#diverdcwn 500 blurb night

[matthewtkachuk]

#44 off of the love prompts with jj please

Definitely babe, thank you for sending in a request! Sorry I got a lil carried away!!

44. “I’ll drive you to the hospital.”

pairing: jj maybank x reader

warnings: mentions of a concussion 

word count: just under 1k oops

“y/n? y/n!” As you slowly regain consciousness, you’re aware of a concerned voice saying your name. You groan lowly, unable to comprehend much more than the voices around you, the throbbing pain in your head, the ringing in your ears, and the sharp ache in your right ankle. 

“Oh thank god,” you vaguely register the concerned look of your best friend directly in your face. He’s kneeling beside your body, one hand in his lap and the other on your shoulder where you think he’s been shaking you slightly.

“JJ?” you murmur, confused about his expression and how close his face is to yours. Lately, the feelings brewing between you and your best friend of almost a decade have been complicated, and you’d both been giving the other a wide berth. That’s probably how you got here, you suss out. Typically you would surf together, remind each other of the hidden rocks that you now recall crashing into. Instead, feeling too awkward to ask JJ to accompany you, you had hit the waves early alone. JJ must have had the same thought, and witnessed your spectacular wipe out.

“Well, at least you don’t have memory loss,” he states sarcastically. 

“Memory loss,” you ask, confused. Your eyebrows and nose are scrunched up, and JJ can’t help but think you’re cute, all things considered.

“Did you drive here?” he asks, but the ringing in your ears intensifies, and you only blink at him dumbly. He sighs, and repeats his question. This time you understand him and you nod slightly, wincing at the way it makes your brain feel.

“Okay,” he lets out a breath of relief, he had walked from John B’s, and he didn’t think you would be up for that far of a walk. “I’ll drive you to the hospital.”

“What? no, m’fine,” you slur, vaguely waving your hand in an attempt to display nonchalance. Your eyes flutter shut again as your brain registers its need for sleep. Snapping in your face wakes you up, and you blink lazily at him for a few seconds.

“You gotta keep your pretty eyes open for me, okay? Can you do that?” He asks, and a dopey smile spreads across your face because he called you pretty. 

“Kay,” you reply, focusing intently on his blue eyes to keep yours from closing.

“Do you think you can get up?” He asks, but doesn’t even wait for your reply before sliding a hand underneath your knees and one under your back and lifting you. He tries not to focus on how good you feel pressed against him, even in the awkward hold he has on you. Noticing your eyes starting to shut again, he reminds you “pretty eyes” and your eyes snap open to look at him again. He quickly reaches your car, carefully helping you slide into the passenger seat before buckling you up. You briefly put up a fight, but give up quickly when he gives you a hard look.

You lean your head against the cool window, the sensation providing some relief. Being this close to JJ coupled with the fact that you probably have a concussion has you fixating on the blond driving your car. You admire his side profile, his strong jaw, before your eyes wander down his muscular arms to note the way he grips your steering wheel, knuckles white. It’s a quick drive to the hospital, and JJ remains tense the entire time. You’re not really thinking about the consequences when you say his name softly, his eyes flickering to you briefly. “I’m in love with you,” you tell him seriously. You watch the way his eyes widen, and how his Adam’s apple bobs painfully as he gulps. He opens his mouth to respond to you, but you succumb to the exhaustion you’ve been keeping at bay.

Later, you wake up in a hospital bed, JJ sitting uncomfortably in the chair beside you. He’s holding your hand, which makes you smile a little. His other hand is scrolling through his phone, clearly looking to distract himself. “Hey,” you whisper. His head snaps up to look at you, smiling despite himself that you’re okay.

“Y’Scared me,” he admits shyly, letting go of your hand when he realizes he’s still holding it. 

“M’sorry,” you reply, looking down at your hand that now feels cold, “how bad was it?”

“Well you wiped out pretty bad, I saw you hit your board and then the rocks.” You wince, knowing it couldn’t have been easy for JJ to see that all the way from the shore. “I pulled you out of the water then drove you here. Doc says you’re gonna be okay, you’ve got a bad concussion but you’re lucky you just sprained your ankle. I was worried it was broken.” 

“M’sorry,” you repeat again, unsure of what else to say. It’s quiet for an uncomfortable minute. 

“Did you mean it?” He asks, and you tilt your head confused. You don’t really remember anything after falling from your board. 

“You said you love me,” he tells you and you swear your heart stops beating for a minute.

“Of course I love you, J,” you play off jokingly, but the look on his face is uncharacteristically serious. 

“No, you said you were in love with me. Is- Were you- Did you mean it?” He stumbles over his words. You bite your lip, contemplating your next move. On the one hand, you could irreparably ruin your friendship forever. On the other hand, he could feel the same. Either way, running from your problems clearly isn’t working, you’d given yourself a concussion avoiding him. You pull your bottom lip between your teeth before nodding and softly saying “yeah.”

There’s a beat of silence before his hand is brushing the hair out of your eyes and your lips are connected. Movements slow and cautious, he’s careful as he gently kisses you. Your eyes remain closed for a second after he’s pulled away, only opening when he responds softly, “M’in love with you too.”

come join my 500 follower blurb night!

[matthewtkachuk]

Can you do 9 from the dialogue prompts with topper?

low key was gonna go angst, but i had such a good day on tumblr.com that this came out instead. inspired by the love for give you anything you can consider this an indirect sequel if you wanna 🥺 high-key dedicating this to my fellow top simp pen @girlsru1eboysdroo1  sorry you had to read my angsty top fic at the beginning of your simp journey i listened to tim mcgraw while writing this skdfjklsdjf

9. You’re jealous aren’t you

pairing: topper thornton x reader

warnings: flooof, dad!topper, fear of being a bad mother

word count: 718

You had been secure in your relationship with Topper for a long time now. From the second he’d asked to make it official, you knew he was in it for real. You’d never worried about his eyes straying because he only had eyes for you. You’d witnessed it first hand, Topper was handsome and kind, and other girls were drawn to him. They always flocked to him at parties when you weren’t by his side and even sometimes when you were, thinking they would be the ones to grab his attention even with your hand in his. Every time, he would let them down gently if they were polite, or forcefully if they pressed the issue or were disrespectful to you. 

