#it takes lots of practice to play actively and feel OKAY playing actively most of all

[heybiji]

In reference to the last ask you posted! Do you mind going over your tips on role-playing as that active-type character and/or digging up the thread of conversation it seems the original asker was referring to? I'm so interested in your experience role-playing for both prep in possibly joining a game someday and also bc it sounds like such good character creation and general writing advice!!!! I tried checking you blog but didnt turn up anything that touched pn it more (No worries if not though!)

Sorry for this late response!

My advice is make characters that create opportunities for story.

Reacting to a story is fun! Reacting to a character is fun! But if you're always reacting then you're creating opportunity for other characters to react, so sometimes you gotta Act to let the other characters and the story React.

To do this, characters should all want something. And not something vague (like "to be happy"), it should be something more tangible, more specific, and everything else can stem from there. It'll guide your character naturally. It's their Motivation.

More under the cut (or skip to the end for more standard advice)

For example, my dnd character Dandelion wanted more than anything to go home. "Going home" meant a lot of things, yeah it means being happy, it means he wants to be with his family, it means he wants to be loved, it means he wants to feel safe, it means he wants to belong somewhere, but the tangible idea is "go home."

Because I knew this is what he wanted most of all it guided all his actions, and his actions for better or for worse all made sense because of it (and I made it clear that was what he wanted "on-screen" on multiple occasions). So anything that involved the idea of getting home would activate him, and he'd also deeply empathize with anyone and anything else away from home/away from family. Giving him one strong, clear motivation instantly made him an active participant in the story. This made him active with other characters too, any mention of home, any mention of family, any idea of not belonging, it drew him toward them.

(as a DM now this is also what I need more than anything, what's your hook? how can I tempt you? how can I make your character move forward? how can I make your character react? also characters that create opportunity for story take a LOT of work off the DM's shoulders in my experience, it shows you're engaged and it feels less like dragging a cat around on a leash haha like "are you enjoying this? do you want this? i don't know! please give me something!")

my more standard advice?

Be a good listener

Be present (in the moment)

Be curious

Be the biggest fan of all the characters

Put your story on-screen frequently, give people the opportunity to react to it and join in on it (this can be as simple as "my character's body language changes at the mention of 'home')

Create opportunities for the other characters to have their story on-screen (ask them questions! if you know what the character's buttons are and it makes sense in the moment, press them! listen to what they're saying, pay attention to what they're doing, and react to it)

Interact with the world! Interact with each other! And make these things mean something to your character!

Your character should make mistakes. Mistakes create opportunity for everyone.

If there's a genre, or theme, play toward them earnestly.

The more you RP, the better you'll get at it! It's a process and that's okay!

my little tip for knowing whether your character is Active vs Reactive: if the story were a musical, do they have an I Want song? do they have multiple moments for songs within the narrative? have they shared a duet with another character? do their songs change, evolve? songs happen for important moments in a musical so if you're not contributing to important moments, it may mean you're reacting more than you're acting. which is fine if you're playing a game solo and are granted access to the narrative by virtue of being the designated main character, but because RPing is collaborative storytelling, everyone should be doing their part!

[butterfluffy]

heard u were writing for haikyuu againnnn sooooo can i req ushiwaka as a bf?? maybe hcs or a short scenariooo

thankieeesss!! 🥰

·ू♡°.· { - as your bf ! }

content ! ౨ৎ — (HQ!!) | what would it be like having ushijima wakatoshi as your boyfriend? | hcs

pairing/s ! ౨ৎ — ushijima wakatoshi x gn!reader

tags/warnings ! ౨ৎ — none! just pure fluff and ushiwaka being the bestest boyfriend he could ever be. not proofread, so, typos and errors are present but i'm too lazy to deal w them... lowercase intended!

a/n ! ౨ৎ — AAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHH MY MANZ USHI. 😍🥰💗😍🫰😘😘😜🫰💗🤪 (i'm absolutely normal about him guys, i promise.) | requests are open!

USHIJIMA WAKATOSHI as your boyfriend!

okay, i won't lie nor try to defend ushijima. he's totally clueless about relationships and dating. 'cause girl, all that's in his head is... well, volleyball....

but of course, for the sake of the headcanons and our delusions, let's break down how he would be as a lover.

i feel like ushijima would be a shy (or awkward, rather) lover at first, hesitating with initiating PDA or affection in general.

will explode red and flush with his face hotter than himself when kissed all of a sudden. don't take him by surprise! it's bad for his heart that would definitely explode from beating too fast and loud in his chest!! he's shyyyyy!!!

just give him time. he'll warm up soon enough to when he's finally comfortable with holding your hands! ..without his own sweating and turning colder than ice from tension and awkwardness, that is.

“...sorry. are my hands cold and sweaty? you can just cling into my arm if it's uncomfortable to hold hands with me.”

and as said on the first bullet, he has zero clue about romancing, so, you'd be the one in charge of it; making the first move in everything.

but despite that, you can teach him how to romance! he's a rather fast learner, as long as you teach ushiwaka everything that he needs to do or what you want him to do for you.

in no time, you'll find yourself to be greeted by the man on your doorstep, holding a bouquet of flowers and a box of chocolates, and an invitation to go out on a date. ;)

“you mentioned that going out on dates every once in a while is important, no? so, let's go out? i also bought you flowers. your favorite.”

ushijma wakatoshi, though known to others as someone who is pretty stoic, is actually a real softie lover! w⁠(⁠°⁠ｏ⁠°⁠)⁠w

though outside, he's aloof, inside, however, is a different story. ushijima gets all clingy with you, not lasting a minute without you being in the same room as him.

“where were you? ...oh, in the bathroom? i see. i thought the monster in the closet that you claimed to see last night took you. kidding.”

LOOOOVESSS seeing you watch him play in his matches. he claims that whenever you watch him, he suddenly gets even more confident in his play. shows off a lot whenever you watch too.

“did you see me play? did you see my spike?” “yes toshi, you did great. very cool.” “*smug* i know i did great out there, because i knew you would watch.”

AN ABSOLUTE SUCKER FOR YOUR PRAISE AND VALIDATION!!!! spread the word, guys. ushijima wakatoshi loves getting praised. just love him. please. he'd melt. flushed cheeks and all that shii. though most of the time, he gets a little smug about it... don't worry, you can wipe it off with a kiss. he'll go redder than the blood that is rushing in his veins. 😜

he also becomes such a yapper as your relationship with him goes on. telling you about his day, volleyball practice, more volleyball stuff, training, etc.

he won't shut up, ong. 'cuz he's an awkward weirdo who may be on the, erm, spectrum and won't shut up about his hyperfixations. ehem, volleyball.

even though he's a yapper, he's also a listener! 10/10 would listen to you talk the whole day because he loves it when you yap to him. actively listens, reacting to your words here and there and giving his thoughts on them, yadayadayada. yapper x yapper, guys???

regarding the relationship, however, ushijima is a very private person. only a few knows that he's dating someone already, as he doesn't actively tell people that “oh, i'm in a relationship.”

i feel like he'd only reveal that he's in a relationship when asked... so, his mother found out that he's finally dating like, almost a year into the relationship. 'cuz he never mentioned it. and when his mother pointed that out, he retorted with, “you never asked?? 🫤🤨”

additionally, he strays away from social media. so, people really wouldn't know unless they ask. they'd just be shock to see a ring on ushiwaka's finger one day lmao.

^^no posts on his socmed accounts at all. faceless and full government name on his account and with less than 50 friends. only has social media accounts for the sole purpose of messaging and liking your posts.

still, he's updated with the latest trends and news, if you update him, that is. ushi will also participate in doing the trends with you. a lil' stiff though, but he's trying, yeah. no complaints at all.

��huh? i... i don't understand. what is ‘throw it back’ and how do i do it?”

ANYWAY, ushijima isn't really one to do endearments. be calls you by your name or a nickname he came up with. sometimes, you'll hear him call you “love” or “babe”.

there are also times that he gets insecure all of a sudden and begins to question if he's doing a good job on being your lover. would slightly panic if he feels that he's not doing enough. please assure him that he's doing amazing. 😞

during arguments, he talks things through. does not dare raise his voice. well—there are times that his voice gets a little loud, but he feels absolutely guilty and shitty after, so he apologizes.

and yes, he apologizes first, and even though you are the one at fault. doesn't like getting on a fight with you, so... 🤷‍♀️ but he does try to make you realize your mistake and hope to not start another argument while doing so. he'd get upset if that happens.

when upset, wakatoshi does not stay out of your sight, but, he's there. in the corner, sulking like a child in silence, looking at you with longing in his eyes, waiting for you to either woo him or for himself to not handle it anymore and apologize then cling to you once more.

doesn't say ‘i love you’ much. but he'll reciprocate each and every ‘i love you’ that you tell him! on rare occasions, he's the one saying ily first, especially when he feels that he's not saying the words much.

“baby?” “yes, wakatoshi?” “i love you.”

K BYE THAT'S ALL, I DON'T WANT THIS TO GO ON UNTIL 100 BULLETS, Y'ALL MIGHT SEE THROUGH HOW MUCH I AM IN LOVE WITH THIS MAN. 🏃‍♀️💨💨💨

© butterfluffy 2025

⠀⠀꒰🌷꒱₊ likes, comments, and/or reblogs are highly appreciated! i love reading comments and reblog tags/notes, hehe. (⁠ʃ⁠ƪ⁠＾⁠3⁠＾⁠）

[lovelyjj]

I feel like no matter what hobby/extracurricular activity JJ’s girlfriend was involved in, he’d be supportive. She’s on the school basketball team? He comes to every game and cheers her on. She paints? He gets one of her paintings framed and hangs it on his bedroom wall. She does karate and competes in local tournaments? He brags about her to his friends whether she wins or not. She’s acting in a school play? He’s in the front row on opening night and gives her flowers after the show. 

JJ was probably the most supportive person in your life. He was your number one fan. He always showed up for you no matter what it was, he was there. Having a boyfriend that supported you through even the worst days was amazing. He was such a blessing, you thanked god every day that he brought him to you.

And you had a lot of hobbies. For example you loved photography. You were always taking pictures and JJ just so happened to be your muse. You took solo pictures of JJ and pictures together. You took pictures of the view and landscape. JJ framed a few. He was always praising your work. “Wow that one’s a beauty baby,” JJ would say.

And you would love to dance. You’ve been a dancer ever since you were little. JJ loved to watch you in your element. He say front row at every dance competition. He cheered for you the loudest, “Yeah Y/N!” And when you’re on your way home wether you win or loose he always says, “You’re the best dancer i’ve ever seen, you won in my book.”

Another activity you would love to do is reading. You loved getting lost in a book. You loved fantasy and romance and everything under the sun. JJ would ask you to read to him and then fall asleep on your chest. He would also read to you because you would ask. You loved his voice it made you feel all warm inside.

Then you wanted to take up volleyball. You got yourself on a women’s team. It was really fun. JJ came and sat front row at every game and cheered the loudest for you. He even help you practice by tossing you the ball and helping you serve.

