#(gonna try to get writing sometime soon but i *am* online so feel free to come message & such y'all know the drill)

[antihcroes]

my cassie lang is blonde simply because i do not think the brunette look for kathryn fit her great. or it's more like - the brunette hair with the blue eyes really showed how different she looked compared to younger cassie. like if they were gonna do the hair i don't get why they didn't do the eyes as well? so - my cassie just has always been blonde haired, blue eyed like she is in the comics. i think the look fits her better anyways & marvel makes no sense to me. especially considering they changed hailee's eye color for hawkeye so like -

[fire-emblem-drabbles]

These Violent Desires

Pairing: Yandere! Risotto x reader

Description: You never really had much of a love life. Not for lack of trying on your part, thank you, it just never really happened. Of course, like most people you wanted it: a romance so sweet and comforting it swept you off your feet and left you on cloud nine. But between working full time, being chronically online, and not to mention a depressed mess, you didn't see that happening any time soon. Perhaps its good timing, then, that your ASMR channel starts to take off. Just the distraction you needed from your day to day monotony!

Content Warning: Depression, more depression, minor intrusive thoughts, parasocial behavior, use of female titles (queen, girl) and female reader (will come up more in other parts), I wasn't kidding when I said she chronically online, ask to tag, other parts will different/darker warnings

Rating (fic as a whole): NSFW Rating (Part): SFW

Word Count: 3640

Ao3 Link: These Violent Desires

Notes: I am SO excited to bring this to you! You guys remember the original these violent desires? I sure do! As much as I love that fic, that little series I realize... I really went in to it with not a clue of what my end goal was. Not a great way to write a story. With it being two years since then, and me reading a FANTASTIC FIC from @kneelingshadowsalome (DOG, on their Ao3) that inspired me to reconsider my whole characters and motivations I bring you... this mess (affectionate). I'm actually really excited to bring this back and im gonna start writing the next part as soon as I finish this draft. Also, note: I suspect tumblr isn't gonna respect all the formatting and fun stuff I did so feel free to check it out on Ao3!

Part: One | Two

Sometimes, you really hated your job.

Hated seeing all the cute, happy couples out on a date night. Hated seeing all the happy families and precious little babies. Hated seeing people be so effortlessly happy and carefree. Hated that you had to pretend to be just as enchanted. It made you bleed with jealously, and want to scream and hide in shame.

Although you did feel bad about your burning envy, you hated that it was somewhat malicious; it was just you wanted that same kind of love, someone you were best friends and lovers with-- who you had been together with for years and knew you as much as you knew yourself. Someone you could be yourself with, through thick and thin…

Thinking about it just made you bitter. These things don’t just pop out of nowhere. Relationships had to be worked for; love didn’t just appear. It had to be made, to be cared for and nurtured. So even if you wanted (cried screamed begged) that fairy tale romance to come of sweep you off your feet, it wouldn’t happen. Not unless you find yourself a prince charming awfully soon… And at your current rate well, it wasn’t likely too happen.

You were notoriously bad at dating and getting close to people. Of course, you tried dating apps and meeting new people through your friends but nothing really seemed to click… It didn’t help that you were incredibly dense, as well; with little insight on how dating even worked in the real world you were left just as clueless (and alone) as you came in.

You had a sinking feeling you knew what it was, too; beyond being dense or clueless. You had been struggling against your depression for the better part of your adult life. You got by with plastic smiles and laughs that didn’t really meet your eyes, living life just on the outside looking in. Maybe, people could tell. You always had felt a little different, anyways. Maybe one day you would get better. Maybe one day, you could find something to be happy for. Someone to be happy with.

Today, however, you have a job to do. Rent to make. Jealousy to stew in while you smile and nod and play the perfect little hostess at work. And then you would come home, numb and tired, and not be able to fall asleep. Just to do it again tomorrow.

Work is the same as usual. You’re the only support staff-- no back server to be seen. The servers are too busy with their tables to help you. Seat the table. Water the guests. Grab them bread. It’s all monotonous, said with a sweet smile and voice high and kind. Wait for the guest to leave. Bus the table. Set it back up. And wait for the next guest. Repeat, repeat, repeat.

Its one of those moments in-between, where your gaze is lost far off in the hotel and your thoughts are getting darker by the moment. You wonder if anyone would notice if you just left right now. Walked out into the night, took the wrong bus home, and see what happens where ever you end up.

The shrill sound of the phone ringing catches you out of your stupor. You glance at the phone in surprise, looking down at the screen. Private. Not entirely unusual in your line of work, but just interesting enough. With a gentle hand, you grab the receiver and speak.

“Thank you for calling the Mountaintop Bar and Grill, this is _____ speaking. How may I help you?” Talking on the phone was always easy-- no one could see your not as happy as you sound. Strangely, the line is silent a moment, so you repeat. “Hello, is anyone there?” You wait a few moments again, only hearing faint breathing on the other line if anything. “I’m so sorry, but I can’t hear you. Goodbye.” You hang up the receiver, frowning at the phone before looking at the time.

It was so slow tonight, your surprised to find its nearly time to close. You put up the close sign, take back the last tray and make sure the tables are wiped and reset for the next day. You make careful small talk with your coworkers, make sure that they never think to question what lies beneath the surface of you, and check out with your manager.

You walk slow to your bus, taking the time to put on your earbuds to drown out the world around you. You board the bus, scan your card, and take the same seat you do every time you ride. The same as you always do. The same playlist you always listen to plays, but you don’t really hear it as you open your phone and prepare for the bus ride home.

There was one thing that made you smile, though. Explaining it made you feel kind of silly (mostly strange), but you had a youtube channel. It was kind of small, less than 1000 subscribers really, but the community you built really made you happy. The type of content you created was kind of… niche, to put it nicely. You made asmr videos. Stuff like “Your shy girl friend asks you to spend the night during a big storm (she’s so scared! 🥺🥺)” or “Your roommate asks for your help with her homework (but maybe she wants something more 👀)” or even things a little more raunchy like “You accidentally summon an inexperienced succubus!!! (You Are A Dark Mage Looking For A Familiar)”.

Making them was kind of fun, but what you really enjoyed was your fans. Even if you had never shown your face, (some) of the people in your comments were downright simps. You really only lived for the attention at this point. You even got kind of parasocial with it, talking with some fans in your members only discord.

You scroll through the comments, reading them all and responding to a few while you had the time. Most were sweet, telling you how much they liked your voice and content, others talking about how much you made them blush and giggle. You can’t help but notice you have a new commenter, too. From the looks of things they’ve been following you a while, but have only just now left a comment.

@metal_metalica5

Next time, let me take care of you

It almost feels out of place, with the fully black icon next to it. It’s not like you haven’t had people leaving frankly strange and concerning messages in your comments, but this one rides the line. You wonder who could be behind the comment for a moment. Maybe someone just as depressed and lonely as you, seeking comfort they find in your stories and voice. Someone who just wanted to return the favor. You don’t want to consider anything else, really-- you’d like to think the best of this new commenter.

In the end, you like the comment, smiling to yourself. You check your members discord, seeing the server is a little more abuzz than usual. It was relatively small, with only around 60 people, many of which were lurking themselves. You’re not surprised to find its the same name as the comment left on your most recent video. Your mods and a few members have already greeted them, but you make sure to as well.

work work work today at 9:17 pm

Hi @/metal_metalica5!! Thanks for joining the server, and commenting on the latest video! It’s nice to have your support <3

You don’t wait for a reply, checking out your ats and whats happening in all the other channels. Interacting with everyone brings a smile to your face, and you find yourself grinning as you thank the bus driver and get off at your stop. Cool darkness greets you as you walk down the street to your apartment. Things seem okay-- its your weekend, and you think you could finish recording the last bit of your next video.

Safely indoors, you set your coat and purse down, and make haste to change out of your uniform into something more comfortable. Once you have on some comfortable clothing, you take a seat at your desk and open your laptop. Discord pops open there as well, but you minimize the window for now, opening your recording app. You had been teasing your followers about a 1000 subscriber special for a while, but the idea still made you nervous.

Your plan was to do a live stream/face reveal. It would mostly be talking and playing games, but people could donate to you and you would read out their message. You were still working out the logistics, but you suspected that you would breach 1000 soon so you had better hurry.

“You haven’t ate any food today.” You jump a little at the voice beside you.

“Glory.” You scold, looking over to your stand, Glory and Gore. “I’m not hungry, and I’m busy. I’ll eat before I go to bed.” You turn back to the screen, reading over your transcript for any typos and bad wording.

“It’s not a good idea to neglect the needs of your body.” You can see a frown reach her perfect, pretty lips. You always thought it was unfair your stand was prettier than you. You also thought it ironic that the literal ghost of you was better at taking care of you than the real, physical you (that often felt like a ghost). “You’re already suffering from a few vitamin deficiencies, which aren’t helping with your depression and anxiety at all.”

“Why are you worse than a doctor.” Truthfully, she was right. You should take better care of yourself. You knew that if she could, Glory would fix these things for you. She was a healing stand, able to fix any injury or disease from a person. But vitamin D deficiencies, your stupid little brain chemicals being imbalanced and giving you the Big Sad? Nope. Out of her hands, unfortunately. Ironic that you would have a healing stand and suffer from one of the things she couldn’t fix.

“I just want to see you better.” You look to her, even if she doesn’t have eyes to really see you also, she frowns. Funny, how she was also much more logical and level headed than you.

“Fine, fine. I’ll find some food.” Her hand stops you as you reach for your phone, a stern look taking over her. “Finnnnne, no doordash.” You sigh and place your phone in your pocket, and stand to go to your kitchen. Seeing you head that way, Glory de-manifests, content in knowing you would try to find something to eat.

“...Need to go grocery shopping.” You sigh as you look through the fridge. You really didn’t mind her looking after you. You were aware just how stands were manifest of a users soul and desire-- you wanted someone to take care of you, since you seemed to be failing to do it all by yourself. But at this particular moment, you didn’t have that: what you did have was cheese, and butter. And… turning around, yes, you still have some bread, not yet moldy. Grilled cheese dinner, queen.

You’re even lucky enough to find a singular can of tomato soup in your barren cupboards. Hell yeah, that’s a whole meal. And one you can make in less than 10 minutes. Look at you, being all self sufficient. Queen of mental health over here, cooking her own meals.

As you butter bread and let the pan warm on the oven (soup uncondensed but not quite in the microwave yet), you read more discord chats, surprised to find you have multiple ats all in the gen chat (and a few in the mod chat as well). Everyone is abuzz, with “several people typing” showing up on the bottom of the screen. Gen is moving too fast so you move to the mod chat to see whats happened.

The Best Mod (Jax) today at 10:22 pm

holy shit work work work get in here

Ya Boiiii (Niko) today at 10:22

@/work work work ‼️‼️‼️‼️

work work work today at 10:23

why is everyone going crazy lol whats up

Ya Boiiii (Niko) today at 10:24

smh she don’t even know

The Best Mod (Jax) today at 10:24

you’re over 1000 subs 😤

was like 1010 last I checked

Ya Boiiii (Niko) today at 10: 25

just keeps going up ‼️

work work work today at 10:26

wha

am grilling chesee hold up

You put your phone down, placing the bowl of soup in the microwave and setting the timer with beating heart. Over 1000 subs already? You take a deep breath and place the bread, butter down in the hot pan, placing a generous handful of cheese on top and then the next piece of bread. You pick up your phone barely hearing the sizzling of the bread, instead closing discord to open youtube.

Sure enough, your creator widget shows it: 1013 subscribers, at least a hundred or more than when you last took a look at it. The number was indeed still going up, as when you refresh the page it now reads 1015.

“Where are all these people coming from?” Is all you can wonder. You send a quick “holy shit” to your mods, but quickly return to your food when the beeping microwave calls for your attention.

You pull your soup out quickly, and realize your grilled cheese is starting to burn on the first side and flip it over, relived to see you got to it before it got too bad. Little burnt never hurt anyone anyways. Even as you feel renewed energy and excitement moving through you, you make sure your food is all ready, make sure to turn off the stove top, and fast walk back to your desk with your dinner, eyes quickly going to discord again.

You make sure to send a message in the gen chat, telling everyone thank you and that you’ve seen the good news. Reading back on messages, it seems another popular asmr youtuber (a guy, one you actually follow yourself) had brought you up. He was apparently live streaming (right now), and one of his followers had sent a donation, asking about his thoughts on you. And apparently, he loved your content-- was excited to see what you would do once you hit 1000 followers and not so subtly encouraged his (thousands) of followers to check you out.

work work work today at 10:31 pm

holy fucking shit!?!?! fuckging,,, golden experience likes my content ⁉️⁉️

I can die happy now

im dead

Ya Boiiii (Niko) today at 10:31 pm

nooo don’t die

work work work today at 10:32

joining his stream rn

gonna try to lurk but also I wanna thank him 🥺

The Best Mod (Jax) today at 10:32

im already in lol

I’ll tell everyone you’re here :)

work work work today at 10:33

wait nOOO

You tab out over to youtube to where the stream has finally loaded, to see Mr. Golden Experience ASMR himself smiling.

“Oh, look, it seems our new favorite has joined us. Hello, Gore Gone Wild.” He smiles, sweet and serene at the camera and you feel your heart pound a little.

@/Gore_Gone_Wild

omg hiii!! My mod told me you gave me a little shout out, thank you so much :D

You try so hard to be normal. All the sudden, you’re the fan interacting with your fav. Your dinner goes ignored, soup and grilled cheese cooling as you focus your efforts on Golden Experience's stream.

“It was a donation from your mod that brought the topic up.” He laughs soft and sweet. When you look to the top donations of the stream, you can see Niko’s youtube (@onionthepaladin) at on the top of the banner, having donated $100.

@/Gore_Gone_Wild

omggg that’s… literally so sweet of him. And you!! I’m also a big fan of yours <3

That’s it, you have to kill Niko. You have to travel across the united states, kill your mod, and make sure he never pulls this shit again. You suddenly feel so embarrassed, so light and free.

“Don’t be too rough with him.” Another sweet smile reaches him. God, he’s literally so pretty and perfect. Like, the opposite of you really. How could someone so put together like anything about you…? Oh yeah, you were hiding behind a screen. That’s why. Super easy to keep up the charade… “Truth be told, I’ve been your fan for a while. I was also excited to see what you would do for 1000 followers.” You smile wide as his chat echos his excitement.

@/Gore_Gone_Wild

welll… since its you… I guess I can let you in on my secret :) but only you! Not even my followers know yet so… I’ll dm you :3c

You feel so giddy when you see his eyes widen, see his smile widen a hair.

“Well, I look forward to seeing it.” He chuckles again, and returns to the conversation from before your arrival. His stream is nice noise to eat your now cold dinner to, as your heart hammers a bit when hitting up his dms on twitter. You send him a cute little message, telling him your plans: how you wanted to do your first live stream, reveal your place, and just chill with your followers, playing some games and taking read requests for him. But if he had suggestions, or tips for live streams, you would love to hear them.

You hear a buzz on stream, and watch as Golden Experience picks up his phone. “Looks like miss Gore just dmed me.” He smiles as his eyes scan your text. “I don’t want to seem desperate chat, should I wait to respond?” You watch as chat moves a little faster, some people spamming “simp”, others saying “she’s still here lol”. A few people leave actual advice, to which he reads a few aloud.

“Hmm, you’re right, shouldn’t leave a lady waiting.” He winks at his face cam and you nearly die. You’re gonna have to watch something else, now. Quickly leaving his stream, you take a moment to simply breath at your sub feed, heart pounding fast. You hadn’t been this excited in forever… Guess now it was time to tell your followers for real what what happening.

It’s actually your weekend, you have the next three days off… So with that in mind you go about telling everyone your plans. Your mods (Jax, Nico, and Sammy, whose probably already sleeping), already know, but after Golden Experience, you tell your discord your plans to host the live stream in the next two days.

Then, take a teasing little picture of your setup, with just a little plushie sitting next to your screen. “Excited to see you all this friday :3 Here’s to 1000!” is all the post itself says, but you make a live stream reminder on your page just so everyone knows what happening. You’re so excited you refresh all the pages, seeing at the night owls commenting on your posts with excitement. Now, you aren’t surprised to see a familiar name among them.

First comment on your youtube belongs to you newest member, @metal_metalica5, with another kind of ominous, but not quite out of line comment that simply reads “I know you’re perfect already, bella.” Second comment belongs to Golden Experience himself, commenting from his own account that says “Look forward to seeing you! I’m happy to see you’ve grown so much”.

You tear yourself away from your phone screen, and have to close your computer not to end up just replying to comments on that. You steel yourself to take your dishes to the sink, and actually wash them, too excited by the nights events to even realize that you were. You’re even too excited to review your writing, or record it for that matter, so in the end you end up pacing around in your nerves.

Pacing only wears you down so much, so you decide to lay down with your phone pulled close to your face. Curiosity gets the better of you as you look to the comments again. You click on the profile of @metal_metalica5, curious to see if he has anything on there. He hasn’t posted anything to youtube, nor has he created any playlists for that matter. With the pure black icon, it seems like he doesn’t want anyone to really notice or see him.

You recall he joined your discord as well, and open that up (to tell everyone goodnight, you convince yourself), only to find yourself scrolling through your members to find him offline, with the same blank icon and user name. He has no server profile, no custom status, no banner nor nitro. But… interestingly, it says he joined discord today: member since April 3 rd , 2024, joined April 3 rd , 2024. He must have created discord just to join your server. Perhaps even, he created a youtube account just to comment on your stuff. The idea has you smiling. That someone liked what you created so much, they had to subscribe. Wanted to be closer to you. Were interested in getting to know you beyond what you posted…

Soon, you grow too tired to keep your phone up. Your eyes slowly close, phone cuddled to your chest. Tonight, you sleep tight, content and happy with your online life. When you woke up, it would be the same, gray world as the one you woke to today, but it would be different, better-- because there was something to look forward to. Something, if even for just a little while, to stave off the monotony and sadness and jealousy. For a little while, you could be Gore_Gone_Wild, and everyone will adore you.

Oh, and you'll have to read that DM Golden Experience sent you too! You got so excited you nearly forgot you messaged him.

[korasonata]

I had someone last time ask me about time stamps, so all of these from this point out will have the time stamp at the top of each set of quotes. I am currently in the process of retrieving the time stamps for the previous 5 posts, and will link an updated version when I have retrieved them all.

Link to the video is here: https://m.twitch.tv/videos/1149389841

Favourite moments of Joe and Cleo model streams part 6!

(I am very sorry I tried very hard to make this not as long as it is. There will probably be another extended cut post because there was just SO much happening in this stream)

—

00:00:57

Cleo: Welcome to the stream. Mine and/or Joes. Or, both.

Joe: Yay!

Cleo: I suppose that’s what the “and” means. In that statement. That would make sense. Glue pot’s ready—

Joe: It makes sense to me.

Cleo: …that makes me even more nervous that it makes sense to you, Joe. Not gonna lie.

—

00:16:34

Joe: So, anyway, last night at dinner, uh, like I— I had put this interview on while I was cooking and I kinda left it on as my daughter sat down for dinner and I was like “hey, this is an interview with this very famous journalist from about 50 years ago. Uh, he’s got a really interesting voice and a really interesting cadence, and I wanna kind of listen to it so I can— maybe copy it as like a joke in one of my videos.” And my daughter listens to it for about a— a minute—

Cleo: And then says “now that’s— is that you?”

Joe: *laughing* She just turns to me and she’s like “my friend…her parents got her…did you know they make crayon applesauce now? It says crayola. It tastes. Like they’ve blended a brown crayon. And sprinkled it on top.”

Cleo: That sounds grim.

Joe (prideful laughing): And it just kind of matches the cadence while also talking about something terrible to ingest?*laughing* And I just start cracking up because like— *laughing continues* she gets it! And she’s just like “why are you laughing?” Because you just— you nailed it! You nailed the pauses, you— you nailed the subject matter, like this is— this is just great!! And she’s like “no! This is a real thing! This crayon applesauce is terrible!” And I’m just laughing and laughing and she’s like trying to explain why it’s not good, and I’m like “I understand why it’s not good, but—“

Cleo (reading chat): “Joe’s daughter is awesome.” I think you’re probably correct. Joe’s daughter is indeed awesome.

Joe: Yeah, I’m very very happy with my daughter. (Reading chat) What was for dinner? Well not crayola applesauce!

—

Cleo (in response to someone complimenting her 3rd Life videos): Awe! Thank you joytobake, that’s really nice! I am…always pleased when people like my personality. Because I’m never sure that people should, you know?

Joe: Yeah, that’s— that’s what we were talking about— I think before we started streaming, was like, Cleo really gets me, and that’s a huge red flag.

Cleo: That’s a— yeah. As a human being. Understanding Joe - massive red flag. Huge. This is a danger. To everybody. And particularly Joe.

Joe: It’s the terror of being truly known.

—

00:47:08

Joe: Up until this point I didn’t show the instructions, but now I feel like I have to.

Cleo: Because otherwise people are going to judge your competency?

Joe: Yeah! They’re gonna go “ok. Any idiot can figure out how these pieces go together” but if you look at these instructions, that’s not true. I’m a spectacular idiot, and I have no idea what I’m doing with these.

Cleo: I mean. I want— I want to confirm. Yes. Spectacular.

Joe: Yes. Thank you Cleo.

Cleo: *snicker* You’re welcome Joe. I always like to insult the people I care about the most.

Joe (quietly): I know…I appreciate it.

Cleo (Watching chat): I’m waiting for Cam to confirm that.

(Cam in chat: She insults me SO MUCH, she called me a gibbon last night…)

—

00:59:42

Joe: *reading tips*

Cleo (reading chat): “you can’t stop Joe when he’s on a role.” This is true.

