#also it is 3 am here and i should be sleeping but here i am a night owl as it was lmao

[ghost-proofbaby]

september love (e.m.)

eddie finds you awake on the first night he's home from the hospital, and wonders what you're thinking.

pairing: eddie munson x reader

warnings: mentions of canon ending of season 4, except eddie didn't die. mentions of hospital and medical procedures (in passing). sort of sad, sort of not. a little bit of angst? hurt/comfort. religious imagery (specific mentions of heaven).

wc: 1.7k+

an: this was just some sort of weird rambling upon seeing the poem mentioned above at like 11 pm? 1 am? who knows. time is a construct. also, reader is compared to a 'violent' dog/animal during eddie's recovery, and if you like this metaphor/vibe, then i strongly suggest and urge you to go read @myosotisa's fic Half Life. she does it far more beautifully than i ever could, and it is one of my favorite fics. ever.

Your head is on his chest. 

Your temple and your ear are flush with the soft cotton of his wrinkled t-shirt, the one he insisted upon sleeping on his first night home, and it’s all you can think about. The smell of week old laundry, the stubborn linger of a cologne gifted too long ago to remember the worn name of. A steady heartbeat that still pumps along a little too slow for your liking. The rise and fall of each promised breath that you force your lungs to pace themselves with. Just enough heat radiating off of him to keep you warm, here in bed, here in the dim light of twilight as he rests.

No tubes and no IVs to worry about. No nurses barging in every ten minutes. No beeping of a dozen machines to be your symphony tonight. 

No, you don’t need a machine now to keep track of his heart rate. You’ve learned to do that entirely on your own; your heart has learned how to match his with each dulled thump against the skin you cling to through this dingy old t-shirt.

It can’t be long after 3 AM, the moonlight almost as bright as a rising sun as it peeks itself in through the curtains of the window, as if whispering to check if you might still be awake.

And you are. And all you can think about, is your head on his chest. 

It’s been over a month since you’ve had this type of moment with Eddie. A moment where you’re truly, sincerely, utterly alone with him. Privacy had become a delicacy that you weren’t aware of the fragility of. You hadn’t understood its importance until you had to bask in its absence, always on edge for the next body to walk into the room and take the air out of your lungs. Always anxious for the next sound of news, always worried for the next shoe to drop. 

You’d forgotten what it had felt like for Eddie to twitch his fingers along your spine in his sleep, and for you to be the only witness to his quiet worship, even unconscious. 

Your lips part, and you almost consider whispering hard truths into the trembling night air. There’s a million and one dying words cementing your tongue to the roof of your mouth, and you know that every single one you could even manage to utter would only make you sound like a broken record. 

I’m sorry this happened to you.

I’m sorry I couldn’t protect you.

I’m sorry I couldn’t prevent it. 

All things already said to him when he had been drifting in and out of consciousness in that hospital bed. All apologies already buried between muted sobs as you’d clutched his knuckles a little tighter than you should have, a little too selfish in the moment to wonder if it might be hurting him. The only thing on your mind had been keeping him, holding him, feeling him. He was alive – he was alive. And for the first seven nights of his endless rest, all you could wonder is for just how much longer that desperate prayer could ring true.

Would he leave you again? Would he lose the fight? 

You can’t recall without bias which one of you had been the true wounded animal in that little room, scented with burning bleach and cacophonies of nearby patients just beyond the curtains. 

Eddie, looking up at the police who had finally come once he woke, eyes big and teary as he’d tried to wrap his head around his new reality.

You, baring teeth and claws at them in the end, ready to bite hard at anyone who got too close.

It wasn’t just the police. It was everyone. 

It was the same juxtaposition between the two of you at those nurses who would interrupt the nights, always frowning so dutifully at the sight of your carefully curled figure at Eddie’s side. When friends and family came to visit, and they all had the same look of disbelief. As if they were about to tell you that you had imagined it all; he hadn’t survived, he hadn’t come back to you, you were imagining it. You’d been all bark and awaiting bite towards Steve Harrington and the newly revived Jim Hopper, all the same. Their figures bore no difference to you when it came to protecting what was so holy to you. Him, Eddie, here and alive. Eddie, who slept enough for the both of you those nights. The pain in your back from all the uncomfortable hours spent in that little chair at his bedside was insignificant, all the headaches you’d endured from the smell of iodine that still clung to the air after every surgery were pitiful attempts at the Universe removing you from him. 

If you could, you might try to recall your reaction when Dustin Henderson had babbled on through tears as to what had happened to Eddie when the two were left alone. His final act of heroism, or so he thought. 

But you can’t. Right here, right now, you aren’t capable of living in the past. You’ve been haunted enough these last few weeks, and all your numb mind can handle is counting the beats of his heart. Like the rhythm of a song – 1, 2, 3, 4. 1, 2, 3, 4. Staccato verses that you sometimes whisper in time, getting worried when they don’t follow the infallible metronome you’ve set for him. 

“You’re still awake.”

The murmur of his voice is a drink of cold water, startling in the dark greys and blues wrapping the two of you up. 