Yeah JJ was your biggest fan and number one supporter. He would do anything for you. You were his everything. You enjoyed your hobbies but doing your hobbies with the support of JJ made it even better. He had your heart and you were okay with him keeping it.

[flemingsfreckles]

Don’t Be Sad

Jessie Fleming x Reader

Preview: based off of this request. You take your kids to watch their mom play in the gold cup semifinal.

Warnings: upset Jessie, not really angst though

WC: 4.8k

A/N: okay, so the timeline here is all kinds of messed up in terms of how old Jessie is, the fic revolves around the US/CAN game but she obviously doesn’t have kids already so just go with it. It’s called fiction for a reason. This is also my first attempt at writing based off a request/an idea that my brain didn’t come up with.

“James, slow down please.” You hollered at your oldest child as he ran a couple of feet ahead of you. You watched as he stopped immediately in his tracks as if he had been frozen in place. The brown curls on his head bouncing slightly. Once you catch up to him you extend your hand out for him to hold.

“You have to be careful, you can’t be running ahead, there’s a lot of other people here.” You often took your kids to watch Jessie’s games, but most of the time they were not this busy. The stress of temporarily having to operate as a single mom with an almost 3 year old and 1 year old was building on you. Your wife would not be thrilled to learn you let one kid run off 20 minutes after arriving at the stadium.

“Sorry, just want to see Mama.” He said, reaching up to grab onto your hand.

“I know kiddo, we’re going to see Mama, but after her game remember, we can’t go talk with her before. Remember what I told you in the car?”

“Mama’s at work and is warm.” He tried his best to remember what you had told him about how Jessie wouldn’t be able to talk to you before the game. You had explained that she would have to warm up and be focused and ready for the game. Trying to explain that the field was her work and she wasn’t allowed to just come hang out.

“Mama!” Your one year old daughter, Nora, squealed, waving her hands in the air. You were holding her on your hip, not wanting her to get trampled in the busy stadium, also not fully trusting her minimal walking skills. She had recently started taking a few steps alone, and while holding the hand of you or Jessie, she could walk for a bit. A crowd of people was not the time to practice walking.

“Yes baby, Mama’s at work. We can see her after the game.”

Gripping your son’s hand tightly you continued to make your way to the friends and family box that the Canadian Team had set up for the Gold Cup Match. You didn’t love being in the box, it made you feel far away from the game. You liked being up close being able to see your wife playing just a couple meters away. Not being able to complain too much though, it was so much easier with the kids to be in the box, they were free to roam safely and could occupy themselves with other activities if they were too restless to sit and watch Jessie play. It was also nice on afternoons like tonight where the weather was brutal, you were able to stay nice and dry.

You checked into the box, grabbing some juice boxes for each of your kids. You looked around, you had gotten to the stadium pretty early, meaning the box only had a few other people in it already. You moved to the corner with a small table, setting down Nora, and pulling out a chair for James to sit as well. You rummage through your bag, pulling out some toy dinosaurs and cars for James and a stuffed moose than Jessie had gotten for your daughter before she left for the World Cup. Nora insisted it went everywhere she went so you had to bring it with. Placing their juice on the table as well you stood up, looking over the field. You spotted your wife, doing some dribbling in a space all by herself. Not being able to help yourself, you watch her for a second before you feel a hand on the back of your shoulder and a voice calling to you.

“There’s our favorite daughter-in-law!” Jessie’s parents had arrived, her mom standing behind you, arms out for a hug.

“I’m your only daughter-in-law.” You remind her as you move into her arms. Jessie’s father, already kneeling down to talk with your children, opts to give you a wave, you reply with a wave and a quick hello before he goes back to playing with a dinosaur.

“How are you? How are the kids? I feel like we haven’t seen you in forever. What has it been 6-7 months?” She asked.

“Something like that.” The last time you had seen the Flemings was when they had come to visit after the World Cup. “The kids, they’re good. They’ve definitely been keeping me on my toes these days especially while Jess has been away for this tournament. They still haven’t grasped the concept that this is Jessie’s work though. James kept asking when he could see her, it’s just hard to explain at that age, they think she’s just playing like they do in the yard.”

“Yeah I can imagine they don’t quite get it,” Jessie’s mom trailed off turning to watch her husband with his grandchildren. You both stand for a minute watching Jessie’s dad who now had your daughter in his lap, still holding a dinosaur in one hand, play with your kids. “Gosh they both look so much like Jess when she was that age.”

Your children were practically spitting images of your wife. They were, after all, biologically her babies. You and Jessie had decided to do reciprocal ivf after careful consideration. Together you had chosen that you would be the one that would carry them, not wanting to take Jessie away from her career and love for football, meaning the kids would be genetically related to Jessie while you carried them for 9 months, letting you both be a part of their creation. Who could say no to the idea of little versions of Jessie running around, not you.

Both having her brown hair, James' hair had started to show the soft waves that resembled Jessie’s. They both had big brown eyes, which they used to get their way with you. It was hard to say no to them when looking into their eyes reminded you of the woman you were so infatuated and in love with.

The resemblance was obvious at birth with their beautiful eyes looking up at you and Jessie as you held them for the first time. The first time you really recognized how much they all looked alike was one afternoon when you got home from work, you walked into an empty house calling for Jessie and getting no response. It was then that you had heard giggling and joyful screaming coming from the backyard. You walked out to watch as Jessie chased James around the yard, following him with the garden hose as Nora sat on her hip. It seemed they had been playing in the sprinkler all afternoon, all 3 of them soaked. You stood on the deck and watched, just admiring your family for a second before Jessie caught a glimpse of you. She dropped the hose to come say hello and proceeded to hug you, soaking your clothes in the process. Your kids followed and you saw all three of them with the freckles that covered their pink rosy cheeks, just another trait they had gotten from their mother.

The game started shortly after, you had taken a seat on a bench with Jessie’s dad, your son seated between the two of you and your daughter crawling across your lap. You weren’t always the most relaxed watching your wife play. Watching her play was so fascinating and you loved watching your wife play the game she loved so much, but it stressed you out. She always joked to you that you were more nervous than her and all you had to do was watch. Today you were extra anxious. Not only was this a knockout game, but the pitch conditions were horrendous. Everytime Jessie would go for a ball you were just hoping she didn’t slip and end up injured. The US took the lead 20 minutes in, only adding to your anxieties. Halftime came and went, Canada still down. It wasn’t until only 10 minutes were remaining that Canada tied it. You had jumped up and shouted in response to the goal, watching Jessie jump on top of Jordyn in her celebration. You watched as full time played out, ending in a tie. You stood up excusing yourself to use the restroom, leaving James and Nora with their grandparents.

Extra time began just as you returned to the box, you made your way to the table in the back of the room to grab a water bottle and turned back to face the pitch. The sight in front of you warms your heart. It even takes away the stress of the game for just a moment. There were your two children, Nora sitting on Jessie’s mom’s hip, you watched as she babbled at her grandmother, only a couple of the sounds coming out being actual words, but Jessie’s mom was responding as if she was having a complete conversation. James was sitting on his grandfather's shoulders, watching and listening closely as his grandpa pointed and tried to explain the game to him. You and Jessie, mainly Jessie, had tried to teach him but that’s hard to do with a just under three year olds attention span. All he wanted to do was roll the ball around with his hands. You had joked that he’d grow up to be a keeper.

What really tugged at your heartstrings was the assortment of jerseys that all had on, a mix of new and old and a mix of home and away. Your wife’s family name on all of them, which was now your last name too, displayed proudly across the back, her number sitting just below. You felt so lucky, you felt lucky everyday with Jessie, but even in a moment when she is caught up elsewhere, you feel her love and everything she had brought you in this life. Two beautiful children, an amazing set of in-laws, the chance to experience things you could’ve never imagined. Thinking about how adorable it was you grabbed your phone and snapped a photo to show Jessie later.

The anxieties came back as you returned to your seat on the bench. You couldn’t help but notice how relaxed Jessie parents seemed watching their daughter play, maybe it just came with decades of experience that you didn’t quite have yet.

You watched as overtime continued. Feeling upset when the US scored again, only to feel ecstatic when Canada tied it up. Before you knew it, overtime had expired and the game was moving on to penalties.

You watched as the US player made her penalty, followed by a miss by Canada. A goal and another miss had happened for the Canadian side before your wife took the ball and headed to the penalty spot. The US having scored three of their four penalties taken meant if Jessie missed, the game was over, but if she made it they would keep kicking.

Watching Jessie, or any player, take penalties was one of your least favorite parts of football. You always felt bad if a player missed but then you also felt bad for the keeper if it went it. Jessie had laughed when you told her, claiming you just weren’t competitive enough, when it’s your team on the line you don’t feel sorry for the other side. You had told her that your competitiveness only applied to her and whatever team she played for, other than that you were more of a ‘hoe everyone has fun’ type person. You asked Jessie about how it’s such immense pressure being put on just one person on each team and how it feels to be in that spot. Penalties usually didn’t bother your wife, everyone knew it, she had been a penalty kicking machine most of her career. The pressure on her shoulders everytime she steps up, being expected to make it every time, no questions asked, is not something you ever wanted to feel.

You watched her line herself up, placing the ball. Seeing this routine done more times than you could count you had memorized her behaviors. You knew each of her steps before taking it, asking one day in the backyard to explain it to you as she was practicing. Your hands came to rest on your knees that were anxiously bouncing.

She stepped back, took a deep breath and started toward the ball. And then it was dark.

You had shut your eyes, not intentionally, it just happened. You didn’t see the kick, you only realized that it must not have gone in when the crowd erupted in cheers. You slowly opened one eye, peeking as if it’ll change what had just happened. First you see the US team running, dog piling on top of one another. Second seeing Jessie, her head hung, walking toward the bench, shaking her head, brushing off the teammates attempting to console her. Feeling your heart sink for her, knowing just how upset she must be.

“Mom why are they hurting each other?” Your son tugged your hand. He pointed at the pile of US players on the field.

“They’re not hurting each other, they’re celebrating kiddo, they won.”

“But Mama supposed to win.” His eyebrows pinched together, confused looking up at you.

“Well honey that’s not how it always goes, do you remember watching the World Cup?” You hadn’t actually let them watch the games live due to the timing of them but you had put them on during the day letting them watch their mom play. “Mama’s team didn’t always win, right? That’s what happens sometimes. And sometimes that makes her sad. She might be a little sad when we go to talk to her, okay?” He just nodded back at you.

As the stadium cleared out, you and Jessie’s parents, each of them holding one of your kids hands, headed down to the base of the pitch. Jessie was making her rounds, thanking the Canadian fans for coming, signing autographs and taking photos. You loved how even after a tough game she made time for those who came to watch her play. You watched as she continued to make her way headed toward you, not seeing you yet.

