#still cannot believe his shirt doesnt have buttons. comfort i think

[callias-w]

I dont know why I draw Yashiki in such a way he feels so autistic to me. That one drawing walking on his toes?? Self complacent art probably, I love Yashiki so much. He's so weird and cool. He is also always wearing comfy clothes…

[lu-undy]

Sniper is a lone man, talks very little even asa kid. When we gets hurt he doesn't say anything, he doesnt whine, he doesn't want to be a bother. But his back hurts a lot. Sniper (tries to) ignores the pain as always, but Spy notices. And he tries to convince Sniper to let him give him a massage because the pain is affecting his job. So yeah, just a massage, a professional one. But Spy's hands touch just the right places, and the ambience is amazing, and maybe that massage has a happy ending❤️🐑

Funny you mention that! I have already written it in one of my fics ^^ But here is something completely different from what I already wrote in the past, I hope you’ll enjoy it! :D

The tall man grumbled. 

He wished the windowsills were higher so that he didn't have to spend his day slouched that way. He sometimes would sit on a wooden crate but that would end up giving him a sore bottom. Everyday, for every battle, the choice was there: sore bottom or back pain?

That day, he had gone for back pain with a side of slight headache, the former causing the latter. 

Sniper took his shots, his jaw clenching and his shoulder contracting more than was necessary to compensate for the pain in his back. He reloaded and shot again. The cycles of reloads and shots spiralling for the entire duration of the match, along with his pain growing and his posture degrading.

After the battles, he went back to spawn and put his rifle in his locker. It needed a good clean but he just wanted a hot shower and a nap, or maybe just lying down for a while. He put his hand on his shoulder and tried massaging himself but of course, it was to no avail. A massage only works if one is completely resting while someone else did the job. 

Had he been back home, he would have asked his mother. But she was thousands of miles away and he knew that calling her wouldn't help. 

Sniper walked back through the base.

Nah, it wouldn't help. She would worry from far away and he didn't want to be a bother for anyone and especially not his dear mother. What about his father then? Nah, he would get told off for sure. 

"Told ya, gunman's no proper job, son. And you'll get hurt."

"Dad, it's only back pain…" 

"Does it hurt or not? It does! And is it because of shootin'? Yeah it is! So the point stands." 

He opened his van's door and shook his head as if to shake away his father's voice that echoed in the walls of his mind. This entire discussion had rolled in his head as if he had it for real. 

Sniper threw his hat and sleeveless jacket away before sinking on his couch. Oh it was an old, worn out thing that couldn't possibly be less comfortable. He wouldn't usually mind but he twisted his back left and right, trying to find a position that would hurt him the least. 

"Bugger…" 

He unbuttoned his polo shirt and slid a hand behind his back. It hurt… The pain growing stronger and weaker under the waves of his hand.

Knock, knock. 

He raised his eyes to the door. Sniper hadn't heard anyone come to the door, which immediately gave away the identity of his visitor. He rose from the couch and, his hand still behind his back, he opened the door. 

"Hey, Spy, what d'you want?" He asked. 

The Australian watched as his colleague's face went from his usual suave smile to something else, something between distress and rage.

"Bonjour first maybe? And I'm sorry to interrupt, I shall come back later." The French accent was strong, not too much, but thicker than usual.

"What do you think you're interruptin'?" Sniper asked, confused.

"Well, look at you! Your shirt is open, your hair is completely disorganised, you are not even wearing your hat or your glasses!" 

The tone of the Frenchman's voice had grown louder and louder as he spoke. By the end of his sentence, he sounded irritated. Sniper's eyes snapped wide. Why was Spy being so pissed off?

"W-wait, what?!"

The Frenchman sighed and lowered his head. 

"Nevermind, Sniper, nevermind. Forget it. Forget… me."

He turned on his heels and walked away, shoving his hands in his pockets angrily.

"Spy, wait!" 

The Frenchman turned to face him.

"Non, Sniper. I'm going back to my room. See you, maybe."

"Ugh, bugger…" 

As if his day wasn't bad enough, he had to give the wrong impression and piss off his only friend… Sniper grumbled and fell deep in thoughts. 

Need to apologise and tell him… 

The Australian went to the Frenchman's room and knocked. 

There was a moment before Spy opened.

"And you have the nerve to come to my door?" Spy asked.

"Spook, there was no one with me, I was alone! Can I come in and explain now, please!?" 

Spy lowered his head and opened his door wider, as if to invite Sniper in. He entered and the Frenchman shut the door after him.

"What the-?! You're the one expectin' someone!" Sniper exclaimed his arms extended towards the unusual object standing in the room. 

Spy had all the lights off apart from the flames of the fireplace and… some candles? Sniper looked around him. The Frenchman had put candles here and there and there was a gentle smell in the air… It smelled like a forest, fresh trees and leaves. But the most bizarre thing was the physiotherapy table there in the middle of it all.

"Indeed I was expecting someone. And he arrived." Spy answered, very calmly, with a smile.

"Well, as someone said, if I'm botherin' ya in the middle of somethin', I might as well leave…"

"Non." 

Spy stood between the Australian and the door. 

"You imbécile, I was waiting for you." 

"What?!" Sniper was utterly confused. "What the bloody hell's all this?!" 

"It's to relieve you. I do believe your back is killing you."

"How did-mh!?" Spy had put his index finger on his colleague's lips. 

"Had I gone to your van and just asked you to come, you would have said you were too tired and you would have refused. So I had to think of another way to make you come out of your den of a camper van." Spy explained with a smirk and Sniper's eyebrows shot up. 

"Now, don't make me get angry for real this time and go to my bathroom. You'll find a pair of shorts that I might have borrowed from your van. Put them on and come back here, lie down on the table."

Spy released his finger on his friend's lips and nodded his head towards his bathroom. Sniper thought he was hallucinating or dreaming. What the bloody hell was all that?!

He did obey though, in a brain-dead way. He went to the Frenchman's bathroom and found his old pair of grey short on the edge of the sink. He closed the door and slipped them on. When he came back, the Frenchman was waiting. He had removed his jacket and vest, his tie had gone too and he had opened the first few buttons of his shirt as well as rolled up his sleeves. 