You never thought another girl would ever capture his attention, and for the first four years of your relationship, you were right. Until her; Lilah Mae. With her perfect curls, her big doe eyes and her soft skin, she had Topper’s full attention. He loved her, and doted on her, and let her fall asleep on his chest. 

He called her Lilly and Princess and Pumpkin, and her first word was Dada.

You loved Topper’s close relationship with your daughter, felt an inexplicable softness in your chest with their every interaction, admired the two of them when they would fall asleep together, her tiny little body resting on his chest as it slowly rose and fell. But sometimes you wished you had that bond with her. Of course she loved you, and you would do literally anything for the almost one year old, but it was daddy who she loved best. She would fuss and cry all day, while you would plead with her, beg her to take a nap so you could rest. The second Topper would walk through the front door after work, he would loosen his tie, give you a kiss and pick up his baby girl who would stop crying the second he held her. 

It was on one such afternoon, where you had already woken up tired from several feedings throughout the night, that Lilah would simply not stop crying. You had tried everything, soother, feeding her, diaper change. You’d walked around with her in your arms, you’d put her in her carseat and taken a drive around the neighbourhood. At this point, you were seriously considering bringing her in to urgent care, but you’d called the health hotline and they had told you to give it another few hours to see if she would stop. You were in the middle of feeling like the worst, most terrible mother in the world who couldn’t even get her baby girl to stop crying for longer than an hour, when Topper miraculously arrived home an hour early. Like clockwork, he loosened his tie and leaned in for a sweet kiss. 

“Rough day?” he asked softly, picking Lilah up from her crib, cuddling her to his chest expertly holding her. You shrugged, lip wobbling as you viewed the two of them. A little green monster sat on your shoulder, envious of how she reacted to being in her daddy’s arms.

“Babe?” He asked, now slightly concerned. He took one look at your exhausted face, and couldn’t stop the smile from forming, “You’re jealous, aren’t you?”

You thought about denying it, but Topper knew you better than yourself. He wasn’t asking for a confirmation, he was asking to give you the opportunity to share what you were thinking.

“I just, I look at you and I see that you two have this beautiful bond and I wish I had that with her, too.” You admitted, feeling a little silly as you did.

“Listen baby, you do have a beautiful bond with her. You carried her and gave her a safe space to grow for nine months, I’m just taking on my shift to do the same.” He shifted Lilah onto his shoulder without waking her up, and used his other arm to pull you in for a family hug. You relished in the feeling of being so close to the two people who meant the most to you in the whole world, heart uplifted. 

Softly kissing the top of Lilah’s head and then your temple, he whispered, “I love both of my girls so, so much.”

everything taglist: @velyssaraptor @danicarosaline @copper-boom @x-lulu @prejudic3 @ohfreyfrey @downbytheouterbanks @ilovejjmaybank @bricksatanakinswindow @jellyfishbeansontoast

[matthewtkachuk]

#40 from the dialogue prompts with jj pls

lowkey based on real life - don’t fall in love with friends who are emotionally unavailable, my friends 🥺

40. It was my fault for thinking you might care

pairing: jj maybank x reader

warnings: angsty oops, mentions of sex ig 

word count: 836

You were a smart girl, you should have been smarter than this. Casually hooking up with the boy you’d had a huge crush on since you were fourteen was never going to have a happy ending. Not when that boy was serial ladykiller JJ Maybank who had never had a relationship last longer than a couple weeks. You’d rolled your eyes and pushed him when he started the arrangement with the cliche of every single tacky romantic comedy ever - ‘don’t fall in love with me’. At the time your little crush was at the back of your mind, and you were ruled by the thought of his hands and lips on yours.

Despite your best efforts, however, you’d fallen and you’d fallen hard. You knew the best thing you could do for yourself was break off your arrangement but that was much easier said than done. Every time you had gathered the willpower to finally end things and give yourself peace of mind, he smashed through your resolve with a cheesy line or a breathless moan or a carefully placed kiss. 

Sometimes you let yourself read a little too much into his words and actions. Let yourself think the small praises he would utter when he was deep inside of you meant more than just a throwaway line uttered during sex. The way his eyes would look for your frame from across the boneyard. How he would invite you to hang out with the pogues and treat you more like a girlfriend than just some girl he hooked up with in the dark. 

And sometimes he leant into that, you were certain. There’s no way the blond didn’t know your feelings at this point. Despite your attempts to portray the opposite, you were certain your lovesick feelings were written all over your face, particularly in non-intimate moments. 

You had spent the day on the HMS Pogue with JJ and his friends, enjoying the company of everyone. At some point you stopped having as much fun as you did when you had all first set out. You got like that sometimes, needing a little bit of low-energy alone time to recharge after being in a group of extroverts. 

“Yeah, I’m just gonna head home. Just feelin’ a lil overwhelmed,” you told him, shrugging a little. Some part of you thought maybe he would offer to go with you, offer to make you feel better with words or.... not words. But that part of you was about to be disappointed.

“Okay... I’ll see you later, I guess,” he stated, shoving his hands in his pockets. You rolled your eyes at his apathy. JJ was very hot and cold, sometimes he would bare his soul to you at 3 am, lying naked by your side. Sometimes he would lie with you, limbs intertwined, and let you tell him about how scared you were for the future. Other times even the briefest mention of an emotion that wasn’t lust sent him running. Evidently tonight was the latter. “What? I’m not your boyfriend.” he snarked, catching your attitude.

