wrong, heat sprung to his cheeks as he started revealing that they were soulmates, but Y/N cut him off, saying that it was nothing.

Corpse’s heart sank a little then.

'Maybe she’s just a private person,' he reasoned with himself.

'I shouldn’t have tried to say it on stream either. God, I’m a fucking idiot, if I said it, literally everyone would know and not only would I have hated the attention, she probabaly would have as well.'

Convincing himself that she was right, he reassured himself that it wasn’t because of him. She wasn’t revealing it because she probably didn't want all the attention.

For some reason though, his heart sank even more when Y/N didnt talk to him, instead talking to sykkuno about his dog. Like sure he could understand not wanting to reveal they were soulmates but shouldn’t she at least wanna talk to him? At this point he wouldn’t even mind if she talked about his voice like everyone else.

He groaned when the word "Imposter" came across his screen, his and Toasts character standing together. He was not in the right mindset right now to be able to be a good imposter. Breathing in deeply he continued in the game, with the first round passing by quick. The second round, he saw Y/N and stood with her for a bit wondering if he should kill her. Her red character moved to weapons and he sighed moving the mouse over the kill button. Just as he was thinking of clicking a body was found. Corpse swore as Toast flew off the ship. Deciding he needed to speed it up he killed four people in the round, hissing when the meeting was called. The moment Y/N accused him, he knew it was over. He didn't even bother defending himself much, just hoping the game would end soon.

When they were in the lobby, he quickly told everyone that he was going to leave because his internet was acting up. Turning off the stream after saying a quick thank you to everyone, he leaned back in his seat breathing through his nose.

What the fuck was his life.

Even his soulmate didnt want him. Honestly, he should have expected this. Abandoned at 12 with no one around him, why did his expect his soulmate to even give a fuck about him. Tears pricked his eyes and he blinked trying to get rid of them. He breathed in deeply, grabbing the water on the table and taking a big gulp. He had never hated himself more than he did right now. Why couldnt he have an easier life.

“Why cant I just fucking be NORMAL” he yelled throwing the empty bottle of water at the wall.

Throwing himself into bed, he scrunched up his eyes, hoping that sleep would come today, not noticing as his phone lit up with a single message.

Your POV

You stayed for another game and then ducked out apologizing and making an excuse up.

"Sorry it was such a short stream, everyone," you said pouting at the camera. "It was fun though so hopefully I get to do it again." Waving goodbye, you turned off the camera and leaned your head back staring at the ceiling.

What the actual fuck.

Grabbing your phone, you stared at it for a bit. Everything that you had pushed to the back of your mind in the game, was suddenly in the forefront.

The only thing you knew about Corpse was that he had a really deep voice, he narrated horror movies, and he maybe did music?

'Rae mentioned that once right?' you thought to yourself.

You unlocked the phone and then locked it again, too scared to actually do anything.

Unlocked.

Locked.

Unlocked.

Locked.

"Oh get a grip," you muttered to yourself, opening the phone and sending a text to Rae.

‘Hey Rae, do you have corpses number? Do you mind sending it to me, I need to tell him something.’

A reply came in a minute,

‘umm, why. he's pretty private so idk i don't rlly wanna give his number if he doesn't want someone to have it’

You sighed, and decided you might as well tell her. You knew Rae wouldn't betray your trust.

‘He's my soulmate’

Immediately a ‘AHDJHAKJKAGDAK’ came as a reply and you giggled at the string of emojis after it.

‘Don't tell anyone,’ you sent quickly, trying to calm her down.

‘Okay okay, its XXX - XXX - XXXX, ASHAGDH IM DYING OMG. GO TALK TO HIM.’

Biting your lip you added Corpse into your contacts hesitating before putting a small black heart next to his name.

"Already simping," you mumbled under your breath, hands hovering over the keyboard as you struggled to think of what to write.

You finally decided on 'Hey, its Y/N, can I call?' thinking that something short would be the best way to go. Hand hovering over the send button, you sucked in a breath and pressed it, waiting with bated breath.

A minute passed.

And then five.

And then, without you even you realising, it'd been half an hour of you just looking at your phone.

An hour later, you were slumped on your desk, eyes closed and snoring lightly, the phone still open, the message you sent lighting up the screen.

tbc.