Sniper looked at the physio bed and back at his colleague. Spy's eyes were riveted on the bed. He had noticed how prude his friend was and how he wrapped his arms around himself and hunched his back, as if it hid his bare chest and back. 

"Where did you ever find this…?" 

"I borrowed it from Medic."

"You nicked it from Medic?" 

"I intend to give it back. So it's a loan that he might not be completely aware of. Now, please, lay down." 

"Roight…" 

Sniper had gone too far to refuse. He lied on his stomach. 

"Bien, put your arms along your chest, that's it, very good. Now, my hands are a bit cold but they will warm up, bear with me for a while."

"Alroight…"

"Shush, you close your eyes and don't think about anything." 

"Spy?" 

"What did I just say, Bushman?"

"Can you lock yer door though…?" 

Spy sighed with a smile. 

"Fine." The Frenchman moved to the door and locked it. He came back and removed his socks. 

"Why the hell…?"

"And to think that you are the least sociable of us. Now you never stop talking…" Spy said. "But to answer you, I cannot proceed if my feet are not in contact with the ground." 

Sniper heard the noise of some liquid being squeezed between Spy's hands and then he felt them on his back. 

"When you massage someone, you are not just running your hands on someone's body. You are in a way taking the tension from that person, onto you, in your palms and your fingers. But all this strain, you have to throw it somewhere. I do believe it circulates through my body and I'm giving it away to the ground through my feet and the wooden floor." 

Spy's voice was soothing Sniper. 

"Also, I do hope you like the smell. I didn't have kangaroo and desert scented candles, but I thought that fresh forest would do."

"Spy… Your hands…" 

"They're getting warmer now with the friction." 

"No… They're… bloody… good…" 

Spy smiled. 

"Let me know where it hurts."

"Top, go all the way up."

Spy slid his hands left and right from his friend's spine, his feet anchored in the floor and his eyes closed. 

"Shoulder blades… please… and shoulders…"

"Fine." 

Spy took more oil in his hands and went for it. The Australian grunted and moaned under the Frenchman's efficient hands. He felt like some dough being rolled and kneaded. He had no idea Spy could be that skilled with his hands. Sniper was waving and rolling in his mind, his eyes closed, the smell of the candles and of the oil gently washing him from the inside. 

And it lasted a long time, in silence. Spy thought that after the racket of the battlefield, the solitary hunter that Sniper was would appreciate some peace and quiet.

"Spy…?"

"Hm?" 

"Talk…"

"What do you want me to say?" 

"Any… Thing… Just… Talk…" 

Spy's smile widened. His friend sounded so different. 

"Well, I can start by asking you if you don't mind turning on your back."

"Five… More… Minutes…"

Had Spy not been used to keeping his emotions for himself, he would have chuckled at least. 

"Fine." 

His hands traced circles and loops, his palms pressed, his fingers following closely. 

"Oooh… Spy… How…?" 

"Sshh… Just enjoy." He whispered. 

He kneaded his back slowly, paying attention to not neglect a single muscle. All of them were massaged and accounted for. Spy bent to Sniper's ear:

"I want to see your face now, mon beau." 

Sniper's eyes snapped open. He turned on his back and saw Spy upside down, bending above his head and smiling. 

"What's that mean?" The Australian asked. 

"What?" Spy put a bit of oil in the middle of his palm and rubbed his hands together. He put his hands on his friend's collarbones and massaged down. 

"Mon beau?" Sniper repeated with a twisted accent. 

As Spy pushed his hand down Sniper's chest, his back slowly bent down until his mouth ended up next to the Australian's ear. He whispered:

"Literally, my handsome one." 

Sniper's eyes popped wide open and his heart accelerated. His friend's hands on his naked chest didn't help and the Australian turned red as a brick. 

"Breathe slowly, I can feel your heart pounding." 

Spy's hands were working wonders on Sniper's chest and stomach, such that his entire body had no choice but to indeed relax. 

When the Frenchman finished with the torso, his fingers moved to the Australian's face. Sniper looked at him, still seeing him upside down, with questioning eyes. 

"Close your eyes." Spy whispered. 

"I-I can't." 

Their faces were a few inches apart. 

"Yes, you can, just trust me." 

Sniper took a deep breath and closed his eyes. He felt Spy's fingers on his chin, his cheeks, below his eyes, his temples and his brow. He repeated the motion for entire minutes without tiring, sometimes spending more time on Sniper's cheeks, next to his both hideous and attractive sideburns… 

Spy moved around the table and slowed the movements down. Sniper felt that something was going on. He opened his eyes. The Frenchman's face was above the Australian's. Their eyes locked. 

Sniper saw Spy's eyes. They were half-closed and blinked very slowly, the long dark eyelashes brushing the air like the wings of a butterfly. 

"Thank you." Sniper whispered. He didn't want to break the silence too hard. 

"It is my pleasure…" Spy brushed his friend's cheek down and stopped next to his mouth. 

"You're the weirdest bloke I've ever met. Stealin' this bed, puttin' on a show with the candles, the smell, and the comedy you played back at my van…"

"Qu'est-ce je ne ferais pas par amour?" 

[What wouldn't I do out of love?]

"What's that mean?" 

Spy ignored Sniper's question and his fingertips moved closer to his lips. The Australian smiled and lifted his hand to put it on top of the Frenchman's. 

"I'm sorry I can't say it in French but uh…"

"If you can't say it, make me understand it… Show me…"

Sniper's fingers laced between his friend's and his heart beat fast. He put his other hand behind the Frenchman's neck and pulled him in closer.

The Frenchman rolled his eyes up when Sniper's lips touched his. All he had wanted was to help the poor man who was too shy to ask for anything. But now the Australian was saying thanks, and maybe something else…?

[seijch]

just binge read ur previous asks for the sleepover and i was very much entertained😌 how would ur top 3 ACTUALLY dress? like we always see those “outfits the hq boys would wear” but they seem so... unrealistic😭🤚

whack me w a pillow or smth (sleepover event)

OK HI I WAS THINKING ABT THIS MY WHOLE SHIFT N ENDED UP HAVING ENOUGH BRAINROT TO TYPE A WHOLE THING IN THE NOTES APP SO HERE WE GO!!! 😈💯

ok im typing this after finishing the post but i rlly like the way this came out so everyone please read it if you want to see me brainrot over konoha kenji n kuroo ...