Joe (not paying attention): *still reading tips*

Cleo: I mean you can, you just have to go: Joe. Joe. JOE. And then he stops sometimes.

Joe (quietly, but with emphasis): WHAAAAAAAAAAT??!?

Cleo: I’M DOING A THING!

—

01:00:46

Joe (reading tips): “This is an encouragement donation for more of you singing in the future.” Ooo, I think Cleo would like that because the future is not now.

—

01:02:23

Cleo (genuine singing): Ground control to major Tom…

Joe: *listening in awe*

Cleo: …That’s…pretty much all I know…

Joe: Oh, I was gonna let you keep going, I— I wanted to hear more.

Cleo: Oh no. That’s pretty much all I know.

Joe: But yeah. Hypothermic haddoc writes (singing) “tell my wife I love her very much!” …I was waiting for you to jump in with the (singing) “she knoooooows!”

Cleo: Again. Again, I don’t know the song very well.

Joe: Oh. And here I am sitting in my tin can—

—

01:47:54

Cleo: *leaves to get a drink*

Joe: While you’re getting your drink I guess I’ll provide some musical entertainment.

SILENCE

Joe: …I don’t have anything prepared. So, let’s see…do we have any birthdays? *laughing* if it’s anybody’s birthday I’ll sing to you while Cleo’s gone.

Cleo: I’m back.

Joe: Oh ok. Well, sorry birthday boys. And girls.

Cleo: feel free to sing to people. I’m sure people want that.

Joe: no…well, I was gonna do it while you were away cause I need to get up and get my drink as soon as you’re back.

Cleo: Oh, go and get a drink and I will sing happy birthday—

Joe: So I’m gonna go get my drink, I’ll be right back.

Cleo: —to people who have chosen to spend their birthday…here…I’m not judging, uh, but— (upbeat singing) Happy Birthday to you! You smell like a zoo! (Talking) …uh, etcetera etcetera… (Singing) I forgot how this song goes! Nevermind it sucks to be you! *blows a raspberry*

—

01:49:09

Cleo: I mean it’s Cams birthday on Saturday, and I will sing to Cam on his birthday. His birthday is not today. I mean he probably wants me to not sing to him on his birthday, to be fair—

[Cam: Please don’t sing to me]

Cleo: —but you know, I might do it anyway. Cause it’s obnoxious. And I will laugh. (Reading chat) “Happy Birthday! Here’s some genocide! Please don’t sing to me…” *laughing* I won’t sing to you if you don’t want me to, Honey.

[Cam: Not happy birthday at least lol]

Cleo: I might torture you in other ways though.

—

01:50:55

Cleo: Hiiiiii Jooooooe.

Joe: Hello! Joe Hiws hewe! I am back fwom my dwink bweak!

Cleo: …what is that voice?

Joe (in a Kermit the Frog/Swedish Chef/Yoda hybrid of an accent): I feewl wike it’s fwom home star wunner or something, I don’t know! It’s almost Kermit THe Fwog Hewe, but not quITe!

*Cleo laughing*

It’s a little— (Normal voice) I dunno. I still had some of my drink in my throat, so I was like— I didn’t wanna like accidentally cough it out on the microphone as soon as I started talking. So I was just like (weird voice continues) I’ll do thIS vOIce

*Squealing giggling from Cleo*

(Same iteration of previous accent now blended somehow with the voice of Goofy from Micky Mouse) It’ll keep my mOUth in a shape that if I start— me coughing up a dwink it’ll just go into the chEEks on EIther sIde. It’s a natuwal, uh bARRier against, uh, hydration escapism! Uh yuh!!

Cleo: *giggles* Ok Joe. Ok.

Joe: *high pitched laughing* I don’t know Cleo! I’m just gonna keep making noises until people give me money! It’s jus— it’s how I pay rent.

Cleo: *laughing* Making noises until people give you— ahhhh…..

Joe: Yeah

Cleo: — actually…..yeah. Yeah. Yeah…Um (reading chat) “it’s drunk Kermit” *wheezing*

Joe (drunk Kermit The Frog voice): It’s 5:00 somewhere!

Cleo: *laughing* thanks for this. I needed— I needed this moment of— of— whatever this was.

—

01:53:54

Joe: So my daughter said the most Wednesday Adams thing to me the other day—

Cleo: Oh no

Joe: Except she didn’t do the deadpan delivery. She was very upbeat about this. So apparently “UP” has, on Dinsey+ a series of shorts about the old man and the dog. Right? And they’re called something like “a Dougs Life” cause Doug is the name of the dog

Cleo: yeah.

Joe: and she goes “oh! And it’s short! Like a dogs lifespan!”

SILENCE

Cleo: …Your…kid is very much your kid, you know that right?

Joe (proud dad): I know right?!

—

01:58:20

Cleo: I mean…you’d kill it at the Met Galla. Not gonna lie.

Joe (excited): Oh my god— I wanna get one of those Manuel suits that has like all the rhinestones and the flowers on it? Um, but, you know, like, those are very expensive.

Cleo: We live with what we can afford. Maybe someone can make you a Diamond encrusted suit that you can wear on camera. And have all the sparkles as green.

Joe (very excited): Oh my gosh— actually— so—

02:20:45

Joe: Meanwhile in my Discord everyone’s posting what they describe as “eye searingly beautiful” lime green wedding dresses. For my next wedding. Um—

Cleo: *snicker* is that what you’re wearing for your next wedding?

Joe: you know, honestly at this point I don’t wanna make any assumptions about anything.

Cleo: *cackling*

—

02:31:07

(This is context for the next one)

Cleo (reading chat): “some people have too much time on their hands” I mean, I personally would not drive 8 hours to see— um…

Joe: …me?

Cleo: I dunno, I might drive 8 hours to see you.

Joe: I offered to drive 8 hours to see you when you were coming to Disney and you said no, so I’m gonna assume that you would not drive 8 hours to see me.

Cleo: I mean, I— li— the key word there was “might”. I wou— I would have to have my mini frea— well I was freaked out at that point. When you offered, and and I was just like “oh god no.” Because, you know, social anxiety is a thing.

Joe: Mhm. I’ve heard of that.

Cleo: Yeah. And I do not do well particularly meeting people for the first time, even people I’ve known for a while. I go very very quiet and umm…I think it’s worse actually with people that I’ve known for a while? Um, online, um…because— cause my brain goes “well you’re gonna make a s—your, your— your going to do something and say something stupid. You going— they’re gonna hate you in real life” um…so, yeah. My brain absolutely freaked out at that moment.

—

02:34:12

Cleo: But, you know, like I say, I get hate mail on the regular, it’s fine. I mean part of that is daring to be a woman on the Internet, but only part. The other part is the fact that I’m also an awful human being. So, you know.

SILENCE

Cleo: …the silence isn’t doing— the silence doesn’t do you— do me any favours Joe.

Joe: Well, you know, I didn’t wanna talk over you when you’re sharing your insecurities.

Cleo: yeah….

Joe: That seems rude.

Cleo: I mean—

Joe: So I wanted to make sure you were done.

Cleo: no no no no, that’s fine. I’m always done Joe.

Joe: And nOW I can actually tell you how I really feel.

Cleo: No, please don’t. Not onl— no. That will— that will make me even more uncomfortable.

Joe (upbeat singing): The praise train is on its way!! Choo choo!!

Cleo: Noooooooooooooooooo!! Nooo!!

Joe: For Cleo it’s her day!! Choo choo!!

Cleo: *noises of distress*

Joe: Cleo is really great!! Choo choo!! Choo choo!!

Cleo: *distressful crying*

Joe: She’s not merely ok!! She doesn’t have to be the best at talking to people for the first time!! Cause they’ll love her anyway!! And sometimes they’ll even rhyyyme!! Yay for Cleo!!

Cleo: *physically going through a full body cringe* noooo

Joe: See, it would have been rude if I did that in the middle of your thing.

Cleo: *sob laughing*

Joe: That would not have been socially acceptable.

Cleo (through tears): I’m not even sure it was socially acceptable now.

Joe: WHY NOT?!

Cleo: (sobbing and laughing simultaneously) I hate you so much.

—

02:38:05

Cleo (reading chat): “We all need a Joe in our life, who sings a theme song for us when we’re talking ourselves down” I’m not sure you do.

Joe: Yeah, that wasn’t really a theme song? Like, if I was gonna do a theme song for Cleo—

Cleo (with immense dread): Oh no…no…no…

—

02:43:07

Joe: I’d just like to point out (very obnoxiously high pitched voice) That this is Cleo’s average person voice, which means that 50% of people have an even higher pitched voice!

Cleo: …You know, I can’t actually stab Joe through the Internet. And I’ve always been upset about that.

—

02:53:36

Joe (with all the enthusiasm of a 16 year old girl gossiping at a slumber party): Ooo I wanna ask Cleo about giiiiiirls!!!

Cleo: Ask me about girls! I’m— I’m happy for you to ask me about girls.

Joe: Ok, so, do you— do you feel comfortable saying what your specific, uh, type of woman is? I’m— I’m curious about that.

Cleo: Um, it’s— it’s nerdy girls? Specifically. Umm…not too, um…you know, the kind of running, climbing, you know— sort of— person. You know, it’s— it’s the sort of— it’s the sort of— action girl kinda thing. I kinda like that type. That’s sort of my type.

Joe: Mhm. Yeah, like—

Cleo: Why, what’s your type of girl?

Joe: Well, uh, usually it’s somebody that is— very anti authority— un— un— dissatisfied with the status quo. So usually more punk, or that sort of thing.

Cleo: Yeah. That’s— that’s— that sort of plays into the action girl sort of thing as well. Yeah I get that. So yeah.

Joe: yeah, umm, you— yeah so I don’t know. Um— so not necessarily, uh, as focused on the athleticism element there, but I know like—

Cleo: Well it’s not really athleticism, it’s— it’s more— it’s more—

Joe: —in terms of like, um, hiking, cause like, uh, you know in college there’s like a climbing and camping club or whatever—

Cleo: Oh yeah, it’s not that sort of person. It’s— it’s more, um…getting out and having a go at things. Like, you know, not— not being afraid to—

Joe: Adventurous

Cleo: Yeah! Adventurous! That’s the word!

—

Cleo (whispering): I don’t know where this bit goes! *gasp* it goes over there!

Joe (whispering): You can do it!

Cleo: I can do it! I believe in me!

Joe: You’ll find a place to glue it! It doesn’t necessarily have to be the right place!

Cleo: I know!

Joe: You’re equally valid regardless!

Cleo: Thanks Joe!

Joe: You’re welcome!

Cleo: It’s appreciated!

[sadlysober]

dreammate

Dream x gn!reader Summary: Tommy’s curious to know more about Dream’s personal life and ends up ‘meeting’ his s/o. Warnings: none i think.. lmk if you find any! Just fluff-ish tbh. A/N: hi i uh usually dont write so feedback is more than welcome, feel free to correct me if i made any mistakes! If cc’s are uncomfortable i’ll delete it, but that goes without saying :)

Being a content creator has it’s perks. Such as being able to meet new people, meeting people you admire and enjoyed watching way before you became a streamer yourself. Or the fact that you can just hang out with your friends and the chat and even make some money off of it. You often get invited to hang out with people on Among Us, Rust, Minecraft, you name it. One of the biggest benefits of being a content creator was being a part of the Dream SMP. You were a reacurring character and the chat loved you. Your persona would often show up in fanart, alongside Sapnap’s, George’s, Ranboo’s and the other members. There would often be speculations on you dating one of the guys on the SMP. Funny enough, they never expected it to be Dream.

You had been dating for a month before making it official and are currently nearing the 3 month mark. The two of you decided to keep it quiet for the time being and had only told Sapnap and George.

After a long and fun weekend at his home in Florida, you decided to hang out on his bed, watching some tiktoks or whatnot. Your boyfriend was sitting behind his setup, getting the game started. It wasn’t long until his laughter filled the room. Every couple of minutes he would look over his shoulder to check up on you.

Curiousity got the best of you. What was he laughing about? You opened Twitch, and ofcourse, Clay wasn’t streaming. But Tommy was. You watched as Clay’s character hit Tommy’s, accidentally killing the boy.

“Call child services! Dream has killed a child!” Quackity yelled over VC. Tommy walked back to get his stuff.

“Dream, I am not liking this attitude of yours.” You heard your boyfriend chuckle as he was walking around the map. You looked over at his monitor as Tommy’s character walked into his screen. “Dream, can I ask you something?”

“Tommy, if you want to know where babies-”

“SHUT UP BIG Q I KNOW WHERE BABIES COME FROM.” His high pitched laugh and yelling making you tune your volume down.

“Go ahead Tommy, what do you want to ask?” Clay asked calmy.

“Why I was wondering, I have met Mother Dream and Drista, do you have any more family I can talk to? Can I meet Father Dream?” Tommy was trying really hard to look as serious as possible asking Dream.

“My family isn’t here right now.” Dream stated, looking at you with a sneaky grin on his face.

“Oh, alright then, do you- do you like being alone Dream?” You can’t help but chuckle at Tommy always ending his scenteces with ‘Dream’, making it sound so personal and serious.

“I don’t mind being alone, but I’m actually not alone right now, Tommy.” Your eyes focus on the man sitting behind his setup, Tommy jumping around on the monitor behind him. “Baby, would you like to talk to Tommy?” Clay asked, looking at you.

“Dream, who did you call baby? Is there a uhh Drartner ... no uh a dreammate?” Tommy stared into his camera and his chat was going wild.

Dream laughs as he signs for you to come over. He mutes himself from the VC. “Are you sure about this?” You ask him, walking over to where he’s sitting. “I am, are you?” You nodded. He moves the chair back a bit and motions for you to sit down on his lap.

“Alright Tommy, here’s my uhh, Dreammate, be nice to them.” You had put your phone down to still be able to see Tommy’s stream. He looked so impatient, yelling to his chat. 

“Wait, WAIT- guys wait.” He quickly typed into the game chat for the other players online to join your VC for some ‘action’.

Clay mutes himself again. “So Tommy is ordering some of the guys to join the VC, it’s just Tubbo, Ranboo, Callahan and Quackity, so no worries.” He hands you the headphones and you adjust them, being able to hear Tommy loud and clear.

“Alright Tommy, what’s up?” Ranboo asked, walking up to the two of you.

“DREAM, Dream can they hear me? Ranboo, Dream is introducing us to his Dreammate.” You type into the game chat that you can hear him.

“What’s a Dreammate?” Tubbo asks, joining your little group.

“Well, appearantly Dream has been keeping a secret from us-” You softly giggle.

“What’s he saying?” Your boyfriend asks, wrapping his arms around your waste.

“Hello? Hello? Are you there, Dream’s Dreammate?” Tommy’s character hits Clay’s, so you take the mouse and hit his back.

“Well hello there, Tommy.” You see the boy’s expression change from confusion to a somewhat dissapointed face.

“Oh hello, Y/N, it’s been a while” He continues hitting you and you run away from him “I actually thought Dream was gonna introduce me to his Dreammate. You got me there, real funny.” Clay put in the earbuds connected to your phone so he could listen to what Tommy was saying. “Who would want to date Dream anyways- oh, well chat, alright alright so you ALL want to -” The boy sighs, being way too hyper for the conversation.

“Tommy, I-I am dating Dream.”

“No, the prank wasn’t funny, Y/N. Dream has failed you, I expected better from him.” The bitterness in his voice is truly impressive.

“Stop killing me Tommy!” It’s your turn to thaunt him, getting out your sword and running after him.

“I think they’re serious Tommy, congrats you two!” Ranboo says, helping you kill Tommy.

“Does that mean you’ll be coming back to the SMP, Y/N? We never finished that thing we were working on.“ Tubbo asks ever so sweetly. “Thanks Ranboo and yes ofcourse Tubbo, I’ll be joining soon.”

<Callahan> poor fundy

Dream’s famous kettle laugh echoed through the room when he read the messege. “Dream, can you hear me, Dream?” Tommy asks, being able to hear Clay laugh on VC.

“Yes Tommy I can hear you.” He says, burrying his face in your neck.

“I- I have a question.” It fell silent for a bit. “WHY” Tears start rolling over your cheeks from laughter.

Once Dream catches his breath he finally comments. “Tommy you love women right?” You face your boyfriend, who is trying to keep a straight face.

Tommy looks straight in the camera. “What a dumb question, all I talk about is my love for women. Do you ever listen to me, Dream? It’s almost like you’re my boyfriend.” He made a disgusted face before cracking up again.

“Oh god” You whisper as you shake your head. Clay presses a kiss on your neck. “Well Tommy, I feel the same way about Y/N.” An ‘aw’ left your mouth before Tommy made a barfing sound.

“So are you gonna marry them?” Tommy truly does feel like an annoying brother sometimes. Your eyes scan the chat while Clay does the talking. A couple of shipnames and questions pop up between all the emotes.

“I don’t know yet, Tommy. Maybe someday.” He said, hugging you a little thighter. You softly press a kiss on his forehead.

“Alright, cringe. I have no further questions.” Tommy states. “I’m gonna go back to building my tower. Goodbye.”

“Bye Tommy.” Clay said as he left the game. “Nice talking to you!” You added, taking the headphones off. “That wasn’t half as bad huh?”

Ah, yet again the Dream SMP is trending.

[bbugyu]

can i kiss you yet? + hong joshua

a mutual friend always made a great excuse to see you, but he definitely wanted more.

wc.2.4k | joshua x gn!reader, fluff, first snow au, foreigners in korea squad up, josh is a tutor u are an ambiguous worker everything is vague shhh, there are really no warning this is just fluff, oh drinking, but only the once, miss park chaeyoung please text me back

haha..... i am....... im not........... im in my joshie feels ok do not talk to me about it im embarrassed. thanks @babiemingoo for ruining my life by saying joshua would fall in love with me, and i quote, "no cap."

~

you spent a lot of time with joshua. by proxy, mostly, but you enjoyed his company nonetheless. your best friend called him her brother - they weren't related by blood, but by circumstance, having separately moved to korea at an old enough age to take care of themselves but young enough to still need the support of someone going through something similar. they were neighbors, and rosie had no way of stopping him from barging through her front door at all hours of the day. she always yelled at him to let her have some privacy. he insisted that if she was doing something that required privacy, then she should tell him beforehand. you always just laughed from your spot on the couch.

joshua would smile and put up a hand when he pretended to notice you for the first time, as though you weren't the express reason he had made an excuse to show up. "hi, y/n."

you would smile back and wiggle your fingers at him. "hi, josh."

this happened almost every time you came over to rosie's apartment, and while you never intended to see him, you would be lying if you said it wasn't a lovely benefit.

she rolled her eyes. "don't you have a job?"

"that's the great thing about being an online tutor," joshua said, making himself comfortable on the opposite end of the couch from you. "flexible scheduling."

you realized you had never asked him about his work. "what do you tutor?"

he looked at you, and you thought you saw a flash of nervousness in his eyes before he grinned. "english. and korean. and algebra. and calculus, sometimes."

"that's, like," you paused, your head knocking to one side. "impressive?"

"is it?" he laughed. "i just voice chat with high school students in sweats."

you shrugged. "i'm bad at math and i'm pretty sure i'd be bad at teaching, so anything like that is impressive to me."

he nodded, the corner of his mouth quirked upwards. it was hard for him to believe that you could be bad at anything, but he figured math was an okay thing to be lacking in. "noted."

rosie coughed loudly, making you both direct your attention to where she was leaning against the kitchen counter. "if you guys are done, i would love someone's help deciding what kind of pizza to get."

when you left hours later, rosie asked joshua why he even came over, trying to imply that he was taking too long to admit he liked you.

he pouted out his lips and shook his head. "no reason. i just heard you talking to someone and wanted to make sure you're not inviting over weirdos."

she gave him a sideways glare, knowing that if that were the truth, he would have come over when mingyu showed up the day before. or wonwoo last week. or any of her other friends that frequented her studio apartment. but conveniently, he only ever barged in when it was you, and she had a suspicion that it was because he had learned to recognize your laugh through the thin walls.

the first time you ever met joshua, it was at a bar. you and some work friends had agreed to get drinks together, and when your coworker-turned-bestie got a call from her neighbor saying she got a package, you nudged her.

"is he your oppa, like, just a guy, or like a boyfriend?"

she squinted at you, registering your language switch "ew! oh my god, he's just a guy. he's like a brother."

you heard an indignant noise over the line at her exclamation, and you giggled as you guided the straw in your cocktail to your lips.

"am i lying, joshua?" rosie said, rolling her eyes. "are you not like my brother?"

"joshua?" your eyebrows quirked up, realizing he had an english name, and only processing after the fact that he also understood her. "is he like us?"

"foreign?" rosie asked, looking at you. "yeah, he's from la."

you looked at her expectantly. "well, is joshua free tonight?"

she laughed at you, but redirected the question over the phone anyways, then promptly invited him out to join you at the bar, and he said he could be there in 45 minutes. he arrived with 6 minutes to spare (not that you were watching the clock, but you totally were), and rosie waved him down to join your table, quickly introducing him to the coworkers you had deemed fun enough to hang out with.

"and this is y/n," she said, grabbing your arm. she leaned over to joshua, pretending to whisper. "the other foreigner."

you laughed and shook his hand, saying it was nice to meet him. he smiled back, warmly, and returned the sentiment. he was korean, you realized, despite being from america, and he was incredibly handsome. like, absurdly so, in a way that felt impossible in reality, yet here he was, gaze flickering over your face as you brought your (new) drink to your lips, and the liquid almost caught in your throat when you saw an entire galaxy twinkling in his eyes. you blinked when he went to get a drink, thinking you must be drunker than you thought to have mistaken the reflection of the fairy lights that littered the bar as galaxies, but for some reason, your initial impression seemed to suit him more.

months later, you went to rosie's apartment just to drop off some food - you were teaching yourself how to make korean side dishes, and she volunteered to be your auxiliary food tester if you made too much, which, big surprise, you absolutely did. she made fun of your cooler bag and your big puffy jacket, saying you reminded her of the grandma down the hall, and you laughed heartily as you made your way to her kitchen.

she had an essay to write, so you didn't stick around. shortly after you announced your leave and exited to the hall, the next door opened.