You lift your head ever so slightly against your better judgment, “Go back to sleep, love.” 

“Touche.” 

You can see his grin even through the shadows. It’s weak, not yet quite as vibrant as it once had been, but it’s there. He’s still alive. He’s still grinning. 

“Whatcha thinkin’ about?” The pads of his fingertips are more intentional against your spine now, longer strokes and mindless shapes, “I’ve got a penny in my pocket if you tell me.”

His words are only slightly slurred. Probably residual of the pain medication they’d prescribed him.

“I wasn’t thinking about anything,” you say, and you mean it.

You hadn’t been thinking. You had just been listening to his heart and his breaths, feeling the weight of him beneath you. 

Little things you had taken for granted once upon a time. Never again, your soul aches as you let your head drop back to his chest carefully. Never again.

“You’re just laying awake, not thinking about anything, at…” he trails off, turning his cheek and squinting in the direction of the alarm clock across the room. The glow is dim, and you know you’ll have to change the batteries soon, “Four in the morning?”

4 AM. Last you had checked, it had been 3 AM. You hadn’t even noticed an hour had passed. 

“Is that really so hard to believe?” you smile up at him, and it’s just as sincere as your words had been. When his honey brown eyes meet yours, warmth drizzles down your entire being. Across your brain, down your spine, wrapping around your limbs. You could spend an eternity here, simmering in his warmth, content to your heart’s fullest capability. 

You’d almost lost him. You’d almost lost this warmth. 

You take a second to memorize his features. Studying him as if you didn’t already know every curvature, every freckle, every winkle better than you knew your own soul. You’re looking at him as if you may never look at him again, and he can tell. 

He doesn’t have to say that he gets it. His hand simply wanders up to cup your face, basking in you as you were him. Two souls, intertwining over overlapping legs and synchronized heartbeats, and he doesn’t have to say a word. 

The moment his fingers card into your baby hairs, you’re turning your mouth quickly to that warm palm. One, two, three kisses. Quick pecks, rapid succession. A secret language that you know he, and only ever he, can begin to understand. 

I love you.

I love you.

I love you. 

It drowns out all sorrow, all guilt, all hauntings. Your cracked lips, and the feeling of those lines across his palms. If there is a Heaven, it’s not somewhere in a pearly gated kingdom above. There are no hark angels and there is no bearded man awaiting. 

It’s here. It’s now. It’s 4 AM, in bed with your lover, getting to experience moments you’d come so close to losing for eternity. 

Do the poets know? They must. All the love, all the adoration, in both your bodies is too abundant for them to not feel it. To not write about it. 

“Go back to bed, love,” you repeat almost a perfect imitation of your first command when he had awakened, and this time, his eyelids flutter with your words, “I’m not gonna disappear between now and sunrise. I promise.” 

“No,” he quickly whispers back as his eyes fully shut, and your palms smooth out the wrinkles of the shirt to feel the ridges of scars hidden for now. Scars he’s ashamed of, for now. Scars you’d one day show all the love in the world to, sacred proof that he came back to you, only once he was ready. One day. “But you’re looking at me like I might.”

His words are heavy in the shades of violet now sinking into the room. But the moon is high in her sky, and the crickets are chirping to the East, and he’s right.

You’re terrified the daylight will steal him from you. You’re terrified the new day might tear away all that you’ve sunk your teeth into. 

“I’m not going to,” he mumbles around a yawn, arms slowly encasing you, pulling you in closer, “I’m not going anywhere. Yeah?” 

He’s back with that warmth, coaxing you right back into heavenly notions with him. You let him; he baits you, and you follow. 

“Yeah.”

It’s a sigh. Of hopefulness, of relief, of belief. 

This time, the I love you is more than a prayer repeated in your mind. And he somehow manages to say it back, just as he begins to slip back under. Still holding you and hands still twitching where they rest against your back. 

Let daylight come. You aren’t capable of worrying about it, or stressing about all that has happened. You aren’t capable of thinking about anything right now, because only one thing matters as your temple and ear find his heartbeat once more. 

Your head is on his chest.

eddie's taglist: @capricornrisingsstuff @thisisktrying @mediocredreams @vol2eddie @corrcdedcoffin

@ches-86 @alovesongtheywrote @its-not-rain @feralchaospixie @cheesypuffkins87

@thebook-hobbit @babez-a-licious @eddies-acousticguitar @aysheashea@kellsck

@cosmorant @billyhvrgrove-main @micheledawn1975 @eddiesxangel @siriuslysmoking

@witchwolflea @tlclick73 @magicalchocolatecheesecake @mizzfizz @nanaminswhore

@mikiepeach @ali-r3n @hawkebuckley @alwaysbeenfamous @darkyuffie-blog

@vintagehellfire @lilmisssiren @elvendria@loveryanax@stylexrepp

@princessstolas @fangirling-4-ever @eddiesguitarskills @babez-a-licious @josephquinnsfreckles

@writinginthetwilight @trixyvixx @kittydeadbones @munson-addict @bluejeangenies

@cryingglightningg @joannamuns9n @missmarch-99 @rhirojo@findmeincorneliastreet

[verstappentime]

divorce verse for your wednesday <3 this is from after max & dan break up. (the rest of this verse is here) (the scene previous to this will get finished but this is what i have today <3) The first night Daniel’s gone, Max walks into a fucking wall trying to go to the bathroom.