KONOHA is definitely a man who Knows his essentials ... knows the beauty of sweatpants and joggers and knows that he looks Good in a solid colored tee (but doesnt shy away from print ... its just that if you open his closet its literally black white n the occasional pop of color) i would LOVE to say he accessorizes but no he doesnt 💔💔 its his fatal flaw too ..... dont be shy aki let me buy you one of those chain bracelets!!!!! those are sexy as fuck and i PROMISE they would make him look even better!!!!!!! in general he gives me big silver or white gold vibes even if i cant see him wearing jewelry on his own :/ its ok if he were to date me id make him come around to the idea ...

he gives white air max 90 or air force 1 vibes does that make sense . if anything has color in his fit its maybe some print on his shirt but if not its DEFINITELY his shoes ... i was thinking abt this but i think hed look good in the bel air jordan 5s but maybe thats just bc i wanted to get a pair NJFKDSFS if we want to get a little less realistic (i mean not rlly bc i know ppl who do this) he probably keeps up w supreme drops n its less to resell and more to get the clothes at retail price which is MUCH more reasonable than resell (i think its 40 for a shirt? idk my friend keeps up w it n i love to hear him brainrot but that doesnt mean i retain ALL the information 🤕)

:: go-to outfit? say it with me ... white shirt/crewneck sweater if it’s cold with sweats. if he needs to dress it up, hell throw on some plaid or switch it up w some nice jeans. unlike the other two he has a good idea of how to dress throughout his life which makes looking Back a much . easier experience compared to the other two LMAO

FUTAKUCHI swears by the denim gods when he needs to actually Care abt his outfits and im MAD abt it bc how dare he look good .... im going to fucking kill him 🪓🪓🪓🪓 the image of kenji in a denim jacket w a hoodie underneath n some ripped jeans haunts my every waking moment you dont understand......... hes ALSO a plaid man which pisses me off even more .... but im going to be honest he uses outerwear to hide the fact that theres definitely a hole in the armpit of his favorite shirts ... hes had them since high school kenji PLEASE buy some new shirts!!!! probably suffers in summer bc he cant wear jackets n stuff without looking weird (has definitely said hes wearing plaid For The Fit when in reality its bc theres a stain on the back of his shirt from when he sat in bird shit. its Artistic baby speak your truth!!!)

at least you can convince konoha to wear jewelry if you keep at it ... while i think kenji gives silver vibes over gold i dont think you would be able to convince him to wear it unless youve already bought it and basically ambush him with it JKSDFDS if anything i think hed settle for those leather bracelets ... its ok his ego is fragile ❤ shoe wise idk he gives me vans vibes (so does konoha but he also looks like a nike stan so i said that instead). if he lives somewhere cold he probably owns a pair of those classic wheat colored timbs (You Know The Ones)

i can tell you RIGHT NOW that in elem and junior high he was one of those kids w the neon athletic fits that took pe too serious when he got in the groove 😐 shut the fuck up n pass me the ball kenji were in fourth grade i shouldnt be failing PARTICIPATION in PE 🗣🗣🗣

:: go-to outfit? a rlly comfy denim jacket (hell let you borrow it if you bitch enough n hell be like Sigh . The Things I Do For You but when you slip it on hes abt to combust) w a shirt that probably has a chili stain at the hem of it n ripped jeans. the white slip on vans. i hate that he looks good.

KUROO is . idk i feel like hes a lot harder to pin down but he probably shopped at hot topic in middle school 💔 is this projection? maybe. am i WRONG abt it tho ... ANYWAY like everyone who grows out of that phase, he has Taste ... post college or just at the club i KNOW he understands the effect a slightly unbuttoned black shirt has 👁 prob rode the eboy wave bc he thought the fashion was nice so he might have a few of those clunky rings ... rarely wears them but bitch he SHOULD!!!! otherwise, i think he keeps it pretty simple! lots of hoodies and sweaters bc if he has no one to rlly impress hes big on comfort. owns a good amt of athleleisure (is that how you spell that hjkdfds) bc he does work out regularly but if you were to come across him during an 8am lecture i can guarantee all he did before coming to class is brush his teeth ... 

unfortunately not a chain man but while his rings may be black (yk like black titanium) or silver, if he were to wear a chain i think hed be fine with either silver or gold! i personally think hed look good in either 🙈 shoe wise i rlly cannot pin him down ... for running im seeing him leaning towards nike shoes but i like . cannot tell what hed wear regularly SHJFKDS 

what i CAN say is that when he was younger (and i mean until his second year of high school) he was one of Those Kids that wore the Quirky printed button ups but like . this time its not a compliment . in junior high he definitely thought those ... and it PAINS ME PHYSICALLY to say this ...... fingerless gloves were the coolest things around ..... i hate that i had to google that now im going to get ads for hot topic

:: go-to outfit? black hoodie w maybe some design or print on it w sweats or jeans (like konoha hell dress it up or down depending on where youre going). if you make him wear them hell even bust out the eboy rings he bought forever ago <33 i think later in life when hes more sure of himself (and i mean like after hs ... hes good in his 3rd year but i feel like hell still deflect compliments in the form of teasing and not believe it in 3rd year) he Knows he looks good so he doesnt rlly have to try unless you want to be That Couple that takes over the world one fit at the time ... in the end the only one he wants to impress is you 🙈

[disastertealeaf]

mighty nein fashion sense: modern au [updated]

based on this old post!

fjord:

probably dresses up like trucker ngl (but not really.)

probably looks like he buys clothes from american eagle and only ae

bought all the clothes in the closet knowing that all of them will match

that being said, he loves to layer his clothes

see him in a lot of flannel and denim with plain t-shirts

tan pants? better than he thought

hes probably got loafers or some kind of practical work shoe

summertime? hes takin out the short sleeve button up shirts. no one will stop him

ironically owns a hawaiian shirt

looks GREAT in a suit and he knows it

lady-killer

a pretty boy

caleb:

ever seen a college disaster in the winter?? that’s caleb

his clothes are old, and theyre never really out of style because he tries to buy clothes like that (hes a man of classic apparel)

kind of guy to have a set of monochrome t-shirts that he uses a lot because he cant be bothered to do clothes shopping

the black ones have faded a lot

TURTLENECKS

scarves

slacks!!! and classic belts. ge discovered that it’s easier to clean up a look with minimal effort.