"oh," joshua said, hand still gripping the handle of his front door as he made surprised eye contact with you. "you're leaving already?"

you pursed your lips to hide a smile, wrapping your scarf around your neck. "already?"

"you usually, um," he paused, his hand going to the back of his neck, the other pushing into the pocket of his jeans. "you're usually around for a few hours."

you giggled. "i was just dropping off some food, rosie has an essay to write."

he puffed out a cheek and nodded slowly as he let it deflate. "i guess i shouldn't bother her, then."

you watched him avoid your gaze, then peeked slyly past him into his apartment. you had never been, but it looked neat. neutral. comforting. it seemed like him.

the jig was up, joshua thought, studying your eyes briefly. you clearly knew he only ever barged into his neighbor's apartment because you were there. he had obviously just given it away, but maybe you had always known, and you had just let him think he was convincing when he said he had no idea you were over. but maybe he was okay with that, because you never complained. and maybe that meant you liked seeing him, too.

"are you busy?" he asked suddenly. "i don't mean to keep you, but-"

you shook your head quickly. "i don't have plans."

"uh," he turned to his apartment before looking back at you briefly. "let me grab a jacket, i'll walk you home."

you couldn't help but smile. "okay."

joshua made sure he was quick to get his winter coat and a scarf, but instinctively adjusted his bangs in a mirror and checked his breath. he silently scolded himself for making this out to be something that it wasn't - he was walking you home, not taking you out. but he hoped he would work up the nerve to ask before the end of the walk.

"ready?" you asked, pushing off the wall you were leaning against as you waited.

he smiled at you, silently hoping he was. "yeah, let's go. it's gonna start getting dark soon."

when the two of you exited the apartment building, hands shoved into pockets, joshua commented that it felt like it was gonna snow.

"i think the forecast said tomorrow," you mused, looking up at the overcast sky.

he stared at you as you walked beside him, your lips curved upward in a vague smile as you thought about how much you liked the snow, and when you looked over and caught his gaze, he redirected his eyes just a little too late, then laughed at his own behavior. "sorry, you looked really cute just then."

you couldn't help but smile, nuzzling down into your scarf to hide it. "as opposed to normally, when i don't."

"not what i said," he defended immediately. "i think you always look cute."

you giggled into your scarf, hoping he couldn't see how flustered you felt. "thank you. i think you always look cute, too."

you caught a small smile sneak onto his face as he looked down at his shoes. "thanks."

joshua had never once seemed shy to you. a little hesitant, maybe, when you had first met him, but he exuded confidence. you got the impression that he knew himself better than anyone, and he was happy to express himself genuinely around people that accepted him. he was a bit of a smooth talker, you thought. he had a way of saying exactly what people wanted to hear, whether it was true or not. but today, now, he seemed genuinely reserved. quieter. like he wasn't quite sure what to say to you as you walked side by side on the sidewalk, headed to your apartment.

"what kind of food did you bring to roseanne?" he asked, trying to fill the quiet.

"standard fare," you said, smiling at how he used her full name. "kimchi, seasoned beansprouts, sweet potatoes, fishcakes."

"oh, korean?" he asked, looking at you. "i didn't know you cooked like that."

your lip quirked into a smile at the reaction. "i'm practicing. gotta please a korean husband if i wanna get a permanent visa, y'know."

"right," he said, nodding at your joking tone. "a korean husband."

you blinked, eyes focusing on something in the air, then looked up. "oh my god, is it snowing?"

joshua tore his gaze from you, looking around at the flakes that were gently falling from the sky. "i told you it was gonna snow."

"but the forecast said tomorrow!" you laughed, pulling a hand out of your pocket to try to catch some flakes. "has it snowed yet since new year?"

his heart fluttered lightly as he watched you shove your hand back into your pocket. "no, not yet."

you looked over at him and giggled at how much snow had gathered on his dark hair. "oh, jeez, it's starting to come down." you reached out to him, brushing some flakes off his bangs, and he hoped you thought his ears were just red from the cold. "if we don't hurry, you're not gonna be able to walk home."

that wouldn't be the end of the world, joshua thought. maybe if the snow fell heavy enough, you would tell him to sleep on your couch instead of trekking home. maybe the two of you could chat, alone, just enjoying company until too late in the night. and maybe your heating would go out again, like you often complained about, and maybe the two of you could wind up under the same blanket as you got sleepier.

"do you know that belief?" he asked, glancing at you as you walked. "what koreans say about first snow?"

you looked over to him. "no," you said shortly, switching to korean. "what is it?"

he laughed, but continued in english. "they say that if you're with someone during the first snow of the year, you'll stay together for a long time."

you stopped in your tracks, and he only made it two steps in front of you before he turned, looking at you questioningly. "together?"

he gave a short affirmation, blinking and looking away as he shifted his stance. "yeah, like-" he paused. "supposedly, if you confess during the first snow, it's good luck. or something like that."

you stared at him, studying his eyes as he avoided your gaze, a tiny smile creeping across your face. "josh."

he looked at you, eyebrows quirked. "w'sup?"

you giggled. "are you talking about us right now?"

"oh, are you confessing to me?" he asked, eyes wide and making you laugh as he slowly closed the short distance between you. "confessing during the first snow, wow. you must really like me. y'know, i always kind of thought you had a crush on me."

you rolled your eyes. "yet it took you four months to mention it?"

his nose scrunched up as he grimaced apologetically. "i'm sorry for making you wait," he said, quietly and in korean, close enough that you felt his breath on your skin. you just shook your head at him.

"i made you wait, too."

he looked between your eyes, and you couldn't help but feel like the snow was melting around you from his warm you felt. "can i kiss you yet?"

you let out a breathy giggle, enjoying the way his eyes creased as he smiled at you. "of course you can."

this moment, joshua realized, was one that he had imagined a million times in his head. in a million different scenarios throughout the last four months, he had imagined how incredible it would be to feel your lips against his. and when he finally found himself there, his fingers brushing against your cheek as he pulled you into him, the first snow of the year falling around you, he realized he had imagined it all wrong. because despite thinking that you definitely had the most beautiful lips that he could ever press his to, he had not accounted for the fact that you were smiling, and he was too, and that made them the sweetest. the most fun. the most exciting.

and he hoped you would let him keep kissing you for a long time.

[storiesungaa]

mobile rules & information

Since people don’t read rules all the way through i would like to preface this by saying: TRIGGERING MATERIAL WILL BE WRITTEN HERE. THIS INCLUDES BUT IS NOT LIMITED TO: INCEST, DUBCON, SUICIDAL IDEALATIONS, CHEATING, AND ANYTHING ELSE I WANT TO WRITE. BY CLICKING FOLLOW, YOU AGREE TO BLACKLIST THE TAGS PROVIDED IN THE FORM OF (trigger here) tw. DO NOT FOLLOW ME IF YOU THINK FICTION EQUALS REALITY OR IN ANYWAY HAS ANY REFLECTION ON A MUN’S MORAL STANDING. 

HATE WILL NOT BE TOLERATED AND ANY ANON’S I GET ABOUT THIS THAT IS HATE WILL BE BLOCKED/NOT AT ALL ACKNOWLEDGED.

THANK YOU.

about: this is an indie mutuals only rp blog for a multimuse with various fandoms from tv shows, movies, anime, and video games. mun is 25+, genderfluid lesbian, goes by he/him pronouns (but i am genderfluid so i don’t mind she/her pronouns, most just call me he/him) online and name Jay. Previously known as Ares and Snow.

Callout culture: Do not involve me in this. Period. I want no part of it and will block as soon as I see it, tagged or not. I believe it does more harm than good and something like tha is extremely harmful..

content: there will be some pretty heavy material featured here. such as suicidal thoughts, mentions of rape, incest, and anything else I want to write. I will not tolerate hate being sent to me about this and I will block anyone who tries to police me. The only hard limit i have and absolutely refuse to write is pedophilia.

Don’t ever be afraid to ask me to tag something!

side note: if you believe fiction equals reality, please don’t follow me.

discord: is open to those who follow me. simply ask for it. i do not write on discord though. ooc contact is highly encouraged!

disclaimer: i'm in no way affiliated with any of the actors, fandoms, or characters on this blog.  Banners, promos, and icons belong to me. Theme was made by inkfated.  all screencaps used to turn into icons on this blog are not mine and belong to their rightful owners. Lara Croft screencaps come from soulcluster. tsunade icons belong to hellspath. rectangle tsunade icons belong to me. Some psds are not mine. Credit to iconholic for Red Velvet psd. Credit to plutocommissions for psd 183 - wild. some psds used are made by rivercraze

Drama: There won’t be any. I’m too old for tumblr’s drama, if you try to start something, make me choose, or drag me into drama - you will be blocked.

DNI’s will get you blocked. I don’t agree with making people choose between people when there are things like blacklist and tumblr’s own filtering system to help you avoid a person

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follow/unfollowing: i usually follow back pretty quick. if i don't follow within a week, i'm probably not going to follow back. 9/10 i do follow back. i will not follow if i see vaguing, callouts, or any sort of drama on blogs. i also will not follow any under the age of 18.

if i’ve been following you for a month and you don’t interact with me within that time limit, I’m unfollowing. I won’t soft block because I’m totally okay with people still following me but I don’t see the point in following if we’re not gonna write.

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If I block you, do not come to me asking why. It will only get you blocked all over again. Do not ask why i’ve unfollowed you, either.

DO NOT FOLLOW ME IF YOU’RE A MINOR.

side note: if you’re the type to blindly believe a callout because that’s what everyone else is doing  save yourself the trouble and don’t follow me.

Memes: Send as many as you want for as many muses as you want just be sure to specify muse or they’ll get deleted! Always feel free to turn meme answers into threads, too.

Do not use me as a meme resource. Send something in or reblog from the source, please.

note:  if you send memes multiple times and there’s clearly a way to continue them, ESPECIALLY if we’ve never interacted before, and you keep sending memes but have NO INTENTIONS on replying to them, I will be less likely to respond to them. memes, in my eyes, are used as alternatives to starters. if you don’t respond to them after i’ve responded to quite a few, that’s me putting work into it for no reason really, so yeah.

My triggers: Sharks. That’s it. Just tag pictures of sharks for me please

nsfw: smut will be present here. i can not play the dominant party in smut, please don't ask me too. if you don't feel comfortable with it, we can fade to black, easy peasy. i won't make myself uncomfortable for some smut. All muses involved in smut or ships are 18+. If you think that aging them up is pedophila, do me a favor and get off my blog. Smut may happen with aged up characters but that does not mean it was done specifically for smut. Do not assume.

OCS: I love them. Send them my way, please!

OOC:  I post ooc, sometimes quite a bit, sometimes rarely. I am human and I will act as such. I will not tag ooc posts mostly bc i’ll forget. Sorry if that bugs people but like i said, I’m human and I like to write things down and share things with the dash.

OOC note: please do not flirt with me or ask me to date you, thank you!

Shipping: all muses are LGBT+ in some shape or form so if you want to ship, just let me know. They’re pretty open to anyone, though gay and lesbian muses will stay gay and lesbian. I ship toxic pairings and incest so if that’s your cup of tea, just lemme know, and we can work something out if not? That’s alright too!!

As previously stated, all ships and smut scenes are involved with characters 18+. I will never under any circumstance write something with underage characters. Characters, however, can be aged up but are never simply just for the sake of smut. Smut may happen with aged up characters but that does not mean it was done specifically for smut. Do not assume.

wait time: sometimes i can take months, sometimes seconds, sometimes days. I’m not a fast rper, please respect this.

writing: i generally prefer writing multi-para or novella. one-liners or one-paragraphs usually end up getting dropped or made into much longer threads as i have absolutely no chill. 

edit: from now on any drafts that are below three paras will be deleted, i don’t have muse for short things.

End note: Do me a favor and like this post if you’ve read my rules. Not needed but deeply appreciated. Also below you’ll find important links:

MUSES & NAVIGATION & MUSE INTEREST CHECKER & SHIP INTEREST CHECKER & COMMISSIONS INFORMATION & MOBILE MUSE LIST & THREAD TRACKER

[empower-bi-women]

Thank you for the request! It was beautiful and touching! 🥺 TO build on that storyline though can you have Shawn be there when I get the call for transplant? Just have it be where he's running through the halls to find my room and where I am and the surgery doesn't start till he says not goodbye but see you later. 🥺 I know this is a real weird topic but just do the best you can. Your writing brought me to tears! 😭

In sickness and in health pt 2

Word count: 1168

Warnings: hospitals, talk of transplants, angst if you squint, my bad grammar, bad ending??? I didn’t know how to end it.

A/N: I wrote this at 1am again because who needs sleep anyway. Not me! Also thank you so much for requesting a part two I hope I did ok! It really means a lot to me that you like this ❤️❤️❤️ and as always feedback is greatly appreciated. 

pt 1  pt 3

Waiting was the worst part. Both you and Shawn jumped every time the phone rang, hoping it was the hospital with those words you both longed to hear; we found a match. 

You didn’t know how much longer you could stand the pain. Every breath was like a sharp knife stabbing your chest. And Shawn, bless his heart, tried his best to make you as comfortable as he could. 

“Is that ok honey? I can get you another pillow if you need,” he looked at you lying on the sofa all ready for a day of binge watching all the marvel movies, “I’m gonna grab another one just in case.” 

“Shawn you don't have to, I'm fine, I promise.” You wheezed out. 

He emerged from the bedroom with two more pillows and the comforter off your bed.

 “Ok but just in case, I don’t want you to strain yourself while I’m gone to this stupid meeting ok? I still don’t know why we couldn’t do it online,” he mumbled to himself, “All you have to do is rest and keep your phone on,” he grabbed his keys before kissing your forehead, “I left some food already made in the fridge all you have to do is warm it up. I’ll be back as soon as I can baby. I love you.” 

“I love you too Shawn.” You snuggled under your pile of blankets as the door closed quietly, trying to ignore the pain in your chest. 

Sometime during Thor, you fell asleep, the pain finally fading to a dull throb. You woke with a jolt causing you to wince. You saw your phone buzzing and picked it up. 

“Hello?” The sleep was evident in your voice. 

“Hi is this Y/N Y/L?” A woman chipper voice answered. 

“Yes may I ask who this is?” 

“This is Etobicoke general hospital calling. We have some good news for you. We have a match for your lung transplant.” 

You gasped and fell to the floor in shock. You had dreamed of this day but now it was finally here. You felt relief flood your body. It was happening. It was finally happening. 

“Miss Y/L? Are you still there?” The woman asked. 

“Yes yes I’m right here, sorry.” You replied shakily. 

The woman laughed. “No need to apologize. I understand this is most likely a shock for you. We understand this is slightly unconventional but for the transplant we would need you to come in immediately, would that be ok?” 

“Yes of course I’ll be in as soon as possible.” 

“Perfect I’ll let the doctors know.” 

You said your goodbyes before calling your family to tell them the news. Getting in your car, you raced to the hospital calling Shawn on your way. 

“Baby guess what?” You had a huge smile on your face. 

“Captain America betrays Iron man?” He said with false surprise in his voice. 

“No and I didn’t even make it to civil war. I got the call.” 

He was silent for a moment, “The call? The lung call?” 

“That’s the one! I’m at the hospital now I’m just pulling into the parking lot.” 

“Wait why are you going in now? Don’t you have to fill out forms or something?” 

“Yeah I’m going to do that here, the nurse who called said to come in immediately they’re going to do the transplant now.”

“Holy shit!” You heard something clatter in the background, “ok I’m on my way I promise I’ll be there before they wheel you in for surgery.” 

“Ok but don’t speed, I don’t need you in a hospital bed next to me.” 

He laughed. “I’ll be there soon honey don’t worry.“

“Ok I’m going to head in now then I’ll see you soon. I love you.“ 

“I love you too.” 

Walking into the double doors you felt anxious, your heart was pounding and your hands were sweating. You’ve been waiting for this moment for so long and now it’s finally here you don’t know what to do. Walking up to the nurses station you tried to calm your breathing. 

Hello I’m Y/N I'm here for the lung transplant.” You said shakily. 

She gave you a smile and a clipboard and directed you down a hallway to your room where they would prep you for surgery. As you filled out forms you tried to stop your hands from shaking but it was no use. More nurses came in to give you a gown to put on. They tried to calm your nerves. Even offering to bring the priest up to pray with you. All you wanted was Shawn. 

There was a commotion down the hallway. You heard a loud ‘sorry!’ then footsteps thundering toward your room. Shawn burst in with a smile on his face. 

“You're here! I made it on time.” He said, relieved. 

“Yeah I still have ten minutes before I go in.” 

He moved around the room trying to find a chair. When he couldn't he decided to squish into the bed with you. Lying back he turned on his side to face you. 

“Are you excited?” he asked.

You took a shallow, painful, breath. “Yes and no,” he looked at you, wait for you to elaborate, “I'm excited to be able to breathe properly and to know what that feels like, but i also keep thinking of what if something goes wrong,” you looked at him with tears in his eyes, “and what if I never see you again. I can't deal with that, I can't say goodbye.” you were full on sobbing into his shirt now. 

He stroked your hair gently. “Those are all valid fears but lung transplants have an 80% success rate, you're gonna be fine. These doctors know what they're doing. And I'll be right here by your side as soon as you get out ok? And it's not going to be goodbye, it's gonna be see you later, because I will see you later.” 

The doctor walked in the room saying they’re ready to take you in. You took a deep breath as Shawn climbed out of bed.

“I'll see you later Shawn.” You said with a weak smile

“I'll see you later Y/N.” He promised. 

He blew you a kiss as they wheeled you down the hallway. 

Once you were in a room a nurse put a mask over your face and asked you to count back from 100. You could hear your heart pounding in your ears as you inhaled the gas before everything went dark. 

--------------------------------------------------------

You slowly blinked open your eyes. The room seemed so bright. You took your first pain free breath. Tears welled up in your eyes. “It worked.” You whispered to yourself.

“I told you you'd be fine, didn't I?” Shawn lifted his head from your bedside where he had been sleeping, “so what's the first thing you want to do with your new lungs?” 

You gave him a big smile. “Kiss you until I run out of breath.”

[bugmomwrites]

Animal Crossed Lovers (Tamaki Amajiki)

Alrighty so I haven't put any finished work on here in a hot minute, that’s my bad. ANYWHO my mom got me ACNH as an early birthday gift since my birthday (April 5th) just missed the supposed quarantine cutoff date for our area (7th). I may be be stuck inside while everything’s closed, but hey- at least the island of Escapism hardly rests 😉

(SW-3129-0651-5422)

Tamaki Amajiki x GN! Reader

Tamaki was never one to play video games, but he had to admit there was just something...soothing about Animal Crossing that melted much of his anxiety away. Nejire had initially preordered a copy for his birthday weeks ago, but her friend who worked at the local (s/n) (who he may or may not have been crushing on since their second year after they joined them at lunch one day) was able to pull a couple strings and get it on the fourth of March instead of the twentieth. Of course he had no idea, but he was so stunned when he opened it that it didn’t even occur to him that the game wasn’t even out yet until Mirio had reminded him. He didn’t question it though- his friend group was one wild card after another, so he guessed he shouldn’t have been too surprised.

He was thrilled, and just the fact that no one else had a copy yet made it feel all the more personal. Of course he knew in sixteen days it would be all anybody ever talked about, but for the time being it felt like the game, the little world he had created in the past few days with its gentle music and soft, wholesome theme, was his and his alone. The fact that it was a gift from his friends made it all the more special, and even if he had a hectic day at school he could turn on the console and water pretend flowers on a pretend island, and for those few moments, all was right with the world.

He was pulling weeds to sell to Timmy for bells when his screen pinged in the corner that made his blood run cold.

(Gamertag) is online

Playing: Animal Crossing New Horizons

That’s right, you had friended him on the switch after realizing all his friends had one, and now with a fourth person they could have a full team online. Mirio has suggested everyone exchange codes, and you had taken the liberty of showing him how to punch in the code and adding yourself while he sat there trying not to melt into his seat at how excited you got, or how nice you smelled up close. You had passed it back with a beaming grin, telling him you couldn’t wait to do co-ops. At the time he could only nod, speechless as the rest of his friends made idle chatter until the bell rung, and everyone scurried back to class.

He quickly realized he had left the terminal gate open when he was poking around the various features, learning about what each thing does in game. He tried sprinting to the airport to close the gates, and he made it to the dock before a big green banner flashed across his screen reading “you have a visitor!”

Out of the threshold popped your avatar, and for a moment he was grateful he could hide behind a screen. He wanted to be mad, upset even, that you had wandered onto his digital sanctuary, but couldn’t find it in himself because, then again, it was you.

The Nookphone in the top left corner buzzed to life, and he opened up the chat log with shaky hands. In a cutesy, pastel speech bubble was your message, and he wondered how something that was once so therapeutic to him could do a 180 and suddenly become the source of his anxiety.

G/T: Hello! Sorry to pop in unannounced, I hope you don’t mind^^

Tamaki felt his mouth go dry, reading it in your voice and after steadying his breathing, he painstakingly typed out a response.

Suneater: its ok.

G/T: It’s kinda hard to find others to play with when the game isn’t even released yet >~<

Suneater: Oh?

He should have known it was too good to be true. You were only visiting him because no one else was on yet. He sighed, trying to keep the dread from crawling back in before another note popped up.

G/T: The game doesn’t actually release until the first day of spring, but working at (s/n) has its perks. I saw the trailers and the hype and figured it would be the perfect game for you.