A little piece of you cracked at the confirmation that this was little more than physical for him. “Oh well, excuse me,” you angrily snapped, “It was my fault for thinking you might care.“ And you had. Thought he might care, that is. If the deep conversations or lingering glances or incomprehensible silences meant anything. 

“I told you not to fall in love with me,” he told you, and you swore you saw the back of your head with how far back your eyes rolled in annoyance.

“That’s so fucking cliche, and I’m not asking you to fucking marry me, I’m just asking for a little support. There is a friends in friends with benefits you dick.”

“No, you’re looking to talk about your feelings with me and you want me to act like your boyfriend, but I’m not your boyfriend.” He reiterated. 

You couldn’t contain the annoyed sigh that left your lips as you replied, “then don’t act like you are. Jesus, JJ you are so confusing sometimes!” You regretted the words as they were leaving your lips but it was like you were outside of your body watching another girl wearing your face shove her foot in her mouth with every word.

“Then let me be perfectly clear, if I wasn’t before. I’m not your boyfriend and I’m not ever going to be your boyfriend.” The words shouldn’t have shocked you like they did. They shouldn’t have shattered your already fragile heart. You were a smart girl, you should have been smarter than this. But his words and his actions were often contradictory, and you had allowed yourself to hope.

“Fuck you,” you spit back, unable to think of anything else, “You led me on and that was really shitty of you.” Heart twisting as he didn’t deny it, you left him behind and didn’t dare look back lest you realize he didn’t look back either.

everything tag list: 

@velyssaraptor @danicarosaline @copper-boom @x-lulu @prejudic3 @ohfreyfrey @downbytheouterbanks @ilovejjmaybank @bricksatanakinswindow @jellyfishbeansontoast

[matthewtkachuk]

Celebratory hug with JJ after winning beer pong or something?? 🥺 just you two kicking ass and showing off

you got it babe i remember you had said once that you weren’t really into drinking so i made the reader drink water lol idk why but i’m really into friends to lovers these days and this made me really miss house parties 😔

16. Celebratory hug

pairing: jj maybank x reader

warnings: drinkin (please drink responsibly folks, i do not encourage binge drinking!!)

word count: 624

You were often underestimated when playing beer pong, especially when you teamed up with Kie who genuinely couldn’t sink a ball if her life depended on it. Truthfully, you were pretty sure she missed on purpose so she could down her drinks, and yours too since you weren’t much of a drinker. So, when a couple of arrogant tourons challenged the two of you to a game, you weren’t really sure it would be worth it. You were good, but you weren’t good enough to carry a partner who was more concerned with drinking what was in the cups than landing the tiny ping pong ball in them. The last thing you needed was some cocky tourists getting even bigger egos at your expense. 

You were about to tell them ‘thanks, but no thanks,” when a familiar muscled arm wrapped around your shoulder. Looking up into the eyes of your best friend, you lost your train of thought as your eyes briefly flickered to his chapped lips. He inclined his head towards the other end of the long table where the two tourons still stood, and you quickly came back into consciousness and grinned at him, before turning to them and confidently sassing, “you’re on.” 

JJ was more than a few beers in, and it showed in the way he lightly swayed as he stood. The two tourons took one look at you and one look at your inebriated friend and smirked, setting up the ten cups into their initial position. JJ gave you the ball to take the initial shot, and maintaining eye contact with the dark haired touron, you sank your ball while his missed just wide of the first cup, earning you the right to go first. Smirking, you handed JJ the ball that had missed and caught the ball you had sunk. Body swaying to the distant sound of the music playing on someone’s speaker, you took aim, not even bothering to see that it had met its mark, throwing a smirk at JJ.

The game progressed very quickly, you and JJ sinking every shot. You started showing off a little, hoping to impress the blond by your side, successfully bouncing one shot off the table into a cup, and even landing one backwards with your eyes closed. When the tourons managed to land their balls in the right cup, you were there every time ready to blow on the spinning ball to send it back up and out of play. 

When they were down to two cups, and you still had seven, you shouted, “Reformation!”, motioning with your hands to line them up one in front of the other. Your opponents earlier cocky grins were replaced by dumbfounded looks as you and JJ sunk both cups in sync, before turning to each other and high five-ing with both hands. 

“There’s still the redemption shot,” the touron you had faced off to start the game with said, a lot less confidence in his voice. You just shrugged and got down low, eye level with the cups as you prepared to blow for your life. Predictably, neither boy could land it, and when the second one went comically wide, you turned to JJ with an excited expression, cheering as you flung yourself at him. He was on the same wavelength as he laughed and caught you, hands gripping your waist. Without really thinking about it, he ducked his head down and captured your lips with his. You didn’t know if the elation was a result of destroying your opponents in beer pong, or the fact that your best friend’s lips were finally on your own, but you leant into the kiss, hands finding purchase in the soft hairs of his nape. 

everything tag list: 

@velyssaraptor @danicarosaline @copper-boom @x-lulu @prejudic3 @ohfreyfrey @downbytheouterbanks @ilovejjmaybank @bricksatanakinswindow @jellyfishbeansontoast

[matthewtkachuk]

okay you tackle angst so well so - “how heartbreaking.” with rafe please!

 oh my god lowkey the highest compliment ever 🥺 also because anons don’t know how to act this is NOT canon rafe but it’s also not soft rafe 

14. “How heartbreaking.”

pairing: rafe cameron x reader

warnings: it’s angst... do i even need to warn abt this anymore or is it expected from me, drug/alcohol usage, toxic relationship, emotional abuse

word count: 892 oops

Realistically, you always knew loving Rafe Cameron would break your heart. Between the recovering cocaine addiction, the association with multiple drug dealers, and the myriad of issues spurned on by his daddy issues, Rafe wasn’t easy to love. He was rash and he was impetuous and sometimes he was downright mean. He could yell and scream like nobody else, his fists could punch walls and doors. He would never hit you directly, but the holes in the walls screamed that he could. But you had loved him and you thought you could fix him and you were worried to leave him. On more than one occasion, he had made you feel like you were the only reason he stayed clean and sober. You were losing parts of yourself to keep him together.