has a leather bomber with the same interior as his coat in canon. it is used almost everyday

if he ever needs to look scholarly hes got it covered but its only one set of clothes and he doesnt really like it because he hasnt bought a new one in a while

the scholarly look is actually just a sweatervest with a button-up shirt and maybe a tie? with leather wingtips

style over comfort to the max (he cannot find it in himself to try everyday when he has more important things to focus on)

mollymauk:

hes fashionable. end of story

hes got slacks in so many colors and patterns.

hes got so many patterned buttonups that he will never fully button (probably just buttons up to his navel and quits)

he probably dresses up in different eras every day

HIGH WAISTED SHORT SHORTS WITH FISHNETS

he does not give a Shit about what society thinks is “feminine” or “masculine”. he will do whatever the fuck he wants to

definitely wears skirts for this reason

he loves to experiment with clothes….. he has so many

probably has one of every type of shoe to try and match his outfits

jewelry is a must!! probably has bought a lot of clip on earrings or has a lot of ear piercings. or just accessories in general. he loves bein flashy

knee high boots are still a thing but shhh those are for very special nights out in town (which is every night in his opinion. just let him live)

if hes trying to be discreet catch him in a burgundy peacoat

beauregard:

shes got the gym look down

basically only owns clothes in her dnd color palette

greenish blue windbreakers on chilly days

workout leggings and sweatpants ALMOST ALL THE TIME not that anyone is complaining

shes got a few pairs of destroyed denim jeans and shorts and they look really good

she just feels like the pants are restricting because she needs to be ready to Throw Down

sleeveless shirts! big arm cutouts! tank tops! racerbacks! all of them have graphic designs

probably just goes out in a sports bra and a hoodie if shes really not feeling it

sunglasses. she looks so good in them.

shes got a pantsuit hidden deep deep DEEP in her closet for special occasions (would rather not wear it)

jester:

skirts!!!! dresses!! yes!! a lot of a line dresses and skirts

shes got a closet of pastel because she looks good in every shade

probably loves knee high socks

shes got those small backpacks in pastel pink she will not leave her house without it

really loves floral designs imo

hot take: she is into embroidery and loves making her own style out of ordinary clothes

high waisted denim shorts WITH FISHNETS. molly roped her into it and she loves it

u know those shirts that button up but u can tie them in the front?? she likes those a lot

off the shoulder shirts too

oversized things!! hit her with an oversized sweater or sweatshirt on a casual day or a lazy day (please take care of it fjord we beg u)

loves loves loves!!! designing her own shoes

she likes to buy paint sets and go to town on some plain shoes and give it her own artistic touch OR she will embroider it

always about her most recent obsession

catch her with some tusk love themed shoes

hair accessories!! lots of bows and headbands

yasha:

practical attire!! if the apocalypse came today, she would be ready

cargo pants (shes got 50 pockets or something)

i can see her owning a lot of heavy jackets (perhaps a parka?)

combat boots are a must. or sneakers but u know combat boots make her looks cleaner

plain t shirts or tank tops (really complements her arms)

monochrome at almost all times or navy blue

will occasionally just come out in gym attire. leggings and a tank top ?? yes PLEASE

probably a former goth u can find her stuff in a storage bin in her garage or something (molly always tries to find it)

probably has a holster bag on top of her many pockets

nott:

master of nondescript clothes

earthy colors are her favorite

discovered that people wear masks in other countries and she hasnt gone back since

plain hoodies!! bomber jackets!! she likes them

sweatpants with those cuffs at the bottom!

tbh she doesnt have too many demands when shes getting clothes…. they just cant be expensive or flashy because she’d rather blend in

loves goodwill. that is probably the only store she goes to for clothes because she is Frugal

she wears converses that are Pretty Old but she takes care of them so they last a while

i want to believe that she hides a fanny pack under her jacket to conceal stolen goods

caduceus:

his clothes are the most true to canon

he does not own one silk shirt. he owns enough to last him a month. he also has a lot of cotton shirts

mainly in floral designs or solid earthy tones + various shades of forest green

slacks in that deep green he always wears

bluchers or open laced dress shoes! or his boots from canon

he accents all of his outfits with some kind of leather (usually its on his belt, but he has bracelets and other accessories to make it work too)

he knows how to use a monochrome green palette perfectly

he looks business casual half of the time

if hes going casual, it’s camo time.

heavy army green jacket with patches that jester made + any v-neck t-shirt he owns

if hes really not feeling it on a particular day, he will wear harem pants and a fruit of the loom shirt that he stuffed into a drawer in his wardrobe

his style is the softest in the nein in terms of his usual everyday wear

[ancientbooshartifacts]

Broken Mirrors

Author: Evil_Kingdom

Year: 2010

Rating: PG-13

Pairing: Vince/Richmond

Another Night, Another Bar...

Richmond takes a sip from his drink, some fruity dark red coloured drink, hell if he can remember what the name is. He takes a long gulp, shuttering at the after taste of alcohol. He thinks to himself what a weak man he is, far from what others he works with are like. Even Moss is stronger then him, and to everyone that says a lot.

But I thought you liked Moss?....

I do.

But you know he doesnt like you right?....

I know. No one likes me.

Oh dont be so hard on yourself Richie...

Shut up inner thought. Im tired of you being the only one to talk to.

He shakes his head, believing that maybe going out for a bit of air will be the solution to his problem. He gulped down the rest of his drink, places it carefully on the table, looks a round the room to see people giving him odd and funny looks

See? Maybe if you only dressed like them... maybe the would actually like you...

Not you too inner evil thought. Shut up

Richmond gives his head a big shake, then flattens out his long dark hair back into place. He then takes the steps through the crowd of people dancing irratically to the DJ with the toys up in the booth. He thinks to himself that maybe it was a bad day to come to the bar, a day when there is just too many people around. Not that he really minds that there are people around, it just isnt his type of people, so it makes for more awkward moments.

He instantly feels the cold air wrap around him as he pushes open the door. He cracks a small smile, feeling the comfort of a familiar friend

Hello Wind, nice to feel you again

He leans against the cold wall, closing his eyes for a brief moment, trying to collect all his thoughts and feelings.