He felt a wave of relief wash over him upon reading that. So he wasn’t the last choice- rather, the game simply wasn’t out to the general public yet. But if that was the case, how did you also get a copy?

Suneater: thats nice of you

G/T: And then a little birdy told me you had a birthday coming up, so since I have a couple connections after I got my copy, I asked my manager if they’d set aside one more.

Suneater: you

Suneater: you were the one who helped get it early?

Boy did he feel stupid now. You worked at (s/n), (as you had literally just mentioned in your previous notes), Nejire got him a game that wasn’t out yet, you guys were all mutual friends- how did he not put two and two together?!

G/T: Yes lol that would be me^ you liking it so far? You picked a good name for the island too.

“Sunshine Island” may have seemed a little cliche to most people, but Tamaki had so many things in his life linked to it that by this point, it was just routine. Mirio was his sun in dark times. His nickname Suneater, even the sunflowers he had received from his parents for his birthday each year was tradition. He knew not everyone would see it the way he did, but to him, it was perfect, and he was definitely chuffed when he thought it up and punched it in for the first time.

To hear you loved it too sent a swell of pride through him, and he wondered if it was possible to love someone as much as he did just then.

Suneater: you really think so?

G/T: Absolutely

And with that, the two of you explored Sunshine Island together, he showed you his tent, the shops, and the little orchard of peaches he had arranged. You were impressed by the amount of detail and care that went into arranging everything, and asked if he’d be willing to help you with your island sometime, to which he obliged. 

You guys did some more walking, and he told you to feel free to shake theres and take a couple fruits with you. His native fruit was peaches, and in exchange you dropped a couple of your own fruits from your island on the ground for him to pick up so he could have more variety in his world.

G/T: There’s six different kinds, and each island is assigned one main type of fruit. the more you visit with friends, the more biodiversity you’ll get. Pretty cool right? I have some spare (F/N), and if you take and plant those, they'll grow and multiply!

His avatar hesitantly wandered over to the offering after yours stepped back a little to let him take them. Your generousity was surely appreciated, and even though you couldn't see it, he smiled softly before typing out a new message.

Suneater: Thank you. I’ll go plant those.

The game might have been synced up with real time, even getting darker after a certain hour- yet despite it being outside, neither one of you noticed just how much time had passed between all the bug catching, fishing, exploring and talking. When your screen loaded up a clock that read 2:54 AM, you blinked a few times, as if that would change the reading. But lo and behold, it was going for 3am on a school night, and you knew you both had to get to bed.

G/T: Ah beans its 3am, I gotta get to bed soon. Thanks for letting me hang out on your island, and sorry for keeping you awake >~<

Suneater: don't be sorry, i had a lot of fun. can we play together again sometime?

G/T: Of course! I can't wait to meet up again. Maybe we can visit my island next time? I should have those peaches planted by then, and you can teach me your ways, oh master landscaper.

Tamaki chuckled out loud at that, blushing, as he suddenly had a brilliant idea.

Suneater: That would be nice. Wait here a second.

He scurried off to a patch of flowers he had blooming, and with a shovel, picked up a few in your favorite color before making his way back over and dropping them in front of you.

Suneater: You can start by planting a few of these around your island. It is your favorite color, right?

Now it was your turn to blush as you picked up the (f/c) flowers he dropped in front of you, smiling like a goon at his burst of confidence. How he remembered your favorite color is beyond you, but hey- you weren’t complaining.

G/T: They’re perfect, thank you Tama!

Suneater: You're welcome. I’ll see you tomorrow?

G/N: You know it! Goodnight <3

And on that note you walked down to the airport, his avatar following close behind as if to see you off. It was a simple gesture, but appreciated nonetheless. Both of you powered down your switches for the night before plugging them in, and promptly hopping into your respective beds with racing hearts. It was the perfect end to your digital “date” and you couldn’t wait to log in again.

Thank you for reading! Feedback and reblogs are appreciated. Hope you guys enjoyed this as much as I enjoyed writing it. The inbox is always open for future ideas, so don’t be afraid to drop in. 

Also gonna tag @katsukisprincess​ cause I mean...Animal Crossing and wholesome Tamaki fluff. ‘Nuff said.

[captainlilyuniverseworld]

Son of A B****

Title: Son of Bitch Square Filled: Omega!Sam Ship (if any): Sam/Dean, Omega!Sam/Alpha!Dean Rating: T Tags: Omega!Sam, ABO, Mpreg, Backgound ABO Summary: Sam goes to see the doctor thinking there might be something wrong or that he’s too stressed, Dean thinks Sam’s just starting omegapause, turns out they’re both wrong Word Count: 2201 Written/Created for @spnaubingo

Son of A Bitch

“I’m sure you’re worried for nothing,” Dean said. “Just stressing yourself out.” 

“But it could be something,” Sam replied. “I’d rather just talk to the doctor and see what’s going on.” 

“Could be omegapause,” Dean mused. 

“…Are you saying I’m old?” Sam asked. “I’m not even 40 yet.” 

“Okay, pre-omegapause,” Dean added. 

Sam rolled his eyes. “Saying that isn’t actually making me feel better, Dean. If anything it’s making me think about morality and wills and burial plots.” 

“But you’re not thinking about what could be stressing you out,” Dean pointed out. “You’re welcome.” 

Sam snorted. “The way your mind works will never cease to amaze me.” 

“Sam Winchester?” 

He looked up at the sound of his name and saw a nurse standing in the doorway of the waiting room. 

“I gotta go, I’ll see you at home alright?” Sam added. 

“Everything will be okay Sam. And whatever it is, which is nothing, we will face it together. Like we always do,” Dean told him. 

Sam smiled a bit. “I know…Love you.” 

“Love you too.” 

Sam hung up as he stood and walked over to the nurse. “Right this way Sam. Since this is your first time seeing Dr. Sterns we have to do a couple routine tests for your file and then she’ll come in when we’re finished alright?” 

He nodded and went through the tests. He made a mental note to see about getting Dean to the doctor at some point. They were both pretty healthy, but it never hurt to have a doctor sign off on it. 

“Alright, I’ll take these samples to the lab and Dr. Sterns will be in a few minutes,” the nurse told Sam before stepping out. 

He leaned back in one of the chairs and tried not to let on how nervous he felt. He sat up straighter as the door opened and a young woman stepped into the room. 

“Sam Winchester? I’m doctor Sterns,” she smiled and offered her hand. “How are we doing today?” 

“Just trying to remember the last time I was in a doctor’s office,” he chuckled as they shook hands. “Moved around a lot for most of my life, so I’m more used to the whole free clinic, and urgent care types.” 

“Move around a lot for work?” she asked. 

“Something like that,” Sam answered. 

“Well, everything looks good, our labs are not too busy today so we should get those lab results back by the time we’re finished. I see you are a new patient with us, and you had a few concerns that prompted you coming in today. Why don’t we talk about those,” she said. 

“Right, uh it might be nothing, and it could just be me stressing out over nothing, I’ve been having trouble sleepy lately, and I’ve noticed that sometimes I get night sweats. I’ve also been getting headaches a lot more, haven’t been in the mood for sex much lately, my mate told me to mention that one, I’ve had some cramping on and off as well and some weight gain…I went online, and from what I’ve been seeing I guess I might going into pre-omegapause?” he explained. 

“If only all my patients were as thorough as you,” Dr. Sterns chuckled. “Some of the symptoms you describe can coincide with pre-omegapause. I see here you’re going to be thirty six soon, and it isn’t uncommon to start getting symptoms in one’s late thirties. However, what you’ve told me could also indicate pregnancy.” 

“Pregnancy?” Sam blinked surprised. 

That thought hadn’t crossed his mind. 

“You mentioned that you haven’t had your heat in a few months? When was your last heat?” she asked. 

“Mid May,” Sam answered. “And it didn’t last as long as it normally did. Usually it’s a week long this time it is a couple days. Three I think.” 

She nodded and wrote something notes down. “If you don’t mind me asking, why is it your first thought was pre-omegapause and not pregnancy?” 

“Well…if it was going to happen for me, shouldn’t it have happened by now?” Sam asked. “I mean…I’ve been with my mate practically all my life, and we’ve always shared my heat together, when I was younger I used to take birth control, but as I got older I started having bad reactions to it so I stopped, and there are times when we’ve forgotten protection, we just kinda assumed kids were just not in the picture for us.” 

“Have either of you been tested to know for certain?” She asked. 

“We were never in one place long enough to really think about it,” Sam admitted. He ran a hand through his hair. “But…you’re saying there’s a chance I could be pregnant?” 

“There is a chance yes,” she nodded. “The blood sample will give us a more definitive answer.” Her computer chimed and she turned to look at it. “Which, it looks like we’ve got the results.” 

“I haven’t been this nervous since I applied to Stanford,” Sam smiled a bit. 

“Alright, let’s see here. cholesterol looks good, negative for any STDs or infections which is good, and the HCG levels in your blood are on the higher side, you are pregnant Sam,” she smiled at him. 

“Really?” Sam asked. 

She turned the screen so he could see. “Normal HCG levels tend to be around here, but when you’re pregnant they’ll be around here, and get higher the further along in your pregnancy. In some cases, very high HCG levels could indicate twins or even triplets. Given your age, it wouldn’t be impossible for you to have fraternal twins.  Your hormone levels are a bit on the low side which could be playing a part in why you haven’t been feeling any nausea or morning sickness. That could spike the further along you get.” 

“Son of a bitch,” Sam sat back in the chair. “Sorry,” he blushed embarrassed. “I don’t mean to swear it’s just…the fact that I might be pregnant never even crossed my mind and then to find out I am, and that I could have twins…it’s a lot.” 

“Would you like to do an ultrasound?” She asked. “See what they look like? And it’ll tell us how far along you are.” 

“Uh yeah, sure,” Sam nodded. 

He got up and laid down on the exam table and unbuttoned his shirt while she wheeled over the machine. He shivered when the gel made contact with his stomach and watched the screen. 

“And there is your baby,” she turned the screen so he could see better and pointed. “Judging by the size, you’re just about shy two months, which means, you conceived during your last heat, which explains why it was so short. Generally once pregnancy takes, the heat is finished.” 

“Wow…They’re so small,” Sam was in awe. 

“Let me print you off a couple of pictures, and I’ll write down a list of prenatal vitamins for you,” she told him. 

She gave him some tissues to clean off his stomach and he sat up to wait for her. 

An hour had him pulling down the driveway to their house. After almost two years it was still weird to know they had a house to call home. A permanent home. He pulled his car in next to the Impala and grabbed the grocery bag off the seat and locked the doors before making his way to the house. 

“Dean?” He called as he stepped inside. “Hey boy,” he knelt down to receive a few kisses from their dog Zeppelin and Sam’s still not sure how Dean won that one one. “Where’s Dean huh? Where’s he at?” 

Zeppelin barked and ran over to the sliding glass doors that led to the back porch. Sam took the pie he picked up from the grocery store out of the bag and set it in the fridge. He was pleased to see the writing on it hadn’t smeared on the drive home. He hid a few beers and soda’s in front of it. And maybe that should have been the tip off. He can’t remember the last time he had an actual drink, as he’d been drinking soda and water a lot more. 

“Hey,” Sam stepped onto the back porch. 

“Hey,” Dean smiled. “How’d it go?” 

“Good, it was uh, it was good,” Sam answered. 

“See? I told you you had nothing to worry about,” Dean turned his attention back to the grill. “Figured I’d make kabobs for dinner. I even made sure to do a healthy amount of meat and veggies so you won’t complain this time.” 

“I don’t think meat on a stick by itself really counts as a kabob Dean,” Sam pointed out as he walked over. 

Dean wrapped his arm around him as he turned the kabobs over and leaned up to kiss his temple. “Well lucky for me, pretty much the whole world agrees that meat on a stick by itself does count.” 

Sam snorted and reached for a pepper. “I’ll go set the table. We eating inside or outside?” 

“Outside, the weather’s nice,” Dean answered. “Grab me a beer too would you?” 

Sam went back into the house and grabbed the plates from the cabinet and drinks for them. He stopped in the doorway when he saw Dean putting the kabobs on a plate, and tossing a few pieces of chicken to Zeppelin. 

He could already picture Dean standing at the same grill with their little boy or girl. Talking them through the intricacies of perfect grilling. Sneaking extra food to Zeppelin when Sam wasn’t looking. 

“I know you’re there Sam,” Dean said without looking over his shoulder. 

“He’s gonna get fat if you keep sneaking him food like that,” Sam said as he set the plates on the table. 

“He’ll be fine. Ain’t that right Zep?” Dean tossed the dog another piece before he turned off the grill and joined Sam at the table with a plate of kabobs. 

“I’ve never seen so many vegetables on your plate before,” Sam teased. “And such variety.” 

“At least I’m not getting a little paunch unlike someone,” Dean mused as he picked up his beer. 

My paunch is our baby, Sam was tempted to say, it was weird to think it but it made him feel warm inside. He knew deep down Dean had always wanted a family, and Sam had always felt a little disappointed with himself that he hadn’t been able to give that to Dean despite his claims that all he needed was Sam. But now he was pregnant, and as much as he wanted to tell Dean, he didn’t want to ruin the surprise, so instead he just kicked Dean under the table. 

“Ow,” Dean reached down to rub his ankle. “Mean.” 

They finished eating in mostly silence, comfortable silence that came from years of living in each other’s pockets and Sam pushed his plate away once he was done. He covered his mouth as he burped. 

“Excuse me,” he blushed. 

“I will take that as a compliment,” Dean grinned. 

“I picked up some pie on my way home,” Sam told him. “I put it in the fridge.” 

“Is it apple? I hope it’s apple,” Dean said as he stood up. “You want a slice?” 

“I’ll pass,” Sam answered. “But I’ll take a root beer on your way back.” 

“Must be some good news you got at the doctors. You’ve been smelling all good since you got home, and you picked up pie? If it weren’t the anti-possession tattoos I’d think you were possessed by a demon or something…Which reminds…me…” Dean’s voice trailed off. 

“Dean?” Sam leaned back to try and peer into the house. 

He stood up and walked into the house and found Dean in the kitchen. He was standing front of the fridge holding the door open. He was looking down at the pie in the fridge. Sam had asked the bakery clerk to write We’re pregnant on top of the pie in frosting. 

“Turns out it wasn’t pre-omegapause, or omegapause or stress…I’m uh. I’m pregnant Dean,” Sam told him. “We’re gonna have a baby.” 

“Son of a bitch,” Dean said. 

“Yeah…my thoughts too when I found out,” Sam chuckled. 

“But what about…and all those times,” Dean said as he looked at Sam. 

“Stress…it can decrease infertility and the chances of conceiving,” Sam replied. “The last decade and a half has probably been a little stressful what with hunting monsters and trying to keep the world from imploding…you know, just normal everyday stressful things.” 

Dean laughed a little. “Yeah, totally normal stressful things…fuck, Sam this is…” 

“Good?” Sam asked hopefully. 

“More than good Sammy,” Dean answered. He set the pie down on the counter and walked over to Sam. His fingers brushed their bond mark as he pulled him down into a kiss and Sam melted into it. 

“This is amazing,” Dean said as he pulled away. “You’re gonna get so fat.”

Sam snorted and shoved his mate. “Screw you.” 

Dean just grinned at him. “I mean consider screwing is what led us here…” 

“Oh my god, just eat your pie,” Sam laughed.

[wokeuptired]

every perfect summer

Finn is steady on her own two feet but Niall is a hurricane, determined to bring to the surface what she’s long buried. If only he weren’t so beautiful at sunset, she might be able to resist. 

written for​ @majorharry ‘s 20k fic celebration 

prompt #29: “stop looking at me like that.”

niall/ofc, 6.2k

Summer in California is hot and sticky, the kind of sticky that makes you feel silly showering, because as soon as you walk outside, you’ll be sweaty all over again. Even with the fan on full blast, Finn’s thighs are sticking to the leather of the couch she took from her mom’s house when she moved out. She’s read the same page a hundred times, over and over again. The heat makes it hard to think. 

The heat makes it hard to breathe.

And mostly, the heat makes it hard to write.

Finn’s about to put the book down when she hears footsteps on the stairs outside. Her apartment complex is a series of buildings each containing a dozen apartments. Finn shares the landing of her staircase with the apartment next door, but it’s the wrong time of day for Cindy and Ralph to be returning home, which means—

“Your new downstairs neighbor is hot,” Jocelyn announces as the apartment door slams shut behind her, the gust of warm air ruffling the pages of Finn’s book. She looks up to roll her eyes.

“You think every guy is hot.”

Jocelyn dumps her shopping on the kitchen table and scoffs. “I do not. Just the hot ones.”

“Aren’t you engaged?” Finn glances down at the big shiny ring on Jocelyn’s finger to emphasize her point. Even though Jocelyn moved out six months ago, when her boyfriend popped the question, sometimes it feels like she never left. Right now is one of those times. “What’s Marcus think about all this looking you do?” 

“What he doesn’t know won’t kill him.” Jocelyn punctuates her statement with a saucy flip of her hair and begins unloading her bags onto the small kitchen counter. She holds up a carton of ice cream. “Should I bother putting this away, or do you want to dive in right now?” 

Finn holds her hand out for the rocky road. “You know me so well.” 

“You’re welcome.” As Finn digs into the tub of ice cream, Jocelyn begins putting things away in the fridge. “You know,” she says into the veggie drawer, “I’m not kidding about your new neighbor. He’s got this angelic frat boy look to him. Have you met him yet?” 

“Yeah,” Finn says. “Last week. He offered to carry a package upstairs for me. Very polite, and totally not my type.” 

“Exactly.” Jocelyn sits on the couch with another spoon and slides the ice cream out of Finn’s grasp. “As your older sister, it’s my job to advise you on everything. Starting with your interest in men, which is, to be frank, utter shit.” 

Finn opens her mouth to object, but she can’t find fault with Jocelyn’s statement. Her last boyfriend wouldn’t come to any work events with her but insisted she attend all of his art shows. He had an ego the size of the Milky Way to make up for his abysmal lack of talent.

“You need to stop dating those neurotic, artsy types,” Jocelyn continues, “and date a man who can, like, actually kill a spider.”

“I’m perfectly capable of killing my own spiders.” As long as they’re small and not moving, but Finn doesn’t feel the need to share that caveat. 

“So am I,” Jocelyn says. “Do you want wine?” She doesn’t wait for Finn to answer before she gets up and goes straight for the cupboard that holds the long-stem glasses. “Anyway, that’s not my point. You need to stop dating boys who look good on paper and start dating men who are good. In real life.” 

Finn closes her book so that it doesn’t have to listen to this conversation. She accepts the wine glass from Jocelyn’s outstretched hand and swirls around the liquid within. It doesn’t go with the ice cream, but she’s 25 years old, so that doesn’t matter.

Jocelyn scowls at the closed book. “Virginia Woolf again, Finn? Are you ever going to read anything written in this century?”

Finn rolls her eyes. If there’s one thing her sister excels at, it’s being unsatisfied with all aspects of Finn’s life. “Are you here just to criticize me? Or are we watching ‘The Bachelor’?”

Jocelyn grins, spoon still in her mouth. “Oh, we’re watching ‘The Bachelor.’” 

-----

The thing about “The Bachelor,” Finn decides that night as she’s brushing her teeth, is that, for the women involved, the ones competing for the bachelor’s heart, there are no consequences. 

Oh, small consequences, sure. Your decision might make somebody else cry, or your heart might be slightly bruised, but at the end of it all, you’ve got thousands of new Instagram followers and you’re famous in your small town and everybody wants to date you, even though you chose, of your own free will, to engage in the skeptical that is a dating game show. 

But there are no big consequences, no bad consequences. A few months later and the next season’s airing, and everything you did, every dumb thing you said, every kiss you exchanged—it’s all forgotten. 

Maybe that’s the way to go, Finn thinks. 

Maybe next year, she ought to audition. She develops the pitch in her head: 25 year old ghostwriter of bestselling romance novels; lives alone in Los Angeles; has been considering, for an entire year, the adoption of a cat; has never been in love. 

It’s that last part that would sway them, she thinks. The producers would imagine her doe-eyed and innocent, maybe a bit naive. She’d be pitted against the season’s villain, the girl with dark hair (a visual contrast to Finn’s blond bob) who would stop at nothing to win her man. 

“How can she write romance novels when she has never known love?” audiences across America would wonder. 

Perhaps the bachelor himself would even inquire. Finn would smile shyly, bat her impossibly long eyelashes up at him, and say something coy like, “You could tutor me.” 

Jocelyn would love that. She lives for the drama, for what the editors create in post-production. She doesn’t care that it’s fake.

And every week Finn watches and wonders how she can keep selling love in her books when this show proves, without a doubt, that it doesn’t exist.

-----

The new downstairs neighbor works out in the mornings on his patio. Finn hears his music the next morning, drifting in through her open sliding door, around 8:30 AM. It’s not early enough for her to be justifiably annoyed at him, but she’s annoyed nonetheless, because she’s just sat down at her laptop with the intention of writing something today.

Something. Anything. Words on the page, that’s all she needs. 

Instead, she sighs, closing her laptop and crossing the room to the balcony. She slides the door open further, pushes the screen out of the way, and goes outside. When she and Jocelyn first moved in, the balcony was a huge appeal. “Outdoor space!” they’d squealed when they first saw the apartment listed online. But now Finn’s been here for two and a half years, and the balcony is just another space for dust to collect. 

It’s directly over Downstairs Neighbor’s patio. Finn looks down through the wooden slats and tries to catch a glimpse at him. She can hear Jocelyn’s voice in her head: He’s hot, right? I told you he was hot! 

In truth, though, Finn can’t see much through the small gaps between the planks. She can’t tell if he’s lifting weights or doing jumping jacks or playing a very enthusiastic game of cat’s cradle. He’s definitely grunting, though. 