“Mama!” James shouted pointing at Jessie. “Mama, hi!” His hand waved in her direction. Hearing her son's voice, Jessie’s head snapped to the side with a smile on her face as she saw her family, you, her kids, her parents all standing together waiting for her. Giving a quick wave to James she turned her attention to the young fan in front of her. She finishes greeting and chatting with the few fans between you and her. As she wanders over, her eyes meet yours for a second and while she isn’t currently crying, you can see she must’ve been at some point. Her face has small tear streaks and eyes are a little red.

“Hi Mama, don’t be sad.” Your son says, making grabbing motions with his hands at Jessie.

“Hi buddy, I’m just a little sad right now, but I’ll be okay. I’m happy that I’m getting to see you and Nora.” She reaches over the wall, grabbing James and pulling him up and over, into her arms. She hugs him tightly and then puts him down at her feet.

“Mama, it's grandma and grandpa.” Your son points, as if Jessie hadn’t seen her own parents in front of her.

“Hi Mom, hi Dad.” She acknowledges them with a quick wave, knowing she’ll be able to fully catch up with them later tonight.

“Hi love.” She turns her attention to you.

“Hi,” moving toward her you reach over the wall giving her a quick peck on the cheek quietly talking in her ear . “I’m so proud of you, even if you don’t want to hear that right now. I love you.”

You pull back, hearing your daughter start babbling again, the words “Mom” and “Mama” coming out as she looks from you to Jessie. She’s standing both of her arms above her head holding onto her grandpa's hands

“You heard her, give me my baby.” Jessie laughs holding her arms out to take Nora. You bend down to pick her up and pass her into your wife’s extended arms. “Hi cutie,” she bounces her, making soft giggles come from her mouth.

You admired Jessie’s ability to put on a happy face for your kids, you knew she was upset about the loss, the lack of penalty called against her, her missed kick, the pitch conditions, but none of it showed as she held your daughter. She looked as happy as can be, as if she had just won the whole tournament. Even if it was a forced smile, you could tell it was, she still put forth the effort.

“Look at us all matching.” She’s talking to your kids. “Can you take our photo?” Now directing her question to you. She bends down to kneel next to her son, daughter still in her arms. She smiles big and tickles your son, getting him to laugh, his smile big in the photo.

“Oh man, we’re all matching. It looks like we’re going on a family reunion with matching shirts.” You see Jessie standing up looking between you and her parents. Everyone laughs at the realization, sure you knew you were all wearing her jersey but it being pointed out was humorous .

“Okay James I have to go, but I’ll see you later tonight okay?” Your wife is back kneeling down, talking to your son.

“Okay Mama, you did a good job at your work job today.” He tries his best to tell Jessie she played well. She looks at you with a questioning glance.

“I was explaining to him that this is your job, the game is work.”

“Gotcha.” She hands you Nora before lifting James over again. “I just have to do recovery. I think since we’re out we’re released as well so I don’t have to stay at the hotel. I don’t know I’ll find out though.” She quickly informs you.

“Alright babe, just shoot me a text and let me know. We’re just going back to the rental.” Deciding that more space and isolation would be better than a hotel with two small children, you had rented a small house for the week. It had a couple bedrooms and was perfect for letting the kids be free and not cooped up in a hotel.

You give Jessie a quick kiss on the lips, making it short and sweet your wife wasn’t big on PDA anywhere, let alone in front of fans and more importantly her parents. Jessie gave hugs to her Mom and Dad before saying goodbye to them as well.

All five of you headed back to the house, Jessie’s parents deciding to crash in the extra bedroom for the chance to see their daughter more than if they had gone to the hotel they had originally booked. It was only an hour later when the knock at the door told you Jessie had arrived.

Jessie’s dad greeted her at the door. You were occupied feeding Nora in the bedroom, while Jessie’s Mom was watching James while he ate. Through the cracked door you could hear your father in law talking to his daughter. He was telling her how proud of her he always is. You could tell she entered the kitchen as you heard James start talking to Jess. You knew her arrival meant he would be done eating, forgetting food was ever an option, just wanting to hang out with her.

“She’s in the bedroom feeding Nora, third door on the left.” Jessie’s mom was telling her daughter.

It was only seconds later that there was a soft knock on the door and Jessie peaked her head though. Her cheeks are still rosy from the game.

“Can I come in or do you want privacy?” Her concern regarding you being comfortable showing.

“Yeah babe, nothing you haven’t seen before, it just felt a little weird with your Dad there so I figured I’d feed her in here.” Nodding at her to come in. She opened the door to come through, closing it behind her. She moved next to you, placing a kiss on your lips, one on your forehead and grazing a hand across Nora’s head. She smelled of vanilla and coconut, freshly showered, her hair still wet.

“I love you, you’re such a good Mom.” She sits down on the bed next to you. Jessie loved watching you with the kids. She especially loved watching you do the more “mundane” tasks, like you were now, Nora resting in your arms as she fed, a task you had done hundreds of times. It felt incredibly intimate to share these small moments together and Jessie was so grateful that you let her be there.

Deciding this might be the only bit of time you get with Jessie alone, without your son or her parents hearing, you decide to check on her. Jessie isn’t the best about expressing her emotions especially in front of your son, she never wants to appear sad or disappointed. Nora was here but she was occupied and she was not yet at the age of picking up much from conversations that didn’t involve the words Mom, Mama, or milk.

“Are you doing okay?” Looking in her eyes, you see the beautiful brown color looking back at you.

“I’m disappointed.” She pauses before continuing, “it just felt like something we could’ve won.” Her head comes to rest on your shoulder and she lets out a sigh.

“I know, baby. I’m sorry. Are you okay besides being just disappointed?” You wanted to make sure the missed penalty wasn’t weighing too heavily on her mental. Jessie knew exactly what you were asking.

“I think so, I chatted quickly with the sports psych while I was stretching about the penalty, I think missing the one earlier got in my head. I don’t feel much at all about it.” Nora decides she’s done feeding, pulling her mouth away and trying to squirm from your hold. “Here let me take her.” Jessie pulls her into her lap, allowing you to clean up and pull your shirt back down.

“It was really nice having you all there after the game.” Her voice was soft as she continued “it just made it hurt a little less getting to see them. They take my mind off the game so quickly.”

“They were both so excited to see you.” You wrap your arm around her waist, pulling her closer to your side. “I was excited to see you too.” Jessie hummed in response, her cheek still resting on your shoulder. You look down in her arms, your youngest was laying, her eyes fluttering as she fought off sleep. Moments later your son is knocking at the door.

“Mama, Mom come on, I want to play and make Mama not sad anymore” You open the door to find your son, a dinosaur in one hand and a small ball in the other. Jessie’s mom quickly following him down the hallway.

“Sorry, we were cleaning up the table from his dinner, we can take play with him if you two need some more time.” She reached out to move James away from the door.

“Oh, no we’re good. Nora’s about to be asleep.” You point back into the room where Jessie is sitting gently rocking your daughter. “We can come play.”

You and Jessie leave the bedroom, coming back to the living room to play with James. Jessie’s dad takes Nora who is sound asleep, claiming he doesn’t get to hold her nearly enough. You both sit on the floor as James hands you plastic animals and begins telling you both about the make believe scenarios he had come up with. You stay on the floor for a while, switching between the make believe world with your son and having regular adult conversations with your wife and in-laws.

Jessie is quiet, not contributing much to the conversation, focusing more on your son. Wishing you could just lift the weight off her shoulders and take away the disappointment she is feeling toward herself, you try your best to steer any conversation away from mentions of the game or football.

James lets out a big yawn as he makes his dinosaur trample a small city he had created.

“Someone’s sleepy.” You tease him.

“No I’m not!” He protests. Looking at you with his brown eyes, silently begging for more time. “Want to keep playing with Mama, it makes her happy.” Jessie shoots you a look, her eyes begging just like his were, mouthing ‘five more minutes’ her hand being held up to emphasize her point.

“Okay, but only a few more minutes bud. You and Mama can play in the morning.”

He seems content with the extra few minutes and the reminder that Jessie would be there in the morning and goes back to playing.

After the few minutes pass by, Jessie starts to clean up the toys, James helping her. You stand up taking Nora from her grandfather’s arms, she’s still fast asleep. You say goodnight to Jessie’s parents and carry your daughter into the office that you had turned into her temporary bedroom. Your kids had separate bedrooms at home and you wanted to keep it as similar as possible. Being able to move around Nora’s crib easily, meant James got the other bedroom in the house. You placed her softly, with a kiss on her forehead and a whisper goodnight. Jessie surprises you by wrapping her arms around your waist.

“She’s so perfect.” Jessie whispers in your ear. “You made two perfect babies.” She adds a kiss to your cheek.

“Technically you made them.” You whisper back to her, still looking at Nora sleeping.

“We both made them, those are our kids.” Humming in agreement, you feel Jessie grab your hand turning to leave the room. You enter James’ room, he had changed into his pajamas while you both were putting Nora down.

“Do you want Mama to tuck you in tonight?” You ask him, wanting to give Jessie the chance as you had tucked him in alone the past few days.

“Both!” He points to both you and Jessie. You each take a side of the bed as he climbs in. You tuck him in, each giving him a kiss and telling him you love him and to not let the bedbugs bite.

Finally back in your bedroom, you and Jessie get ready for bed, each making a trip to the bathroom to brush your teeth, wash your face, change into sleeping shirts and shorts. You come out to Jessie sitting on the edge of the bed, you notice tears on the brims of her eyes.

“Hey, baby what’s wrong.” Rushing in front of her, you kneel down, cupping her face in her hands.

“Nothing, I'm okay.” She blinks hard, clearing the tears that were tempted to spill over.

“Jess, it’s okay if you’re upset, you can be upset in front of me.”

“I know.” There’s a pause and you’re not sure if she’s going to continue or not. You watch as a tear manages to make its way out, rolling down her cheek, you extend your thumb to brush it away. “I just, I feel like I let people down. It’s silly I know, it’s a game, but, I don’t know. I’m just disappointed in myself.”

“It’s not silly Jessie.” Grabbing her hands in yours. “You’re allowed to feel however you want about the game, you’re allowed to feel disappointed. You have to remember you’re just doing your best. Just like everyone else in that game and everyone else in the world, you’re doing the best you can. That’s all you can do.” Not sure if she’s even really listening to your words but wanting to get your point across you continue, “Jess people miss penalties all the time. It’s how it goes, you weren’t the only one to miss tonight. This isn’t all on you. You played so well this whole tournament.” You stand up as your knees started to ache, Jessie was the professional athlete in this family, not you. Deciding to sit on the bed next to her you wrap an arm around her shoulder and lean in.

“I hope you know how proud I am of you.” Hoping she can accept the compliment, she nods at you. The two of you sit in silence on the edge of the bed for a few minutes, just enjoying the quiet after the long day. You’re reminded of something from earlier in the day, reaching for your phone on the bed next to you.

“I know it’s not going to fix how you’re feeling about the game, but look at this.” You slide open your phone, open your photos to show Jessie the image you took of her parents with your kids. “Look at our family.”

She grabbed the phone from your hand, examining the photo. For the first time since the game had ended you saw a genuine smile come across her face.

“That’s our family.”