It was that mean streak that finally had you wanting out, for good this time. Being constantly harassed, interrogated and insulted was exhausting. It came to a head one night when you returned to your apartment after a night out with your girls. You weren’t even drunk, having taken on the role of mom friend and the responsibility of staying sober to ensure everyone made it home. You had texted Rafe at midnight, telling him you would be home soon. Unfortunately like most good plans, your plan of getting everyone home safely and quickly had gone awry. You’d lost track of one of your more flighty friends, and later had to carry her into her house while your other friends waited in your car. 

It was near one in the morning when you finally unlocked the door, wanting nothing more than to slip into bed beside Rafe and fall into his embrace. You assumed he would have gone to bed at least half an hour ago, but there he was, sitting in the large chair in your living room. You took one look at the state of the living room, half empty whiskey bottle on the end table, credit card and suspicious little bag of white powder on the coffee table, and one look at his eyes and your suspicions are confirmed. 

“Jesus, Rafe,” you whimper, disappointment painting your features and you know you’re in for a confrontation. “Where did you even get any of this?” 

He just shrugs, but you know he’s still got at least two dealers numbers saved in his phone. Deflecting, he crosses his arms and gives you a disdainful look, “You’re late. How was cheating on me? Bet you weren’t even out with your friends.”

“I am so tired of defending myself, if you really believe that I don’t think we have anything to talk about.” You shake your head, exhaustion seeping into your bones as you begin to head toward your bedroom.

“Don’t walk away from me,” he growls, finally standing. You can’t help but cower as his larger frame stands over you. Sober Rafe would hate that, but this version of your boyfriend doesn’t seem to care. Maybe even enjoys the fact that you’re scared.

“God, Rafe I can’t do this anymore.” The words just slip out, and you see the look of concern cross his face 

The ‘what’ that leaves his lips is said so quietly, you almost don’t hear it. 

“I can’t do this anymore,” you repeat, this time voice a little stronger, “you treat me like you hate me? All I do is love and support you and you’re constantly hurting me.”

“You can’t leave me, I love you.” If Rafe Cameron was the begging type, he would have been begging. On his knees, hands clasped in a praying-like manner, head bowed. But he wasn’t, and maybe that was worse than the thought of him pleading for you to stay.

“But you don’t love yourself, and I don’t have enough love to do it for you.” 

“What am I supposed to do without you, huh?” he asked, and you could feel the shift in his energy from desperate to angry in the time it took you to count to five. “I need you, I can’t do this without you.”

“How heartbreaking,” you tell him drily, trying to mask the fact that it was true. Your heart was breaking, or maybe that wasn’t a strong enough metaphor. Your heart was slowly shattering into a million little pieces, being crushed finely into dust in his hands as he gripped it tightly. Truthfully, your heart hadn’t been whole in a long time. Each accusation, each insult chipping away at it slowly over time until all that remained was a heavily cracked shell. 

He follows you into the bedroom as you hastily pack your suitcase with as much of your stuff as you can. You prioritize items that have significance to you, like the photo of you and your family and the necklace your parents gave you at your high school graduation, knowing there’s a good chance anything left behind won’t survive the night with Rafe’s volatility. 

He stares at you silently as you pack, jaw clenched so tightly it looks painful. He doesn’t say a word until you’re hesitating at the front door, hand hovering over the doorknob. 

“If you leave now, don’t bother coming back,” he warns, voice dangerously low. Closing your eyes tightly for a moment to keep the tears from falling, you turn the doorknob and walk into the night.

everything tag list @velyssaraptor @danicarosaline @copper-boom @x-lulu @prejudic3 @ohfreyfrey @downbytheouterbanks @ilovejjmaybank @bricksatanakinswindow @jellyfishbeansontoast

[matthewtkachuk]

#51 off of the dialogue prompts with kie or pope please

nice and angsty i love it, i apologize in advance for what i’ve done again didn’t proofread sry

51. Please tell me you’re sorry, I need to hear you say it

pairing: pope heyward x kook!reader

warnings: she angsty

word count: 500

Screaming and crying and hurtling accusations were not commonplace in your relationship with Pope. Up until now, you would actually categorize the relationship as damn near perfect. Maybe that should have been a warning sign, maybe it was a little too perfect. Maybe you should have seen the signs coming from a mile away. 

You weren’t supposed to overhear them. You weren’t even supposed to be on this side of the island. You were supposed to be at the Island club, sipping mimosas with your girls from the Kook Academy, not standing in John B’s backyard listening on as your boyfriend defensively told his friends that he would never be serious about a kook princess, that he could never seriously fall in love with a stuck-up kook. He let his friends laugh and insult you and your side of the island, as your heart broke into tiny little pieces.

Tears welled in your eyes, and you bit back a sob, realizing your months with Pope hadn’t meant as much to him as they had to you. It was the little whimper that escaped you that had alerted JJ to your presence. He muttered a quiet ‘oh shit,’ and pointed you out to Pope whose face immediately fell when he spotted you. You back-pedalled a few steps, before turning and jogging back to your car. Pope easily caught up to you as you reached for the driver side door, “y/n, I-”

“Please tell me you’re sorry, I need to hear you say it,” you begged, hot tears rolling down your face in a mixture of humiliation and devastation. His silence said everything his mouth would not, so you nodded your head a few times, mouth twisted in a grimace. “Well, you don’t have to worry about slumming it with a kook who you could never possibly love, we’re done.”

“Wait, y/n, stop!” He tried to grab your arm but you shook him off angrily. “Let me - Let me explain!”

“I think you’ve said more than enough,” you told him shakily, frustratedly wiping at the tears that wouldn’t stop falling. “You know, I loved you. Stupid me, huh?” 