Maybe I should just go home... Its not like im going to find anyone tonight.

Maybe you will never find anyone....

I TOLD YOU TO SHUT UP.

He lets out an exasperated cry, slamming his fits beside him into the wall. Tears start to gather in his eyes as he opens them, looking up into the shine of the moon,

It will be ok Richie, it will all work out soon....

Thanks moon, I can always count on you.

Im the Mooonnn....

Looking out onto the darkness of the streets, he sees gaggles of people, all sorts of people, dancing and being happy, drunk and laughing.

Why cant I be like them? Why cant I have some friends?

Richmond sighs again, standing up a bit straighter, rubbing the scratches on his hands.

No need to be sad anymore. Im better then this, I can get through this.

Being depressed just makes you a stereotypical goth Richie...

Thats right inner thought. And I'm not one to be stereotypical.

Pushing off from the wall, brushing his hands softly over his dark red velvet jacket, he gives himself a smile. Tomorrow will be a better night, tomorrow he will find someone to talk to.

Tomorrow tomorrow...

Richmond stares at himself in the mirror, checking every pore on his skin.

Perfect whiteness. Though I could lay off the sun a bit more, then it would be more perfect.

You know its fashionable to have a tan now a days Richie...

I know. But thats not who I am, I am a confident attractive young man.

Just keep telling yourself that....

Shut up inner evil thought. You cannot ruin my mood today. I am going to go out a meet someone. Just you watch me.

Giving himself a big smile, flashing his clean and white teeth, he applies the final stages of his eye makeup, adding a touch of black glitter to the corners of his eyes making his blue eyes sparkle.

Moving to the closet double doors he looks into rows of reds, deep purples and blues, hints of green, and rows upon rows of black. But at the very end, far back in the walk in closet, you can see a hint of his past, 3 normal suits still hang from bar, still unable to give away the last of the past.

He holds onto them thinking one day, one day, he may actually have the want to try them on, try on what he used to be, what it was like to be the cool guy, the guy with talent, friends, and a job that doesn't include staring at flashing buttons in the basement.

As he grabs his favourite creepers, a pair of black spiderweb socks, and a deep purple button up jacket, he sits on his bed and begins to hum a Cure song, one that he cant seem to get out of his head...

Oh please don't ask me who i am

Or when and where my life began

Or why i ended up like this or how

Standing up he brushes himself off and walks out into his hallway, out the front door, and on to the streets. Walking at a slow pace he watches the moon that sits high up into the night sky, surrounded by little stars, faint to see in the brightness of the cities lights. Continuing down the street, turning left, then making a right, he finds himself smack dab in the middle of bar and nightclub alley.

Now which one shall I pray upon tonight... hmmm decisions, decisions.

You make it sound as if you will have people just throwing themselves at you when you enter the doorway, you do know you will probably drink yourself stupid and wander home, just like every weekend.

Shut up inner evil thought. I told you. Tonight is my night. Tonight I will come home victorious. Gotta be confident, show them that Im a great person.

Richmond smiles to himself, confidence beaming through him like a flaming dagger sword from his heart.

And then he sees him.

The perfect figure of a man.

Gleaming black hair, shiny with product, perfect shape and placement

But not a goth.

Richmond gives a questionable look, heart beating faster in his chest.

Well he is a he...right?

That doesn't change anything, Im quite happy with any sexual preference. Not to say i'm not picky, but love is love you know, it doesn't have a gender.

For the first time in his life, his heart beats fast, quickens his pace, and jogs up to the club, slipping through the door, staring at the slight in front of him

Lights gleam from the ceiling, flooding the crowd with different colours, music loudly playing, but not loud enough to destroy eardrums. Not a bad selection of music, thankfully, Richmond hoping that there wouldnt be an idiot DJ tonight. He searches the club trying to find the man with the perfect hair... Bingo. Right next to the bar, sitting alone.

Here's my chance. Don't fuck it up.

He takes a deep breath, straightens out his clothes, fixes his hair, and makes a casual walk towards the bar.

“One cherry vodka sour please.”

He leans on the bar, trying to be casual and confident, thinking to himself that it probably doesn't look the case, but as long as he doesn't look ridiculous, its all that matters.

Well there he is Richie... go for it..

I will I will. Don't pressure me. You know what happens when I get pressured.

You get all clammy and your voice goes all squeaky and then people stare and laugh at you....

Thanks for the reminder asshole.

Richmond turns and glances towards the man. He makes eye contact, seeing full well the man beside him is staring. His face goes pink, but he can't look away...

“Can I help you? Are you starin' at me for a reason?” The dark haired man tilts his head

“Uhh... ummm... no, I was just looking over, sorry to bother you. I don't mean to make any trouble..”

Youre pathetic Richie. What happened to your confidence?...

“I don't mean to be mean, you don't have to get all defensive.” The man gives a small laugh,

“My name is Vince, Vince Noir, you probably heard about me, I am the king of Camden Town”

The man, Vince, flashes one of the most gorgeous smiles he's ever seen, his confidence clears.

“Umm no, sorry, I haven't heard about you...”

But I would love to..

Richie go for it. Give him something else to smile about....

“My name is Richmond, and I would love to find out why everyone knows you”

Richmond tries to give himself a confidence boost, giving a small cheeky smile, turning back to pay the bartender and grab his drink.

“Would you like a drink? My treat?” Richmond glances over Vince, seeing that he chooses the glam rock style, not something he is used to, but man does he make it look hot. He slowly gives him a once over, looking at his tight shiny shirt, trailing down to his black tight pants...

His eyes linger on his bulge, his perfectly pressed bulge against his pants, perfect...

“Oi mate, eyes up here, k love?” Vince flashes a coy smile, giving a small chuckle

He snaps out of his daze, face going red

“Im sorry, I didnt mean to, I mean I wasnt..”

if your face could get any redder, you would be a tomato.

“I'll take you up on your drink offer, a flirtini please, extra sour” Vince motions for him to take a seat beside him, giving him a cheeky grin.

He returns with drinks, placing his preferred drink in front of him, sliding into the booth beside him.

Now what are you going to do Richie? You cant just get him wasted you know

I know that... Im working on it.