[yoyomomiko]

[THREE] — The music box

☆ `` SPECTRAL SCAMMERS ``

☆ — summary: when cartman comes up with yet another 'get rich quick' scheme, he forces his friends, and you, into starting a ghost hunting service. armed with a mix of makeshift equipment, a questionable van and no actual skills, you begin taking jobs to "exorcise" haunted houses.

warnings: strong language, violence, horror elements, cartman being cartman.

(a/n): this chapter is sooo long and it took me DAYS to write it!! >_< (I genuinely didn't sleep at all and just wrote this without stopping, hours without breaks xx) -- this is by far the longest fic/chapter that I've ever wrote... I can't believe it's over 11k words!! I apologize for any grammar mistakes, you can point them out nicely and I'll fix them!! I also apologize for how this chapter seems kinda bland ^.^ -- for some reason, i feel like there wasn't enough romantic tension and stuff... and Tweek's interactions with the reader were so awkward I just don't know how to write for him (╥⁠﹏⁠╥)

wc: 11.1k+

★m.list

★series m.list

<- [PREVIOUS] — [NEXT] -> (uncompleted)

Lunch was rarely quiet, but today's chaos reached a new level as Cartman slammed his backpack onto the cafeteria table with a grin.

"You guys aren't going to believe this." He started, practically shaking in excitement.

"Is it another terrible idea?" Kyle asked, barely looking up from his lunch.

"It's not a terrible idea." Cartman snapped, puffing out his chest. "It's a brilliant idea. A $200 idea, to be exact."

"Here we go..." Stan muttered, leaning back in his seat.

Cartman ignored the groans and unsure looks as he whipped out his phone like a trophy. "I just landed us a gig at the old DeLacroix mansion. They're paying us $200 to 'investigate paranormal activity'."

You all froze for a moment, processing his words.

"Two hundred bucks?" Kenny asked, his eyes lighting up. "That's like... A month's worth of pop tats!"

"Wait, wait, wait..." You interrupted them, raising an eyebrow. "Who in their right mind would pay us twenty hundred dollars to investigate anything? We're not exactly professionals."

"That's where my genius comes in. I told them we're licensed professionals." Cartman smirked.

"Licensed by who? The South Park Department of Bullshit?" Craig asked jokingly.

"Licensed by me, obviously." Cartman shot back.

Kyle pinched the bridge of his nose. "So let me get this straight... You lied to some poor people and convinced them to pay $200 to mess and play around their houses pretending to hunt ghosts?"

"Exactly!" Cartman answered proudly. "And you're welcome."

"Dude, this is going to blow up in our faces." Stan said as he shook his head. "We don't know the first thing about ghost hunting."

"We don't need to." Cartman replied, waving him off. "Ghosts aren't even real. We just have to scare the homeowners enough for them to think that we actually did something."

"That's... Moraly questionable." You mumbled, eyeing him up and down.

"Oh, please, [Y/N], like you've never fucked with the truth to make a quick buck." Cartman rolled his eyes.

"I-I don't know about this..." Tweek, seated beside you, shifted uncomfortably. "What if the house is actually haunted?"

"Ghosts aren't real, Tweek." Craig replied flatly as he rested his arms on the lunch table.

"They're not real until they are..." Tweek mumbled, fidgeting with his fingers.

"Okay can we focus on the important part?" Clyde interrupted. "Two hundred dollars is a lot of money. I say we go for it."

"Yeah." Kenny agreed, nodding excitedly. "We could use the cash to upgrade our equipment or something." He muttered hesitantly, a bit heart broken that, most probably, that's what Cartman would want to do with the money.

"What equipment?" Stan asked, raising and eyebrow.

"We'll figure that out later!" Cartman said as he slammed his hands on the table. "All we have to do is show up, act professional and maybe sprinkle some flour to make it look like ghost footprints. Easy money!"

"This is such a bad idea." Kyle groaned.

"Bad idea or not, you're in." Cartman shot back smugly. "Everyone's in."

"I didn't agree to anything." Craig cut in.

"I don't care what you think, Craig." Cartman snapped. "You're coming. And you're driving the van."

Craig flipped him off with the same bored expression on his face.

"What van?" You asked, narrowing your eyes.

"Oh, I've got that covered. Just wait." Cartman's grin widened.

...

As the rest of the group continued to bicker, you couldn't help but notice Tweek fidgeting beside you. His hands toyed with the hem of his shirt, his leg bouncing under the table.

"You okay?" You asked softly, leaning closer to him.

He jumped slightly at the sound of your voice but nodded quickly. "Y-Yeah, just... You know, Cartman's plans never end well."

"That's fair." You mumbled, sighing before quickly giving him a small smile. "But hey, at least this one doesn't involve creating an alien beacon that sends signals out, which ends up getting us abducted by aliens and then arrested by the police." You recalled, reminding Tweek of the horrific incident that happened... Not long ago.

The corners of Tweek's lips tugged upwards, forming a shy smile, his eyes briefly meeting yours. "Yeah, I guess. Still, it's a haunted mansion... That's horror movie territory..."

"You're not scared, are you?" You teased lightly.

"N-No! Of course not!" His face turned a faint shade of pink.

"Don't worry, I'll protect you if anything jumps out." You assured him, smirking as you noticed his cheeks growing redder.

‘ He was so cute when he blushed! You could barely contain yourself from kissing him! ’

He laughed nervously, feeling heat rise to his cheeks. "T-Thanks..."

Across the table, Clyde wiggled his eyebrows at the two of you. "Aw, look at that! Lovebirds bonding over ghost hunting!"

"Shut up, Clyde." Your smirk faded as you threw your empty carton of milk at him.

"You're just jealous." Cartman cut in smugly. "Not everyone gets to bask in my genius and charm like [Y/N] does."

"Yeah, that's exactly it." You muttered dryly, fighting the urge to roll your eyes.

...

After much debate and several insults exchanged between Cartman and Kyle, you all hesitantly agreed to the plan.

"Fine!" Stan snapped, throwing his hands up in the air. "We'll do it, but if this goes wrong, I'm blaming you, Cartman."

"Blame me all you want!" Cartman shot back as he smirked. "I'll be too busy counting my $200 to care."

"What do you mean 'my' $200?" Craig asked, his monotone voice cutting through the noise. "Pretty sure we're splitting it evenly."

"Yeah!" You agreed, nodding. "We're all risking our dignity here, so we all get a fair share."

Cartman huffed but didn't argue further. "Whatever. The point is, we've got a job. We're gonna kick some ghost ass!"

.

.

.

.

You all gathered in the school parking lot after the last bell, backpacks thrown over shoulders and various pieces of 'ghost equipment' in a row. Cartman stood in front of a suspiciously beat up white van, grinning ear to ear as if he was about to ask you if you wanted some candy.

"What the hell is that?" Kyle asked, staring at the van with wide eyes as if it would come to life and swallow him whole.

"Our ride." Cartman answered proudly, slapping the side of the van. "Rented it with my mom's credit card!"

"Your mom let you use her credit card?" Stan raised a brow.

"She doesn't know yet." Cartman admitted with a shrug. "But she will when I 'accidentally' leave the receipt on the counter. By then, it'll be too late."

"Classic." Craig muttered, fighting the urge to roll his eyes.

"Dude, we're not getting in that thing." You said, eyeing the van doubtfully. "It looks like it hasn't been cleaned since the 90s. What's with the stain on the side?"

"Ghost residue." Cartman answered without missing a beat.

"Pretty sure that's bird crap." Clyde pointed out as he leaned closer.

"Shut up!" Cartman snapped. "Do you losers want to walk all the way to the DeLacroix mansion? No? Then get in."

"This is so stupid..." Stan sighed.

"Not as stupid as your haircut." Cartman shot back.

"Let's just get this over with." Kenny interrupted as he threw his backpack in the back. "I wanna see if we can actually pull this off."

The rest of you hesitated but eventually climbed into the van one by one. The inside was even worse, barely breathable air, carrying the smell of sweat, and seats covered in mysterious stains that no one wanted to identify.

"It smells like ass." Clyde stuck out his tongue, pinching his nose.

"This is disgusting." You mumbled as you took a seat near the back.

"Disgusting but functional." Cartman replied as he dropped into the driver's seat.

"You're not seriously the one driving, are you?" Kyle asked, eyeing Cartman up and down.

"Uh, yeah, who else is going to drive?"

"Literally anyone else." Craig cut in, raising his hand.

Cartman ignored him as he turned the key, starting the engine, which, by the way, sounded like it would break down any moment.

"Didn't you say Craig was gonna drive?" Clyde, who was seated in the passenger's seat, asked hesitantly.

"Nope. Don't remember ever saying that." Cartman replied, barely moving the van an inch.

.

.

You ended up next to Tweek, who was already fidgeting with the strap of his bag. His eyes scanned the van like he expected a ghost to pop up from the shadows.

"You good?" You asked, leaning slightly toward him.

"Y-Yeah." He nodded quickly, though his jumpy movements suggested otherwise.

"Well at least the van hasn't exploded yet. That's a good sign, right?" You gave him a small smile.

"I guess. But this thing smells like a gym locker." He chuckled, his shoulder relaxing a bit.

"You're not wrong..." You nodded, trying to hold your breath. "Let's just hope the drive isn't too long."

From the front, Cartman banged his fist on the steering wheel. "Can you idiots shut up for five seconds?! I'm trying to focus!"

"You're trying to focus on driving two miles an hour?" Kyle shot back.

"It's called being cautious you fucking bitch!" Cartman defended himself.

"It's called being a terrible driver." Craig muttered, earning a snicker from Kenny.

"Why don't you go flip off a tree or something?" Cartman snapped, glaring at him through the rearview mirror.

Craig responded by slowly raising his middle finger.

.

.

As the van crept out of town and onto the road leading to the DeLacroix mansion, the air began to shift. The sun was slowly lowering on the sky, causing long shadows across the pavement. Trees lined both sides of the road, their branches twisting up in the orange sky as they gently swayed in the wind.

"This road is creepy as hell." Kenny pointed out, gazing out the window.

"Perfect setting for a haunted mansion." Clyde added, his voice touched with nervous excitement.

"Or for us to get murdered." You muttered, making Tweek's grip on his thighs tighten.

"Relax! Nothing's going to happen. Ghosts aren't real, remember?" Cartman replied, though his hold on the steering wheel tightened.

"That's not what you said when you were charging $200." Stan pointed out.

"That's called marketing." Cartman shot back smugly. "You wouldn't understand."

The road hit a bump, making everyone jump out of their places.

"Careful, fatass!" Kyle shouted, grabbing onto Kenny who was beside him, holding onto his shoulder to secure himself in his seat.

"Don't like my walking? Get out and walk you fucking asshole!" Cartman snapped, turning around to glare at you all.

‘ Of course that idiot wasn't wearing a seatbelt... ’

"No one's walking." You spoke up, cutting off the argument before it could escalate. "Let's just focus on getting there in one piece."

Tweek shifted uncomfortably beside you, his knee bouncing nervously. You reached out and gave his arm a light tap, grabbing his attention.