#corpse husband #corpse x reader #corpse #corpse husband x reader #corpse x y/n #corpse husband fanfic #corpse fic #sykkuno #corpse husband imagine #corpse husband headcannons #corpse husband one shot #lilydaydreamsfics

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hpalways · 3 years

Note

Heyy I was wondering if you could write just a few hc or one shots for Albedo, Kazuha, or Venti with an s/o who overworks themself with work and stuff? Yknow- comfort stuff :3 Unfortunately I’ve been having to work over fifty + hours these past few weeks, and I love your writing! Have a nice day btw-!!

Note: hiiiii! yes! of course. this sounds lovely to write about. please take care of yourself omg, that sounds really stressful and tiring. aww! and thank you for enjoying my works, im so happy to hear that ^^

Fandom: Genshin Impact

Characters: Albedo, Kazuha, Venti

Warnings: None

Albedo

When he sees you studying religiously in the workshop, he goes to the nearby campfire. Finding a pot and some water, he warms it up to make hot cocoa. Heading back to you, he hands it to you, watching your face light up in pleasant surprise.

As the workshop in the mountains can still get cold, he fetches a wool blanket to wrap around your arms. It allows you to have a better time with your research.

He tries to take your mind off of work by asking you to be his model for his next art piece. You are told to lay down, because he wants to draw you that way. Despite shooting him a confused look, you follow through with it anyway, getting into a position that’s too relaxing. Soon enough, you fall asleep and he quickly tends to you and tuck you in.

Other times, he wants you away from the workaholic atmosphere. Holding your hand tightly, he leads you out of the cave-like study and into the pretty snow. A light flutter falls from the skies, tickling your cheeks in gentle waves. The two of you stroll through the slippery slopes, and he makes sure no harm comes to you.

He talks philosophically and about the world, giving you a break from the load of paperwork.

However, he is quite the workaholic himself, his thoughts always straying to him own studies. This usually strikes some sense in you, where you help pull him out of his stupor, as well as your own. The two of you continues to remind each other that breaks are needed. He’s your rock to hold onto; and you were his.

“[Y/N]? You appear very tired. Slow down and let me fix you some tea.”

Kazuha

Whispers poetry into your ear. His voice itself is soothing to you, calming your frantic nerves from the ongoing training that was set in stone. Every word that comes out is like silk, which relaxes your tense muscles.

Pulling you away from the training grounds, he shows the nature views he has grown so fond of. Maple leaves rain down in gentle motion, the scenery warming you up inside with comfort. It is beautiful and you do not regret sneaking out with Kazuha for this moment.

He talks about his homeland, Inazuma, full of raw emotion and beautiful phrases that take your breath away. He tells you not to rush what fate has in store for you, to take it easy and go at your own pace. This relieves your stress easily.

You are sometimes taken out to the ship, where you are not allowed to train. The sea laps beneath the engine, blue waves furling in a way that soothed you. It is beautiful, the horizons stretching far and wide, with the rising morning sun in the distance.

Seeing your tired expression, he takes you to the middle of nowhere -- the meadows where it is warm and the sun basks. He says the wind leads him here. And before you know it, the two of you are knocked out on a rock, taking a nap together to find your energy again for the next coming day.

At times, he goes easy on you during battles, soon turning it into a fun word game where he contemplates haiku.

“The wind is calm today. Come. We don’t need you rushing either.”

Venti

Always very willing to distract you from your paperwork. Barging right into your office at the Favonius Headquarters, he walks to you with a giddy smirk.

He takes no objections, deaf to your protests as he forces you out of there, running through the fields with you fumbling behind him. He goes to Windrise, expertly climbing up his favorite tree. You sit beside him, letting out a sigh at the male. You are secretly happy to be here instead.

Plays his precious lyre to you, the melodic song ringing into your ears. They make you feel warm inside... and sleepy. His voice is angelic as always, with favorite lyrics tumbling out of his precious lips.

Of course, he brings you to his favorite tavern in Mondstadt, Angel’s Share. Buying a bunch of drinks, the two of you drink and feel the rush of it kicking in. He is smiling in content when you sag your shoulders into a relaxed state, no more worrying about the irrelevant stuff from before.

Tells you lots of jokes. You try not to laugh at them, but he eventually gets to you anyway. His teal eyes watch you softly, content to destress you from the workload you keep putting on yourself. He misses when you had more freetime -- when you aren’t fretting about the littlest things.