Finn shakes her head, trying not to focus on the noises he’s making, and crosses the balcony. She leans her arms on the railing and looks out over the beauty of Los Angeles. Beauty referring, of course, to the parking lot. Finn can see her car, about thirty feet away, parked beneath an evil tree that drops red berries. It really needs to be washed. 

Maybe she should take it today. Maybe today will be the first day in a month that she’s gotten dressed in pants that have a zipper and a button, and she’ll go to the carwash and—

Feeling something crawling on her arm, Finn looks down, and oh, shit, it’s a spider. Not a little spider, not a daddy long legs, but one of those ones that’s big enough where you can see its body. It looks like one of those spiders a little kid draws around Halloween. 

Oh, shit. Finn lifts her arm, waving it wildly, trying to shake the spider loose before it bites her and turns her into Spider Woman, and that’s when she throws her mug of coffee into the air. 

“Oh, shit,” she says out loud. Time seems to slow as she watches her mug descend, coffee flying everywhere as the cup turns a full 360 degrees before landing with a crack on the concrete below. 

“What the fuck?” It’s Downstairs Neighbor. 

“Oh, shit,” Finn says again. Which, no doubt, Downstairs Neighbor heard. Oh, shit. That one’s in her head, at least.

She hears a grunt as he, she imagines, lowers his weight to the ground, then the snick of his sliding glass door, then the sound of his front door opening, and then, oh, shit, there he is, standing on the ground, looking at her broken coffee cup. 

Oh, shit, Finn thinks again as she drops to her knees, hiding herself from view. 

Apparently unsuccessfully, as not thirty seconds later, she hears, “I can see you, ya know.” 

Finn rises slowly to her feet and looks down. It’s hard not to admit that Jocelyn was right as she looks down at him, messy hair and blue eyes and muscles visible through his sweaty t-shirt. 

“Hi,” she says.

“Hi.” His eyes twinkle, and she knows he’s trying not to laugh at her. “This yours?” 

“Yeah. Sorry I interrupted you.” 

He laughs then, a light, musical sound that she can feel in her toes. Oh, shit. That’s not good. Finn’s characters feel laughter in their toes, but she certainly doesn’t. Feeling someone’s laughter in her toes is not a real thing, she’s always thought, except, apparently, it is.

“What happened?” he asks. 

“There was a spider.”

“A spider.” 

Finn nods, cheeks burning. “It was a big spider.” 

“You gonna come clean it up?” 

Finn nods again. “In a minute.” 

“Okay.” He grins up at her and she blushes back. 

Finn turns around and goes inside, sliding the door shut behind her, and waits, listening for the sounds of Downstairs neighbor reentering his own apartment, shutting the door, locking it. When a minute has passed without any of that, Finn realizes that he must be waiting for her. 

Oh, shit. Finn doesn’t have to be Jocelyn to know that this is not the ideal situation in which one wants to interact with Hot Downstairs Neighbor. But it seems like she doesn’t have a choice, so she slips on the flip flops she keeps by the door and goes downstairs. 

He’s still there, standing in the sunshine, squinting when he smiles. “There you are,” he says. 

“Here I am.” Finn looks down, surveying the damage. The mug has split into several large chunks, and maybe if Finn were better at diy-ing she’d be able to fix it, but as things stand now, it’s destined for the garbage. “Damn, I really liked that mug.” 

“I’ll buy you a new one,” Downstairs Neighbor says, which is such a strange thing to say that Finn startles, turning to stare at him. 

“Thanks?” she says. 

“You’re welcome.” He smiles, holding out his hand. “I’m Niall.” 

Finn accepts the handshake. “I’m Finn.” 

His hand is warm and a bit clammy, a bit like California in the summer, and her stomach goes topsy-turvy. She yanks her hand back. 

“Nice to meet you,” Niall says. “I guess you’re the neighbor who watches ‘The Bachelor’?” 

Jesus Christ, Finn thinks, dropping to a squat. She gathers up the pieces of her destroyed mug and doesn’t answer him. How nosy of him, asking her that. But then, she was the one listening to him work out this morning. 

“My sister likes it,” she says. “I’m just along for the ride.” 

“Hey, there’s no shame in liking ‘The Bachelor,’” Niall says, dropping down beside her. They reach for the last piece at the same time, hands brushing. Finn draws hers back, trying to ignore the tingling in her fingertips. “Here.” 

Finn accepts the final shard. “Thanks,” she says. “And I don’t like ‘The Bachelor.’ I think it’s silly.” 

Niall smiles at her again, all teeth and sunshine. “What’s silly about love?”

Finn blinks at him, trying to decide if he’s an idiot or just bad at small talk. Maybe both. “That show is not about love,” she says. “Have you ever seen it?” 

“No.” He shakes his head. “But I’ve heard it through the ceiling.” 

Jesus Christ, Finn thinks again. What a neighbor. She can’t wait to tell Jocelyn about this, to prove to her that Downstairs Neighbor may be hot, but his positive qualities end there. He’s intrusive and nosy and way, way too good looking.

“You can get back to your workout,” she says, standing up straight. He follows, forcing her to look up to meet his eyes. “Sorry for bothering you.” 

“Not a bother,” he says. “It was nice to meet you, Finn.” 

“Yep,” she says, offering him a half smile before she turns tail and dashes up the stairs, back to her safe, quiet, Downstairs Neighbor-free apartment. Back to her laptop, and the manuscript due in three months that she hasn’t managed to crack yet. Back to being hot and sweaty inside her apartment, instead of outside. 

“Have a good day!” he calls after her. She doesn’t return the greeting. 

-----

The next morning, a knock on the door wakes Finn up from a dream, the kind of dream that you know as soon as you wake was a good one, but it’s too late, you’ve forgotten it, and you won’t be able to get it back. 

“No,” she mutters, turning over in bed, burrowing into the pillow. “I’m sleeping.” But then the knock sounds again. “Damnit.” 

Finn climbs out of bed and reaches for her phone on the nightstand. 8:27 AM on a Wednesday. An acceptable hour for someone to be knocking on the door, she supposes. Except she was up till 1 o’clock trying to make her messy notes into something resembling an outline that could someday (someday soon, she hopes) be a book. 

The morning person disturbing her sleep knocks again, eliminating the possibility that it’s just UPS dropping off a package. Finn drops her phone on the bed and makes her way down the hall to the living room, where sunlight blares in so sharply it makes her squint. 

“Gah,” she says to herself as she pulls open the door. And then, “Oh, it’s you.”

“It’s me,” Hot Downstairs Neighbor—Niall, Finn corrects herself—says. “UPS dropped off this package at my door, but I think it’s yours.” 

Finn looks down at the envelope he’s holding out, but the label is blurry. Oh, shit, her glasses. “If you say so,” she says. “I’d have to grab my glasses to know for sure.” 

Niall smiles at her, she thinks, but the details of his face are a bit blurry. “I can wait,” he says. “We should make sure it’s yours.” 

Finn frowns at him for a second—He can read, can’t he? Shouldn’t he know if it’s her name on the label?—before deciding that it’s too early for an argument. “Fine, whatever,” she says, turning around and leaving him in the doorway. 

That’s where she expects him to stay, but when she returns to the door a minute later with her glasses perched on her nose, he’s inside her apartment, poking around the bookshelves on either side of her television. The package he brought over has been discarded on the coffee table. 

Finn ignores him for a second as she picks it up. Yep, it’s definitely hers. It’s a proof of her latest Isobel novel, if she had to guess. But she’s not going to open it now, not with Niall here. 

Niall, who is currently nosing around her living room, looking much too closely at things she’d rather he not see. 

“What are these?” Niall steps closer to the bookshelf, his eyes scanning the spines. “You read romance novels?”

“Not exactly,” Finn says. Which lie should she tell this time? She has a few prepared: “they’re my sister’s” or “my roommate forgot them when she moved out.” Said roommate is said sister, but for the sake of the lie, that wouldn’t matter. But then the truth slips out. “I write them.”

“You write them?” Niall repeats. He pulls one of the books out, Summer’s Dalliance, about two yoga instructors who find love during a training retreat in the Maldives. “You’re Isobel Soleil?”

Finn can tell from the way Niall says Isobel Soleil that he’s heard of her. Who hasn’t heard of her, these days? Her books are in grocery stores and airport shops and on bestseller lists and there’s a series in development with HBO. 

As a ghostwriter, Finn isn’t involved, but she knows the show will help move sales, which means bigger checks, which means maybe, eventually, she can write something she actually cares about.

“Not exactly.” Finn takes the book out of his hand and returns it to its place on the shelf. It’s not as if she’s proud of it. That’s not why she has it out. It’s just a placeholder until she publishes a book she’s actually proud of. “Isobel Soleil isn’t a person. She’s a brand. Her books are written by half a dozen different people. How do you think she can pump them out so quickly?”

“How quickly?” 

“Three or four a year.”

“And you wrote all of these?” Niall’s finger runs along the spines. “How many are there? Ten?”

“Eight,” Finn corrects. Eight cheesy, embarrassing, don’t-let-your-mother-see-you-reading-that novels. “But they’re formulaic and simplistic. They’re not… they’re not good.”

Niall shrugs. “They’re not high literature, you mean. Someone reads them, though, right? And the people who read them enjoy them. So who cares if they’re not high literature, Finn?” 

Finn swallows the sudden lump in her throat. How has Niall managed to get to the quick of things so, well, quick? “I care, I guess. This isn’t what I imagined I’d be doing when I was little, telling people I wanted to be a writer when I grew up.”

“So write something else,” Niall says. 

Finn sighs. She wishes it were that easy. If only she could break out of the mold she’s put herself in and write something else, something that’s not about two people falling in love. If only she could write something she actually believed in.

But she has a contract and a deadline and an agent and an editor on her back, and no choice but to finish this Isobel Soleil novel. 

“Maybe next summer,” she says. 

Niall considers her, nods. “Speaking of this summer,” he says slowly, like he’s thinking about what he’s going to say as he’s saying it, “I have free tickets to LACMA, and I just moved to town so I don’t know a ton of people. Want to go with me?” 

Say yes or no more ice cream, Jocelyn’s voice says in the back of Finn’s mind. 

“Sure,” she says. “But you know my secret”—she gestures to the bookshelves—“so now you have to tell me one of yours. So I know you’re not a serial killer or something.” 

He smiles at her and, damn, he’s good looking. “I’m a lawyer,” he says. “My new job doesn’t start till August, so I’m working remotely with my old firm until then.” 

“That’s not a secret.” Not a secret at all, but a great career for a hero in a romance novel. Finn makes a mental note. 

“Okay,” Niall says. He crosses his arms over his chest and leans back, lifting one hand to his chin, a classic thinking pose. “How about this? I’m not from here.” 

Finn shakes her head. She’d already guessed that from his accent, a soft, lilting Irish one that makes everything he says sound like a poem. “Not a secret either. You get one more try.” 

“One more try!” he says with mock shock. “I’ll make this good, then.”

He thinks and Finn waits, and in the thirty seconds it takes him to come up with a good secret, she wonders what the hell she’s doing, flirting with Hot Downstairs Neighbor in her living room while dressed in her pajamas. Oh, shit, she’s not wearing a bra, is she?

Finn crosses her arms over her chest and considers backing out of this conversation entirely by making something up that will put Niall off and convince him that she’s the worst possible LACMA companion. 

But then he says, “I can’t swim,” and that is distracting enough to make her forget everything else. 

“You can’t swim?” she asks. “What the hell are you doing in southern California?” 

Niall shrugs. His smile makes her insides go wonky. “Maybe you can teach me.” Then he holds out his phone. “Here, give me your number. I’ll text you and we can make plans.” 

She obliges, all the while wondering what exactly she’s gotten herself into. 

-----

LACMA day comes much quicker than Finn anticipates. When she and Niall first made the plans a week ago, Saturday seemed like ages away. There was so much she was going to do between now and then: repot all of her plants, make bread from scratch, work on her manuscript. But instead, she putters around her apartment, typing words here and there, ignoring how bad they are, and not baking bread. 

It’s a waste of a week, and not just because Niall is there, in the back of her mind, the whole time. 

Jocelyn’s excited, of course, for LACMA day, and insists on coming over the night before to help Finn select her outfit. Finn keeps reminding her that it’s summer in Los Angeles, so it’s a thousand degrees out and she will melt no matter what she wears, but Jocelyn doesn’t care.

Which is how Finn ends up knocking on Niall’s door on LACMA day dressed in a romper that’s giving her a wedgie, a purse she never carries slung over her shoulder. Jocelyn even forced her to wear lip gloss. 

“Lip gloss makes you a different person,” Jocelyn said last night on her way out. “I left you three options. Please wear one.” 

“I don’t take advice from the Sweet Valley Twins anymore,” Finn had retorted as she shut the door in Jocelyn’s face. 

But she’s wearing the lip gloss anyway. Her hair has already gotten stuck in it three times, and all she’s done is climb down the stairs. 

She knocks again, half hoping Niall hasn’t changed his mind and half hoping that he has. If he has, she can go back upstairs, put her pajamas on again, and continue to stare at her blank Word document. But then he opens the door.

“Good morning!” His smile is so bright it makes her squint. “Coffee?” 

He holds out a travel mug to her, waiting for her to take it. 

“Good morning,” she says after she takes a sip. The coffee is exactly the right temperature and perfectly sweet, which is almost enough to make her smile. “This is good coffee.” 

“It’s from Ecuador,” Niall says. He steps out onto the welcome mat and closes the apartment door behind him. “Hold this for me?” 

Finn holds his travel mug as he locks the door and turns the knob a couple of times to make sure it’s secure. Then he turns around, his smile lighting up his face. 

“Ready?” he asks.

“Ready,” she says, though she’s pretty sure she isn’t.

She learns, over the next few hours, that Niall’s energy is nonstop. He talks constantly during their drive to the museum, talks as they park the car, talks as they ride the elevator to the top floor and begin making their way through the galleries. He tells her where he’s from and where he went to school and what his favorite sports teams are. 

And she finds herself talking too. She tells him about her sister and where she went to school and how she got started writing Isobel Soleil novels, and the entire time, she’s taking mental notes about him, about the way he holds doors for her and grins down at her and laughs even when her jokes are barely funny. 

This is how the heroes in her novels behave. They are handsome and well-meaning and have substantial life goals. They are polite and conscientious and make the heroines feel brave and important and valued. And that’s how Finn finds herself feeling: like if she had something to say, Niall would listen to it. 

After the museum, they stop for lunch at a restaurant Finn found on Yelp as they were leaving the parking structure. It’s small and bright inside, but as Niall pulls out Finn’s chair for her, it occurs to her, for the first time, that this might actually be a date. 

Jocelyn had said as much last night, but Finn had ignored her, as she does with most things Jocelyn says. But now, seated across from Niall, with nowhere to look but at him, reality dawns, and it’s blinding. 

But, she decides, she won’t address it, and she carries on with the meal as if they are recent acquaintances and neighbors, which is, she reminds herself, exactly what they are. 

-----

After LACMA day, Niall texts Finn about the movie he’s watching, and she imagines she can hear it through the floor. Later that evening, he texts her good night, and then, the next day, he texts her good morning. The next weekend, they go to Venice Beach together, and they see a movie in a classic theater downtown the following Tuesday. That night, he comes over for dinner, and they cook together, finding their way around each other in Finn’s small kitchen. 

And all of a sudden, this summer is different, hot and sticky like all the others, but different because this summer has Niall. 

Niall on the couch, bare feet up on the coffee table, listing all the reasons that golf is superior to all other sports. 

Niall in the passenger’s seat of her car, singing along to the radio even when he doesn’t know the words, the sun setting behind him, lighting him up as if it’s saying, “Look, he’s beautiful.”

And he is beautiful. Niall in her thoughts, Niall on the back of her eyelids when she blinks, Niall in her dreams. Niall, beautiful. 

And Niall in her manuscript, try as she might to keep him out. In sticking with the proposal she made to her editor back in the spring, she’s writing about a doctor and an artist who meet when they’re sharing a wall in a duplex summer rental on the coast of Oregon. By midsummer, she’s written thirty thousand words, enough to reassure her editor that she’s still writing, that things are fine, and, upon rereading, she realizes that the doctor has become Niall.

The doctor, so sure of himself, driven and determined and sexier than any other hero she’s ever written. He is confident and has beautiful eyes and magic fingers, and the heroine, the artist, is head over heels in love with him before she’s even thought to like him. 

And the artist. Finn is the artist, the confused, prideful creative soul who doesn’t want love, is afraid of it, just wants to be left alone. But now she has the lawyer, the beautiful, handsome, intelligent, lovely lawyer who makes her want to stop hiding. He makes her want to feel things. He makes her want to reach out for him, to push her fears aside and let her have what she wants. 

July brings that realization and an unseasonal thunderstorm that forces Finn to bring out a bucket and email her landlord about that leak in the roof from December that still hasn’t been fixed. That’s a momentary distraction, at least, from thoughts of Niall, thoughts of Niall that are plaguing her every moment. Awake, asleep, Niall. Always Niall. 

It’s thundering overhead when there’s a knock at her door. She opens it, and there he is, like she’s conjured him.

“I brought wine,” he says, holding out the bottle.

“Come in,” she says. She thinks of how much has changed since she sat on her couch a month ago, drinking wine with Jocelyn. She wishes, for a moment, that she could go back. But then she looks at Niall again. 

And she doesn’t want to look away, like the artist doesn’t want to look away from the doctor. When you find something this perfect, why would you ever look away? Why would you let it go? 

Finn knows from experience, though, that sometimes you don’t get to choose when people leave. Sometimes they leave you, aching and cold and alone. Sometimes it’s not up to you. 

“Come in,” she says again. She grabs two wine glasses from the kitchen and joins Niall in the living room, where they sit on the couch, thighs pressed together, and he picks a movie for them to watch. 

She isn’t paying attention, though, as she downs two glasses of wine and wonders if Niall will kiss her tonight. She’d like him to, she decides, just as much as she doesn’t want him to. It’s like the Schroedinger’s cat of kisses—if they never kiss, she will never know the kiss, but she will also never know what happens after it. She will never know if they go further, if they stop abruptly, if he breaks her heart and leaves her in pieces, smashed on the concrete like her broken coffee mug. 

But she will also never know if it will be beautiful, like the loves of the characters in her novels, characters who risk their hearts when they don’t know what the outcome will be. The difference between Finn and Niall and the artist and the doctor, though, is that Finn can control the artist and the doctor. She can decide their ending, she can choose the words for the last page. 

And maybe, with Niall, she doesn’t want a last page. 

Two hours later, Finn is wine-drunk and sitting on the floor, her back pressed against the couch. Niall is next to her, the table pushed away from them to accommodate his long legs. She leans her head on his shoulder, thinking, in the way only a wine-addled mind will allow, that she’d like to keep this night forever, seal it into a locket and wear it around her neck. 

“Tell me again why you don’t like your books,” Niall says. He has her newest proof in front of him on the table. It’s littered with post-it notes, changes Finn would’ve made to it had she had more time. But it’s too late now, and it will print as is. 

“They’re not good,” Finn says, her go-to explanation. “I can do better.” 

Niall shakes his head. “But they are good. I read Sunshine in Your Mouth, and it’s good. You’re a good writer, Finn.” 

“Oh, no.” Finn ducks, covering her face with her arms. “You read it? I can’t believe you read it.” 

“Yeah, I did.” Niall tugs her arm away from her face. “Stop hiding from me.” 

Oh, if only he knew how apt that statement was, then maybe he wouldn’t say it. Finn puts her arms down and refills her wine glass. She knows she shouldn’t drink any more, but maybe if she does, she’ll stop thinking about how blue Niall’s eyes are and how soft his fingers feel against her arm. 

“Tell me the truth,” Niall says, thumbing the post-its in her proof copy. “Why don’t you like being Isobel Soleil?” 

“Because I’m not her. I’m not like her. I just don’t believe in love,” Finn tries to explain. “It’s like—”

Niall laughs. “Love’s not like the tooth fairy, Finn. You don’t have to have felt it to know it’s real.” 

Finn looks at him, at his soft cheeks and his pink lips and his messy hair. In another life, in another version of this world, maybe she and Niall have known each other forever, since they were kids. And maybe Finn loves Niall. Maybe she always has. Maybe they fit. Maybe it’s the easiest thing this other Finn’s ever felt. 

But the Finn that lives in this world, the one sitting on the floor of her apartment with her knees pulled to her chest and a half-empty wine glass in her hand—this Finn doesn’t feel things easily. Feelings are heavy and feelings hold you back and feelings stick around long after the people who brought them on are gone.

“My parents,” Finn says, “they got divorced when I was five.” 

“Finn, you don’t have to—” 

“It’s fine,” Finn says. The wine is talking now. The wine and the smell of Niall’s shampoo and the plunk plunk plunk of rain hitting the bucket on the kitchen floor. “My dad was sleeping with his secretary. Such a cliche, right? And it took my mom years to leave him. Years. He was sleeping with his secretary while my mom was pregnant with me. She kept thinking he’d stop, that he’d finally realize that he loved her, that he loved his family. She kept waiting, until she couldn’t anymore.” 

Finn feels Niall’s fingers brush against hers where they rest on the rug. “That’s why you don’t believe in love?”

“No.” Finn closes her eyes, her head tilting back against the sofa cushion. “That’s why I don’t let myself feel it.”

“Finn.” 

She doesn’t answer as Niall moves closer. Eyes closed, she can feel him entering her personal space, can feel the heat of his hand as he takes her wine glass, hears the clink of glass on wood as he puts it on the table. Feels his fingers on her cheek as he tucks a strand of hair behind her ear. 

“Finn. Look at me.” 

So she does, opens her eyes and meets his, and it’s too much, it’s all too much, the way he’s looking at her like he can see her feelings, can read them as if they were written across her forehead.