"Hey, we'll be fine." You assured, keeping your tone casual. "Worst case scenario, we get there, find out it's just some creaky floorboards and call it a day."

He nodded slowly, the corners of his lips tugging upwards and forming a shy smile. "Yeah... Yeah, you're probably right."

"Of course I'm right, I'm always right." You smirked, and Tweek was sure you could hear his heartbeat.

"Aw, look at that!" Clyde teased from the front of the van, smirking as he was turned to fully look at you.

‘ Another idiot who didn't wear seatbelts... ’

"Tweek's got a little bodyguard!"

"Keep talking like that and I won't hesitate throwing you out the van." You warned him, your smirk fading away.

"Try it. I'll land on my feet."

"Can we stop fucking flirting and focus?" Cartman snapped, glaring at everyone in the rearview mirror. "We've got a job to do, assholes!"

"You're the only asshole here..." You muttered quietly.

"Maybe that's why it smells like ass." Craig added, earning a snicker from Stan.

.

.

.

.

The van shook along the lonely and bumpy road, the engine groaning with every turn of the wheels. The sun was slowly setting in, the once orange and pink sky darkening.

"Hey, uh... This thing is making weird noise." Stan pointed out.

"That's just the sound of your whining." Cartman shot back, his tone sarcastic.

"No, seriously." You spoke up, trying to glance at Cartman in the rearview mirror. "It's been getting louder for the last mile. Do you even know how to drive this thing?"

"Of course I know how to drive!" Cartman shouted, puffing out his chest. "I'm a naturally born leader. Driving's part of the package, asshole!"

"Leader of what? The loser unit?" Craig snorted.

Before Cartman could fire back and insult him, the van gave a violent shake. Everyone lunged forward as it came to an abrupt stop. The engine faltering as it made loud, roaring sounds before going completely silent.

"You've got to be kidding me." Kyle groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"What happened?" Kenny asked as he looked around.

Cartman angrily twisted the key, but the engine only made clicking noises in response. "What the hell?!"

"I think your piece of crap van just died." Clyde pointed the obvious, earning a glare from Cartman.

"Shut up, you don't know anything about cars dumbass!" He yelled, practically shaking aggressively in his seat.

"And you do?" Stan raised an eyebrow, only making Cartman's face grow a darker shade of red from frustration.

"I know more than you!" Cartman shouted, slapping the steering wheel.

...

As you all piled out of the van, the reality of your situation started to sink in. The road stretched endlessly in both directions, and to add to the creepiness, the crickets started chirping as the sun lowered.

"This is bad..." Tweek muttered, clutching his bag tightly. "This is really bad..."

"It's fine." You assured him quickly, although your voice was a bit too loud to be entirely convincing. "We'll just figure it out, no big deal."

"No big deal?! We're stranded in the middle of nowhere! What if something's out there?!" Tweek glanced at you, eyes wide as his whole body trembled.

"There's nothing out there." You placed your hand on his shoulder, causing him to flinch. Your gaze flickered nervously toward the dark trees. "Probably just squirrels or something..."

"Squirrels don't make weird noises at night..." He muttered, his voice shaky as he struggled to keep still.

Craig, standing a few feet away, sighed as he interrupted. "Relax. The only dangerous thing out here is Cartman's driving."

"Hey, screw you asshole!" Cartman barked loudly.

Ignoring him, your hand that was on Tweek's shoulder slowly trailed down to his arm, holding it, trying to steady him. "Look, we'll figure it out, okay? We're not gonna be stuck here forever."

"A-Alright... If you say so." Tweek nodded hesitantly, his breathing slowing a little.

For a moment, you felt pride knowing you managed to calm him down a bit. But then the stillness of the road, the sinister silence, the darkening sky... It was starting to creep you out. Before you knew it, the panic you've kept holding in all this time came rushing in.

"What if we are stuck here?" You blurted out quietly, the words coming out of your mouth before you could stop yourself. "What if no one finds us? What if-"

You felt a hand on your shoulder, the gentle gesture catching you off guard. You almost screamed, but you turned around before you did. You found Craig standing beside you, his usual bored expression replaced with a softer one.

"It's alright." He said simply, his voice low and steady.

You blinked at him, caught off guard.

"You're freaking yourself out." He added, his monotone voice oddly comforting. "It's not helping."

"I know that." You muttered, feeling slightly embarrassed.

"Then calm down. We'll figure it out." He shrugged.

Despite his bluntness, his words seemed to make your heart race. You took a deep breath.

.

.

Cartman was pacing back and forth beside the van, muttering under his breath. "This is a disaster! A complete disaster! My mom's gonna get upset!"

"You mean because you stole her credit card?" Kyle asked dryly.

"Shut up you Jew!" Cartman snapped.

Stan kneeled down to check under the van, using one of Cartman's almost out of battery flashlights to light up the underside. "Looks like something's leaking." He pointed out, frowning.

"Oil?" Kenny asked, crouching beside him.

"Maybe. I'm not a mechanic."

"Well does anyone know how to fix it?" Clyde questioned, looking around hopefully.

You all glanced at each other, standing in complete silence other than the chirping crickets.

"Nope." Craig answered bluntly.

"Great." Kyle muttered, running a hand down his face. "Just great."

...

With no immediate solution, you all settled into an uneasy silence. Cartman sulked by the driver's door, muttering about how unfair the universe was. Stan and Kyle debated whether they should try to call for help, although they doubted anyone would come this far out. Tweek leaned on a rock near the edge of the road, his knee bouncing nervously.

You sat down beside him, staring at the van and the rest of the group, who were arguing like crazy. You still felt a little nervous, despite Craig's attempt at calming you down earlier. "How you holding up?" You asked.

"Better." Tweek admitted, though his voice was still shaky. "But this sucks."

"Yeah... It really does." You agreed.

For a moment, the two of you just sat there, watching the sky change from orange and pink to a depressing gray. Despite your situation, there was something oddly peaceful about the quiet.

"Thanks for earlier." Tweek mumbled suddenly, his voice softer than usual.

"For what?" You glanced at him, surprised.

"For, you know... Helping me calm down." He rubbed the back of his neck, avoiding your gaze. "That was pretty nice of you..."

You felt your cheeks warm up, but you quickly brushed it off. "Well, you've got my back too, right?"

Tweek smiled, the corners of his mouth twisting up in a way that made your heart skip a beat. "Yeah. Always."

.

.

You all gathered around the front of the van, flashlights in hand. The hood was popped open, revealing the engine that looked like it hasn't been properly maintained in decades.

Stan squinted at the mess, raising an eyebrow. "Okay, so... What exactly are we looking at here?"

"An engine." Craig replied, arms crossed.

"Yeah, thanks, genius." Kyle muttered, rolling his eyes. He leaned closer, frowning at the faint puddle forming beneath the van. "Something's definitely leaking."

"Maybe it's ghost juice." Cartman suggested, snickering at his own joke.

"No one asked you." Kyle snapped, shining his flashlight on the engine.

You sighed, leaning against the side of the van. "So... Does anyone actually know what they're doing?"

Everyone exchanged awkward glances, shrugging at each other.

"Not a clue." Clyde admitted.

"Fantastic." You muttered, your palm coming in contact with your forehead.

"I've seen my dad fix stuff like this before." Stan spoke up, though his tone wasn't exactly confident. "But we need tools."

"Tools?!" Cartman exclaimed, throwing his hands in the air. "What do you think this is, a Home Depot?! Where are we supposed to get tools in the middle of nowhere?!"

...

"So, what's the plan?" Clyde asked, leaning against the van.

"Plan?" Cartman scoffed. "The plan is you idiots fix the van while I supervise."

"Yeah, that's not happening." Kyle dismissed flatly.

"Wait..." Tweek spoke up, his voice slightly hesitant. "Does anyone have duct tape?"

You turned to him, furrowing your brows together. "What for?"

"Well..." He started, shifting nervously under everyone's gaze. "If it's just a leak, maybe we can patch it up enough to get moving again?"

"That... Actually might work." Stan nodded slowly.

"Great idea!" You praised, smiling at him.

Tweek blinked, his face turning a faint shade of pink. "Uh, thanks..."

"Fine. Who's got tape?" Cartman groaned.

...

After a bit of rummaging, you all managed to find duct tape in Kenny's backpack. You wouldn't dare ask why he had that on him, and it would be better if you didn't.

"This is ridiculous." Craig muttered, watching as Stan and Kyle debated the best way to 'fix' the leak.

"Do you have a better idea?" You asked, raising a brow.

"No. But this still feels stupid." He shrugged.

"Stupid or not, it's all we've got." Stan interrupted, crouching beside the van. "Alright, someone hand me the tape."

Kenny passed the roll as the rest of you watched Stan carefully tape over the leaking spot. "This should hold for a little while. Hopefully."

"Hopefully?!" Cartman exclaimed. "That's the best you've got?!"

"Unless you want to get under there and fix it yourself, yes." Stan shot back.

As Stan finished his makeshift repair, you leaned back against the van, glancing at Tweek. "I didn't expect you to figure out a solution."

"What do you mean?" Tweek tilted his head to the side, confused.

"I mean, that was a pretty great idea. You're full of surprises, huh?" You smiled, nodding towards the engine.

"I just... Didn't want to be stuck here all night." He replied nervously, rubbing the back of his neck as a smile tugged at his lips.

"Well, great job." You muttered.

Tweek chuckled, his usual nervousness temporarily forgotten. "Thanks."

"Alright!" Cartman shouted, clapping his hands. "Is this thing fixed or what?"

"Fixed enough." Stan replied, standing up and dusting off his hands. "But we should probably get moving before it gives out again."

"Great." Cartman said, already climbing into the driver's seat. "Get in, assholes!"

...

You all piled back in the van, the air still tense but slightly more hopeful. The engine came to life as the van moved forward, resuming its journey down the dark, lonely road.

"See? I told you we'd fix it." Cartman bragged, a smug grin on his face.

"You didn't do anything." Kyle pointed out.

"I supervised." Cartman shot back. "That's the most important part of any operation." His words earned a middle finger from Craig, which he of course, didn't ignore.

.

.

.

.

The van came to a stop just outside the towering DeLacroix mansion, and the sight alone was enough to make everyone fall silent. The place looked like it had been ripped straight out of a gothic horror movie. The iron gates creaked as they swung inward, revealing a front lawn with trimmed edges and a path of cobblestone leading to the massive double doors of the mansion. It looked and sounded like hell. No, seriously. The hinges of the gates screeched like tortured souls.

"Wow. They weren't kidding when they said they were loaded." Stan let out a low whistle.

Craig crossed his arms, unimpressed. "Looks like something out of a vampire movie. I'm expecting Dracula to pop up any second."

"This house is awesome!" Kenny beamed, his face lighting up. "It's like something out of those haunted mansion tours!"

"Yeah, well, it's probably just a glorified dust trap." Kyle shoved his hands in his pockets. "Rich people are weird..."