It’s happened before, because his depth perception is awful and worse in the dark and worse sometimes than others, but usually he hits knee-first or something. Nope, just a wall right to the orbital bone. 

It’s not something Daniel could have saved him from, but it still doesn’t make it any easier. Daniel’s not there to be woken up by his cursing a blue streak and ask if he’s alright, to sit him down and put ice on it and make him feel less pathetic.

His head is throbbing, in a normal person kind of way. He’s going to have a massive goose egg. He finally gets to the light switch, very, very carefully, and tempts himself to go down the hall with the promise of crying about it afterward.

It’s easier, with the bedroom light illuminating the way. He makes it there and back okay. 

He needs to not call Daniel, but he’s groggy and worked up and he gets confused at night and– he’s just going to lose it if he can’t talk to someone. 

Daniel picks up on the first ring. He must still have Max excluded from do not disturb. Must be sleeping with the ringer on.

“I walked into the wall,” he says, before Daniel can get anything out. 

“What?” He can hear Daniel sitting up, sheets rustling. He should be scolding Max for calling in the middle of the night. He doesn’t. “Are you hurt?” 

“I hit my head. Or, like, my face. Both.” Max touches where the bruise is forming on his head. He kind of forgot what hurt that’s not coming from the inside feels like. He pokes it again. He’s lucky he hit on bone, probably, and that it wasn’t a corner and he’s not bleeding. “I don’t know,” he says, voice cracking. 

“Okay.” Daniel’s all calm. This kind of stuff never bothers him. Max wants him to be here. “You sound alright. You weren’t, like, running, right? Do you have a headache?”  “No. I think– I think I am okay.” He pinches the bridge of his nose, just to see how bad it hurts. “This is shit, Daniel.”

“We need to get you some of those lights you can turn on with your voice, yeah? I’ll look in the morning.” We. He’s going to have to stop that. Not right now.

“I can– I’ll do it.” 

“I’ll remind you, then. What do you want to do right now?” 

“I don’t know,” Max says again. “I don’t want to get up again.” He presses his knuckles to his teeth, something awful in his chest. “I feel shit that I called you already.” 

“I don’t care. It’s good you did. I was scared that you wouldn’t. Makes me feel better.” Daniel pauses. “Not that I’m like, glad you walked into a wall.” 

“It sounds very stupid when you say it out loud.” He knows it’s his fault, but he can’t help it: “What am I going to do? Just call you always?” 

“You can, baby.” Daniel never tells him no. Daniel let him leave because he never tells him no. “You have other people, though. They’ll be happy to answer. You can call your mum or Victoria or Charles. But also me, if you want to.” 

Max wants Daniel to tell him that’s unfair. But the idea of being cut off from the only person that really knows what it’s like for him makes him want to throw up. Charles would laugh at him for this one, even though he wouldn’t mean to. Max says, “I think I want to go back to sleep.” 

“Good idea. You want me to stay on?” 

“No. That will be very boring for you.” Max lays down, turning over on his side, his back to where Daniel should be. “Are you sleeping too?” 

“Yeah, Maxy, I’m going to.” 

“Okay. Then we will both go to sleep.” 

“Yeah,” Daniel says, all gentle. “I’m going to text you tomorrow, okay? It’s okay if you don’t want to talk to me after that. But I’ll remind you about the lights and ask about your face.” 

“That’s fine.” He can’t know if he’ll remember, and he really does not want this to happen again, and– and now he knows for sure he’ll hear from Daniel tomorrow. 

There’s a beat where neither of them know what to say, but Daniel’s the bravest and he says, “I love you. Goodnight.” 

“I– Me too, Daniel.” He can’t lie. Not about that.

[firenati0n]

hello friends :) i am so sorry i have been...so behind on all things tag games and writing challenges. i have been riding the struggle bus and i am Doing My Best but a lot of things have suffered in the meantime, like writing consistently. thank you so much for continuing to tag me in these, it means a lot that people think of me or read my work. i will always be grateful for my friends and readers and everyone who shows me kindness. anyway, many thanks as always! <3 much love for y'all.

i have been posting random prompt fics and drabbles here and there, while slowly updating people ruin people as inspiration strikes. I also made a fun graphic for proposal au and people ruin people! i hope to get back into the swing of things soon. not rushing it though, because rest is important. but i don't do well with stillness, you know? I'm not used to that. but i hope y'all have enjoyed the random words in recent weeks! i have written some things I'm very proud of and happy with in the prompt collection especially. and people ruin people is truly a stretch of my writing muscles...I'm not used to angst. but it's fun! it's hard, too. but so far people have been very kind about it!

here's a long snip from a flufftober prompt for ingredients and spells, it will be a little sequel / extension of the kiki's delivery service au / warlock!henry and baker!alex i posted a while back!

