night rampage

2AM - part 4 (A Minseok Series)

Genre: Angst

Characters: Minseok X You

Description: You have been continuing a secret friends-with-benefits relationship with your best friends older brother Minseok, who is idol group EXO’s Xiumin, for two years now, while secretly concealing the very real growing feelings you’ve always had for him. A sudden blind date for you and for him suddenly forces you to face those feelings or end the relationship entirely.

2AM [M] - part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5, part 6, part 7, part 8, part 9, part 10, part 11

Your phone was ringing by the time you made it inside the cab. Minseok must have left the awkwardness of the restaurant by now and the on and off buzzing inside your purse punctuated the humming you felt inside your chest – you saw his name flashing boldly across the screen of your cell phone.

After the first three calls went ignored he was texting and the taxi was pulling up outside of your home just as you turned off the buzzing and left the phone to deal with ignoring the man you hated to have the misfortune of falling in love with.

Your home was quiet. Your cat was sleeping curled up in a ball on the sofa that you’d long since given up on keeping her off of and you slipped out of your shoes. As you walked through your home you slipped out of the expensive dress and you let the garment fall at the floor of your bedroom door way and kicked it lifelessly through the threshold, aiming for, and missing the hamper full of dirty clothes.

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i feel it coming.

Originally posted by joonjuly

i feel it coming.

members: namjoon, oc - reader

genre: fluff

warnings: implied smut, language, alcohol


stargirl all i knowa lonely nightdie for yousecretsnothing without yousix feet under

The bright sunlight peeking in from the slightly opened curtains woke you up. You rubbed your eyes and sat, stretching and yawning as though you’d been asleep for months. It wasn’t until you reached down to remove the blanket from your lower body that you realized you weren’t in your own bed. You glanced around and knew for a fact that you weren’t in your small, lavender smelling bedroom either. You shot out of the strange bed as though it was on fire, noticing that the opposite side was empty but looked as though someone had previously been there. Your head began to ache and you closed your eyes, rubbing your temple while trying to recall what had gone down the previous night. When you heard the deep humming from outside the room your mind seemed to click and remember what exactly occurred during your slightly drunk rampage the night before.

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Xander was led through the castle corridors by his retainer, his wary frown deepening at every passing moment. “And you gave this order to the chef because..?” “Things have become too dreary as of late, milord. I thought perhaps I could liven our spirits with something everyone loves: food,” came the all-too-casual reply from Laslow. “Back where I’m from, we celebrate all we’re thankful for by gathering our loved ones for a huge banquet.” The prince was sure the creases upon his forehead would become a permanent fixture, but he declined to inquire about Laslow’s mysterious home, or how he could introduce such indulgence from it to a kingdom with scarce food supply to begin with. Instead he hmm’d, and continued to follow his merry subordinate down to the kitchen.

As they neared, Laslow began to brag more of what awaited for his prince to see: pheasant, chicken, pig, beef, a cauldron of soup, fruits and vegetables, pies, and so much more. He detailed how the chef had said they would make this a dinner to never forget, and guessed that the cooks must have worked all night and day to bring each meal to perfection. Laslow’s eagerness to show off the awaiting layout was contagious; the stolid prince himself was becoming interested to see this for himself.

Their shared anticipation screeched to a halt, replaced instead with a perturbed curiosity as a booming sound came rattling from the kitchen entrance.


The two shared a look before hastening to the archway. What they found was.. a whole mix of words, honestly. The kitchen looked absolutely ransacked. Cabinets were flung open, their shelves either bare or littered with empty bottles and bags. The countertops were a mess of food scraps and stains, plates and sheets strewn across them or else shattered on the floor. The cauldron was tipped over, only a small trickle of broth emerging from it. The large pantry was open to reveal it too was now barren of any sign of food or ingredients, only the empty shells of sacks, boxes, and barrels remaining. The main counter near the middle of the room was no better; the pans where the cooked fowls and pig were to be now only containing bones stripped clean of meat, indicating it was hit by the same disaster.