He gives you a lot of surprise hugs. His arms are surprisingly strong, tightening around you and stubborn to let you go. You feel yourself giving in to the sturdiness of his arms.

“Free yourself from the chains of responsibility, [Y/N]. Eheheh. Pretty please?”

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mcmansionhell · 3 years

Text

Underground, Part 1

[Author’s Note: A year ago, when waiting for the DC Metro, I came up with an idea for a short story involving two realtors and the infamous Las Vegas Underground House, typed up an outline, and shoved it away in my documents where it sat neglected until this month. The house recently resurfaced on Twitter, and combined with almost a year of quarantine, the story quickly materialized. Though I rarely write fiction, I decided I’d give it a shot as a kind of novelty McMansion Hell post. I’ve peppered the story with photos from the house to break up the walls of text. Hopefully you find it entertaining. I look forward to returning next month with the second installment of this as well as our regularly scheduled McMansion content. Happy New Year!

Warning: there’s lots of swearing in this.]

Underground

Back in 1997, Mathieu Rino, the son of two Finnish mechanical engineers who may or may not have worked intimately with the US State Department, changed his name to Jay Renault in order to sell more houses. It worked wonders.

He gets out of the car, shuts the door harder than he should. Renault wrinkles his nose. It’s a miserable Las Vegas afternoon - a sizzling, dry heat pools in ripples above the asphalt. The desert is a place that is full of interesting and diverse forms of life, but Jay’s the kind of American who sees it all as empty square-footage. He frowns at the dirt dusting up his alligator-skin loafers but then remembers that every lot, after all, has potential. Renault wipes the sweat from his leathery face, slicks back his stringy blond hair and adjusts the aviators on the bridge of his nose. The Breitling diving watch crowding his wrist looks especially big in the afternoon glare. He glances at it.

“Shit,” he says. The door on the other side of the car closes, as though in response.

If Jay Renault is the consummate rich, out-of-touch Gen-Xer trying to sell houses to other rich, out-of-touch Gen-Xers, then Robert Little is his millennial counterpart. Both are very good at their jobs. Robert adjusts his tie in the reflection of the Porsche window, purses his lips. He’s Vegas-showman attractive, with dark hair, a decent tan, and a too-bright smile - the kind of attractive that ruins marriages but makes for an excellent divorcee. Mildly sleazy.

“Help me with these platters, will you?” Renault gestures, popping the trunk. Robert does not want to sweat too much before an open house, but he obliges anyway. They’re both wearing suits. The heat is unbearable. A spread of charcuterie in one hand, Jay double-checks his pockets for the house keys, presses the button that locks his car.

Both men sigh, and their eyes slowly trail up to the little stucco house sitting smack dab in the center of an enormous lot, a sea of gravel punctuated by a few sickly palms. The house has the distinct appearance of being made of cardboard, ticky-tacky, a show prop. Burnt orange awnings don its narrow windows, which somehow makes it look even more fake.

“Here we go again,” Jay mutters, fishing the keys out of his pocket. He jiggles them until the splintered plywood door opens with a croak, revealing a dark and drab interior – dusty, even though the cleaners were here yesterday. Robert kicks the door shut with his foot behind him.

“Christ,” he swears, eyes trailing over the terrible ecru sponge paint adorning the walls. “This shit is so bleak.”

The surface-level house is mostly empty. There’s nothing for them to see or attend to there, and so the men step through a narrow hallway at the end of which is an elevator. They could take the stairs, but don’t want to risk it with the platters. After all, they were quite expensive. Renault elbows the button and the doors part.

“Let’s just get this over with,” he says as they step inside. The fluorescent lights above them buzz something awful. A cheery metal sign welcomes them to “Tex’s Hideaway.” Beneath it is an eldritch image of a cave, foreboding. Robert’s stomach’s in knots. Ever since the company assigned him to this property, he’s been terrified of it. He tells himself that the house is, in fact, creepy, that it is completely normal for him to be ill at ease. The elevator’s ding is harsh and mechanical. They step out. Jay flips a switch and the basement is flooded with eerie light.