“Stop, that’s not fair, I-” he desperately tries to explain, he didn’t mean what he said, but he had to say something to his friends. You’re not having any of it.

“What’s not fair is me falling for you, and defending you to all my friends and family at the risk of many of my own personal relationships. And not only will you not defend me to your friends, you add on to it yourself! I showed you every part of me, but it’s clear all you ever saw was a stupid kook.” You angrily shoved him when he reached for you again. “You couldn’t even say you were sorry.” You shake your head and get in your car, leaving behind a broken hearted Pope, who realizes he’s made a huge mistake, without even a second glance back at him.

part two here 👀

[matthewtkachuk]

500 follower blurb night??? 🥺

if anyone needs me i’ll be quietly sobbing happy tears into my pillow

i just wanna thank y’all so much for willingly choosing to follow me and support me and, especially, befriend me?? i can’t believe there are 500 of you now, i just hit 400 at the beginning of august??

i have made the most amazing friends, found the most supportive people and i am incredibly grateful i decided to take the plunge and watch obx and dive back into writing again

the last celebration took a lot out of me, so i thought it would be fun to try a ✨blurb night✨ (realistically it’ll be a blurb couple of days assuming it doesn’t flop, my masters is finishing up this week with a mock three day designation exam)

rules: there are no rules, just kidding, just send me a prompt (specify which list and which #) from the following lists (or make up your own if u want) and an obx character

hug prompts

love prompts

angst prompts (you know me, i can’t resist angst)

dialogue prompts

tagging some sweet mutuals and lovely people who i legit cant believe follow me back so that this doesn’t flop (no pressure tho babes!!):

@ohfreyfrey @bricksatanakinswindow @jellyfishbeansontoast @rudyypankow @danicarosaline @notphilosopherstudentblog @anxietyandtacos @mermaidssonshipss @thevortexclubposse @comphersjost @infinitewalker @drewsephsmiles@rudysrings @softstarkey @https-luna @stargazingstarkey @previouslyforgotten @northcarolinanative @drewstarkey @kiarascarreras @girlsru1eboysdroo1 @moldisgoodforyou @heliopvth @jjmayybank @goldenhanna @downbytheouterbanks @gforgenevieve @tomfreakinghollandneedsaoscar @livinglikepogues @scandalousfemale @uwubonebabie @yourlocalauthor @void-maybank @jjmbanks @starlightstarkey @outerbankslut @outrebanx @anonymous0writer @love-chx @outrbanks @wtfstarkey @drewswannabegirl @jiaraendgame @queenk00k @lokiqueenofasgard @lefthandwritings @ptersparkers @kikifromtheblock @poguesofthebau @overly-b @shawnssongs @jjmaybcnks @starkeymarkey @popcsheyward @heywards @ilovejjmaybank @jjtheangel @rudths @obx-saltlife @thatsme-johnbookerroutledge​ @poguestyleskye​ @midnightmagicmusings @thelocalpogue @sortagaysortahigh @rudys-pankow @socialwriter @sunflowerbecca @sunnypogue @sguymon21 @outerbongs   (if i forgot anyone im sry i love you 🥺)

and tagging my everything taglist, i love and appreciate yall so much 🥺

@velyssaraptor @copper-boom @x-lulu @prejudic3 

[matthewtkachuk]

Congrats on 500!! Could you write something with Pope with the love prompt of your choice! ((:

thank you love!!! sorry these are taking forever to do, I didn’t expect it to blow up the way it did!

16) “It’s okay.  I couldn’t sleep anyway.”

pairing: pope heyward x reader

warnings: fluff, mention of insomnia 

word count: 445

You’re tossing and turning in bed, a regular occurrence for you with your intermittent insomnia. With the stress of your job lately, it’s been worse than ever before. Careful to not disturb the sleeping boy beside you, you slip out from underneath the comforter and Pope’s comforting arm to quietly pad through the room and into the kitchen. You put the kettle on the stove, deciding to try brewing a cup of tea to see if that will help lull you into at least a light sleep. You remember to flip the whistle lid up so that when the water is ready, the kettle won’t whistle and alert him.

Pope wakes up when he realizes his arm isn’t holding anything but the space in bed where your body once lay. Feeling the you-shaped indentation in the sheets, he finds it to be still warm, indicating that you haven’t been out of bed long. Ignoring the way sleep calls to him, he pulls himself out of bed and heads into the direction he’s certain you’ve taken, spotting you leaning against the counter as you contemplate which tea to drink. “Hey,” he says softly, voice heavy with sleep. 

You’re so lost in your thoughts you don’t even hear him approach, and so you jump when he speaks. He smiles softly at you with a mumbled ‘sorry’, you move to reach for him when you recognize the loud rolling boil of the kettle. You turn towards the kettle, and Pope watches you work. Placing a chamomile tea bag in your favourite large mug, you then pour the water over. Turning to Pope, you catch a glimpse of the time on the stove and grimace, “I’m sorry I woke you up,” you tell him guiltily.

“It’s okay. I couldn’t sleep anyway,” he replies, breaking the last syllable to try (and fail) to stifle a yawn. You give him a look that you know he’s lying, but you don’t press it further. He looks about ready to fall asleep on his feet, so you push him towards the living room, intent on cuddling him until your tea has steeped for an appropriate amount of time. He sits down on the reclining chair, and you climb into his lap, burying your face in his neck as his hands come to rest on your waist. One of his hands plays with your hair and before you know it, your eyes are closing involuntarily. 