Cartman turned to glare at Kyle, pointing his thumb toward the mansion. "Rich people are our clients you fucking asshole! Now shut the fuck up and try not to embarrass me."

"Embarrass you?" Kyle snorted. "That's rich coming from the guy who got us abducted by aliens yet they still sent us back to Earth because of you."

"Okay now you're pushing it!" Cartman interrupted. "Face it, you're embarrassing all of us."

"Fuck you, fatass!"

Cartman ignored him, puffing out his chest and leading the group up the cobblestone path as if he was the CEO of some multimillion dollar ghost hunting operation.

Before anyone could knock, the heavy front doors creaked open as an elderly woman stepped out onto the grand porch. She was dressed elegantly in a deep emerald gown, her pearl necklace glinting in the fading sunlight. Her husband followed close behind. His tailored suit looked expensive, and his sharp features carried the kind of sterness that could make anyone feel like a misbehaving child.

The woman's eyes scanned you all, her expression both relieved and suspicious. "Oh, thank goodness you're here!" She exclaimed, her voice trembling as she hurried down the steps. "You have no idea how much time we have been waiting for a certain individual to assist us!"

The old man, however, was less excited. He frowned, scanning the group. "You're the ghost hunters?" He asked, his tone doubtful as he eyed you all. "You all look... Very young."

"Thanks, I moisturize." Craig spoke up.

Cartman stepped forward, giving Craig a glare before plastering a fake smile onto his face. "Youthfulness is what makes us the best in business." He replied, his tone was supposed to sound professional, but came off more like a used car salesman.

The old man remained unconvinced, his eyes narrowing as if he were searching for a hidden adult supervisor. "Are you even qualified for this?"

"Qualified?" Cartman repeated, placing a hand on his chest as if he was personally offended. "Sir, we're professionals. We've been in the business for years! Licensed, insured, you name it!"

"Insured against what? Getting caught in your lies?" Kyle muttered under his breath.

Cartman shot him a warning glare before turning back to the couple. "Now, why don't you tell us exactly what's going on, and we're gonna take care of it faster than you can say 'check, please'!"

The woman squeezed her own hands, glancing nervously at her husband before speaking. "It's been terrible. Absolutely terrible. Every night, we hear whispers in the halls. Sometimes it's a woman singing... So soft and yet so haunting... It feels like it's coming from nowhere and everywhere at once."

"And the doors." The old man added, adjusting his tie. "They slam shut on their own. Sometimes in the middle of the night, sometimes when we're standing right there. It's like we're not welcome in our own home."

"Maybe it's just bad hinges or the wind?" Keny tilted his head to the side.

The woman shot him a sharp look. "Does the wind whisper your name?"

"Depends on how much I've had to drink." Kenny muttered, earning a snicker from Craig.

The man's frown deepened. "This isn't a joke. Whatever is in that house... It isn't natural. And it's just getting worse."

"Don't worry, sir, ma'am." Cartman stepped forward with false confidence. "You called the right team. We've handled cases way scarier than this."

"Name one." Kyle challenged, crossing his arms.

Cartman ignored him, turning his attention back to the couple. "Now, let's talk about payment. We'll need half upfront for, uh, operational costs."

The woman's brows furrowed together. "Operational costs?"

"Yeah." Cartman replied smoothly. "You know, equipment, transportation, ghost insurance..."

"Ghost insurance?" The old man repeated, raising one of his bushy eyebrows.

"It's standard practice." Cartman said, waving off their confusion. "Ghost hunting is dangerous work. There's always a risk of possession, attacks, or ectoplasmic goo. We can't exactly do this for free, can we?"

"Oh my God Cartman, stop scamming people." Stan groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"Scamming people?" Cartman repeated, acting offended. Technically, he was. "This is a legitimate business transaction. Now, if you're done interrupting, let the professionals handle this."

The woman sighed, clearly too exhausted to argue. She reached into her purse, pulling out a checkbook. "Fine. You'll get $100 now and the rest when the job is done."

"Pleasure doing business with you." Cartman smirked, snatching the check before anyone else could.

The man gestured toward the house, his expression grumpy. "Do whatever you need to. Just get rid of it."

Cartman turned to the rest of you, clapping his hands together. "Alright assholes, you heard the man! Gear up and get to work!"

Craig rolled his eyes, fighting the urge to flip Cartman off. "I'm only doing this because I need the money."

"Yeah, yeah, whatever." Cartman waved him off. "Now let's get moving! Time is money!"

As you all started gathering your 'equipment', you exchanged a glance with Tweek, who was fidgeting nervously.

"Come on, I'm sure it's fine." You cut through the silence, making Tweek flinch.

"Y-Yeah, I'm sure it's alright... But this place gives me goosebumps..." He replied, his voice shaky as his eyes darted everywhere.

"We can use Cartman as a shield." You shrugged, looking over your shoulder to see Cartman shouting at everyone.

Tweek chuckled, his shoulder relaxing a bit. "I-If it's an actual ghost, I'm running back to the van and leaving without the rest of you."

"You're leaving me behind?" You raised your brows, gasping dramatically.

"I'll take you with me." Tweek shrugged, the corners of his lips tugging upwards and forming a shy smile.

You could feel your pulse quickening, but you chose to ignore the feeling and hurry up, since Cartman was already fuming.

...

The old woman held the door open as you all stumbled inside, the creak of the heavy wooden door echoing around the mansion. The interior of the DeLacroix mansion was just as massive as the exterior, if not more so. A huge chandelier hung from the high ceiling, its crystals catching the light from the several candles on numerous shelves. The walls were lined with dark wood, and a thick red rug stretched across the polished floor. Everything about the place screamed wealth, but there was something... Off about it.

You couldn't put your finger on it. Maybe it was the faint mouldy smell, or the way the shadows seemed to stretch a little too far.

"Well..." The old woman started, folding her hands in front of her. "We'll let you get to it. My husband and I will be in the kitchen if you need anything."

"Tea." The old man added, narrowing his eyes as they scanned over the group once more. "We'll be making tea. And don't think for a second we won't notice if something goes missing."

"Sir." Cartman started, putting a hand to his chest. "I'll have you know that we run a very professional operation. Stealing? That's beneath us."

"Uh-huh." The old man replied, his tone still doubtful as he ran his eyes across you all with a suspicious look. He turned to his wife. "Come on, let's leave them to it before I change my mind."

As the couple disappeared down the hall, Cartman turned back to you all, his fake professional demeanor dropping in an instant. "Alright, listen up fuckers. Rule number one, nobody wanders off alone. Got it?"

"What are we, five?" Craig raised an eyebrow.

"No!" Cartman snapped. "But you all have the attention span of toddlers, and I'm not gonna lose my $200 payday because one of you morons gets lost or spooked and runs screaming out the door."

"Oh, please. Nobody here actually believes in ghosts. Right?" Kyle crossed his arms.

"I don't know, dude. Places like these always have weird vibes." Kenny shrugged.

Tweek shivered, glancing around nervously. "I mean... It's just a house, right? A really big, creepy, probably haunted house, but still... Just a house."

"Exactly." You cut in, offering him a reassuring look. "There's nothing to be scared of."

Before anyone could respond, a loud SLAM echoed through the mansion. The sound came from the second floor, sharp and intentional, like someone had thrown a door shut with all their strength.

Everyone froze, exchanging uneasy glances.

"Uh... What was that?" Stan asked, his voice low.

Cartman let out a nervous laugh. "Probably the wind. Or, you know, old houses make weird noises all the time!"

"Yeah, sure." Kyle muttered. "Because the wind totally sounds like a fucking door being slammed shut."

"Great plan, genius." Craig interrupted, looking at Cartman. "Let's all just split up already and investigate the creepy murder mansion."

"We're not splitting up!" Cartman snapped. "Were you not listening five seconds ago? We stick together and do this room by room. Now shut up and follow my lead."

"Your lead?" Kyle scoffed. "Oh, this is gonna be good."

"Would you just shut your damn Jew mouth and grab your flashlight?" Cartman shot back, ready stomping toward the huge staircase.

As the rest of you followed, the harsh silence of the mansion seemed to press in from all sides. The only sounds were the creak of the floorboard beneath your feet and the occasional drip of water from God knows where.

You glanced at Tweek, who was clutching his flashlight as if his life depended on it. "You look scared. Are you okay?"

"Yeah!" He replied, his voice toi high pitched to be convincing. "Totally fine. Just, uh... Keeping an eye out for... Y-You know, ghost stuff..."

"You sound just like Cartman." You pointed out, which made Tweek shoot you a glare.

"Don't compare me to that fatass." He mumbled under his breath.

"Yeah, I probably shouldn't." You shrugged, continuing to step beside him.

Tweek's eyes darted around, examining the place. "That slam... It was definitely the wind..." His hands trembled as his grip tightened on his flashlight.

You couldn't help but smile at his attempt to convince himself. "Right. The wind. Because the wind definitely has the power to slam a door with enough force to rattle the whole house."

Tweek groaned, running a hand through his hair and fighting the urge to pull on it. "Okay, fine, i-it was weird. But it's probably nothing. Probably..."

"Exactly." You agreed, placing a reassuring hand on his shoulder. "No need to panic. Not yet, anyway."

As you reached the top of the stairs, Cartman stopped abruptly, causing everyone to nearly collide into each other.

"Alright." Cartman started, pointing toward the hallway ahead. "Here's the plan, we check each room, starting from the left, and work our way down. Got it?"

"Who died and made you boss?" Stan muttered.

"My superior intellect did!" Cartman shot back. "Now shut up and start looking."

The first few rooms were uneventful. A guest bedroom with dusty furniture, a study filled with old books and strange ornaments and a bathroom with a cracked mirror. Everything looked like it hadn't been touched in years, but nothing seemed out of the ordinary.

"See?" Kyle said as he gestured to the very normal surroundings. "Nothing spooky. Just a big, creepy old house."

"Yeah, because ghosts totally introduce themselves on the first time." Kenny teased.

As you passed what appeared to be another bedroom, something on the nightstand caught your eye. It was a small, golden music box. You almost entered the room, sitting right by the door. You wanted to reach out and touch it, but before you could even fully step inside, Cartman's voice cut through.

"Don't touch anything!" He barked, making you jump.

"What? Why not?" You questioned, turning to glare at him, stepping away from the door.

"Because." He started, puffing out his chest. "This is a delicate operation. We can't have you breaking stuff and getting us kicked out before we get paid."

"Or..." Craig interrupted. "Maybe he's just scared you'll unleash a ghost or something."

"Shut up, crooked teeth!" Cartman shot him a dirty look.

"I had braces you fucking fatass." Craig shouted, yet somehow his voice was still monotone.

"Well maybe you should consider getting them again!"

Before anyone could argue further, another door slammed somewhere in the house, but this time it was much closer.

"Okay, that's it!" Tweek spoke up, his voice shaking. "I don't care i-if it's the wind or a fucking ghost, I-I don't like this!"

"Relax." You replied, trying to sound calm even if your pulse quickened. "It's probably just... I don't know, the house settling or something."