It’s famous, this house - The Las Vegas Underground House. The two realtors refer to it simply as “the bunker.” Built by an eccentric millionaire at the height of Cold War hysteria, it’s six-thousand square feet of paranoid, aspirational fantasy. The first thing anyone notices is the carpet – too-green, meant to resemble grass, sprawling out lawn-like, bookmarked by fake trees, each a front for a steel beam. Nothing can grow here. It imitates life, unable to sustain it. The leaves of the ficuses seem particularly plastic.

Bistro sets scatter the ‘yard’ (if one can call it that), and there’s plenty of outdoor activities – a parquet dance floor complete with pole and disco ball, a putt putt course, an outdoor grill made to look like it’s nestled in a rock, but in reality better resembles a baked potato. The pool and hot tub, both sculpted in concrete and fiberglass mimicking a natural rock formation, are less Playboy grotto and more Fred Flintstone. It’s a very seventies idea of fun.

Then, of course, there’s the house. That fucking house.

A house built underground in 1978 was always meant to be a mansard – the mansard roof was a historical inevitability. The only other option was International Style modernism, but the millionaire and his wife were red-blooded anti-Communists. Hence, the mansard. Robert thinks the house looks like a fast-food restaurant. Jay thinks it looks like a lawn and tennis club he once attended as a child where he took badminton lessons from a swarthy Czech man named Jan. It’s drab and squat, made more open by big floor-to-ceiling windows nestled under fresh-looking cedar shingles. There’s no weather down here to shrivel them up.

“Shall we?” Jay drawls. The two make their way into the kitchen and set the platters down on the white tile countertop. Robert leans up against the island, careful of the oversized hood looming over the electric stovetop. He eyes the white cabinets, accented with Barbie pink trim. The matching linoleum floor squeaks under his Italian loafers.

“I don’t understand why we bother doing this,” Robert complains. “Nobody’s seriously going to buy this shit, and the company’s out a hundred bucks for party platters.”

“It’s the same every time,” Renault agrees. “The only people who show up are Instagram kids and the crazies - you know, the same kind of freaks who’d pay money to see Chernobyl.”

“Dark tourism, they call it.”

Jay checks his watch again. Being in here makes him nervous.

“Still an hour until open house,” he mutters. “I wish we could get drunk.”

Robert exhales deeply. He also wishes he could get drunk, but still, a job’s a job.

“I guess we should check to see if everything’s good to go.”

The men head into the living room. The beamed, slanted ceiling gives it a mid-century vibe, but the staging muddles the aura. Jay remembers making the call to the staging company. “Give us your spares,” he told them, “Whatever it is you’re not gonna miss. Nobody’ll ever buy this house anyway.”

The result is eclectic – a mix of office furniture, neo-Tuscan McMansion garb, and stuffy waiting-room lamps, all scattered atop popcorn-butter shag carpeting. Hideous, Robert thinks. Then there’s the ‘entertaining’ room, which is a particular pain in the ass to them, because the carpet was so disgusting, they had to replace it with that fake wood floor just to be able to stand being in there for more than five minutes. There’s a heady stone fireplace on one wall, the kind they don’t make anymore, a hearth. Next to it, equally hedonistic, a full bar. Through some doors, a red-painted room with a pool table and paintings of girls in fedoras on the wall. It’s all so cheap, really. Jay pulls out a folded piece of paper out of his jacket pocket along with a pen. He ticks some boxes and moves on.

The dining room’s the worst to Robert. Somehow the ugly floral pattern on the curtains stretches up in bloomer-like into a frilly cornice, carried through to the wallpaper and the ceiling, inescapable, suffocating. It smells like mothballs and old fabric. The whole house smells like that.

The master bedroom’s the most normal – if anything in this house could be called normal. Mismatched art and staging furniture crowd blank walls. When someone comes into a house, Jay told Robert all those years ago, they should be able to picture themselves living in it. That’s the goal of staging.

There’s two more bedrooms. The men go through them quickly. The first isn’t so bad – claustrophobic, but acceptable – but the saccharine pink tuille wallpaper of the second gives Renault a sympathetic toothache. The pair return to the kitchen to wait.

Both men are itching to check their phones, but there’s no point – there’s no signal in here, none whatsoever. Renault, cynical to the core, thinks about marketing the house to the anti-5G people. It’s unsettlingly quiet. The two men have no choice but to entertain themselves the old-fashioned way, through small talk.