The two of you wake up the next morning, still entangled on the recliner with a few more aches and pains than you went to sleep with, cold over-steeped tea on the cupboard, and smiles on your faces regardless.

forever tag list: @velyssaraptor @danicarosaline @copper-boom @x-lulu @prejudic3 @ohfreyfrey @downbytheouterbanks @ilovejjmaybank @bricksatanakinswindow @jellyfishbeansontoast @sunwardsss @im-a-stranger-thing 

[matthewtkachuk]

89 & 90 from the love prompt with Topper

you got it! gonna try and repair the hearts i broke with the last one oop. i didn’t proofread this sry in advance

89. “I noticed.” 90. “You can tell me anything.”

pairing: topper thornton x reader

warnings: fluffffff

word count: 730

It had been a long week. Turns out juggling a part time job with full time undergraduate studies is not easy, especially during finals. Having written your intermediate stats final at 9 am, followed by a long shift at the local diner across from campus where you had worked short staffed because someone had flaked on her shift again, you wanted nothing more than to crawl into bed and sleep for fifteen hours.

Unluckily for you, your roommate Topper had different plans. The second you had entered the apartment, you had been assaulted by the bright light of the hallway and the sight of Topper cheerfully greeting you, grabbing you by the hand to lead you into the living room where Rapunzel was queued up on the large tv, and two cartons of ben and jerry’s sat on the coffee table. Your frown lessened when you realized one was your favourite flavour. You looked up at him questioningly, exhaustion and surprise causing your left eye to water a little.

“What’s all this?” you asked softly.

“I noticed you usually put on a disney movie when you’re stressed, and I picked up ben and jerry’s from the store earlier,” he told you, “I figured you would need it after today.”

“No one has ever paid that much attention to me,” you admit quietly. It’s true, you’ve never really had a strong friend group. You had friends, sure, but you were never the centre of a friend group. You existed on the fringes of most friendship circles, never truly finding yourself belonging to any. Even the people you had grown up with hadn’t really considered you ‘one of them’. That was how you had ended up befriending Topper in the first place and then moving in together when you both got accepted to Duke.

You had been at a boneyard party, offhandedly invited by Kiara who you would consider a friend, but you weren’t really close. It was like that with all the pogues, y’all were friendly but it’s not like you were crashing on John B’s couch or anything. 

Topper had seen you looking melancholy, sitting at the edge of the party, red solo cup in hand and decided to talk to you. At first, you had been wary. Despite not being one of the group, you were still a pogue and keenly aware of the disdain most kooks had for your kind. He had quickly proved you wrong, kind and caring and always striking up a conversation when you were left alone at parties. The casual conversations at parties turned into hanging out beyond the boneyard and a real friendship flourished.

When you and Topper had both gotten into Duke, it was a quick and easy decision to move into the apartment his parents were paying for. They liked you well enough, for a pogue, and only charged you half of what market rent would be. 

“Are you still deep in your head, or can we watch the movie?” Topper teased you, sitting on the loveseat and motioning for you to join him. You rolled your eyes and sat beside him, leaning on his body heat slightly and let the exhaustion take over as you slouched your shoulders. You reached for your ice cream and mumbled a thanks, causing Topper to grin.

Tangled was one of your favourites, low key you thought Flynn Ryder was cute and the lanterns always made your heart happy. You played with the ends of your hair as you happily watched and sang along quietly when you felt eyes on you. Turning to Topper, he was staring at you, his intense gaze causing your heart to stutter in your chest. 

“What?” You asked self-consciously, pulling your legs up to wrap your arms around them. He didn’t answer you right away, eyes searching yours for what, you didn’t know. “You can tell me anything, Top, you know that.” 

“I’m think I’m falling in love with you,” he admits after a beat. Your mouth falls open in shock, and Topper mistakes your reaction for rejection, starting to pull away from you. Unable to think of any other way to show him how you feel, you throw a leg over his lap to straddle him and pull his lips to yours. Pulling back to breathe, you rest your forehead against his and mumble against his lips, “I think I am too.”

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[matthewtkachuk]

Hey bb, could you do comfort hug from the hug list with Popey 🥺

this is me trying 2 fix ur heart after breaking it so many times. listening to “above all else, be kind” by ajimal while reading makes this hit different

4. comfort hug

pairing: pope heyward x reader

warnings: nah can’t hurt my bb izzy like that

word count: 507

Sometimes it’s just tough. Life piles up on you, things don’t work out, plans you were really looking forward to get cancelled. You have a rough day at work, or school, or at home. You get into a fight with the people you love. Sometimes it rains when you were supposed to spend the day on the beach, sometimes an unprecedented heat wave has you stuck in the house, chained to the A/C. Sometimes you read something sad and it breaks your heart. Regardless of the cause, there are times when you just need comfort, need to feel completely wrapped up in someone’s arms, safe.

For you, Pope is that someone.

There is no safer place than tucked in Pope’s arms, head tucked into the crook of his neck as his hands soothingly rub your back. You’re certain there’s no heartbreak that can’t be cured in his embrace. His presence is so soft and strong, you can’t help but feel secure in his arms. When you need the distraction, he’ll regale you with the most random of facts, did you know crabs have been known to hitch a ride on jellyfish? When the source of your pain is your own mind, when you’re really feeling down, he’ll whisper soft affirmations in your ear. I love you, you’re amazing, you’re so smart and resourceful, there’s not another like you in the entire world. He’ll kiss the top of your head, your forehead, your temple. Anything to make his baby feel better.

He loves to support you like this. It breaks his heart, sure, when you require it from him. If he had his way you would never experience the ache of sadness again. He would do anything in his power to ensure you only ever smiled. He would walk to the ends of the earth, fight any battle, make any trade or concession on your behalf. But when you need comfort? When you need him? He thinks it might be his sole purpose on earth, to be the grounding force you need to feel safe. There’s no greater cause, no higher calling than being the one you turn to.

His arms are wrapped tightly around you and you cling to him in return, chest shaking with soft sobs. He feels your tears on his neck, and the wetness pools on his shirt, but he doesn’t mind. 