“You alright mate? You arent the drug type are you?” Vince tilts his head towards Richmond, catching his eye, “You look a bit spaced out. I hope im not boring you or nothin”

“Oh no, no... no problem. Im just not used to someone being nice to me, usually I get brushed off quick and that is that” Richmond tries to smile it off, like its nothing.

Vince grins, his hand slowly creeping up Richmond's leg, stopping to grab his thigh. “Good. A pretty boy like you wanted to know about me, so heres how it starts”

Popping the cherry from his drink into his mouth he leans over, hand trailing down Richmond's thigh. His mouth getting ever so close, Richmond feeling his alcoholic breath push against his face, heart racing a mile a minute.

This is it. He is actually into me

Richmond leans forward, opening his mouth, tongue flicking forward hitting the cherry stem, before closing the gap with his lips..

Tonight be all i dream

There isn't any yesterday

Tomorrow starts a day away

This here and now with you is how

Always should always be

This

Here and now

With you

[multifandom-kpop-scenarios]

Hello. May i get seventeen scenario about their s/o who has important position in a company (ceo, etc) who rarely tell them what's wrong bcs she doesnt wanna bother him and one day she's like faint//break down bcs of the stress? Hehe is this too detail? If yes, then pls do whatever you'd love to write ❤ ( the member involved is up to you 😁 ). Thankyou! Have a great day 🙇

Hello, Thank you for sending in your request!! Thank you for giving us the opportunity to write for a member that we have not written for yet. Let us know what you think and don’t be shy :)   Thank you again and N’joy!!

PAR T_T IME

Admin AJ

It’s the first corporate meeting of the new year. You are sitting at a table with other executives and administrators of your corporation.“Here we have a graph of the corporation income through the last decade.”

You sit and watch as the executive uses his pointer to follow the height of each bar.

“As you can see, this graph represents last year and the previous year before that.”

You see that the two graphs have minimal changes between each other but you did notice that last year’s income did have a subtle decline.

“Due to last years low profits, there needs to be a reduction in labor cost.”

You raise your hand, the executive acknowledges you with his pointer, “Yes, Ms. l/n.”

“Mr. Lee when you suggest a reduction, what do you mean by that?”

The executive looks at you with disbelief, “A reduction, as in lay-offs, letting people go.”

He then turns his attention to the other administrators within the room continuing with his presentation. “I suggest we start with those too unfit to carry on in the industry. I mean who can argue with an early retirement.” Some of the other executives laugh, as if some peoples life were something to toy with.

You cut into their laughter, “Those employees that are still working are those that cannot afford an early retirement.”

They made a quick comeback, not even considering the worlds they were about to destroy, “You cannot afford to keep employees if you do not make any profit. We are barely breaking even.” This didn’t sit right with you, at all, and you quickly tried to come up with some kind of compromise that didn’t result in people losing their jobs, “What if we suggest a pay cut. I’m sure we can reason with the employees…”

The man at the head of the table raised his brow at your suggestion, “Are you willing to risk the company as a whole just to keep some ensure everyone has a job?”

The executive prevented you from saying anything more as he continued to speak.“If you continue to think this way, everyone will be jobless. Remember it’s not personal, but ‘Business is Business.’ As for now I believe this meeting is finished.”

————

You watch as the conference room begins to empty as everyone gets up to leave. You were very much aware of the whispers among the other administrators about your supposed carelessness. Before he leaves, Mr. Lee places a folder on the table in front of you, “Here is the list of employees that up for debate about their employment. You can look over them to make a final decision.”

You open the folder seeing that it contained a list of at least 50 employees in it along with their information. Some have been with the company since the beginning, Hwang Kinam; 15 years in the company, While others are gaining a fresh start, like Kwang Jihae; graduate from Seoul University. You continue to look through the list, some have families that needed to be supported, like Kim Minsun; caretaker of two grandchildren. There was not one person over the other that deserved to be let go. Each of them performed to the best of their ability. You couldn’t make a choice not here, not now.The atmosphere was suffocating within the meeting room and you were desperate to leave. You decide to work from home, not wanting to have a chance encounter with any of the individuals on the list. You collect your belongings and head for the elevator, the things in your arms seemed heavier than usual today. ‘A few more step,’ you catch yourself thinking reaching out for the button next to the silver doors.

“Oh thank goodness. You are still here.” A soft, kind voice reaches you. You didn’t need to turn around to know who it was, and you realized today was not your lucky day.

“Oh! Mrs.Kim.” You say as you turn to greet the older lady, your heart aches as you remember that she is one of the employees up for debate.

“I went to your office and noticed that you were not there.” She lifts her hand up revealing a small box. “Here share this with that boyfriend of yours.” She placed the box in your hand.

You feel guilty accepting the gift but she insists. “Mrs.Kim this is lovely. I can’t accept this. Maybe you should share this with your grandchildren.”

She smiles at you, “Nonsense,  those kids are sweet enough. Please accept this as a thank you for giving this old lady a chance to provide you her services.” She bows and leaves, with purpose fueling her steps.

You feel your throat tighten as you bow deeply, “No, thank you for everything.” You attempt a small smile, “Have a good night Mrs. Kim.” You quickly step into the elevator not giving a chance to have your facade fall.

——

Once at home you began to make phone calls trying to reach out to partnered corporations. You sat at your desk which files and paperwork cover. You were keeping your mind busy, trying to multitask between typing on your laptop and making phone calls.

“Hello Director Park, I was calling about that project we had discussed earlier this month. Is there a possible way to set it in motion?”

You here the front door open and look up to see, your boyfriend of 3 years,taking off his shoes by the front door. He was wearing a comfortable outfit, he must be coming straight from practice. He looks up, eyes immediately looking to were you currently sat. His light brown eyes warm with affection, curl slightly upwards at the end, crinkling sightly as a smile spread across his face. He does a small wave, you smile, despite your current mood, he had this effect on you.

You sat and hoping it was convincing enough to make him not worry about your condition right now. The phone was still pressed to your ear as you received not completely reassuring news,“Okay you’ll consider. Thank you very much.” You hang up your phone, trying not to get discouraged yet.

As you hung up the phone, you felt a soft pressure on the top of your head. You turn to see Joshua, eye level with you as he crouched down to your level. He takes your busy hands away from their task, as he rubs them. “You feel a little cold,” he chuckles as he tries to warm up your hands. He looks toward the kitchen “Have you eaten yet, Y/n?”