And said disaster was plopped down on the floor resting his back against it, the location of all the food that had disappeared resting between his sprawled legs in the form of a huge, gurgling orb. The belly looked unreal, so big and round that it would fit better on a monster thrice its current owner’s size. But that was not the case, made evident by how utterly engorged the glutton was, tongue hanging lazily from his mouth as he panted, each intake of breath making the tight mound swell only a centimeter under his gloved hands. His shirt and vest (and, if they’d been visible, pants as well) were long since rid of their buttons, now useless cloth lying over the top sides of the mound.


The wolfskin’s lowered ears perked at the sound of his name, and his head turned accordingly. His eyes were half-lidded, mind sluggish, and it took him a second to register it was Laslow who called to him - his liege, still struck speechless, standing next to him. “Oh..” He was interrupted by a soundless hiccup that made his torso jolt back and enormous belly jostle, a slight whimper tailing the act. Apparently just forming words was too much trouble for his system right now. “oof… Heya~” Even caught red-handed like this, Keaton could not be dissuaded from his pleased state; looking like the cat that got the cream was more truth than idiom in his case.

Silence would have fallen once more, were it not for the wolf’s stomach still busy processing its insane load. It gurgled and churned, glorped and whined, like a muffled factory overloaded with work. The wolf’s hands rubbing on either side seemed an effort in futility. Laslow and Xander, still caught in shock, were occupied with trying to piece together what happened. Apparently the wolfskin had caught the scent of all the food being prepared, enticed down into the kitchen by the succulent smells that poured forth like a torrent. If the smell enchanted him, the sight of it all must have driven him mad with hunger, awakening his inner beast as he lunged forth and crammed the nearest morsel in his maw. And from there he just.. did not stop. Anything edible was chewed, slurped, or otherwise gulped whole in the one-wolf rampage. A night and a day’s work, all consumed in what could have only taken an hour or so.

That just left one question. The architect of such an arrangement surely could not have left their work unguarded. Again it was Laslow who voiced their shared concern. “Wait.. where’s the chef?”

Keaton’s stomach rumbled, as if triggered by the word. The gastric sounds reached a fever pitch before ending in another loud, drawn-out belch from the unabashed glutton. He licked his chops, contented smile growing a tad, and gave his drum-tight gut a light pat. It was then that the two other men noticed the white hat and slightly torn apron resting next to the wolfskin. No further investigation was needed, much less desired.

Another extended pause, and then the two men at the entryway diverged in action. Where Xander remained planted in place, disturbed beyond measure, Laslow walked over to the immobilized wolf and kneeled down to join him in rubbing the churning mass. While Keaton certainly appreciated the extra pair of hands, the prince gave him a bemused look. “What are you doing?” Laslow returned the look with a defeated shrug, as if his hands were tied in the matter. “Well, it was my idea in the first place, so.. I guess this is my responsibility.”

He turned back to the wolf, rubbing his ridiculously packed belly with extra vigor. “At least someone got to enjoy the feast, huh?” Keaton could only make pleased sounds, tongue again flopping out of his mouth as another burp worked its way up his tired throat. Xander, meanwhile, resigned himself to be the one to have to clean up the bizarre mess these two made.

Holy god I actually did something on time.. barely! This time picture and a drabble! \o/  HOPE EVERYONE HAD A HAPPY THANKSGIVING!

APH Headcanon #9 (Nordic Rooms)

Denmark: Denny’s room is fairly messy, which ticks Nor off to the extreme. Soft, warm red-orange colored walls with white and brown blankets. Books can be found in his bed, behind cupboards, under floorboards. Oversized beanbags in the corner, and a massive shelf of containers filed with LEGO bricks. He’s always in the middle of building something.

Norway: Floor-to-ceiling bookshelves containing any book you really could imagine, and then some. Always a little shimmer of magic caught in the air. Spacious windows that let in the light, and a deep blue theme.

Finland: Soft and calming. Has an excess number of blankets for any reason; his favorite is a furry white one with small little Christmas bells on the corner. Little Christmas tree lights are strung in the windowsill and on the light blue walls.