“Do you want to talk about it?” He murmurs quietly in your ear, pressing a soft kiss to the hollow of it. You shake your head, sucking in a heavy breath. He smooths a hand against your hair before resting his chin on the top of your head. He doesn’t pry, never pries. He waits, patiently, as long as it takes. He knows you’ll tell him when you’re ready, will let him help you with whatever is bothering you. But, first you need to wallow in it a little. 

Closing your eyes, you thank God, or whatever higher power there may be, that fate brought this strong, comforting presence into your life.

everything tag list: @velyssaraptor @danicarosaline @copper-boom @x-lulu @prejudic3 @ohfreyfrey @downbytheouterbanks @ilovejjmaybank @bricksatanakinswindow @jellyfishbeansontoast

[matthewtkachuk]

#40 from the love prompts with Pope thanks I love you you deserve 500,000 more

ahhhh i love you so much 🥺

side note: do the kids even burn mixtapes anymore? let me and @anxietyandtacos know if u do, i listened to jack’s mannequin heavily while writing this!

40. “I made this for you.”

pairing: pope heyward x reader

warnings: its a lil sad, pope leaving for college

word count: 725

To say you were sad would be an understatement. After a perfect last summer together, Pope was heading off to college on the other side of the country, and you were stuck in the OBX finishing up your last year of high school. Though the summer had been full of boat days and keggers and as many quiet moments as the two of you could carve out with each other, you couldn’t help but feel the weight of his upcoming departure hanging over your heads the whole time. And now that departure was right on your doorstep. 

You were lying beside Pope on his bed, limbs haphazardly intertwined and your head resting on his chest. It was his last night in the OBX, tomorrow he would be heading to the west coast in his car and leaving you behind. You were trying not to think about it, attempting to focus on the steady beating of his heart and the way his hand felt, rubbing soothing circles on your back. As if sensing the inner turmoil going on in your brain, his hand left your back to tilt your chin up, causing you to look into his eyes. “You okay?” he asked quietly. All you could do was shrug, tears carefully gathering in your eyes, dangerously close to falling.

“Don’t want you to go,” you admitted into his chest, quietly.

“Can I be honest with you?” he whispered back and you nodded, “I don’t want to go either.” 

Tightening your hold on him, a part of you wanted to ask him to stay. But you knew that wasn’t fair of you, knew he was meant to get out of the OBX and make something of himself and you would never keep him from that. Besides it was just eight months, and then you would be off to college too, hopefully somewhere a little closer to him. And he had promised to come home for Christmas and spring break, so it’s not like you wouldn’t see him at all. You had just never been apart for more than a couple weeks, and you were hoping your relationship would last long-distance.

Trying to push your sad feelings down and enjoy one last night with Pope, you tilted your head up and kissed him, getting lost in him.

Far too early the next morning you stood by quietly as the pogues surrounded Pope. John B was enthusiastically hugging Pope, Kie was encouraging him, and JJ was giving him some truly terrible advice about putting the ‘party scene’ ahead of his academics. You couldn’t find it in your heart to put on a brave face, trying not to cry was taking up most of your energy. 

Throwing your arms around him, you held him tightly to you, burying your head in his chest and breathing in his smell. You focused on the way his arms felt around you, trying to memorize the feeling. Reluctantly you pulled away, pressing your lips to his multiple times as you did so. “Will you call me on the drive?” you asked him. His returning grin told you he would. 

“I love you,” he told you, kissing you again. Your lip wobbled as you repeated the phrase back to him. “I better get going,” the regret was written all over his face, but it was a long drive ahead of him. As he got into his car, you remembered the item in your backpack.

“Wait!” You called, running to the driver door. Pope looked at you confusedly as he rolled down the window. You pressed your lips to his again, wanting to feel his lips against yours another time. “I made this for you,” you shyly told him, pulling a burnt mix tape out of your bag with the words “Y/N LOVES POPE” written in big block letters in sharpie. 

“What is it?” He asked, rather dumbly in your opinion for some hot shot headed off to college.

You giggled nervously, “It’s a mixtape genius. It has our song and every song that makes me think of you and us burnt on it. You better appreciate it, I had to use the library computers to burn it and Mrs. Jenkins got really mad at me for it.” He laughed, knowing you were terrified of the mean, old librarian. “You can listen to it when you miss me.” 

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everything taglist bc i need validation at all times: @velyssaraptor @danicarosaline @copper-boom @x-lulu @prejudic3 @ohfreyfrey @downbytheouterbanks @ilovejjmaybank @bricksatanakinswindow @jellyfishbeansontoast

[matthewtkachuk]

Hi bubs!!! Can you do sleepy hug with Pope??

Absolutely babe!! hope you like!

2. Sleepy hug

pairing: pope heyward x reader

warnings: none, pure fluff and soft bb pope

word count: 291

It had been a long, active day, hours spent alternating between lounging on the beach and messing around in the water with your friends and boyfriend. Despite wearing sunscreen and getting Pope to reapply it at least once, you had managed to get a little bit of a sunburn and, judging from your headache and how hot your face felt, you were a little sun sick. You had been lounging in a lawn chair, slowly drifting in and out of conversations and consciousness as everyone talked around you. After the third or fourth time of your head bobbing and then abruptly snapping back up into consciousness, you’d had enough. 

Slowly getting up from your chair and stretching out your arms until you heard a few satisfying cracks, your eyes sought out your boyfriend who was standing by the fire, laughing with JJ. Smiling sleepily, you made your way over to the two of them and slipped your arms around Pope’s waist and buried your face in his neck. Your eyes slipped shut and you fell into his embrace as his own arms wrapped around you. 

“Sleepy, bub?” he asked you, one hand leaving your waist to smooth down your hair. You tightened your grip and nodded, causing him to smile. “Okay, come on, let’s go to bed.” He tried to extricate himself from your grasp, but you held on tightly, unwilling to let go. Laughing, he guided your linked bodies up the stairs into the Chateau, and onto the pull out couch all without letting go of your sleepy embrace. Smiling with satisfaction, you nestled further into his neck and mumbled a quiet ‘i love you,’ falling into a deep sleep before he even had the chance to say it back.