"Sure." Kyle interrupted sarcastically. "Because houses totally 'settle' by slamming door randomly."

Cartman turned to the group, his face slightly pale but his voice firm. "Alright, new rule, nobody touches anything unless I say so. Got it?"

"Just lead us to the next boring room so we can get this over with." Craig rolled his eyes.

As Cartman reluctantly led the group out of the bedroom, you couldn't shake the feeling that something was watching you.

.

.

You all stood in the barely lit hallway of the second floor, the air heavy with the scent of old wood and dust. The mansion's silence was brutal, broken only by the faint creaks and groans of the house settling. Several doors lined the hall, their chipped paint adding to the unsettling vibe.

Cartman pointed to the nearest door, puffing out his chest like he was a drill sergeant. "Alright pussies, we're hitting this room next. Be ready for anything."

"Yeah, like the world's most haunted dust collection. Can we just get this over with?" Kyle sighed, crossing his arms.

"Don't be such a fucking buzz kill!" Cartman snapped. "This is serious business."

Before anyone could respond, a faint whispering sound drifted through the hallway.

"D-Do you guys h-hear that...?" Tweek asked, his voice barely above a whisper. His eyes darted around, his grip tightened on his flashlight.

"Stop messing around." Kyle glared at Cartman, his tome stern. "It's obviously you trying to scare everyone."

"Me?!" Cartman yelled out, clearly offended. "I'm not wasting my energy on scaring you losers. I've got $200 on the line here!"

The whispering grew louder, clearer nos, although the words were impossible to make out. It was like a dozen voices overlapping, murmuring in a language none of them recognized.

"Okay, who's doing that?" Stan asked, his voice shaky. He glanced over his shoulder, his flashlight beam darting across the empty hallway.

"It's not me." Kenny said as he stepped closer to the rest of you. "That's creepy as hell..."

"Very funny, Cartman." Kyle pinched the bridge of his nose, his voice sounding irritated. "You can cut it out now."

"For the last time, it's not me!" Cartman practically hissed.

The whispering came to a sudden stop, leaving a sinister silence in its place.

"See?" Craig broke the silence flatly, flipping Cartman off. "This is why I don't do this stupid ghost hunting crap. It's always the handsome guy who gets killed first in horror movies."

"Oh, please." Clyde interrupted, his voice slightly trembling. "If anyone's dying first, it's probably me. I'm the perfect victim for a true crime documentary."

"Shut up, Clyde!" Cartman shouted, but his voice sounded nervous.

Before anyone could laugh or argue, the overhead lights flickered once, twice, and then went out completely.

"Holy shit!" Tweek yelped, grabbing onto your arm.

"What the hell just happened?" Kyle asked, his voice tense.

The hallway was swallowed by darkness, the only source of light coming from the faint beam of your flashlights. Then came the sound of floorboards creaking, slow and careful, as if someone or something was walking toward you.

"Who's there?" Stan called out, his voice cracking.

No one answered, but the sound grew louder and closer. Then, soft singing began to echo through the hallway.

It was a woman's voice, melodic and haunting, the kind of sound that made your stomach drop and skin crawl. The song was low, the words incoherent but the tone sorrowful.

"Oh my God, oh my God, oh my God..." Tweek muttered under his breath, his nails digging into your arm.

You tried to say something reassuring, but the words stuck in your throat. Your flashlight beam darted around the hallway, revealing nothing but empty space.

"This... Isn't funny." Kenny spoke up, his usual tone replaced by genuine fear.

"Okay, everyone stay calm." Cartman said, trying to sound reassuring and professional but failing miserably. "It's just... It's probably just... Uh..."

"Yeah, fatass." Kyle snapped. "What's your brilliant explanation for this one?"

Before Cartman could answer, the singing stopped as suddenly as if had started, and the lights flickered back on.

You all stood frozen, your breaths coming out in short, shaky gasps.

"What the actual hell was that?" Stan asked, running a hand through his hair.

"I don't know." You admitted, voice barely above a whisper.

"I'll tell you what it was." Cartman straightened up, trying to regain his composure. "It was nothing. You guys are just freaking yourselves out for no reason."

"Nothing?" Kyle repeated, his eyes wide. "The lights went out, we heard footsteps and singing, and you're calling that nothing?"

"Yeah." Cartman nodded, crossing his arms. "Because ghosts aren't real. And even if they were, they're not screwing up my $200 payday. So, suck it up and get back to work!"

"Screw this." Craig cut in sharply, turning toward the stairs. "I'm out. I've seen enough movies to know where this is going, and I'm not sticking around to be ghost bait."

"Oh, great idea, Craig." Cartman scowled. "Run off and leave the rest of us to deal with it."

"You're acting like I care." Craig replied, flipping Cartman off again. "Have fun getting haunted."

"Wait for me!" Clyde rushed by Craig's side. "I am not dying in some cursed mansion. Do you know how many unsolved mystery podcasts start like this?"

"Come on, we can't just bail. We don't even know what's going on yet." You tried to convince them, voice shaky. If you were honest, you were only doing that so you could push them into whatever's chasing you, just to buy you time.

"Exactly!" Cartman pointed at you. "Finally, someone with some common sense!"

Tweek glanced at you, his voice barely above a whisper. "You really think we should stay?"

You hesitated for a moment before nodding, even if you weren't entirely sure yourself.

‘ They can probably run faster than you... At least there's Cartman. ’

"We've come this far. We might as well see it through." You shrugged, hoping they'd listen.

Stan sighed, his eyes narrowing. "Fine. But if another light goes out, I'm seriously done."

Kyle gave you a long look, his expression unreadable. "You sure about this?"

No, you weren't sure. Not at all. But you forced yourself to nod. "Yeah. Let's keep going."

Cartman clapped his hands together, a fake grin plastered on his face. "See? Teamwork makes the dream work! Now let's move it assholes!"

As you all reluctantly followed Cartman further down the hallway, you couldn't shake the feeling that something was watching you.

And whatever it was, it didn't feel friendly.

.

.

You all lazily stood in the hallway for a moment longer, still shook after the sinister singing and flickering lights. The harsh silence of the house pressed down on you, and even Cartman's usual ramble seemed muted.

Stan broke the silence with a half hearted chuckle. "Okay, seriously, what kind of ghost sings? Is this like... Phantom of the Opera?"

"Yeah, maybe she's just auditioning for Broadway." Kenny snorted.

Cartman rolled his eyes. "Yeah, laugh it up, you pussies. Meanwhile, I'm trying to stay professional so we can get paid."

"Professional?" Craig repeated, his monotone voice dripping with sarcasm. "You've been sweating like shit and yelling at everyone since we got here."

"Shut the fuck up!" Cartman snapped. "Not everyone can be a soulless robot like you!"

Craig gave him the middle finger without even looking, his gaze fixed on the cracked ceiling. "Whatever."

Tweek tugged at the collar of his shirt, his shoulders tense. "Can we just move on? Standing in the hallway is making my skin crawl."

"Yeah." You agreed, glancing toward one of the nearby bedroom doors. "Let's check that one out. Maybe we'll find something useful."

"Or maybe we'll find more dust and spiders." Kyle muttered, though he followed you toward the door.

You all walked into the room cautiously, you flashlights darting across the space. It was a large bedroom, clearly once belonging to someone with expensive taste. The bed was massive, covered in faded sheets, the walls lined with mirrors. A heavy wardrobe stood in one corner, its doors slightly opened, a layer of dust coating every surface.

"This is... Creepy." Kenny whispered, shining his light on one of the dusty mirrors.

"Yeah, no thanks." Stan added. "This place screams tetanus."

Clyde, who has been quiet all this time, suddenly let out a blood curdling scream.

"What?!" Cartman shouted, spinning around.

"There's something on me! There's something on me!" Clyde screeched, flailing his arms wildly.

A large spider crawled up his sleeve, its legs moving across the fabric. Clyde's face went pale as he bolted across the room, swatting at himself like he was actually possessed.

"Get it off! Get it off!" He cried out.

"Dude, stop moving!" Stan yelled, trying to grab his arm.

"Hold still, idiot!" You added, but Clyde wasn't listening.

He stumbled into the wardrobe, rattling it loudly and sending a cloud of dust into the air. The spider, unfazed by the commotion, crawled onto Clyde's shoulder.

"Oh my God, it's still there!" Clyde whined, spinning in circles.

Kenny stepped forward, holding his flashlight like a weapon. "Calm down, I'll get it!"

Before anyone could do anything else, Clyde smacked his own shoulder with enough force to knock the spider to the ground. It ran away quickly, disappearing under the bed.

"There!" Clyde gasped, attempting to calm himself down as he clutched his chest. "It's gone! It's gone!"

"You're such a baby." Cartman smirked. "It was just a spider."

"Yeah, well I didn't see you rushing to help." Clyde shot back, his face still pale.

"Wait." You interrupted, pointing toward the door. "Did anyone else hear that?"

The room fell silent, everyone going quiet to listen. The it came, a faint creak, followed by the sound of the bedroom door slamming shut.

"Holy shit!" Tweek yelped, his eyes wide.

Kenny ran to the door, twisting the knob. "It's not locked." He let out a breath of relief. "But what the hell shut it?"

"Maybe the wind?" Stan sugested, though he didn't sound convinced.

"Yeah, definitely." Craig rolled his eyes, leaning on the wall with his hands shoved in his pockets. "The wind. In a house with no open windows. Makes total sense."

"Okay Mr. Unfazed, then what's your brilliant explanation?" Cartman snapped.

"Ghosts." Craig answered flatly. "Obviously."

"Ghosts aren't real." Kyle sighed, knowing damn well that he was just trying to calm himself down. "We've been over this."

"Then why are you sweating?" Craig shot back, a rare smirk on his face.

Kyle glared at him, but didn't respond.

"Can we please just investigate and get out of here?" You spoke up, breaking the tension.

The group hesitantly agreed, spreading around to search the room. Cartman stayed near the door, muttering to himself about 'stupid amateurs ruining his paycheck', while the rest of you examined the furniture and walls.

As you ran your flashlight along the far wall, you heard a faint knocking sound.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

You froze, your breath catching in your throat.

"Did you guys hear that?" You asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

"Hear what?" Stan asked, looking up from the dresser he was investigating.

The knocking came again, this time louder.

Tap. Tap. Tap.

"It's coming from the next room." Tweek noted, his voice trembling.

"Great." Clyde muttered. "More creepy noises. Just what we needed..."

Then, faint but unmistakable, came the sound of singing.

It was the same voice from before, soft and melodic, the kind of sound that made you shiver.

"Okay, nope." Clyde shook his head, backing toward the door. "I'm officially done. Screw this!"

"You're not leaving!" Cartman snapped, blocking the exit. "I don't care how scared you are. We're staying until we figure this out."

"Easy for you to say." Stan muttered. "You get to stay far away from the sound. You're not the one who has to listen to this creepy ass singing!"

You all fell silent again, the singing growing louder. It seemed to echo through the walls, wrapping around you like a cold but invisible hand.