Henry is eight, and he can’t sleep.  The trees outside are too big, their shadows too scary in his window as the wind makes the branches thump against the glass. He rubs at his eyes before digging his head in his pillow again, hoping sleep claims him. From underneath his door, light filters in from the hallway—his mother is probably in the kitchen, grinding herbs and ingredients for her potions.  If there’s anyone who can help him, it’s her. “Oh, my little love,” she says, when Henry walks into the kitchen, knowing he looks as miserable as he feels. “Are we having trouble sleeping?” He nods. “I have just the thing.” She flits around, grabbing leaves and powders from the cupboard to grind before mixing everything in a pot. The smell of chamomile and honey fills the kitchen, warm and comforting.  She pours the potion into two mugs and hands one to Henry with a soft smile. “This should help, my darling. Here, I’ll drink it with you.” They both sip their drinks in comfortable silence. Henry can already feel the magical effects of the brew in his body, limbs starting to sag, head feeling heavy. His eyelids flutter, and Catherine notices.  “Up we go,” she says, before putting the mugs in the sink and scooping Henry up in her arms. He is warm, and he is safe, and he is sleepy.  After he’s all tucked in, duvet up to his chin, he sneaks an arm out to clutch his mother’s shirt as she moves to get off the bed.  “Please,” he pleads quietly. "Not yet." She settles in next to him, slender fingers carding through his hair as she hums. He drifts off, the smell of tea and honey blanketing him. He never learns what was in the brew. Catherine calls it her secret recipe, just for Henry. 

xoxo roop

+ open tag + tagging back everyone who got me in the past few weeks. it's been a while afjslkdjfklasdf

@seths-rogens @sherryvalli @sophie1973 @orchidscript @cha-melodius

@whimsymanaged @kiwiana-writes @alasse9 @porcelainmortal @wordsofhoneydew

@firstprincehornyramblings @run-for-chamo-miles @miharaikko @blueeyedgrlwrites @onthewaytosomewhere

@cultofsappho @ninzied @sparklepocalypse @clottedcreamfudge @zwiazdziarka

@clockwrkpendrxgon @milowren29 @thesleepyskipper @msmarvelouswinchester @caterpills

@suseagull04 @judasofsuburbia @getmehighonmagic @onward--upward @stellarmeadow

@welcometololaland @indestructibleheart @miss-minnelli @thedramasummer @priincebutt

@incalamity @stratocumulusperlucidus @leaves-of-laurelin @14carrotghoul @anincompletelist

[cloudysarts]

Hi there!!

I want to say that your “Mabel’s muse” Au concept has absolutely called my attention, Bill mentions multiple times (Dipper and Mabel’s guide to mystery and fun and TBOB) how he likes Mabel’s personality and wanted her to be his ally…sooo the idea of an alternative time where he decided to approach her and where she trusts him and considers him as her friend is absolutely full of potential

I just think about how many stuff would change and how bill would be a little more genuine with her as he for once isn’t pretending to be an all-wise being and having to constantly rise the ego of Genius minds…instead he just has to party with a teenager whose idea of fun is quite similar to his…he doesn’t have to be the “supreme being” for once just a silly fella in order to earn Mabel’s trust

Also about how some episodes would have to take a completely different route:

maybe “Mindscapers” wouldn’t even take place…because I doubt that Mabel would trust a Bill if he went inside Stan’s head

Bill possessing her during the “sock opera”episode instead of dipper

Also don’t get me started on “the last Mabelcorn” episode. All the angst and horror that Ford would feel when he finds out about the whole friendship with bill situation reflecting himself on Mabel and probably Dipper being the one who search for the unicorn hair while ford tries to convince her that Bill isn’t trustworthy

I apologize for my rant but I seriously love your idea and sorry if it’s a bit confusing English isn’t my first language

I hope you have a nice day and thank you for reading this silly thing!!

first of all, your english is great!! second of all, i am SO sorry it took me so long to respond to this ask, it just made me so happy that i wanted to take my time to craft a response!!!!!! :DDDD (context: for people who don't know what my 'mabels muse' au is, you can check it out over here!)

you are practically SPOT ON with my ideas for this au!!!!!! but i'm gonna briefly run through all the things you brought up!!

first of all, yes, absolutely!!!! for bill, partner-ing up with mabel was a very nice change of pace. he likes stroking the ego's of genius', just for his own amusement, but he doesnt get the THRILL of just getting to PLAY very often!! he's a very childish being, at the end of the day. he enables mabel's selfishness, while getting to indulge his own, silly passions right alongside her!! and obviously, mabel LOVES being enabled <3 i imagine most of the dreams he gives her would make any normal persons eyes bleed

as for your episode ideas, you're mostly right!!! :) mindscaperers does, in fact, NOT happen in this au. in my head, i imagine gideon trying to summon him, only for an 'I.O.U' to appear where bill should be. he's busy hanging out with his favorite pre-teen!!! so gideon skips straight to his backup plan, aka, gideon rises ^^