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[matthewtkachuk]

CONGRATS GIRL! 17, 18, and 40 from Angst with Top?

Thank you bb!!! Oof this is ANGSTy, sry not sry this is my niche spot! special s/o to my bb @thevortexclubposse for casting me as the song “kiss me goodbye” by deathbyromy which i listened to twenty times in a row while writing this 

17. “I can’t sleep.” 18. “I can’t breathe.” 40. “Do you think I wanted this?”

pairing: topper thornton x reader

warnings: cheating, swearing

word count: 1k oops

Falling in love with Topper was easy. He had pursued you, treated you like gold, and made you feel like you were the only person in the room with his singular focus. He called you beautiful and pulled out your chair at dinner and always opened your car door. Flowers and jewelry and sweet and spontaneous dates watching the stars. You had fallen for him quickly and you had fallen hard.

Losing him was harder. He’d pulled away from you, didn’t kiss you with the same intensity as before, made excuses when you tried to initiate intimacy. At first you thought it was the stress of school, chalked it up to Topper trying to meet the doctor’s unrealistically high expectations. But his inattentiveness got even worse when you both returned to the outer banks for the summer. It didn’t take long to put two and two together to come to the conclusion that he was fucking Sarah Cameron behind your back. 

When you found out, the argument was messy. You had screamed and cried and he had frustratingly just stood there and let it happen. At the beginning of your relationship, his friendship with Sarah had made you feel insecure, but he had held your delicate hands in his own and promised she was the past and you were his future. You had never wanted to be the psycho girlfriend, so you’d let it go. But then it had all imploded in your face, and you had found yourself wondering how long it had happened behind your back. If he was thinking of her every time you kissed, every time you made love. If every time he told you he loved you, if he imagined he was saying it to her instead.

You’d withdrawn from everyone that entire summer, went into a self-imposed exile lest you accidentally come across them together. All your friends were their friends too. You’d returned to campus a week earlier than necessary if only to get away from their ghosts. You’d thrown yourself into your coursework and rejected any and all male attention for the entirety of the fall semester. The first day of the winter semester, you’d been paired up with an upperclassman named Aaron in your biochem lab and though you hadn’t been actively looking, you’d fallen in love with him over the course of the semester. He had been so different from Topper, kind and loving and no ex-girlfriend that he couldn’t let go of. Somehow you’d managed to avoid Topper almost entirely; you avoided any and all frat parties on campus and avoided the coffeeshop that he’d taken you to several times when you were together. To your own smug satisfaction, the few times you had seen him, he hadn’t looked himself. Sure, he was still as handsome as ever, but he didn’t look happy.

The semester quickly came and went, and before you knew it you were several months into a relationship with Aaron and it was summer. You’d both spent the first two weeks of summer with Aaron’s parents in Upstate New York, and now you were showing him where you grew up. Of course, no trip to the OBX is complete without at least one boneyard kegger. Holding Aaron’s hand, you introduced him to the people you grew up with, pointedly ignoring Sarah Cameron who had apparently moved on to John B and Topper who predictably stood with Rafe and Kelce. It was a good night, you had fun dancing with the girls you graduated with and a little more fun dancing with Aaron, back pressed to his chest firmly.

It was all going a little too good, until you needed a refill and decided you were capable of walking to the keg alone. Topper had obviously been waiting for his chance. “y/n, can we talk?” he asked, cornering you by the keg.

“Topper,” you muttered, eyes on your sandals and not the face of the boy who broke your heart. It bothers him that you won’t even look at him.

“Fuck, y/n, I fucked up! I know that, I get that. I can’t sleep, hell I can’t breathe without you.” He runs a hand through his hair, frustrated. You notice the red rim around his eyes, and deduce he’s drunk and likely high. 

“You’re drunk, Top,” you scoff, moving to push past him, but he grabs your wrist.

“Maybe, but I love you,” he tells you, and you roll your eyes so hard it hurts. 

“Oh yeah, you sure loved me while you were putting your dick in Sarah Cameron,” you state sarcastically, and he winces. 

“Well you sure loved me when you moved on so quickly,” he spits back, “and now you’re parading him around in front of everyone.” 

“Do you think I wanted this?” You yell at him, eyes watering as you try not to give him the satisfaction of making you cry. “I wanted you! I loved you! And you broke my heart.”

He falters at your words, “Listen baby if you wanted to make me jealous, it worked. 

“Unbelievable,” you scoff, “believe it or not, the world doesn’t fucking revolve around you, asshole. I love Aaron, he treats me right and he would never cheat on me.” Part of you is defending Aaron, but a larger part of you is trying to hurt him, to make him feel even an ounce of what he made you feel.

He opens his mouth to speak again, but you cut him off, “Don’t. There’s literally nothing you could say to me right now that would convince me to get back together with you. Not only did that ship sail, you burnt it to the ground.” Stepping away from him you fill your cup at the keg, turning to him. “Goodbye Topper,” you tell him firmly and return to Aaron’s side. 

Sensing you’re upset, Aaron finishes off your beer and drives you home. As you lay beside him on your childhood bed with his arm around your waist, a few tears slip out silently as you think about how, despite everything, you still love Topper.

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[matthewtkachuk]

anyway thank y’all for the requests and the love 🥺🥺🥺 gonna head to bed now cause it’s after midnight and i have a mock day 1 exam in the morning (4 hours rip). i’ll get back at the blurbs tomorrow afternoon after the exam!

come join my 500 follower blurb night!

[matthewtkachuk]

CONGRATS ON 500!!!!!!! 💗💗

ahhh thank you so much!!!!! 🥺

[matthewtkachuk]

#40 off of angst with anyone you want🤷‍♀️

I did a blurb with #40 here!