“Stop looking at me like that,” she says, her voice barely above a whisper.

He smiles. “Like what?” 

“Like you like me.” The words are out before she can stop them, slipping from her lips like a sigh. 

“Finn.” He’s closer now, impossibly close, his hand on her cheek. “Finn, I more than like you.” 

“I—” Finn starts, but she doesn’t know what to say. 

She doesn’t know what this feeling is, the one taking over her chest and spreading to her stomach and traveling up her throat all the way to her eyeballs. It’s a headache and nausea at the same time, plus a sense of doom in her stomach, maybe the unconscious realization that this can’t last forever. 

Because feelings never do. Niall likes her now, likes her a lot, likes her enough to maybe kiss her against her dirty car in the parking lot fifty feet from their building. But that won’t last. He’ll like her for a bit and then he’ll like her less and less until nothing remains but the memory of the fire that used to burn, a bit of leftover smoke drifting skyward. 

And that’s when it will hurt. 

This will hurt, Finn thinks, but she jumps anyway. 

“Then kiss me,” she says. 

So he does, and in his kiss, for as long as it lasts, she lets herself feel everything: lets herself feel the sticky heat of summer and the sticky heat of a love so big it sucks you under, leaves you breathless, makes you hold on tight. 

She slides her hand into his hair and thinks, I will hold on tight. 

When it’s over, Niall pulls back, leans his forehead on hers. He’s breathing heavy when he says, “I’ve been wanting to do that for ages.” 

“I want to do it again,” Finn says. She slides her fingers under the collar of his shirt. 

Niall’s hand tightens on her waist. “Is that the wine talking?” 

Finn shakes her head. “No,” she says. “It’s me. And I more than like you, too.” 

Niall grins, bright and beautiful. “Good,” he says. “You’re my perfect summer.” 

He leans in to kiss her again, and Finn decides, in that split second before their lips meet, that even if all she gets with Niall is a summer, it will be beautiful and it will be perfect, the stuff of novels. The stuff of her novels. 

But, something in her gut tells her, Niall will be around for more than a summer.

He does live right downstairs, after all.

[browneyedhimbo]

The Package Ch. 1

→Package Delivered

Pairing: Bucky x Reader

Summary: Your ordered package arrives earlier than anticipated. Being stuck in traffic and completely forgetting what you got, you let Bucky know it was okay to open it for you until you got home. But the contents inside could change your lives forever.

Warnings: language, slight anxiety attack, fluff

Word Count: 1.3k

A/N: First chapter is finally here! Sorry it took me so long. I really hope y'all like this! Enjoy!! 💕

• The Package Masterlist • Masterlist •

You sighed in frustration, hands tapping the steering wheel anxiously. God you hated traffic with a burning passion.

Staring at the car in front of you, another - more defeated - sigh leaves your lips as the back of your head hits the headrest. You looked out the window and cursed at everyone and everything that was walking by, blowing past the congested street. Your phone buzzed in the cupholder, pulling you out of your thoughts. You know you're not supposed to text and drive, but it’s not like you were moving anytime soon.

Hey doll, just got home from work. Also, I brought in a package that was on our step, has your name on it

You stared at your phone, confusion writing itself over your face. Package? You're always online shopping, buying the most random of things. You didn't think much of it, typing out a reply before resting your phone on your thigh.

Hey babe, still stuck in traffic. Thanks for letting me know. Open it if you want. I think its the new kitchen towels

Slowly the traffic started moving. You muttered a 'finally' while sitting up straighter. Your phone buzzed and you unlocked it to see Bucky's text of driving carefully. You smiled to yourself before putting your phone back in the cup holder.

A few more minutes go by and you've barely moved half a mile. You groan in annoyance, head lolling over to the side. You see a dad walking with a stroller and a smile makes its way to your face. Your hand subconsciously placed itself over your belly. You weren't really showing yet, being in the very early stages of your pregnancy. Your mind wandered as you thought of Bucky being the one pushing the stroller and your baby being inside. Only if the package would get here. Package. The package. Your face fell as the realization dawned on you. The package you ordered had baby things inside as well as custom shirts for Bucky. The package Bucky was talking about!

"Fuck fuck fuck!" You muttered, looking around for an opening. Oh god, how could you be so careless? Your hands tapped the wheel relentlessly as you quickly maneuver your way through the cars to head on to another street. 

You thanked your lucky stars there wasn't any traffic on the other street. Sure it'd take just a little longer because it's the long way, but you couldn't be stuck in traffic knowing he'd already open the package.

Oh Bucky, poor Bucky. You didn't know how he was going to react. Would he be mad? Would he be happy? Would he leave? Would he even want to be involved?

Your head was swimming. You kept muttering curses as you raced your way to your shared apartment. Time was completely irrelevant. All you had to do was floor it and try to not break as many laws as you could.

The moment your street came into view your heartbeat intensified even more than before. Your hands started shaking as you pulled the key out of the ignition and grabbed your purse. You didn’t even bother to use the elevator and just raced your way up the stairs to your floor, extremely high off adrenaline. 

You got in front of your door and stared ahead, trying to calm your erratic breathing. You went to put the key in the hole but hesitated, pulling back and leaning against the wall opposite of the door.

This wasn’t how you wanted to tell him. You wanted to bring it up slowly, in a casual conversation. Or maybe even during dinner. But not by opening a random package. You thumped your head against the wall a few times before groaning and standing up. You had to face the music sometime right?

You took a deep breath, opening the door cautiously. Entering the kitchen, you expected to find Bucky there, package ripped and on display. But you didn’t. You set your purse on the countertop, closing your eyes to try and stop being negative about the situation. Your nerves were on edge as it is, so the moment you felt two arms wrap around your waist you yelped, spinning around and throwing a punch.

“Hello to you too.” Bucky chuckled, hand rubbing the spot on his jaw you hit. Guilt flooding every ounce of anxiety you felt.

“Oh my god Bucky! I’m so sorry!” Your hands flying up to his face. He chuckled again, leaning into your touch.

“Wonder what’s gotten you all jittery doll.” He smirked, eyes shining with mischief. You shrugged, looking loosely around the apartment for the package. Bucky noticed this and smiled even more.

“Don’t I get a hello kiss?” He puckered his lips dramatically, earning a giggle from you. You leaned in and pecked his lips. Your worries flew to the back of your head as he deepens it, his hands on your waist pulling you in closer so your bodies are flush together. 

“So I was thinkin we stay in tonight, watch a few movies, call it early. Sound good?” He mumbled, bumping your nose against his. You smiled and nodded, pressing another short kiss to the corner of his mouth.

“Sounds great, let me get changed.” You walked to your room peeling off your shirt when you froze. There on the mattress lay the baby clothes, Bucky’s custom dad shirts, and an empty picture frame that says ‘Baby Barnes.’ 

Your heart skipped a beat, automatically thinking the worst. Cool metal and warm skin wrapped gently around your stomach, his chin propped on your shoulder.

“Kitchen towels my ass.” He pressed a kiss to your neck. You peeled yourself away from him, a shiver running up your spine as the cold air touched your now warm back.

“You’re not mad?” Bucky bit his bottom lip, a cute little giggle escaping him. 

“Mad? Doll do I look mad?” You shook your head, shoulders drooping.

“You’re okay with this?” Doubt and insecurity clawing its way back to the forefront of your mind.

“Honey, I’m over the moon!” He practically shouted, engulfing you in a bear hug. “I’m going to be a dad! I can’t even being to explain to you how fucking happy I am!” He picked you and spun you around before plopping you on the bed.

Bucky’s bubbly reaction made all the negative emotions you felt completely die out, being replaced by happiness and excitement. Tears pricked your eyes as the words hit you. Bucky’s going to be a dad. You’re going to be a mom. You’re going to be parents.

“We’re gonna be parents.” You whispered. Bucky nodded enthusiastically, dropping to his knees in front of where you sat on the bed. He reached out and set his hands on either side of your belly.

“We’re gonna be parents.” He looked up at you and smiled so wide. You shared a laugh, foreheads pressed against one another. He pressed a chaste kiss to your lips, unable to contain his elation. You gently pushed him back, heading to the bathroom to grab something. You walked back with one hand behind your back. You sat back down in front of Bucky, your free hand carding through his hair.

“Here.” You moved your hand to the front, handing the pregnancy test to him. You saw as his eyes started to water, his bottom lip trembling slightly.

He was feeling a million things at once. Grateful for you caring for his child, scared he might mess up, excited he’ll have a little one of his own, petrified that hydra serum will -- he blinked rapidly. He couldn’t think that way. Instead, he focused on the one thought screaming away in his head, ‘he made it.’

He set the pregnancy test down next to you on the bed, his hands grabbing your own. He kissed all your fingers, your palms, the back of your hands. Adoration shining brightly in his eyes. He slowly let go of your hands, placing his over your belly again. His thumbs tracing delicately over your skin. He leaned in, peppering your belly with kisses.

“Papa’s gonna take care of you little one.” He whispered against your skin. “Papa’s gonna take good care of both of you.”

●●●●●●●●

Tags [OPEN]: @white-wolf-buckaroo @cazslaughter @fanfictionarchivee @nerdy-bookworm-1998 @imma-new-soul @starspangledseb @kaithezaftig @marvelofwitch

(who I think might be interested): @wemisshim3000 @this-kitten-is-smitten @disasterbuckley @becausewhyknotme @buckys-blunders @yougottakeeponkeepinon @hp-marvel-starwars-kotlc @starbxcks @thorfanficwriter @propertyofpoeandbucky @babiiface95

[fanficsordie]

The Queen Mary (Shane Madej)

Request:

Can you write a Shane Madej imagine where he takes you to one of the locations for buzzfeed unsolved. The reader is a believer in ghosts and when she thinks she sees something supernatural/paranormal, Shane makes fun of her. Then she ends up getting upset, and they fight. But they make up later that night, and they cuddle in his sleeping bag.

Heyo! I was wondering if you’d like to do a Shane Madej (buzzfeed unsolved) x male! Reader? Where reader is a believer and stuff and shit scary and they out on a adventure thing, I’m sorryvddbbd anyways I’m new here and I like your writing     

Pairing: Shane Madej x Reader (gender neutral)     

Warnings: Bad language words 

A/N: Okey dokey, so first off, thank you for the requests! Second off, I wish that I had a good excuse as to why this took a freaking year and a half to get posted, but I really don’t. I am so so so so sorry and I promise that I will do better from now on. Also, I apologize if at any point it seems a little incohesive. I literally started this as soon as it was requested and it’s been sitting in my WIP folder until I finally finished it last night. Also in regards to the fact that there are two requests listed, I felt as though the second request felt a little similar to the direction that this was going to begin with, so it would be a bit easier to combine them instead of trying to make two separate ones without repeating myself. It is gender neutral, so I hope that’s okay for the anon who requested the male reader! As always, requests are open. We’re doing our best to catch up since we have so much free time now, so if you requested something please be patient! Anywho, I’m gonna quit rambling now. I hope you enjoy!!!

-C

You didn’t always believe in ghosts. For the first twenty-one years of your life, you grouped them amongst fairytales with the Tooth Fairy and the Easter Bunny. The saying is “seeing is believing” and you hadn’t seen any damning evidence that ghosts were anything more than a story. Your experience with the supernatural was quite similar to Ryan’s. You didn’t believe in them and then you had a horrifying experience that changed your outlook.

You were just out of college (meaning you were broke) when you saw an apartment being advertised online. The rent was pretty cheap so you decided to check on it. Everyone told you that some weird shit went on there, but you took it with a grain of salt. You didn’t believe in the stuff anyways. You being the skeptic you were, just figured the previous tenants were doing drugs or something.

The first week you stayed there was pretty quiet. Sure you heard a few things that maybe sounded like footsteps, but nothing that couldn’t be explained by the house settling or the wind. Sometimes you would think that you heard voices, but you couldn’t make out anything that these “voices” said, so you just assumed it was your mind playing tricks on you.

More strange happenings occurred during your second week of residence. Lights would flicker, the tv would come on and off, and other things like that. To you it sounded like there was something wrong with the wiring, so you called an electrician. He told you that there was nothing wrong with the wiring, much to your disliking, and charged you anyways.

It was after the second or third month when things got too strange for you. You began to get an uneasy feeling every time you walked in the door. You began hearing voices that weren’t just the neighbors arguing. You felt like you were going crazy. One night in particular, there was the sound of a door slamming and people yelling. You crept out of your room, checking to see what the cause of the ruckus was. You were quite alarmed when there was nothing there. That was when you decided to leave. Obviously there was some supernatural force at play and you wanted absolutely nothing to do with it. You ended up staying at your best friend’s place until you were able to find another apartment. You swore you’d never go back to that place, and so far you’d kept that promise, though you weren’t sure that visiting haunted sites for a living consolidated with wanting as little to do with the paranormal as possible.

Now, here you were, standing in front of a haunted ship that you were about to spend the night in. You supposed that it wasn’t the scariest location you’d been to, but that definitely didn’t mean you were at ease with the situation.

“Apparently this boat is two times the size of the Titanic,” Ryan broke the silence that had settled over the three of you. He pointed the camera towards the boat, now filming.

“Two times?” Shane turned to face the much shorter man. The look on his face showed that he wasn’t sure whether to believe him or not.

“Two times,” Ryan confirmed.

“The Titanic’s tiny,” Shane concluded. “That’s not true.”

“Yeah, I’m calling bullshit. No way that’s true.” You shook your head. Bickering was not uncommon for the three of you. Since the first episode that you’d appeared in, you’d become super close. Ryan was like your brother, and you and Shane had been together for almost six months now.

“It’s true,” Ryan defended, but quickly realized that there was no way that he was changing either one of your minds. Even if it were true, you two would argue with him anyway, just to give him a hard time. “All you need to know is; I was here about ten years ago and I said I’d never come back, and well, here I am.”

“You’re not a man of your word,” Shane quipped.

“You know, I will say this is a beautiful sunset though if there’s one thing I could take solace in uh. In today.”

As much as you’d been giving him a hard time, you felt kinda sorry for Ryan. This was where he’d had his first encounter with what seemed to be the paranormal. You wouldn’t go back to your old apartment for anything, so you found it quite commendable that he even agreed to go.

“Nice sunset, enjoy Ryan. It’s the last one you’re ever gonna see,” Shane joked, earning a laugh from both you and Ryan.

You followed the boys through the boat which had been converted into a tourist attraction. You immediately got an eerie feeling. You weren’t sure what it was about the place, but you knew that it gave you the creeps. You weren’t too keen on the history of the boat, but you were almost positive that it wasn’t a happy one.

“Well, I’m back,” Ryan announced to no one in particular upon arriving to the lobby. He clearly was not thrilled with the situation. Shane let out a laugh as the two of you followed Ryan, causing Ryan to let out a laugh as well. “That is… that is that.”

“Do you feel like it remembers you?” Shane inquired.

“I certainly hope not after what I did last time I was here.”

“What’d you do the last time you were here, Ryan?” You weren’t overly sure that you wanted to receive an answer, but you would find out at some point anyway.

  “Yeah, what did you do?” Shane raised his eyebrows at him.

  “You’ll find out,” Ryan answered nonchalantly as he continued walking down the hallway. You gave Shane a look, to which he just shrugged and kept walking.

  “I never thought I’d be back in this room,” Ryan mumbled upon reaching Cabin B484, where his first ghost encounter had occurred.  “This was the uh… This was my ghost father.” He let out a laugh. “Oh boy,” he let out a sigh as he walked into the room,  “oh boy, oh boy, oh boy. It hasn’t changed one bit, it’s exactly the same.”

  “Which bed were you on?” Shane asked though you weren’t sure why it mattered. You just wanted to be out of there as quickly as possible.

  “I was sleeping right here on this one.” He pointed to the bed to the left. “I was sleeping on the left side towards the wall.”

  “You were hanging out… this looks like a Best Western.” Shane observed. After exploring the room a little further, you went to explore the other, more active, parts of the ship. Ryan had filled you in on the history of the boat beforehand and apparently there were quite a few documented deaths that had taken place on or near the ship.

  “Are you scared right now?” Shane questioned, pointing the camera at Ryan.

  “Yeah, you’re not fuckin’ scared right now?” Ryan looked at him, surprised.

  “I’m with Ryan, this is fucking creepy,” you agreed.

  “Are you guys just afraid of anything that’s old?” Shane followed you and Ryan down to the bow of the ship.

  “Dude, do you have any idea where we are right now?” Ryan continued to walk through the old rusted room.

  “It’s a boat…” Shane replied sarcastically. You weren’t sure that he was capable of taking anything seriously.

  “We’re in the bow of the ship,” Ryan explained. “This is where the ship struck the Curacoa.”

  “We’re in her belly,” Shane replied, causing you to giggle.

  “That’s the cargo hold, they used to keep POWs down there,” Ryan pointed his camera down to a rusted room below where they were standing, covered by a what looked like prison bars. You hated this place. You were ready to leave, but you knew that you had to spend the night there. “I got a new toy,” Ryan held up a camera, “this is a FLIR Thermal Camera. So if there’s any ghosts here, we may be able to pick up their heat signature.” He turned the camera on and pointed it at Shane. “Look at you, look at your little stupid face.” Shane put his hand on his chin and smiled, causing both you and Ryan to laugh. “Normally I’m against asking or communicating with ghosts, but uh, if I’m truly gonna be actually an investigator in this, I have to right?”

  “Yeah, do it,” Shane encouraged. Ryan shook his head. “ Go on, Ryan.”

  “You know my history with this boat,” he defended. “Umm…”

  “Be direct,” Shane advised.

  “Shut up, you shut up.” Ryan pointed at Shane. “First off, sorry for what I said last time.” He’d told you what he’d said earlier, and you could understand why he would be worried that the ghost would still be mad. “We’re not here to hurt you, oh god, and I think you’re not here to hurt me.”

  “Though Ryan is very angry about that toothpaste incident,” Shane joked.

  “Shut up, Shane.” Ryan shook his head.

  “He told me before we got here.”

  “Shut your stupid mouth.”

  “Spirits,” Shane called out. “Spirits, show yourself.”

  “No, don’t, what are you doing?” Ryan questioned.

  “You said to be direct,” Shane responded.

  “Yeah, but don’t be Bruce Willis from Die Hard,” Ryan argued.

  “Spirit,” Shane said in a more threatening voice.

  “Oh my god, Shane, shut up,” you giggled.

  Shane tapped against the metal, just as the man they’d interviewed earlier had said that he’d done. “Bum, bum, ba-bum, bum,” he spoke the rhythm.

  “I mean, you could try that,” Ryan looked at Shane.

  “If this thing responds, I hope you guys know I’m leaving…” You warned. Shane tapped the metal again, but this time, there were two creaks that followed. You looked at the boys wide-eyed, and Ryan shared the same expression, letting you know that he’d heard it too.

  “Wait,” Ryan whimpered. Shane was pointing the camera at the two of you, laughing.

  “It’s just creaking, it’s fine,” he assured the two of you, though you weren’t overly convinced.

  “Why’d it do it right then?” Ryan was very obviously frightened and you could say the same thing about yourself. You didn’t think that it was a coincidence that directly after Shane had tapped the rhythm, something finished it. Just as the guy from earlier had said. “Do it again.”

  Shane tapped the metal again. Ryan looked up at you, sheepishly.

  “Okay, we’re good, nothing happened,” he breathed a sigh of relief. He paused for a moment, but the smile returned to his face as soon as he realized that nothing was happening. “No we’re good, we’re good again. Yeah, we’re good, it’s all good.”

  “It’s all good,” Shane reassured.

  “It’s all good…”

  You made your way through the engine room, where apparently a crew member died.

  “It looks very confusing,” Shane observed. “It looks like it’d be pretty easy to get crushed to death in here.”

  “I mean this is just in itself, even if this is not spiritually active, I mean look at this place,” Ryan shuddered. It was creepy, you had to give him that.

“It’s a marvel.” Shane admired.

“There’s just numbers, how could anyone possibly know what the hell is going on here?” Ryan walked through the labyrinth. 

“Number 13, is this where it happened?” Shane asked, referring to the crew member.

“No, this is not,” Ryan answered. “This is where lubrication happened.” He pointed his flashlight at a sign that read Lubrication Oil Pump Controllers. “Lubrication oil pump controllers, to be exact.”

“A little semen lubrication.”

“Jesus Christ.” You rolled your eyes at their childish banter.

“Huh?” 

“No.” Ryan began to walk back the way they had come.

“That’s funny.”

“I think this is it right here,” Ryan stated upon reaching the actual point where the crew member had passed. “This is door number 13.” He let out a sigh. “Do I feel strange right here?” The three of you stood under the doorway.

“I definitely do.” You shivered.

“Yep, I don’t like it. I’m gonna get out of that.” He walked away from the opening. “It is crazy that of all the numbers he could’ve gotten stuck in, 13. Okay, now I’m starting to get scared again.”

“When did you stop being scared cause I haven’t gotten there yet.” You let out a nervous laugh.

“Hello there, is anybody here?” Ryan called out. “Please show us a sign, make a bang,” he paused. “Be nice.”

There was a noise somewhere and you and Ryan both jumped, making Shane laugh.

“No.” Ryan looked around for the source. “No fuckin’ way, no.”

“It’s clearly just some machine turning on,” Shane reasoned.

“If uh… If that was....” Ryan stammered, fueling Shane’s laughter. “If, no, that’s gotta be, that’s an engine right?”

“Yeah probably,” Shane shrugged, “or a ghost.”

“Right now I’m talking to the gentleman who got crushed in this door. If you’re here still, please show yourself.” Ryan shook his head. Your heart was beating out of your chest. If there was something there, you almost hoped that it didn’t show up, despite that being the point of the show. “Uhh, not seeing it, just lightbulbs and shit.” Ryan pointed the thermal camera to around the area where the noise had come from. “I’m not seeing anything, not seeing anything. Scanning, scanning.” Ryan then let out a yelp and doubled over.