Sweden: Is actually a total pit due to Sve’s occasional late-night Internet rampages. Has a bulletin board that he puts everything on; shit that needs to be done, pictures of his family and boyfriend, and newspaper clippings of interesting topics (aka furniture).

Iceland: Grayish and minimalistic theme with black and white photographs. Multiple perches around the room for Mr. Puffin to rest on. White sheets, kicked to the side of the bed at all times. He insists to keep the temp at 58-60°F every night, to keep him from overheating. Has a minifridge under his nightstand.

Hmm okay if I was like a supernatural being as cool as it would be to be a vampire, I’d probably be a fairy or nymph or something. Being a wearwolf would be okay but it’d get messy. Like I would hate waking up smelling like outside after a night of rampage b/c my wearwolf self couldn’t take a shower before falling asleep.

Fairies/nymphs are pretty mischievous and seem to just do whatever they want don’t have to worry about dumb pack or idk vampire society power dynamics.

[FIC] Dreamcatcher

Rating: T
Characters: Zero/F!Kamui
Word Count: 1240

For the anon:

Can one please request a nightmare-comfort fic featuring Niles and F!Kamui?

A/N: I’m blaming you for a sleepless night anon! I made the mistake of reading this prompt right before bed and then spent all night having a rampaging plot bunny prevent me from sleeping. (Also, I didn’t know who you wanted to have the nightmare ;;; so if I got it wrong I’m so sorry!)

Summary: Kamui has a bad dream; Zero comforts her… in his own way.

People are screaming. There’s blood. So much blood.

Her head feels heavy.

She looks down. Her hands are dripping with blood. No. Not hands. Claws?

It’s cold and dark. She feels like she’s at the bottom of an ocean.

The screaming is distorted now. Like she’s listening to them under the waves.

Her chest feels tight. She can’t breathe. She opens her mouth.

But there’s something already wet in her mouth. She swallows. It tastes like iron–

Kamui wakes with her own hand clasped over her mouth, muffling her gasp. Her eyes are wide as she stares up into the darkness of her room.

Fragments of her dream still cling onto her and a violent shudder racks through her. She presses her hand harder against her mouth, hyperaware of the man sleeping beside her. It’s a miracle Zero doesn’t wake from her actions since he’s a light sleeper, but he must be exhausted from yesterday’s skirmish.

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TITLE: Gingerbread
PAIRING: Roy Harper/Dick Grayson
WARNINGS: Sex, sexual tension, language, and a ridiculous amount of fluff.
SUMMARY: Roy wasn’t imagining things. His best friend was standing right outside his front door wearing a blue scarf and a familiar handsome smile. Roy was also pretty sure that the plastic shopping bag Dick was carrying contained presents.
NOTES: Merry Christmas, everyone! This is basically my present to myself. At first I just intended to write some holiday fluff between Roy and Lian, but then it evolved into this. It was innocent at one point, I swear. Now it’s just a very long drabble of some sort.
Also this is pre-boot. New Earth. Definitely not the New 52.
Beta’d by my Red.

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October 15, 2013

So Jaehyo has informed me that P.O believes that there is a ghost in the dorm. He said it’s because of the strange noises he hears coming from the kitchen at night. I don’t want to tell them that what he’s hearing is me eating food at odd hours of the night. Most people call 2 am - 3 am the “witching hour” but I refer to it as the “feeding hour”. Since I don’t want the other members to find out about my bad habits I’ve decided to make sure P.O remains convinced it’s a ghost. I will now make terrifying groans and noises while I go on my late night food rampages.


  • FF writer: *wants to write that Klaus killed Esther at night when it was raining* *goes to watch 308* *Rebekah says Mikael went on a rampage and killed a village then killed Esther* Ok it's plausible that it happened at night, rampages take a while. *checks that the ground they buried her in is soft* *checks time of day; figures they might have buried her the morning when they found her body* Ok it's possible she died at night and it was raining.
  • TO writer: *wants to say Esther died by strangulation* *glances at TVD DVDs* *starts writing*