It hits you then, you were too preoccupied with work that you forgot to make dinner. “Josh, I’m sorry.” You apologize, you hadn’t meant to forget to make the dinner. You didn’t want to burden Joshua, so you went to get up to make something really quickly.

He kissed your hands as he stood up, he held one hand up like the stop sign, “There’s no need to be. Hang tight.”

You gaze lingers as you watch the busy back of Joshua, currently digging through the cupboards for your dinner.

“Okay tonights menu consist of” Joshua creates his own drum roll as he sets down two package of ramen, one behind the other, as he says “We have Chicken flavor” You can hear the crackling of plastic as he shuffles the packages around. “And beef!”

“What does the chef recommend.” you play along.

Joshua’s eyes light up with amusement, and he puts his hand up to his chin, thinking, “I like beef in general.”

You laugh, “I’ll take the beef.”

“Coming right up! A bowl of beef ramen for the pretty lady.” The once quiet kitchen is now lively as you watch Joshua prepare the ramen.

You get up from where you are sitting and walked towards Joshua. You wrap your arms around his back, attempting to make him feel how grateful you were for having someone like him.

You rub his back affectionately, your version of a message, and say, “You must be tired.”

“Today was just a meeting discussing about our upcoming comeback and some vocal practice today. So it wasn’t too bad.” He chuckled, his shoulders rising and falling, “As soon as I walked through our front door and saw you working, I felt better. Besides it looks like you had a tough day. Anything happen at work?” He questioned as he turned to face you as he gets ready to listen, giving you all his attention as he always does.

“Oh you had a meeting today too. How was that?”

Your hands tighten on the front of his shirt and your breath is shaky. You averted you gaze away from his eyes, worried he would see the truth.

“It was okay.” You answer briefly, not giving any details.

Before any more questions could be asked, your phone rings and you sigh, “I should probably answer that.”

You pull away from his comforting embrace and the kitchen to answer your phone. Its one of your partnered corporations that seemed the most promising to help with your predicament. You don’t say much as you hang up the phone after thanking them for their consideration. You stand for a moment with the phone still pressed to your ear despite its silence, trying to process what was said. ‘Okay’ you think, ‘I can think of something else.’ You try to convince yourself that you can find another way. ‘Just because you couldn’t get any partnered companies to help doesn’t mean that you will still have to lay off some people…’ a tear escapes its confinement from your eyes.’right?’ You were close to breaking and you were struggling to keep yourself together. ‘Come on, _____.’ you stifle a sob, ‘You can do this.’ You say to yourself, hoping that saying these words to yourself would kickstart your brain into thinking of what to do next.

“Oh! You bought a cake?” Joshua questioned from the kitchen, reminding you of the world that was still going on around you. With the mention of the cake from Mrs.Kim, you felt the onset of a completely new break down. One for those you were too incompetent to help. You tried to stay quiet but you couldn’t calm yourself down.

Your attempts to try to keep yourself together failed as you felt yourself slowly become undone. The tears and sniffles were unable to be calmed as you felt a little sob come up. Quiet, was no longer an option as you felt a warm pair of arms wrap you in a comforting way pushin your head gently to their chest. Joshua placed his hand on your head and ran his hand down, trailing your hair. The slow pace he went at and the beats of his heart you could faintly hear both working to calm you down. “Im sorry,” were the only words you could get out at this moment. Joshua in that moment just embraces you, pulling you closer to his body and just holds you staying quiet as you cry.

After you were able to speak again, you tell him what has happened at your work. You also told him that you felt bad about breaking down in front of him.

He smiles as he says, “Trust me. Even if I am busy I am more than willing to listen to your happiness and joy.” He placed his hands on your cheeks, wiping your tears away. His hands pulling you to look at him. “But I also want you to share with me the concerns, stressors, and sadness you feel. The weight of your world is much easier if I am there beside you carrying some of the weight too, just as you do for me.”

[moon-dust-lust]