“Did you see something?” Shane raised an eyebrow. 

“Look at this, it’s just a light, but it looks like someone looking out.” You and Shane looked at the camera screen and it did, in fact, look like that. “Does that not?” 

“Yeah, it does.” Shane laughed.

“It definitely does,” you confirmed.

“Holy shit dude, that scared the holy shit out of me.”

“Like a human being staring at you.” Shane chuckled.

“Let’s do this.” Ryan led you to the Isolation Ward, another hotspot on the ship. You got to the steps leading down and the three of you paused for a moment so that you could get up the nerve to actually go down.

Something flew across and all three of you let out a scream, though you and Ryan were definitely more frightened. Ryan jumped back and nearly knocked you over. Shane began to laugh when he realized that it was a bird and not a ghost. Ryan let out a sigh of relief and you were still trying to catch your breath. 

“The pigeon looked scared too.” Shane laughed.

“Oh my god, I almost…” Ryan doubled over. “My fucking heart almost exploded dude.”

“Your hard-on exploded?”

“What?” Ryan shot Shane a confused look. 

“Well, I’m so glad that it was funny to you that we almost died.” You rolled your eyes. 

You followed Ryan down the steps and into a hallway. 

“Shit, shit,” he muttered. He led you into a larger corridor. “What the fuck dude?” He looked around. “Check that out.” He pointed to a plaque on the wall which listed all of the passengers who had died on the ship. You immediately got chills. 

After touring the Isolation Ward a bit more, it was time to go to the room you would be staying in for the night. This was the worst part. After all of that, you were supposed to be able to sleep, and in the most haunted cabin on the ship nonetheless. 

“You’re really gonna hate this,” Shane whispered. You hadn’t talked much since the incident with the bird. You knew that it was in Shane’s nature to be skeptical and to just generally use humor to cover up when he may actually be scared, but it was a little bit annoying how he was just able to brush off your fear.

“Yeah, I imagine I’m gonna hate this,” Ryan mumbled. “Okay, I’m about to look at this for the first time.” He followed Shane into the room, you close behind. “You’ve gotta be fucking shitting me, dude. Are you fucking kidding me? No, no, no, no, no, no, no.” 

“We gotta sleep in here,” Shane giggled.

The room was completely bare and it smelled musty. This just got better and better. 

“This is where we’re sleeping tonight,” Ryan said into the camera. He paced the room nervously. “Ho-ly shit.” Shane continued to laugh at him. “Are you kidding me? This is a nightmare room. If there’s anybody in here that wants to talk to us, say something. Um, if there’s, please God, no. If there’s, if there- Was that, did you just fart?”

“I did.”

“You piece of shit, Shane.” 

“You’re such a jerk.” You joined in on their laughter. 

“Does my fart scare you?” 

“Are you fucking kidding me, dude?” Ryan looked at him in disbelief. 

“It was an accident, I didn’t do that on purpose. I genuinely did not do that on purpose.”

“It just slipped. It just slipped right out of your butt cheeks.” Ryan rolled his eyes.

The three of you proceeded to lay out your sleeping bags on the floor and set up camp. You laid next to Shane and tried to calm yourself down enough to hopefully be able to sleep for at least five minutes.

“Man, beds shaking in here, that’s gnarly,” Ryan muttered. “Ha, joke’s on them, no bed to shake.” 

“Haha, gotcha ghost,” Shane mumbled in response.  

“Ah crap, I’m already doing it. I’m starting to psyche myself out again.” Ryan turned on the light.

“Just focus on how tired you are.” As soon as the words left Shane’s mouth, there was a screeching noise coming from outside. You bolted up and looked around, trying to figure out what it was. “Woah, what the fuck is that? Are those cats fighting?”

“Dude, what the fuck is going on?” Ryan whispered.

“Is there animals fighting outside?” Shane repeated. 

“No, that doesn’t sound like animals, it sounds like static.”

“Holy shit, we’re gonna die on this boat.” You began to breathe heavy. 

“No, those were outside, it’s fine,” Shane tried to reason, but it didn’t do much to ease your nerves. 

“Oh, it was?” Ryan asked.

“Yeah.”

It took a while, but Shane finally managed to calm you down. As soon as you were on the verge of sleep, another noise startled you. 

“You know, what was that?” Ryan questioned.

“I don’t know, some bullshit,” Shane replied. 

“You didn’t hear it?”

“No.”

“It sounded like a voice.” 

“Yeah, I heard it too,” you confirmed.

“A voice?” 

“Yeah,” Ryan stated.

“You’ve somehow tricked me into not being upset that you’re still talking, but I’m gonna go to sleep, I’m gonna try again. I don’t know what you did. I’m angry again.” You and Ryan laughed at Shane’s whole spill. Shane draped his arm over your waist and you snuggled into him. After a while, you finally made it to sleep for a grand total of two hours.

“What the fuck? It’s morning, and we’re still here.” Ryan woke you up. 

“Yeah,” Shane mumbled.

“I wasn’t stabbed to death with a butter knife.”

“The room is clear,” Ryan declared.

“The room is clear,” Shane confirmed.

“And now it’s just an empty bare room appropriate for a sitcom exit.”

“We’ve had some fun times in here.” Shane leaned against the wall. 

“Farewell to the Queen Mary,” Ryan said into the camera. 

“She’s a beaut,” Shane looked around the room. “You’re a beaut, you’re a beautiful lady. I love your bones.”

“The prodigal son returned today and uh, didn’t come back with as much evidence as last time, but what a ship, still,” Ryan closed out the episode.

“Oh, what a ship,” Shane repeated. 

“You know, I’m still not prepared to say this place is not haunted because I very much believe it is.”

 TAGS: @shinji-lover​

[onyourzeus]

• with you | kwp

ykcyj ➝ arskyh

title: with you  pairing: kim wonpil (of day6) & you genre: flufffffff words: 2.9k

author’s note: requested by this anon asking for a lazy day with wonpil + some possibility of a food fight due to baking (i tweaked it a little bit, i hope you don’t mind)

any requests? check my pinned post if i’m accepting any at the moment, thanks!

lazy days with wonpil are the best. it doesn’t happen often, though, because he rarely gets to spend this much time with you

you’ve been relying on voice messages, long texts and the occasional video calls before and during their subunit comeback promotions

granted you were super excited and absolutely stunned by their performances

not to mention the songs in the album are amazing, you have always been supportive of wonpil’s career

ever since you’ve known him, music has always been his top priority. he’s taught you so much of what he’s learned throughout the years being a trainee and a musician in his own right

albeit you doubt you’d ever reach his level of proficiency when it came to understanding music

you’re content just watching him sing, admiring the way he plays the piano so effortlessly, and being so damn lucky to be part of this important journey with him

but of course, it pains you to be so far away, long distance never gets better no matter what they say

as much as you follow along his schedules as a day6 member, you’d be lying to yourself if you said the end of promotions is your actual favorite part of it all

it means that wonpil has some free time to spare, and usually he likes to spend it with you 

this weekend, you knew he didn’t have a lot on his agenda. you’ve specifically cleared the whole two days, logged off on all social media just so your attention can be focused solely on your significant other 

you’ve been giddy all morning, waiting for wonpil to arrive at your place in mere minutes 

when the two of you haven’t seen each other in a while, wonpil personally likes to have you all to himself in a space where no one can bother the two of you. this is why he doesn’t like you going over to their apartment

dowoon doesn’t have a sense of personal space or can he take a hint that wonpil doesn’t want anyone coming into the room when he’s just snuggling with you

so it’s a win win situation overall to have him in your place instead. the clothes he had left in the bottom drawer hasn’t been worn in a while by him. 

(you’re afraid his scent would come off soon if you keep wearing his sweaters and pjs)

you hear the knock on the door and excitedly dash for it, seeing wonpil in the flesh with…

flowers!! 

“hi,” he greets you shyly, the smile on his face neverending, only growing wider as you try your best to embrace him without squishing the gift he has in hand

“i missed you sooooooooo much,” you squeal, immersing yourself in the warmth of his body and his hand pressing against your back 

it feels like forever since you last saw him, so you want to hug him just as long 

“babe, babe— okay, baby, i can’t breathe!!” he laughs, jokingly coughing as he wiggles his way out of your death grasp. you’re not apologetic, only pouting while sliding your fingers in between his free hands 

“do you want to invite me in?” he asks, the sass in his voice unavoidable and you’d like to slap it out of him

but this is what you missed, so you tugged at his hands and welcomed him in your apartment

“are these for me??” he hands you over the bouquet, recognizing instantly the camellia flowers delicately arranged. he doesn’t answer, only letting his pressed lips resisting its way to a smile tell you how it is

“thank you,” you say to him anyway, reluctant but giving in to what you’ve always wanted to do for so long. 

you kiss his cheek, and it feels all so familiar but new at the same time

he gasps for a moment, brows raised up as if in mock offense but steals a quick kiss on your lips before you can question his silly antics 

“thought you could get away with that huh”

and this is what you truly missed being with wonpil, side by side. the way he sheds off that introverted persona online and really ease into his comfortable ways with you. he’s full of love, of course, but there are times when he is subtly teasing with you as a form of affection

you place the camellias in an empty vase you find inside a cabinet. the two of you didn’t necessarily plan out what to do for the day, and that’s usually the case when he spends his free time here

“i just want to be in bed and… cuddle,” wonpil would confess, winning you over with his doe eyes. nine times out of ten, it works

but today you want to talk with him, catch up on what you’ve missed while he was busy with performing and going on variety shows. and wonpil complies because even though he loves just being lazy with you, having his arms enclosing your figure and dozing off that way

one thing he loves to do is also talk. and there’s so much to talk about! 

you share the couch with him, and wonpil instinctively opens up his arms so he can wrap them around your waist

he puts up his legs on the coffee table, and waits for you to say something

“oh? this is allowed now?” he perks up and you turn your head to look at him, tongue darting out in response

“just because i need your scent to be in every corner of this place as much as possible”

“that’s…. a little gross, babe” 

sue you for missing him that much!!! 

but that didn’t really bother you, in fact you lift your own legs up to rest on his. as you guys find a comfortable lying position, finally you ask wonpil how he has been doing

you’ve probably already heard most of his stories through his messages and voice calls beforehand

but nothing beats listening to wonpil talk in person, and to watch him do it with your own very eyes

it’s something special that you want to keep for yourself, you understand that wonpil has to connect to his fans too. he goes on vlives, writes instagram posts directly addressing mydays, and just overall be relatable to them

and… it gets to you a little bit, not gonna lie. there’s so much of him that he gives to others, yet he doesn’t see it that way 

you’re sometimes afraid that he’ll be seen as too fragile and be an easy target to break 

but over the years you’ve known wonpil, you have only seen him get stronger. be more thick skinned, and it’s an admiring feat 

“were you even listening to what i said?” 

“about dowoon overreaching his leader status even after promos? yep, sounds like him” 

wonpil looks utterly surprised, and you return his expression with a more menacing version 

he bursts into laughter right at your face, and if you didn’t enjoy him tightening his grasp around you, you’d shove him off on the floor

“wonpil why do u keep laughing at me!!”

“you just have that face” 

wow what a way to compliment your s/o thanks buddy” 

“hey now,” he lets out the last few chuckles bubbling in his system, releases one arm around you to poke your nose with his finger. “thats the kind of face i love for a partner” 

“well then consider yourself lucky,” you pout, and wonpil’s eyes shine even brighter

“i am.” 

there isn’t a lot more that happens that day, you guys really took “lazying around” in its most literal form

since the couch is a pull out, wonpil helped you with setting it up and placing bedsheets on it while you grab the blanket from your room 

he suggests if he can take a nap for an hour or two which resulted to a cuddling session before you both dozed off

the curtains on the windows to the side of the living room were drawn out, so the late afternoon sun found its way to the inside of your place

it was warm, it hit your cheek when you turned over so you decided to just lay in bed facing wonpil

when you’d be in and out of sleep, you see your boyfriend’s peaceful face just a kiss away from you

and so you do just that… kiss his lips softly as to not disturb him… you take it upon yourself to take in his features slowly while you can and

it’s such a sight to behold

nevermind the dark shadows forming underneath his eyes or the subtle stress lines on his forehead 

you make it a point to do a self care skincare routine with him tonight. he’d enjoy the new volcanic mask you bought to try out

but setting that aside, wonpil is still so beautiful to you. you understand, out of all people, how so many have fallen for him too

hips lips that produce one of the most hauntingly elegant voices you’ve heard, his cheeks that paints a blushing rose when he’s being effortlessly cute, his eyes that glimmer whenever he’s having fun

however right now he has them closed, relaxed, as his chest breaths in and breathes out

you snuggle even closer to him, putting your cheek up against where his heart should lay, and listen to the beat of his heart

you feel your own pounding in the still of the apartment, only a faint bustling hum of reality outside your window

and as the sun shines on wonpil’s face this time, he slowly wakes up and you will yourself not too look

as you feel him shuffle while repositioning his arms that have encircled you all this time

“you awake?” he asks groggily, his sleepy hoarse voice sending you shivers down your spine

you can’t help but smile silly against his clothes

“mmm” is your response

“psst” he whispers in your ear, caressing the sides of your hair in a lulling manner

before you get too comfortable with his affection, you slowly pull yourself away and look at him

and you can never get used to it, to him

“i really, really missed you,” he mouths, almost inaudible, but you know it in your heart 

suffice to say the two of you didn’t get up right away

now that it’s nearing sunset, you ask if he wants to get dinner or cook at home

“what if we bake”

“oh,” that wasn’t really in your mind, but why not? this means you get to spend more time with him, and it’s a great bonding experience. the two of you rarely do this sort of thing. sometimes he’s ask to cook for you, only to phone his mom during the whole process to help out

in the end of that conversation, though, wonpil would approach you if you were in the room or hanging out on the couch, attack you with those puppy dog eyes of him 

“eomma hung up on me. says i should already know how to make stew without her help”

“do you need my help then, wonpil?”

“yes pls “ :c 

so with baking, it’s perfect, because you guys can tag team

you settle on making brownies, craving some chocolate for tonight. you pull up a recipe on your ipad for reference 

“babe where’s the butter,” wonpil asks behind you, rummaging his way through your fridge

“on the side, next to the cheese,” you tell him as you focus on reading through the ingredients

“... where’s the cheese”

“top shelf, wonpil,” you laugh, turning to see him struggling with messing around the many jars and miscellaneous stuff you have in your fridge

“ah, this needs to be more organized baby,” wonpil chastises you, finally finding what he was looking for

“sorry,” you sheepishly grin, but help him with the remaining ingredients

now that you have everything laid out, baking with him is.. a wild ride

you thought the cooperation between you would fall into a field of familiarity, but wonpil’s eagerness to do everything and have you just be sort of his “assistant” is bugging you a bit 

“i can mix this in—”

“no no no, i got it. you’ll see, i got this” 

“but wonpil—”

“no no no,” he repeats, holding onto an egg as he shakes his head at you

“see this? it’ll get cracked with one hand, just you wait” the smug expression on him just looks to adorable not to react to, but you know if you say something he’ll take it in a different manner. you keep your mouth shut and let him do his thing

he takes a second, three, five seconds before finally cracking the egg on the edge of the bowl

and spilling it all over the counter before he got the chance to put it all in

that’s your cue to laugh as wonpil stands there to take in the shame

and walk it off by washing his hands and wiping the mess

you didn’t mean to be so loud about his mistake, but you see wonpil blushing hard with his arms crossed

and you just know you crossed the line

“wonpiriiiii” you whine, trying to take his hands in yours. he won’t budge, not even looking your way 

“it was an accident, you can just crack it with a fork or something” he relents as you sway your arms side to side, an attempt to calm him down and reassure him it’s nothing serious

and you actually love him more 

“yeah but i wanted to impress you”

if only you knew wonpil

“you impress me every day just knowing you’re with me,” you tell him, and the cheesiness sends him gagging mockingly 

the two of you would continue clowning each other while preparing the brownie mixture 

taking turns with cracking the eggs, even at one point having a seriously uncalled for juggling competition with two eggs 

that you immediately stop once you realize you don’t have back up eggs if this fails badly

at one point the brownie mixture has finally been combined, and you’re about to ask wonpil for the tray when you see him dip his finger in the bowl and pop it in his mouth

“mmm,” he reacts, before slowly reaching in to take another dip

“DUDE DON’T DOUBLE DIP” too late, he had already contaminated the bowl and was on his way to smear chocolate on your cheek 

you didn’t even have time to speak his death sentence

the deed has been done, the cheek has been smeared as your nose sniff at the chocolatey smell on your face

“oh it’s on, wonpil”

“no it’s not,” he counters, and he’s already laughing with his pointer finger still up in the air, remnants of chocolate still coating around the skin 

you want to approach it the same way he did, but you needed to go big

bringing the whisk filled with a gooey chocolate mess, you lift it up and take a slow, careful step towards wonpil

his laughter died down and is followed by a gulp down his throat

“you won’t dare, baby. i love you, i love you so much—”

“your words mean nothing right now, pil,” you say as sweetly as you can, comically licking some of the mixture that has traveled down the side of your lips. wonpil stared at your tongue, confused at his emotions right now

should he be turned on? threatened? 

he doesn’t get another second to think as you basically paint the whole side of his cheek with chocolate

“i feel better now” you say in between your own fits of laughter, pointing the whisk at wonpil’s sorry face as he just stands there

taking in what just happened

so yeah, y’all don’t get to bake what’s left of the brownie mixture until… after so much of it has ruined your clothes, and the kitchen counter

fortunately, as the poorly spread out brownie mixture bakes in the oven, you and wonpil get to

share a bath together :) 

maybe it was his plan all along because the smirk on his face doesn’t leave at all while you wash each other up

bath foam on his hair, on your nose

soapy kisses, the works

you’d indulge being skin to skin with wonpil this way, soaked in warm water with the smell of mint in the air from your body wash

you couldn’t take too long in the bath though as the brownies baked for a short period of time

“do you really choose brownies over me right now, babe? really?”

“wonpil the apartment will burn down if we don’t take them out of the oven”

…”

“okay point taken”

you finish up in the shower, put on your bathrobe and dry off your hands to hurry and take the tray out the oven

the brownies don’t look half-bad and evidence of the food fight you and wonpil didn’t even seem like it happened (courtesy to him voluntarily wiping everything down as you ran the bath quickly) 

“so is this dinner?” wonpil asks, walking towards you with his matching robe around him

“how about some take out for now?” you suggest sheepishly, hunger calling out to you already

he agrees, and calls your favorite restaurant for some food

the two of you then spend the rest of the night eating rice from take out boxes and dumplings on the pull out sofa bed, never ending conversations of everything in life accompanying the hum of background tv noise 

y’all even forget to eat the brownies as the dumplings and noodles had filled you up more than you thought

and that’s how you basically spent the first day he’s back with you, and the second is just the same

with more cuddling, sharing the shower, and enjoying every moment with him :) (less food fights though, he’s found out your sheer determination about such things… terrifying)

[blindedbythedarkness]

Josh,

Sometimes it's really fucking difficult to not believe that the universe is personally biased against me. And I know that's kind of rich coming from the one of us that didn't get driven to suicide. But I just, I know you of all people would understand. I wish I had you to really talk to right now.

I'm gonna ramble because I just need someone to listen. But where to fucking start? Life right now is just spinning plates. On one day this week I found out a critical hospital referral I was relying on had never been made; I was rejected by yet another landlord for a house next year that I'd really been betting on; my supervisor met with and bullied me for a solid two hours and my one social event of the week got cancelled. So, that's about when it all started to get too much.

The doctor I've been seeing has been incompetent from the start and made so much work for me in the 6 months I've been in her care. Despite diagnosing my Potentially Life Threatening connective tissue disease, she never even named it in our appointments, leaving me to discover the true horrors of my body through playing detective with my blood results. Long story short, to be confident that I can go on a treatment for it without bleeding out, I need to see a geneticist. But despite agreeing that I should see one, she's refusing to refer me to one directly. Instead, she's referring me to a pain rehab clinic at a separate hospital and saying they can internally refer me to genetics. The wait on the pain rehab clinic? At least two years. Plus, of course none of this information was forthcoming and required weeks of emailing back and forth. So now I'm angry, anxious and stressed about my health. I want to make a formal complaint but I don't know when I'll find the time.

That wasn't even the worst thing, though. The worst thing was uni reminding me just one last time that it truly doesn't give a shit about its students and why I hate it to its very core. The final piece of work I have left to hand in is a research project that I've been working on all year. However, my supervisor is an utter cunt, and I don't say that lightly. He's incredibly narcissistic and rude for a start. For a presentation I had to do, he forced me to use his own slides without ever looking at mine. He once ended an online meeting because I misspoke when explaining a figure, telling me to call him back when I knew what I was on about because he "never forgets what he sees and doesn't want his brain soiled with incorrect information." Given he never remembers what we've spoken about from one meeting to the next, I call bullshit. Oh and this week? He asked me to explain a figure to him and when he said he didn't understand I asked him if he was looking at my screen share. He said no. I just despair!

To make matters worse, he's never fucking happy with me. He's made me start my work from scratch 3 times now and had a different problem each time. We're rapidly approaching the deadline now, so to get all the work done for the 3rd time I've been working 9am-5pm 6 days a week. Not that he cares. The results don't fit his hypothesis, so I must simply be incompetent. He even once had the audacity to suggest that I "didn't want to do the work" while looking through a 70 page document of my results, because I couldn't explain the findings of a figure I'd made a month ago off the top of my head.

In this weeks meeting, he again gave me an extortionate list of new tasks to do, while berating me at every turn. With a month left submit my thesis and my write up not started, I tried to explain to him that I wouldn't have time to complete the list. He just shrugged and said, "Well I think you should do it." And yes, this man is aware that I have been struggling physically and mentally recently.