for sock opera, i'm still on the fence a little bit. one of the reasons bill is hanging out with her at all in this au is because, unlike in the regular timeline, this bill actively wants stanford to be brought home. the reason mabel is important to him, is because he can see timelines where she presses the button in not what he seems, and keeps him from returning. in his mind, he has the greatest shot of success if mabel doesn't press it. in this au, she doesnt even hesitate to trust stan, because she has another, trustworthy voice in her head, yelling DON'T PRESS THE BUTTON. its 2v1! ANYWAY, the reason any of that matters for sock opera, is because he wouldnt have any need to possess anyone, because he has no interest in smashing the laptop! BUT.....i can see him doing it anyway. i figure, most likely, he gets mabel to (willingly) let him use her body, so that she can work on her sock opera while her body sleeps. i just imagine a bill-possessed mabel up at 3 am, covered in hot glue and googly eyes as he tries to work it out shjdkfhjsdkf. but......honestly, he probably destroys the laptop in the process :) just to fuck with dipper <3 not that dipper ever finds out its her. he has no idea that mabel was ever possessed/has no reason to suspect her, because at this point, he still doesnt think bill is real. that is....until the last mabelcorn.

IN the last mabelcorn, mabel reveals to ford that she does recognize bill, and that he lives in her brain! she says it really excitedly, at the table, while dipper kind of just rolls his eyes about it. to her, its vindicating, because it's the first time anyone has ever acknowledged bills existence. but to ford, its HORRIFYING, because he knows it isn't just a coincidence. he knows he has to do something, but he doesn't know what, right away. this is where our ideas differ a little bit, because i think that mabel still WOULD be the one retrieving the unicorn hair! ford just didnt tell her what the hair was for. ford sends her off, because he wants to brainstorm a way to get him out of her head, preferably without hurting her/her memories. he also plans to bill-proof dippers mind in the process, just in case mabel is too far gone already. the events here happen basically the same (with minor tweaks), but instead of dipper suspecting that ford is evil/bill-possessed, this is where he finally learns that bill is real at all. ford tells him about his backstory, and explains the REAL reason he sent mabel out to get the unicorn hair, etc etc. he loves mabel a lot, but hes not sure how to go about dealing with this situation yet. its not HER fault she trusted bill, but he knew that if he just tries to tell her hes evil, she wont believe him. shes known 'her muse' longer, and as of right now, he's never lead her wrong. just like what happened to him in the past...

i wonder how mabel would feel if she only heard the end of that conversation...

[hopelesswrites]

Book Club 3

Part 1 Part 2

Joseph Quinn X Fem!Reader

-Your book club best friend flakes on helping you move, but sends the son she's been trying to set you up with

-

It had been almost a week, and you could not forget Joe like you did the last time. His face kept flashing in your mind like a bad nightmare. You went to sleep over analysing your last conversation.

It didn’t help that Joe was becoming a bigger face in the media, you saw him everywhere. That was also added to the list of reasons why you couldn’t date Joe, how were you going to date the hottest new actor right now. The thought of people talking about you online just through association was mortifying.

It’s as if the more you told yourself no, the more you wanted him. It was a cruel manipulative trick your brain was playing on you, you felt deceived by your own brain.

On top of all this dreadful thinking you also were expected to move flats this weekend. Not a single box had been packed. You had sent Mary a small text earlier that morning fussing about your stressful weekend ahead and she promised to come around and help you sort your stuff into boxes on the Saturday.

-

Another sleepless night of haunting images of Joe’s gorgeous face left you groggy the next morning. You inspected the place; your flatmate had left you alone for the awkward move out. This tenancy wasn’t the easiest and you both were waiting for your time to find your own place.

Slowly you woke up with a cup of coffee, leisurely flipping through books you easily collected in your short time here to put away when you had more energy. A knock at the door had you perking up, Mary said bright and early but you didn’t think she meant first light (it was 11am).

You called out a quick ‘coming’ before dropping the books gently down in the box, you’ll play tetris with them later.

You shuffled over to the door not worried about being in your pyjamas and slippers around Mary, opening the door without a second thought. Stood there was Joe, you looked around him confused, heat rising to your ears at the realization of what is happening here.

“Mums sent me to help” Joe spoke, equally as awkward.

“She get caught up?” You ask, stepping aside to let Joe in.

“So she says” Joe replied a weak laugh punctuating his statement.

You let out a long sigh, “I swear, I love her so much, but she’s ridiculous”

“you’ve got to get a boyfriend, so she’ll stop” Joe joked, stepping inside and toeing off his shoes.

You scoff, “Why do I have to? You get a girlfriend”

“I’m trying” Joe looked around your living room at the empty boxes you had splayed out.

“How much are you moving?” He asked, picking up one of the books you had just been looking at and flipping it over to read the back.

“Bedroom and most kitchen stuff” You answered, watching him carefully. You already felt weird about having him in your home, but now he’ll be going through your stuff? Mary had officially crossed a line.

“Right then, where should we start?” Joe clapped his hands, clearly done with the small talk.