I write bad stand up comedy so thanks

So nice of everyone to come tonight, on a good day I have no more than four people that look at me at one time, so this is definitely making me severely uncomfortable. I'm only 20 years old which means just like every other 20 year old I cry in the shower and use tinder. I at first thought of tinder as a great way to pick up prey as a serial killer. I watched criminal minds a kid and I watch FOX news so every predator showcased on those forums are white dudes. I am also from eugene oregon so pretty much all of tinder looks like the milk aisle. Some are organic, some are fat free and others are being fought over by two different women who will send you death threats over facebook and try and sabotage your relationship. It is just great. Anyways, I recently decided as an in debt 20 year old with too may bills to pay and a customer service job that I'm already dead inside, so if I died it'd be pretty much how it is now except I would no longer have obligations and all the guys from my high school would finally pay attention to me. My first experience was just as about as fucked as it gets. He was this hot guy, six foot, covered in tattoos. He had just moved from utah, or illinois or somewhere else unimportant. He asked me for my snapchat, which ws already a flag because he was 26 and no one except someone over the age of 12, a soccer mom that's had a little too much wine, or a celebrity uses it; but I let it slide. So he's sending me pics and it looks like he's outside. He's sitting in a tent and so I'm like, "oh are you camping? that's fun. Don't let me keep you from anything". He's all, "No I live in a tent". Come to find out he had no job, no car and was living in a tent on someone's property. He was a homeless man. Now, how I found hopefully the only homeless man on tinder is beside me, but the weirdest part is how he had a phone still and also how he thought he could pick up chicks. Like did he think as a date i would let him shower at my place? Or was he thinking my ass would get fully dressed up in make up and heels just to spend the night in his tent? Would he make me bring my own firewood and sleeping bag? My own can of beans?  My experiences with men are pretty much summed up by this interaction alone. My first date ever, I showed up at this guy's house and it was infested with rabbits. I am talking ten or twelve. Then he took me up to his room to watch a movie, door open because this was high school and I had never even seen a condom before and his mom was downstairs watching something with jennfier aniston in it. His room was COVERED in pictures of his ex girlfriend. Pictures she drew of them, gifts she gave him, pictures of them together etc. SO, I was so uncomfortable but I was thinking it was probably just because he was too lazy to take them down. I was so wrong. So, so very wrong. Let me preface this by saying this was my first date, EVER. I had no idea what it was supposed to be like. He was a quarter back and he was all in shape and tan and that was pretty much all I knew about it. He had a really cliché rich white name and he was one of the only sophomores with a car and no curfew. He was a real bad boy. So after my date I got approached by his ex girlfriend at a party. She then told me that he was sending pictures of me while I wasn't looking to her and telling her how great of a time he was having and how he didn't need her. This was my first god damn date. I just cannot believe the progress I have made in the 5 years I have been dating. I never dated in middle school because i wore blue eyeliner and had a perm in the late 200s. I was really setting myself up to fail to begin with. I had one relationship that lasted three years. There is this funny thing about guys where they start out pretty normal and then after they really get comfortable they start to cheat on you and go crazy. It is just the weirdest thing. It's like the gremlins except instead of not feeding them after midnight you provide the with emotional stability and all the love in your hard. Big mistake ladies, Am I right? This guy I dated was so much fun. There was one time he told me I was absolutely perfect. He would tell me "Everything about you is perfect, except you could use a boob job". look, I will be the first to say i have the littlest titties in america, but I'll be damned if you dont appreciate them. They are like one piece of chocolate or the very back row of seats of a concert. You're just glad you got a little taste of your favorite thing, okay? I am like the bronze medal you get at a sporting event. Bitch you should just be happy you got any trophy at all. This guy was a real whackadoodle. He would cheat on me and then not let me go out with dudes, or ladies, bisexual pride woot woot, because he thought i would cheat to get back at him. But jokes on him because nobody likes me and I also didn't have any friends. I ended up breaking up with him because he was obviously terrible and he decided to stalk me. All i could think about when he would harass my family and try and show up at my school and had his parents blow up my phone is, "now you miss my lil tities?" who was gonna pay for all this shit in the first place? where did he think i was gonna get the fucking money for this? I am a broke college student, I drive a car that sounds like an eighty year old at the back of a movie theater coughing and I work at a restaurant where everyone is so stoned, it's like I'm at in the middle of portland on a saturday night. I go to the university of oregon. A very fun school, full of people who have no interest in talking to me. In their defense half the time I have my headphones in and I am crying so I guess it's just in everyone's best interest to not get into it. I am a psychology major, which I call the boring white girl major. I got into it to become a sex therapist, mostly because I am not having any and really want to find out if there's a book on how to make people not continuously reject you, but also because sex is a hard topc and I talk about it like a human urban dictionary. The worst part about the university is the talking. There was one time I had a 200 person anthropology class and these girls from a sorority who all obviously took the class together to cheat and not do anything ever, were describing their friend tiffany or gemma or some other rich fake tanned name's vomit. The color, texture, smell, everything. They were analyzing what she had eaten the previous morning and all the alcohol she mixed and all I could think was, " if you spent half as much time talking about your friend samantha's vomit as you would listening you wouldn't be failing this class and self medicating with alcohol to the point where you throw up because youre a bunch of clemintine sharp nailed looking green beans". Like i pay too much to listen to you explain the thong you bought and how it chafes your butthole when you dry hump alex from the frat across the street who is also fucking tina with the fake nose and even though he gave you clamydia six months ago, you trust him now you know? I own one bra and one pencil. I am wearing two completely different socks, one is a knee high and the other is an ankle one. Whenever I am hungry i dont go to sushi, I go to bed. So please Gretchen from Bitch, Bump &grind and beyond stop and let me at least get a C so I can land a job that makes me 12 dollars an hour and I can be poor in a different setting. I work full time and go to school. I am not like most millenials. I don't have time to eat avocado toast or catch HPV. At my little restaurant in junction city, the staff is absolutely questionable. I was the first girl there who was single and under the age of 40, so naturally I became bate for every man in society you hope you never run into in life. The first was our host. He looked like bowzer from mario if he were a white middle class man. He was shaped like a tear drop, so his head was small and oddly shaped and the rest of him just got wider and rounder as you went down. He always wore the same button down shirt, I think to try and impress me, but like it was his only button down shirt. Anyways, he is what I call the lingerer. If you are a woman who has ever had a man like you at work, you know exactly what I am talking about. He would follow around, but like at a creepy slow distance and he would stare at me until he thought i was looking and then looked away. He would also reach over or around me just so he could be close to me. It's weird and painful to watch. He also asked my sister, who also works there, if i was a lesbian because i wasnt immediately interested in him. Let me digress for a moment and say that just because a woman rejects you doesnt mean she loves only vagina. It usually means you arent a good person, or she just doesnt wanna date, or she has a boyfriend already, or you have no common interests, or she doesnt want to mix work with her personal life or maybe she has something personal against blonde guys, white guys, guys with glasses, she dated someone with your name and its weird, she has a lot of issues with touching, you have weird hands, you have bad breath, you are bad at your job, she is asexual, or THERE IS ABSOLUTELY NO REASON SHE JUST DOESNT LIKE YOU AT ALL EVER. Men are so vapid about that sometimes. Anyways, he gave me a cash tip off one of my tables and I, trying to be civil was all, "oh i love free money thank you" trying to relate to him because he seemed like the type to bring a gun to work and I really wasnt in the mood to get shot or followed out to my car so i gotta keep is civil you know? so apparently you cannot be friends with sexual predators because then he gets all close and whispers in my ear "is that how I get in your pants, by throwing money at you?". The tip he gave me was only five dollars. If is ass thought having sex with me would cost only five dollars, he has no idea how bad inflation is or how much i spend on amazon a month. Also, even with my little titties and cellulite, no amount of money would let me fuck a guy who looked like barnie the dinosaur if he were a white pale ghost. I have very low standards, but they exist for sure. somewhere. deep down. The next guy i had was this old cook. he was 65 and he cooked in the morning. His wife was obviously dead, in his basement or both because he was always saying nasty things to me. He told me that if he were forty years younger he would hire me as his kid's babysitter so he could fuck me. He also told me he was extremely attracted to me and terrified of me at the same time. He one time came up to me and asked me what i had in my front seat because i was hiding something under a coat. He has rotted out teeth and children older than me. It is men like those guys that make me think, "am I really that bad to the point this is as good as it gets?