“It’s really fucked up, when you think about it,” Renault muses.

“What is?”

“The house, Bob.”

Robert hates being called Bob. He’s told Jay that hundreds of times, and yet…

“Yeah,” Robert mutters, annoyed.

“No, really. Like, imagine. You’re rich, you founded a major multinational company marketing hairbrushes to stay-at-home moms, and what do you decide to do with your money? Move to Vegas and build a fucking bunker. Like, imagine thinking the end of the world is just around the corner, forcing your poor wife to live there for ten, fifteen years, and then dying, a paranoid old man.” Renault finds the whole thing rather poetic.

“The Russkies really got to poor ol’ Henderson, didn’t they?” Robert snickers.

“The wife’s more tragic if you ask me,” Renault drawls. “The second that batshit old coot died, she called a guy to build a front house on top of this one, since she already owned the lot. Poor woman probably hadn’t seen sunlight in God knows how long.”

“Surely they had to get groceries.”

Jay frowns. Robert has no sense of drama, he thinks. Bad trait for a realtor.

“Still,” he murmurs. “It’s sad.”

“I would have gotten a divorce, if I were her,” the younger man says, as though it were obvious. It’s Jay’s turn to laugh.

“I’ve had three of those, and trust me, it’s not as easy as you think.”

“You’re seeing some new girl now, aren’t you?” Robert doesn’t really care, he just knows Jay likes to talk about himself, and talking fills the time.

“Yeah. Casino girl. Twenty-six.”

“And how old are you again?”

“None of your business.”

“Did you see the renderings I emailed to you?” Robert asks briskly, not wanting to discuss Jay’s sex life any further.

“What renderings?”

“Of this house, what it could look like.”

“Oh. Yeah.” Jay has not seen the renderings.

“If it were rezoned,” Robert continues, feeling very smart, “It could be a tourist attraction - put a nice visitor’s center on the lot, make it sleek and modern. Sell trinkets. It’s a nice parcel, close to the Strip - some clever investor could make it into a Museum of Ice Cream-type thing, you know?”

“Museum of Ice Cream?”

“In New York. It’s, not, like, educational or anything. Really, it’s just a bunch of colorful rooms where kids come to take pictures of themselves.”

“Instagram,” Jay mutters. “You know, I just sold a penthouse the other week to an Instagram influencer. Takes pictures of herself on the beach to sell face cream or some shit. Eight-point-two million dollars.”

“Jesus,” Robert whistles. “Fat commission.”

“You’re telling me. My oldest daughter turns sixteen this year. She’s getting a Mazda for Christmas.”

“You ever see that show, My Super Sweet Sixteen? On MTV? Where rich kids got, like, rappers to perform at their birthday parties? Every time at the end, some guy would pull up in, like, an Escalade with a big pink bow on it and all the kids would scream.”

“Sounds stupid,” Jay says.

“It was stupid.”

It’s Robert’s turn to check his watch, a dainty gold Rolex.

“Fuck, still thirty minutes.”

“Time really does stand still in here, doesn’t it?” Jay remarks.

“We should have left the office a little later,” Robert complains. “The charcuterie is going to get –“

A deafening sound roars through the house and a violent, explosive tremor throws both men on the ground, shakes the walls and everything between them. The power’s out for a few seconds before there’s a flicker, and light fills the room again. Two backup generators, reads Jay’s description in the listing - an appeal to the prepper demographic, which trends higher in income than non-preppers. For a moment, the only things either are conscious of are the harsh flourescent lighting and the ringing in their ears. Time slows, everything seems muted and too bright. Robert rubs the side of his face, pulls back his hand and sees blood.

“Christ,” he chokes out. “What the hell was that?”

“I don’t know,” Jay breathes, looking at his hands, trying to determine if he’s got a concussion. The results are inconclusive – everything’s slow and fuzzy, but after a moment, he thinks it might just be shock.

“It sounded like a fucking 747 just nosedived on top of us.”

“Yeah, Jesus.” Jay’s still staring at his fingers in a daze. “You okay?”

“I think so,” Robert grumbles. Jay gives him a cursory examination.

“Nothing that needs stitches,” he reports bluntly. Robert’s relieved. His face sells a lot of houses to a lot of lonely women and a few lonely men. There’s a muffled whine, which the two men soon recognize as a throng of sirens. Both of them try to calm the panic rising in their chests, to no avail.