You directed Joe to the kitchen where you instructed him to pack up all the pots and pans, as well as the plates, bowls and cups. In your bedroom you folded your clothes neatly into your one large suitcase and filled boxes with books. It was peaceful and far less anxiety inducing having Joe busy in the kitchen. The sound of pans clashing together in boxes and crockery being wrapped up filled your ears and you deemed it safe to open your drawer of delicates. Humming to yourself you neatly organised sets of lacy underwear and bras that barely get to see the light of day, not noticing the pause on pots and pans clashing and the shuffling of feet approaching your room.

“Am I doing the glassware as-“

“Fuck Joe!” You cried, stuffing the thong you were holding back into its drawer and slamming it shut.

“Sorry” Joe mumbled looking down at his feet, a teasing smirk on his face. You chose to ignore it.

“Glassware?” He tried again.

“Um, only the wine glasses” You sighed, following him out to the kitchen. You observed the work he had done, almost all of it was in its respective box now.

“You can probably go after that; I can handle the rest.”

You were far from calm now, utterly mortified having the man you have just accepted you now fancy see your lacy underwear. Mary had made a hard task more difficult by sending Joe here and you were ready to be done with him.

“I thought I was taking it all over to your new flat?” Joe asked confused. He was bent down, organising a box giving you the best view of his ass. Why did he have such a nice ass?

“That’s fine, ill get an uber XL”

Joe stood up and faced you, hands on his hips. “Don’t be ridiculous, I’ll never mention what I just saw, we can finish this job together and get you moved in”

You stared at him for a moment, analysing the situation.

“Come on, what’s next? I’ll do the books.”

Books was dangerous, books were in your room, meaning Joe would have to pack alongside you, and your underwear drawer.

You led him to your bookshelf with two empty boxes. “Just stack them as tightly as possible”

Before opening up the drawer you were previously packing you looked over to make sure Joe was occupied on his own side of the room. You made quick work of more embarrassing things to pack and moved onto the rest of your clothes, your suitcase slowly filling up.

“Have you read this one?” Joe asked holding up a book for you to see.

“Yes” you answered shortly.

“How about this one?” Another book was held up in the air.

“Yep”

You watched him put it in the box and pick up another one, this one displaying a large image of a mans naked torso.

“Yes, I’ve read that one too” you spoke before he could hold up the book.

Joe chuckled, placing it in the box with the others. “For the book club?”

“Not those ones” you answered, heat rising to your face, you didn’t need to be having this conversation with Joe right now.

“I bet mum would like that one, what was it called? Dark Passion”

“Your mums not keen on romance”

Joe faced you a shocked look on his face, “That was a romance? Could have fooled me, looked a bit more like a smut book”

You laughed at his dramatics “There’s elements of romance in there”

“Barely” Joe responded quietly, his distant tone catching your attention. You looked over to see him immersed in a page you knew, just from the place in the book, was particularly nasty.

“Hey! Stop that!” You scolded, trying to snatch the book out of his hands but he turned away, holding the book in the air as he continued to read.

“His chain fell above her face, rocking back and forth as his thrusts grew harder and faster” Joe stopped, looking over to you “Jesus Christ, id hope my mum wasn’t reading this”

“Close the book please” You whined, ready to wrap the scarf you were holding around Joes neck and end your own suffering.

“Okay, sorry” Joe chuckled to himself, putting it back in the box.

The next hour consisted of you working around Joe to pack the rest of your belongings. You filled his car with your many boxes and did a final sweep of the flat you were so happy to be leaving.

“You didn’t leave your flatmate much to cook with” Joe said, doing his own rounds of the space for anything he may have forgotten.

“Good, she doesn’t deserve it” You scoffed, taking your final bag of clothes and linen and making your way to the door.

“Not a great first flat share experience then?” Joe asked, following you out to his car. You shoved the last bag in the back seat, with a bit of a struggle, and joined him in the car.

“It was an arrangement made out of desperation” You answered.

Joe nodded in understanding and began the drive to your new flat. You had moved a little further out of the city this time, purely due to affordability. One bad flat share does leave a person scarred and the idea of another one didn’t sound all that exciting. You figured this would be the perfect opportunity to start your own little life here in London.

Your new place was a small run down one bedroom unit in a quiet part of town. Joe described it as a retirement village and assured you it was safe and quiet.

“I live pretty close by” Joe added as he was placing a light box in your arms to walk up the two flights of stairs.

Just your luck.

You could already hear Mary, “Joe can pop over to do all your maintenance jobs” in that ‘I’m finally getting my way’ tone of hers.

Inside you dropped your boxes in the small kitchen space. The flat came with appliances and a bed so you were practically all set with what you brought with you, just needed a couch and television.

“This is pretty nice” Joe exclaimed as he walked through the open door with your last box. “I just spoke to a neighbour by the way, lovely lady, she’s baking you brownies apparently”

“Oh, Margie, yeah I spoke to her when I inspected the place, I think she put in a request for me to get the lease”

Joe offered you a puzzled look. “You really have a way with older women, don’t you?”

You laughed at his accusation, “I have an aura apparently”

“Old lady aura” Joe scoffed.