I didn't know what else to do to make him listen, so I contacted the course supervisor (who I'd already briefly made aware of my issues with him). She told me to "quit" and "just get on with writing my thesis"... until four hours later after she had spoken to my supervisor and completely changed her mind. She video called me to tell me to do the work and I just broke down. I don't make a habit of ugly sobbing in front of people I've only ever met twice over Microsoft Teams, but this was a particularly bad day.

"Trying to do this work is going to destroy my physical and mental health."

"I can't do this anymore."

"He never listens to me."

"I've been working 6 days a week and it's killing me."

She didn't care. She told me that since my supervisor is an experienced professional, he must know how much he's asking of me and since he insists it's quick and easy stuff, it must be. This man has never done this analysis himself. He doesn't even know how; half the stuff one of his lab workers taught me and the rest I taught myself.

"Chill out" and "calm down" she told me, "do the work and if you have any problems ask John (the lab worker)"

By the time I pressed the leave button, I could barely breathe, let alone talk. I was just choking and sobbing and had snot pouring down my face. I was just so tired. So stressed. So... ignored. I didn't know where I would find the hours in the day, but I started by cancelling the trip to see my parents this weekend. To them I am not a student, and a student with health problems at that. I am simply a machine to use for free research.

I just wanted the stress to give me a break. I just wanted a break. I was genuinely afraid that my heart was going to stop from the stress alone. I didn't know where else to turn. The counseling service put me on a waiting list. My tutor told me to "just keep trying my best". My mentor told me to talk to my course supervisor. My course supervisor told me to work. A was busy revising for an exam the next day and I didn't want to bother him. So, I turned to my unhealthy coping mechanisms instead.

I didn't mean to do it as badly as I did. I just wanted to scratch my skin enough to feel it burn and give me something else to feel instead of the huge mass in my chest. But the scissors were sharper than I thought and when I looked down there were four long cuts that had gone through the skin and fat. I knew immediately I'd fucked up. There was no way those edges were coming together on their own. Honestly, I was just mad I'd given myself something else to do. So, I covered them with gauze and tape and kept on working. Because I needed to work. I needed to get it done. I would deal with going to the hospital later but I couldn't lose these working hours.

Once the blood was dripping from the gauze I finally, begrudgingly, went to the hospital. Honestly? They were surprisingly nice. They were understanding and they listened. I was so worried that they'd think I was some cringy emo kid looking for attention. I honestly felt like a total knob going there, but I didn't have a choice. I never felt judged or like they thought I was wasting their time or that it was all my fault. Of course, I know that it was my fault and I felt like a fool. But I also don't blame myself for becoming so desperate. At one point a doctor came in with a medical student who was visibly shy and embarrassed when examining me. I told her I had a place at medical school, so not to worry as I'd be in her place soon. And again, I was shocked because they didn't once tell me not to go. I thought they were going to say "if you can't cope right now, starting medical school isn't for you!" But they never said anything like that. Instead they were shocked I'd gotten in to such a good uni and seemed incredibly genuine when they wished me well.

Oh, and the wounds? Thankfully I didn't need stitches so I got them pulled together again with steri-strips. And in case you didn't believe me that I didn't intend them to be so bad, I nearly passed out three times after looking at them. So, I truly am a fucking idiot, Josh. Lesson learnt, I suppose. Though I'm still afraid what will happen next time I run out of options.

It's finally the end of the week now, but the universe still hasn't given me a break. My mum called earlier and told me my rabbit will be crossing the rainbow bridge tomorrow as he seems to have had a stroke. I mean, it's a small mercy that he's an old bunny and he's been unwell for a long time, so it's not a shock. But it's still so sad and I'll miss him so much. What really tops it all off is that I was going to see him this weekend until I had to cancel my trip home due to the workload.

Man, I just. Why does shit stuff seem to come so easily to me? It's difficult not to feel personally victimized when shit news after shit news lines up so well. I wish good things came as thick and fast. I hope to fuck my luck changes soon because honestly I'm terrified that it's taking years off my life.

Thanks for listening, Josh,

C

[jbbarnesnnoble]

Hello lovely people! And welcome to my first writting challenge. The aim of this challenge is to shine a light on mental health, medical conditions, and the things that can have impacts on us. This started out initially being a PCOS Awareness challenge but through conversations on the TCC discord, it’s become a challenge surrounding mental health in general. 

May is Mental Health Awareness Month. The goal of this challenge is to lift each other up, and show that it’s okay not to be okay. Spread some love and light during a challenging time in the world to those who struggle with chronic illness, depression, anxiety, self-esteem issues, grief, PCOS, acceptance from their families and communities for being LGBT+, and anyone struggling with insecurity. 

This challenge will run through September 15th, 2020. It will run through part of Mental Health Awareness Month, through Pride Month, and through part of PCOS Awareness Month. I probably have too many prompts, but I wanted to ensure that there was a wide array to choose from. 

The Rules:

1. Utilize resources available online if you’re dealing with subject matter you’re not that familiar with. I’m not going to go all “cite sources” on y’all, but please do make sure to do your research. Writing about some of these issues can be hard if you don’t have first hand knowledge of how it can affect you. The goal of this challenge is to write about topics that we tend to shy away from, that many of us struggle with, from mental health struggles to chronic illnesses to low-self esteem. A gentle reminder that if you think writing about a subject will be triggering for you, please look after yourself first. 

2. Use #JBBNNMHAMChallenge to tag your fic

3. Dark!Fic- I was up in the air on allowing dark!fic in the challenge. Due to the subject matter involved in this challenge, please don’t submit dark!fic. I enjoy dark fics, but this challenge isn’t the place for them.

4. Smut- Smut is welcome! Make sure you tag it appropriately. 

5. No inc*st, dubcon/noncon, underage, etc 

6. Ships- I prefer reader inserts, but show me what ya got 

7. Selecting Prompts: Just let me know which one you want to do! 2 people per prompt! The song prompts have a line from them under it. You DO NOT need to use the line in your submission! It’s mostly to help you decide if you’re interested in a song before you take a listen to it. The song prompts are broken down into ‘support’, ‘general’, and ‘grief’ but feel free to use them as you see fit. I categorized them mostly for organization 

8. Trigger Warnings: Use warnings as needed. Fics dealing with depression, anxiety, eating disorders, or other mental health issues should be tagged appropriately to ensure that readers that may be triggered by the subject matter can avoid the fic. Trigger warnings are non-negotiable

The prompts are under the cut! 

Prompts:

Dialogue Prompts:

“You never have to ask, you know that right? Say the word, and I’ll do it.” ( @whistlingwillows​ )

“Would you believe me if I said it’s because I love you? I’d give you the world if you asked.” ( @jbbuckybarnes )

“I promise you. One day, it will get easier. Those feelings might never fully go away, but it will get easier.” ( @imnotasuperhero​ )

“You ever feel like you can’t breathe? Like the whole world is collapsing in on itself and no one notices? No one cares? Like you can’t escape it?” ( @nekoannie-chan )

“It’d probably be easier if you left”

“Please leave me alone”

“I said I don’t want to talk about it. What part of that is hard for you to understand?” ( @sweetwritesx​ )

“I wish I could believe you when you said that.” ( @evansweaters ) 

“How do you even begin to move on?” ( @blackwidowballet )

“You sure about that, moonman?” 

“I don’t know. All I do know is I don’t belong here” (@buckybarnesplumwhore​)

“That’s not true. And I will tell you that every day of your life until you believe me.” 

Sentence Prompts:

Feel free to adjust the pronouns as needed 

It was a day. It was the only way it could be described.

The feeling stuck like super glue, unable to be shaken away with a few whispered words and comforting hugs. ( @buckybarney ) 

You never knew something could hurt like this, that emotional pain could resonate so strongly through every atom of your body. (@buckybarnesplumwhore​)

That smile. He/she missed that smile. ( @bethycupcake )

It was progress. Baby steps forward. Maybe it wouldn’t all be okay today, but someday? It would be. ( @trillian-anders ) 

The list of medications that had been tried seemed like it was a mile long. ( @buckyreaderrecs)  

If you had another condescending doctor tell you your problem wasn’t a problem you were going to scream. 

The warmth of the sun fell over you like a blanket in the middle of winter. ( @avintagekiss24 ) 

Today was going to be good. 

It didn’t take a genius to figure out that this was going south. 

AU and Trope Prompts: 

Soulmate 

College

Childhood Friends

Friends to Lovers

Enemies to Lovers 

Musicians

Writer

Professional Athlete 

Teacher

Coffee Shop

Fake Dating

Accidental Marriage

Royal

Librarian 

Neighbors ( @shakespeareanqueer​ )

Song Prompts:

Support: 

1. Nobody Ever Told You - Carrie Underwood

Lyric Snippet: “Wish you could see yourself the way I do. Nobody ever told you, nobody ever told you. Shine like a diamond, glitter like gold, and you need to know what nobody ever told you” 

2. Missing You - All Time Low

Lyric Snippet: “And if you need a friend, I’ll help you stitch up your wounds. I heard that you’ve been, having some trouble finding your place in the world. I know how much that hurts. But if you need a friend, then please just say the word.” 

3. Barefoot and Bruise - Jamestown Story Lyric Snippet: “Maybe when your sky comes crashing down, I can be your angel on the ground. If you get tired and can’t go on, I will carry you along, when the rocks below your feet wear out your shoes, when you’re barefoot and bruised” 

4. Hold On Till May- Pierce the Veil Lyric Snippet: “If were you, I’d put that away. See you’re just wasted and thinking about the past again. Darling, you’ll be okay.” 

5. This Song Saved My Life - Simple Plan Lyric Snippet: “You let me know like no one else that it’s okay to be myself” ( @captain-kelli​ ) 

General: 1. It Feels Like - 1551 Lyric Snippet: “No I’m not fine, every second is a record of why, I live my life never doing things right” 

2. Sunrise - 1551 Lyric Snippet: “Nightmare that’s not gonna stop, it’s darkness you’re not gonna stop” 

3. Home - Machine Gun Kelly, X Ambassadors, Beba Rexha Lyric Snippet: “All these miles, feet, inches, they can’t add up to the distance that I have been through just to get to a place where even if there’s no closure I’m still safe. I still ache from trying to keep pace. Somebody give me a sign, I’m starting to lose faith”

4. Broken Arrows - Daughtry  Lyric Snippet: “The best of intentions I lay at your feet. And I need you to see past the worst part of me.”

5. Used - Serious Matters  Lyric Snippet: “The wounds are gone and the pain still lingers. But this time I won’t stand by, I don’t need you in my life”

6. Unsteady - X Ambassadors  Lyric Snippet: “Hold on to me, ‘cause I’m a little unsteady, a little unsteady” ( @jamesbarnesappreciationclub​ )

7. Let It Land - Tonight Alive Lyric Snippet: “And everything we hate is something we just bought along the line” 

8. Cold As You - Taylor Swift Lyric Snippet: “You put up walls and paint them all a shade of grey. And I stood there loving you and wished them all away. And you come away with a great little story, of a mess of a dreamer with the nerve to adore you” 

9. Tied Together with a Smile - Taylor Swift Lyric Snippet: “Hold on, baby you’re losing it. The water’s high, you’re jumping into it, and letting go, and no one knows. That you cry but you don’t tell anyone that you might not be the golden one. And you’re tied together with a smile, but you’re coming undone.” 

10. Human Interaction - Tonight Alive Lyric Snippet: “I don’t know love. I don’t know hate. I am numb. Wish I could find the words to say. Asking please, as colors fade. I need to breathe. Before I turn the world to grey.” 

Grief: 

1. Jersey On the Wall (I’m Just Asking) - Tenille Townes 

Lyric Snippet: “If I ever get to heaven, you know I got a long list of questions. Like how do you make a snowflake, are you angry when the earth quakes? How does the sky change in a minutes, how do you keep this big rock spinning? Why can’t you stop a car from crashing? Forgive me, I’m just asking” 

2. Five More Minutes - Scotty McCreery

Lyric Snippet: “Time rolls by, the clock don’t stop. I wish I had a few more drops of the good stuff, the good times. Oh, but they just keep on flying right on by like it ain’t nothing, wish I had me a, a pause button. Moments like those, Lord knows I’d hit it. Give myself five more minutes” 

3. Dad’s Old Number - Cole Swindell

Lyric Snippet: “Sometimes I forget, these ten digits ain’t my lifeline anymore. Every now and then I dial them up when life gets tough or when the Braves score. Sorry about the one ring hang ups, early morning and late night wake ups. It was just me. In case you wondered, you’ve got dad’s old number.” 

4. The Other Side - Lauren Alaina

Lyric Snippet: “There’s gonna be a lot of sadness on a lot of happy days, I’ll try to think of this moment, this place” 

5. I Was Here - Beyonce

Lyric Snippet: “So they won’t forget I was here. I lived. I loved. I was here. I did, I’ve done, everything that I wanted and it was more than I thought it would be. I will leave my mark so everyone will know I was here.” 

6. Gone Too Soon - Simple Plan

Lyric Snippet: “Like a shooting star, flying across the room. So fast, so far, you were gone too soon. You’re a part of me. And I’ll never be the same here without you. You were gone too soon.” 

7. Amelia - Tonight Alive

Lyric Snippet: “And you will always be perfect, you’ll always be beautiful, our hearts, will never forget you. You didn’t belong here, and it’s become so clear why heaven called your name.” 

[chmpgnpearls]

𝐩𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐭 & 𝐭𝐫𝐨𝐩𝐞 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 !

prompts & tropes list  — send me a request and i’ll write it <3

— this is a detailed list of prompts and tropes that i’ve come up with or found online,, 

— if you wish, send me a request with your preferred prompt/genre/trope (from this list or not!) and i’ll write it,, 

— also feel free to mix and match the prompts you most like, no restrictions!,,

— just a little reminder that i write for nct ot21, i do not write smut but i do write suggestive scenes!  

— also, please don’t request anything sexual or suggestive about chenle or jisung,,

TROPES

cryosleep ;

circus ;

freakshow ;

greek god / demigod ;

witch / warlock ;

Harry Potter au ;

photographer + model (member or reader) ;

stylist + brand ambassador (member or reader) ;

end of the world ;

post apocalypse ;

Avatar the last Airbender au ;

soulmate / twin flame ;

first date ;

rich kids ;

painter + muse ; (member or reader)

exchange student ;

boyscout ;

summer fling ;

royal ;

historical ;

fallen angel ;

guardian angel ;

college boyfriend ;

single parent ;

skater boy ;

stoner ;

best friends ;

enemies to lovers ;

spirit/ghost (member or reader) ;

fairy, siren, elf, vampire, werewolf, shapeshifter, nymph or whatever creature floats your boat ;

friends with benefits ;

FLUFF/CRACK PROMPTS

“Oi, do you have a thing for my best friend?”

“Is that my shirt?”

“Talk later, cuddles now.”

“Could you get that on the top shelf?”

“Fancy seeing you here!” “I literally told you where I was going to be.” 

“You look...breathtaking.”

“Yeah well, you owe me a kiss.”

“Let me walk you home, please?”

“There’s no way that dish is supposed to smell like this.”

“Ohh I get it, you're jealous!”

“Do you trust me?”

“Come here, your hair is a mess.”

“Is this seat taken?”

“If you don’t tell me to stop, I’m going to kiss you.”

“Blanket hoggers don’t get morning kisses, sorry.”

“What the hell?” “Fuck, I guess this is not the bathroom then?”

“You’re so fucking cute.”

“Hello, it’s me again.”

“Whatever happens, I’m by your side, always.”

“Oh I’m never gonna let you live this down!”

“Wait, you actually remember that?”

“Alright, bet!”

“You’re not going anywhere.”

“You smell really good.”

“I’m too sober for this.” “You don’t even drink.” “Maybe I should start.”

“You come here often?” “Well, I work here. So I think I’d have to say yes.”

“If I ever die, I’m gonna haunt you forever.” “What do you mean IF?”

“I didn't get soaking wet through walking to your place for you to say no to pizza. I have beer too. I know you’re sad, so let me in.”

“Let’s drink wine and trash talk our co-workers!”

“I’m the pun-master, you'll miss me when I’m gone.”

“Are you really suggesting to go to a cemetery at night?” “We’re smoking weed, it’s literally like burning sage!”

“This is not stonage, this is past stonage.”

“Do you know what did I even go in there to get?”

“What just happened?” “I swear it wasn't me!” “Well who was it then?” “Your cat... this little shit.”

“I’m going to die. I’m going to die with an absolute idiot!”

“What did I do to deserve you?”

“I guess chivalry is not so dead after all.”

“I’m not kissing you under the rain! You have a death wish or something?”

“God, you're so dense sometimes.”

“I want to wake up next to you every day.”

“Oh my god, we’re matching!”

“Apparently all our friends have a bet going that we end up together.”

“I really want to kiss you right now.” “Do it then.”

“I would’ve had breakfast ready, but you were sleeping on my arm, and I didn’t want to wake you up.”

“Alright, one more dad joke and you're single.”

"Keep smiling at me like that."

“Maybe you should leave the cooking to me.”

“Okay, patron saint of lost causes, suit yourself.”

“You’re lucky you're cute.”

FANTASY/SUPERNATURAL PROMPTS

“Why use doors when you can just walk though walls?”

“Make yourself at home, darling.” “Are you serious? How am I supposed to make myself at home in the middle of hellfire?” 

“Can you show me your fangs/ horns/ ears/ wings/ claws?”

“Who would live all alone in the middle of the woods?” “Well, me and my friends, for starters.”

“Your cat just told me to fuck off.” “Oh, shit, I thought I made myself pretty clear when I said ‘no swearing’.”

“So you can just bat your wings and take off.” “Yup.” “No magic powder or spell?” “That’s Peter Pan, darling.” “Oh...”

“Of course I’m not gonna tell anybody! I wouldn't want my best friend to become a lab rat for some science freak.”

“Sometimes I talk to the moon, she’s my best confidante, you know?”

“What are you gonna do about it? You and your mediocre skills in charms don't scare me.”

“What do you mean you have a pet dragon?”

“You really don’t want to eat that, it’s in a spell jar for a reason.”

“Oh god please don't kill me! I’m too young to die so soon!” “Kill you? No, listen, you accidentally came into possession of something of mine, and I really need it back.”

“So you're telling me this [object] I bought is cursed?” “Yup. Sucks to be you I guess.”

“I could swear I saw that portrait follow me with his eyes.” “Yeah, I know, that’s my brother. He has the bad habit of freaking out pretty people by checking them out.”

"Maybe the dragon is right, maybe you are just a bitter person."

"Just because I am the chosen one doesn't mean I am above killing you."

"Perhaps we should have listened to the orc, those clouds look murderous."

"So, have you always sucked at dueling?"

“How much blood could one vampire possibly drink?”

“If you don’t like my plants, pick some other house to haunt!”

“I’m so sorry. I was trying a new spell and things got out of hand....really out of hand.”

“I know it’s you...but nice try.”

“If it makes you feel any better, you’re my favorite fleshy meatbag.”

“Look, if I wanted to harm you, it would have happened already.”

“Fuck you I don't have legs!”

“Stop screaming, you're scaring my [supernatural pet].” “Oh I’M scaring it?”

“If you don't stop flicking your wrist like that you're gonna poke someone’s eye out! Let me help you.”

“Merlin’s beard! What is it with your wand?” “Oh, I accidentally dropped it in the toilet this morning and now I think it’s mad at me.”

“Again? Ugh, this is your third time summoning me this week, it better be important!”

“Oh, my plants, they love visitors! Haven't you noticed how they're all standing a bit taller, ever since you walked in?”

“Your laugh...it’s cute. I noticed it makes flowers bloom.”

“Please make it stop, the Sorting Hat is tone bloody deaf.” “Do you really wanna say that about a magical hat that can read your mind?”

ANGST PROMPTS

“Did you ever feel the way I did at all?”

“I want you to be happy... even if it’s not with me.”

“You were not there... why weren't you there?”

“Stop being a fucking dick, will you?”

“I’m only important to you when you need something from me.”

“Please... just get out / go away.”

“I haven't really slept since you died.”

“How do we fix this?” “You can’t fix something that doesn't exist anymore.”

“You’re never gonna let this go, aren't you?”

“You don’t remember last night at all, do you?”

“I lost the baby.”

“Forget it, I should’ve never come here in the first place.”

“Maybe you should’ve thought about that when you broke up with me.”

“I don't deserve you.”

“I trusted you.”

“Are you even listening to me?”

“You’re supposed to be yelling at me! And... and hitting me! Why aren't you doing that?”

“I just wanted to help...”

“Get out of my head.”

“How stupid do you think I am?”

“Don’t you dare leave me! Not now.”

“Tell me I’m wrong...please.”

“Why do you keep doing this to yourself?”

“What the hell is wrong with you?”

“It’s not that easy.”

“That’s not what I meant and you know it.”

“There’s no us, there never was.”

“If you walk out that door, it’s over.”

“I made a mistake, okay? I’m human for fuck’s sake!”

“Hang on. You’re gonna be okay soon, just breathe.”

“I don’t know who you are anymore.”

“There’s no turning back from this.”

“You don’t get to come back after years and look at me like that!”

“You fucking disappeared, when I needed you the most.”

“Just shut up.”

“Wake up! Please wake up.”

“Do I know you?”

“We’re not good for each other anymore.”

“I’ve always been honest with you. You owe me the truth.”

“Do you know what a gunshot wound feels like?”

“Shh, it’s okay. It was just a dream.”

“I wish I could take the pain away.”

“You’ve been crying, I can tell.”

“I fucking love you” “Hang up, and tell me this when you’re sober.”

“You haven't been picking up my calls.” “Yeah, I know. I did it on purpose.”