“Whatever the fuck happened,” Jay says, trying to make light of the situation, “At least we’re in here. The bunker.”

Fear forms in the whites of Robert’s eyes.

“What if we’re stuck in here,” he whispers, afraid to speak such a thing into the world. The fear spreads to his companion.

“Try the elevator,” Jay urges, and Robert gets up, wobbles a little as his head sorts itself out, and leaves. A moment later, Jay hears him swear a blue streak, and from the kitchen window, sees him standing before the closed metal doors, staring at his feet. His pulse racing, Renault jogs out to see for himself.

“It’s dead,” Robert murmurs.

“Whatever happened,” Jay says cautiously, rubbing the back of his still-sore neck, “It must have been pretty bad. Like, I don’t think we should go up yet. Besides, surely the office knows we’re still down here.”

“Right, right,” the younger man breathes, trying to reassure himself.

“Let’s just wait it out. I’m sure everything’s fine.” The way Jay says it does not make Robert feel any better.

“Okay,” the younger man grumbles. “I’m getting a fucking drink, though.”

“Yeah, Jesus. That’s the best idea you’ve had all day.” Renault shoves his hands in his suit pocket to keep them from trembling.

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#architecture #design #fiction #las vegas #underground house

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sagevs911 · 3 years

Text

“who were you expecting?” | buddie week (day 2)

info: evan buckley x eddie diaz (warnings: canon-typical injury)

read on ao3

Eddie twists to see the bruises better in the mirror, hands coming down to frame them as if they were a piece of art. He tugs his turnout gear past his waist and over his hipbone, trying to see how far it extends. The bruising ends abruptly at the top of his hip. Already, the edges are turning a sickly yellow, unflattering against the tan skin of his torso. It looks like a sunset, but maybe more like the type you’d see in a zombie apocalypse.

The door creaks open and he turns with a start, exhaling when he sees Buck. “Oh, it’s you.”

“Who were you expecting?” Buck hazards, but his gaze has already turned to the marred mess of Eddie’s side. “Hen, I hope?”

It’d been a rough shift.

It hadn’t been the kind of shift where Eddie would keep seeing a dying person’s last moments on the backs of his eyelids, or when the ride back to the station would be silent with everyone’s heads bowed in bone-deep exhaustion. Where the feelings in his chest hurt more than his muscles.

It’d been the kind of shift where the hits had kept coming, and coming, and coming. Call after call after call, with no casualties, but maybe some that would’ve been better off dead. When closing his eyes on the way to another scene was the most rest he’d had all shift, when the only thing he’d eaten was half a granola bar that Buck gave him. When Eddie had to shower not once, not twice, but three times, to scrub mud and soot and dirt off of him in-between calls, just for the last one to slather him in layers of concrete dust, anyways.

When a parking garage collapse had led to him, two stories aboveground and yet feeling like he was in the deepest cave imaginable, pulling a woman and her children from their crumpled car, he had expected to need another shower, but not to need medical attention, too.

He supposes he remembers it, now that he thinks back. He’d been leaning in to pull the youngest out of her car seat and a chunk of the roof, resting on top of the car, had shifted enough to pin him where he was hanging down into the sunroof. In seconds, Buck had moved it off and he had gotten the kid up and out. He doesn’t remember it hurting.

As he stands in the shower room, turnout gear shoved down and hanging off of his waist like a lumpy skirt, he figures it must’ve hurt when it happened. It certainly does now.

His ribs are painted a mural of blue and purple, bruises echoing from his flank to his ribcage, and stretching down to his hipbone. Small abrasions litter his torso like cat scratches, and they’d stung as the fabric of his shirt had peeled away from them.

The door creaks open and he turns with a start, exhaling when he sees Buck. “Oh, it’s you.”

“Who were you expecting?” Buck hazards, but his gaze has already turned to the marred mess of Eddie’s side. “Hen, I hope?”

Eddie shakes his head, fingers quickly dancing along the length of his ribs. He doesn’t need to be checked out. “Nah. Nothing’s broken.”

“What about bleeding?” Buck’s already standing beside Eddie, so close the latter can feel his breath ghost along his exposed shoulder and collarbones. “When was this?”