You looked up at Joe, ready to thank him and bid him goodbye. It felt bittersweet, realising that today hadn’t been as horrible as you expected, and that you had actually enjoyed your time with him.

“What are you doing for dinner?” Joe blurted out before you could get a word of thanks in.

You returned him a puzzled look.

“I mean, you don’t have any furniture, why don’t you come out and we get a pint and some dinner” Joe offered, eyebrows raised in suggestion.

You went to reject Joes offer but he stopped you again.

“As friends, honestly, mum didn’t put me up to this. Just get dinner with me”

You considered your options. It was either a pub feed with Joe or Chinese on the floor while you unpacked your wardrobe.

“My shout though, for helping me today”

Joe smiled wide, “Great, there was a nice looking place down the road, happy hour special”

You followed him out the door to start your walk to the pub and reminded yourself:

Friends

Dinner

That’s it.  

[httpseungmxn]

Big Boy

Quackity X Streamer!Female Reader

🍡 - flirty/extra flirty

Authors Note: Hello hello my Angels, I know I promised the Jin fic soon buuuuuut Q posted this photo and everyone, including myself, went wild over it! So I just had to make a fic about it! I have decided to make a new fic category just for this one, flirty/extra flirty! This fic will also play off of the other fics I made about him! I hope you guys can enjoy this as much as I enjoyed writing it!<3

Warnings: Lanai attempts to get reader canceled:( , Reader is called “hermosa” and “amor”, wee bit of cussing fr this time

Triggers: None as far as I am aware!

You had really come to know Alex over the past few months. Him becoming one of your best friends, especially after it came out that your best friend Lenai had been spreading lies about you. She had gone to Alex first, expecting him to believe her, but that was a big mistake. As soon as he noticed the negative way she was speaking, he hopped on call with you while also helping notify your fans of the girl's lies.

Nightly calls were almost a daily thing between you two, as well as constant facetimes during yours and his visits to the gym. His hat was always left on, despite feeling just a little extra hot, he wasn’t quite ready to show you yet. You fully understood considering you used to hide your face from everyone. 

The closer you got, the more you wanted to visit him. You were bringing much more in than you expected from streaming, so a plane ticket wouldn’t be a problem. You wanted it to be a surprise to Alex though, knowing that would make it more fun. Alex had often talked about you guys meeting in real life, and how exciting it would be. It was decided, you would be booking a flight to see him. You already knew where he lived, having reached out to karl to help you with the surprise. Making him swear he wouldn’t tell alex you were going to see him. The plane ticket was much easier to get than you expected, and packing was done in a matter of hours.

The nerves set in that night after you had finished packing. It was clear to you and the fans that you had a bit of a thing for Alex, and getting to meet him was making you nervous. You always wondered if you should tell him how you felt but was always too scared to let it slip out to him. You had come so close to saying it a few days ago but it just got stuck in your throat.

You hardly slept the night, and as much as you hoped you would sleep on the plane, you didn’t. You were too nervous and excited at the same time. Feeling bad when you had to decline a facetime from alex while you were on the plane, not wanting to spoil the surprise. Though you answered him as soon as you were off the plane and in a taxi. “ hermosa, why didn’t you answer any of my calls before? I thought you were mad at me! “, “ im sorrrryyyy, I was taking a long nap, I’m in a taxi now though “,  “ a taxi? Where are you going, hermosa? “,  smiling to yourself, knowing in just a short while he will know where you are.

That came sooner than you expected though. Getting out of the taxi and making sure the camera is angled directly at your face so he can’t see where you are. “ im just visiting a friend nearby. Hold on just one sec, alex. “. knocking very gently on his door and looking to the camera, nerves setting back in when you see him leave his room. “ someones here, but I didn’t order any pizza. if I die, it was the hut, hermosa. “, unable to hold back a giggle. Looking to the door when it opens and smiling brightly at the boy in front of you. “ guess now you know which friend I’m visiting, huh? “. He didn’t respond at first, probably still trying to process it. Just as you didn’t process what he was doing until you were lifted up into a tight hug.

Smiling brightly as you hugged back. Not even letting go when you were set down. His arms were wrapped to tight around your waist, if you were a balloon you probably would’ve popped by now. You didn’t mind it though, you felt safe in his arms. Your nerves being shooed away with one little hug. “ how the fuck did you manage to surprise me so well, hermosa “ ,  “ you know I like to keep you on your toes, ‘lex “. Smiling again when he lets out a light laugh at your response. 

“ come in, come in, sorry it might be kind of a mess “, Alex spoke as he gathered your bags and carried them inside for you. Only then did you realize just how big he had gotten in the muscle category. Eyes staring at his muscles as they flexed with each movement. “ alex, when the hell did you manage to grow those? “, unable to hold your filter. 

Listening to him laugh again before he flexed his arms to show off for you. “ are you checking me out, amor? “. That was new, he had never called you that before, and it was obvious to him you knew what it meant considering the blush coming to your cheeks. “ now don’t get too ahead of yourself, cowboy, you were the one purposely checking me out on call just five minutes ago “.

“ Did you expect me not too? You look really beautiful in that dress “. That was also new. Alex was constantly teasing you, but the tone in his voice was different now. It sounded so serious and dripped with confidence in how he felt. You found it hard to hold eye contact wit him now. Not even five minutes into the meet up, and alex already had you red.

“ Lets be honest, Amor, surely you didn’t expect me to hold back just because you’d turn all red and yell at me. You being here just means I can let it all out, times ten. “. His smile had you wobbly in the legs, there was something so different about seeing it in person compared to facetime.

Only now did you realize this visit was going to be a lot more different than you expected. 

Alex was going to be the death of you.

Authors ending note; So who else got butterflies reading that? I got jittery and I’m the one writing it! I feel like I’m slowly beginning to get better at portraying him, and thats probably because I study the way a lot of people write him while also paying extra attention to how he is in streams/videos. Perhaps soon we will get a confession, and possibly a hair reveal? Who knowssss, guess you guys will have to just stick around for the next one! Also who else lost their mind over that photo he dropped last night? I’m in the whatsapp and as soon as he sent it, twitter was going absolutely chaotic[myself included]! If you guys wanna follow me on social media, my X is @/f_fuyuma! Until next time, My Angels 🫶

[moonkhao]

hi.

[blabberoo]

Sad that i didnt got the time to doodle today >:( so we makin ship analysis babyyy.

Something about Beheaded, Drifter, and V1. Ultradriftcells?? Dv1ftcells?? (Saw these on tags)

Anyways, theres a common theme i see in these 3, and that is existential dread, my favorite soup. Bobby cant die, thus he is well aware of how time will feel faster than before and how he would outlive so many things, that is why attachment is his downfall. Drifter is dying and have so little time, that is why he has little regard of himself, and always tries to focus on what he can do before his time runs out. V1 fears dying, that is why it is the best at what it is doing, a killer machine that continue to perfect its skill, all in the name of blood, fuel that is limited. It is aware that nothing is reserved for their kind on the other side, but it cant do anything but to follow its survival instinct and keep itself feeding.

Ive been blabbering and making comic of driftcells so some of u already know whats up. V1 and drifter, i already shared a few ideas, but the way how drifter disregards his life and v1 clearly values themselves makes an interesting dynamic. V1 cant seem to grasp how drifter can act so nonchalantly about it, after all the drive to survival is so engraved deeply in its code. Drifter somehow sympathizes with v1, knowing he was somehow like that in a way. He knows what it means to dedicate yourself to one thing despite how much blood you coughed up. In a way, they are both cursed under the quarrels of gods and creators.

Beheaded and v1 both find delight in the thrill of combat and bloodshed. That is possibly their way to cope on their own mental dread. Beheaded sees v1 as an elegant being, swift and clean with its work, a being that cant be infected by any disease. V1 finds beheaded very fascinating, considering he is immortal, and in some instances they desire it. They a lil messed up but they got the spirit lmao.

Though perhaps there are a bit of quarrel between the 3. Maybe how beheaded sees how v1 treats drifter. Because for the most part, v1 still sees drifter as a means to survive. Beheaded is clearly attached to drifter. But also drifter's selflessness gets the better of him and sometimes gives too much to both beheaded and v1. The 2 would sometimes retaliate drifter due to them having self preservation in mind, and might had told him that he should act a bit more selfish sometimes

Take away from all of these. These 3 are messed up and are so different from one another, but all of them make up for their own flaws.

Im very normal about them as you can tell.

[iwritenarrativesandstuff]

really wish my one friend would quit flirting with me. and trying to goad me into hanging out more. and assigning us fictional characters that are oh-so-coincidently either couples or with romantic tension. and then interrupting our gameplay to ask me repeatedly if I think they’re “like us” (which they rarely are…). and matching my icon on discord without asking (again, usually by insinuating a couple connection). and giving me random things I do not want and did not ask to receive (and then forcing me to take them???).

[willkimurashat]

I try to avoid leaks, but some things I can’t escape lol. Anyway, I’ll intrude, if I may. Do not trust this Elliot guy. DO NOT. Like, look at his face and tell me he isn’t the kinda guy to raise his hand in class and go, “um aCtUallY” and proceed to mansplain feminism to you? Likeee??

[suncaptor]

yeah this cannot go on i need to take something like my chest is exploding i can't calm down it's 7am i feel insane insane insaneeeee

[keeps-ache]

think this is funny. anyway. the Thoughts are back at it again

[hwanswerland]

look at this and feel nothing challenge failed

[torchickentacos]

They should cancel class. Just for me. Today. Right now

[theladyyavilee]

what do we need him for? || inspired by this post by @evandiaz​​ (because I saw that post and my brain short circuited a little bit and I realized that these two scenes would actually look really nice together)

[Image Description in alt text]

[hotmess-exe]

rearranged my entire bedroom to accommodate my pole, so now my bed is next to the window. which means my cat spends a shit ton of time in bed with me again. which means i am happy

i also got to watch some A+ improv last night — 4 hours worth 😆 and a good chunk of the night i also watched with that nb cutie who's been flirting 😚😚