“Parking garage,” Eddie mumbles, losing his focus as Buck’s palm comes to rest over the very center of the bruise. His palm is scorching hot. It soothes Eddie’s aching chest.

“The slab?” Buck hisses in sympathy, pressing in gently with his fingertips along the lines of Eddie’s ribs. He tracks down to the swell of his hipbone, palpating the expanse of blue and yellow. “Shit, I’m sorry, man- I tried to get it off as quick as I could- I didn’t notice it caught you this bad.”

“Don’t,” Eddie shakes his head, putting a hand over Buck’s forearm, stilling the man’s movements on his torso.

“Right. Not about me. Sorry.” Buck gently smooths along the rest of the bruise, tugging down Eddie’s gear like he had to see how far down it extends.

“Not what I meant,” Eddie murmurs, so softly that it makes Buck stutter in his movements. He looks up, finding Eddie’s gaze waiting. His eyes are tinged red, probably from exhaustion, and Buck wants to pull him into his chest and hold him until he falls asleep. “Not your fault.”

“Okay,” Buck breathes, unable to tear his gaze away from Eddie’s. His fingers still rest on the abstract art coloring Eddie’s skin.

“Broken? Bleeding?”

“No, I don’t think so. You should still get it checked-.”

Eddie’s turning away and shaking his head, then. Buck looks away as he strips out of the rest of his gear, now just in his nylon uniform pants that he’d worn underneath it. A thin layer of gray dust litters his hair, face, and neck- whatever had been exposed during the rescue.

“Let me,” Buck mumbles, grabbing a washcloth and wetting it before nudging Eddie towards the bench. He looks like he is going to protest, but the tiredness weighing down his bones is so profound he doesn’t, he just straddles the bench so he’s facing Buck and lets his head hang.

Buck does the same facing Eddie, scooting forward and gently cupping his chin with his own bruised, scraped hands. Eddie’s eyes flutter closed as Buck carefully wipes the dust off of his cheeks, his jawline, his forehead, under his eyes. He wets the towel more and starts on Eddie’s hair, trying to avoid having to rinse it again. Eddie’s completely pliant as Buck works on him, breathing slowing as he finds a moment to relax.

Buck gently rests Eddie’s forehead against his shoulder, letting the man sag against him as he moves onto the back of his neck and shoulders. He falls into the rhythm of swiping and blotting the dust off, wringing out the towel, and then re-wetting it and repeating. Eddie’s breathing is slow- not labored, Buck notes, as he listens carefully- and he thinks he might be falling asleep.

When Buck is done, he cups the back of Eddie’s neck with a dry hand and rests his own cheek against the top of his head. He smells like cement and soot and a little bit of sweat, but underneath there is still the coconut of his shampoo that he shares with Chris, and the cinnamon pine of that nice cologne he buys himself.

Buck doesn’t know how long they sit there, one hand on the back of Eddie’s neck and the other resting gently over the bruise on his side, like his touch alone can heal it. The warmth from his palm seeps out onto Eddie’s cold-to-the-touch skin. Eddie is floating in that space between sleep and awareness, where his thoughts are slow like honey and incoherent, and he’s aptly aware of the sensation of Buck’s hands on him- but also feels like he’s floating in warmth.

He feels safe and he never wants to move.

Except his shift has been over for half an hour and his kid is going to be back from school soon.

Eddie groans, a pathetic noise, as he pulls himself away from Buck. The hand on his neck releases, fingertips dragging across the raised goosebumps that have sprung up like spring flowers across his skin. The hand on his side pats gently and then is gone, too.

“Thanks.” Eddie’s voice is gruff and weary. Buck wants to smooth down the crease between his eyebrows with his thumb until it is gone, paint over the dark of his under-eyes with a color light enough to help him look alive. “Better get going.”

“Yeah,” Buck rubs the back of his own neck, fingers still tingling like he’d dipped them in lidocaine. “You have, uh, Chris waiting.”

“He’ll be home in a bit,” Eddie mumbles. “And you have, uh. Taylor.”

Buck looks like he’s going to say something, but he doesn’t.

“Can I-?”

“Do you want to-?”

They stop at the same time, huffing twin laughs before tiredly meeting each other’s gazes again. There’s a new weight to it, now.

“Come home with me?” Eddie asks, quick, before Buck can say anything else.

“Read my mind, Diaz.”

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