"Alright..." Kyle broke the silence, his shoulders tense. "Let's just finish checking this room and move on. The faster we're done, the faster we can leave."

You nodded, though your hands were shaking slightly. You continued your search, but the tension in the room was evident and uneasy, every creak and whisper sending chills down your spine.

The hallway leading to the next room seemed suspiciously quiet, almost as of the house itself was holding its breath. You all hesitated in front of the door, your flashlights waving around.

"This is the last door on this side." You broke the silence. "Let's get this over with."

Cartman groaned, stepping forward with exaggerated confidence. "Step aside, amateurs. Watch the professional work."

He grabbed the doorknob and twisted, but the door didn't budge. "What the hell?" He grunted, twisting it harder. "It's stuck!"

"Maybe it's locked." Stan suggested, leaning closer.

"It's not locked!" Cartman snapped. "It's just being a piece of shit!"

"Let me try." Kenny offered, stepping forward. Together, the two of them pushed and pulled on the door, but it refused to give.

"Move." Craig warned, fighting the urge to roll his eyes. He gave the door a single hard kick, and with a loud creak, it swung open, revealing a barely lit room.

"Damn." You whispered, biting your bottom lip for a quick second as Craig just raised an eyebrow at you.

"Remind me not to get on your bad side." Clyde muttered.

Craig shrugged, his flashlight scanning the room. "You'd have to actually interest me for that to happen."

The rest of you stepped inside cautiously, your flashlights lighting up the room, revealing dust covered furniture and faded wallpaper. The room was large but cluttered, with a table, a tall wardrobe, and a canopy bed draped in pretty curtains. What caught everyone's attention, however, were the framed photos scattered across the room.

"Whoa..." You whispered, picking one of the many pictures up from a shelf. The photo was black and white, the edges yellowed with age.

The woman in the picture looked elegant, her hazel eyes shining even through the faded photograph. A small mole under her left eye added a touch of uniqueness to her already stunning features, and her smile was warm and inviting.

"Is that her?" Tweek asked, leaning over your shoulder to get a better look. "The ghost?"

"Probably." Kyle shrugged, picking up another photo from another shelf. "She looks... Different than what I expected."

"Yeah." Stan agreed. "Not your typical creely ghost lady."

"Don't let the pictures fool you." Kenny informed, smirking. "The nice ones are always the scariest."

Cartman snorted, shoving past everyone to examine the photos himself. "You bitches are so easily impressed. It's just a bunch of old pictures. Big deal."

As if on cue, a soft melody began playing from the corner of the room. Everyone froze in their spot.

"What the hell is that?" Clyde whispered, his voice trembling.

You turned toward the source of the sound, your flashlight landing on a small, golden box sitting on the nightstand. The same one you so badly wanted to touch earlier. Its lid was open, revealing a delicate ballerina figure spinning slowly to the tune.

"Nope." You sighed immediately, shaking your head. "I am not doing this."

Before anyone could stop you, you marched over to the music box and snapped the lid shut. The melody stopped abruptly, leaving the room silent.

"[Y/N]..." Kyle started, his tone cautious and soft. "Maybe you shouldn't-"

The lights went out.

A harmonized gasp filled the room, followed by the sound of stumbling feet and hurried whispers.

"Who turned off the lights?" Cartman demanded, his voice high pitched with panic.

"No one!" Stan hissed. "Just stay calm-"

A blood curdling scream tore through the darkness, so loud and piercing that it felt like it was coming from inside your own head.

"WHAT THE HELL?!" Clyde screamed, practically climbing onto Kenny for protection.

The floorboard beneath you groaned, the heavy and slow footsteps closer. Then came the banging, loud, frantic and relentless, echoing through and off the walls as if the entire house was alive.

"Get me out of here!" Tweek shouted, his voice cracking as he clung to the nearest person, which happened to be you.

"I can't see anything!" Kyle yelled, his flashlight flickering wildly in his hands.

"Move bitches, move your fucking asses!" Cartman screamed, his usual confidence and braveness completely gone.

Just as suddenly as it had started, the chaos stopped. The lights flickered back on as everyone stood frozen, your breaths coming out in ragged gasps.

"Is everyone okay?" Stan asked, his voice shaking.

"I think so..." You mumbled, your hands trembling. "But what the hell was that?"

"Uh... Guys..." Kenny trailed off, his voice unusually serious. "Look at the mirrors."

You turned slowly, your heart thumping in your chest as you took in the sight. Every mirror in the room was cracked, crazy and uneven lines scattered across their surface.

And then you saw her.

She stood near the music box, her once beautiful face twisted into an expression of pure rage. Her white dress was stained with dirt, her hair a tangled mess that hung over her milky white eyes. The pearl necklace from the photos was now dangling loosely around her neck, cracked in several places.

No one spoke. No one even dared to move.

The ghost's gaze scanned over each one of you, her presence suffocating and cold.

"Oh shit..." Clyde whispered, his voice barely audible.

Cartman, of all people, was the fist to completely break the silence. He pointed an accusing finger at you.

"[Y/N], you dumb bitch!" He shouted. "I told you not to touch anything!"

...

Cartman took a cautious step forward, his flashlight flickering as he raised it toward her ghostly figure. His confidence was shaky at best, but he puffed out his chest in a pitiful attempt to seem in control.

"Alright, listen up, you decrepit old hag!" He barked, his voice cracking slightly. "I don't know who you are, but you're messing with licensed professionals here!"

She didn't react, her sinsiter and unblinking gaze fixed on them.

"Cartman, shut up!" Kyle hissed, gripping his flashlight tightly.

"No, no, I've got this!" Cartman insisted, waving a hand dismissively. He turned back to the ghost, narrowing his eyes. "You think you're scary? I've seen scarier things come out of Kenny's microwave! You look like you crawled out of a sewer and then got hit by a truck! What are you, part of the teenage mutant turtles?!"

The lights flickered violently, the room growing colder and more suffocating with each passing second. The ghost's head tilted slightly, her form trembling as if she was barely holding back her anger.

"Dude, stop!" Stan warned, his voice tense.

But Cartman was on a roll. "Oh, what's the matter? Did your ugly little music box break? Is that why you're so pissed off? Newsflash lady, nobody even uses music boxes anymore. Get with the times!"

As he spat out insult after insult, you noticed something. The ghost wasn't moving closer to Cartman despite her obvious anger. Instead, her transparent form seemed to stand close to the music box sitting on the nightstand.

"Wait..." Stan muttered under his breath, his brows furrowed together. "It's the music box, she's guarding it!"

You blinked, glancing between Stan and the ghost. "You think that's what's keeping her there?"

"She's not moving away from the music box, no matter how much Cartman screams at her." Stan whispered. "It has to mean something..."

"Cartman, keep her distracted!" Stan suddenly called out, his mind racing as he pieced together a plan.

Cartman turned, looking both insulted and confused. "Distracted? I'm trying to banish her, dipshit! Do you know how much skill that takes?!"

"Just do it!" Stan snapped.

Cartman huffed but turned back to the ghost. "Oh, so now you're just gonna stare at me like some creepy doll? You think that's intimidating? I've seen scarier things in the mirror every morning! Wait, that doesn't sound right..."

While Cartman continued judging her, Stan crept toward the music box, moving as quietly as he could. The rest of you held your breath, your eyes darting between Stan and the ghost. Her gaze remained locked on Cartman, though her form flickered as if sensing Stand presence near the box.

"Just grab it already!" Clyde whispered harshly.

Stan's hands shook as he reached for the music box. His fingers barely grazed the lid when all of the sudden the ghost's head snapped toward him, her milky white eyes narrowing.

"Shit." Stan gasped, making eye contact with the ghost as he froze completely. "Run!" He shouted, yanking the music box off the nightstand.

The ghost let out another blood curdling scream, the sound so loud and piercing it felt like it was drilling into your skull. The lights flickered wildly, sending the room into bursts of darkness and light.

"Move, bitch!" You yelled, grabbing Clyde's arm and shoving him toward the door.

You all bolted out of the room in a frantic scramble, tripping over each other as you sprinted down the hallway. The walls seemed to shake with the ghost's rage, her screams echoing behind you.

"She's following us!" Tweek cried out, his voice trembling as he clung to you arm.

"Don't look back!" Stan yelled, clutching the music box tightly as he led the rest of you down the stairs.

You all rushed into the hall, nearly knocking over a decorative vase. The kitchen door creaked open slightly, and for a split second, you caught a glimpse of the old couple sipping tea at the table, unaware of the chaos unfolding just a few feet away.

"We're gonna die, and they're drinking fucking tea!" Clyde whined, almost tripping over the rug.

"Shut up and keep running!" Kyle snapped, shoving him toward the front doors.

You all burst into the garden, the cool night air hitting your face like a splash of water. Your eyes darted around wildly, taking in the small graveyard sat at the edge of the property.

"Her grave!" Stan panted, doubling over as he tried to catch his breath. "We need to find her grave!"

The rest of you stared at the rows of headstones, the glow of the moon softly shining on them.

"There's too many of them!" Clyde cried. "We don't even know her name! How are we supposed to-"

"There!" Stan pointed to a headstone near the center, the name 'Mary DeLacroix' carved into the stone. "I saw her name on an open notebook, on the table [Y/N] found the first photo! At least I think that's her!" He panted, barely breathing.

He took a step forward but hesitated, his hands shaking as he held out the music box.

"I can't do it..." He admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. "I-I'll mess it up!"

Stan didn't think, he just threw the music box into your arms. There wasn't much you could say, especially because of the state you were in. You quickly bolted toward Mary's grave.

"Wait, you can't just-" Tweek shouted after you, panicking as he saw you complying instead of throwing the music box into someone else's hands.

The tiny metal gate surrounding the graveyard clattered as you jumped over it, the music box clutched tightly in your hands. Behind you, Mary's screams grew louder, her ghostly form tearing through the garden.

Your heart pounded in your chest as you reached her grave, nearly tripping over your own feet. Dropping to your knees, you placed the music box gently on top of the headstone, your breath coming in ragged gasps.

"Please work..." You whispered, your voice trembling. "If it doesn't, I swear I'll posses Stan and jump off a bridge..."

You turned around, seeing Mary's form exactly in front of you, inches away from you, her once beautiful face twisted with rage. Her hands were raised as if she was about to strike, but the miment her eyes landed on the music box, she froze. You swore you've seen this sight in a FNAF game before.

The air around you grew still, the harsh weight of her presence lifting slightly. Mary's angry expression softened, her ghostly form flickering as she reached out toward the music box.

Her fingers grazed it lightly. "Thank you..." She whispered, her voice barely audible.

Before you could respond, her form began to disintegrate, her body breaking apart into specks of light that drifted upward like fireflies. The garden grew silent once more, the only sound being the rustling leaves in the night breeze.

Your shoulders relaxed a bit, still sitting down on the grass, your hands trembling as you tried to catch your breath.

The rest of the group rushed over, their faces a mix of relief and awe.

"Holy shit!" Kyle panted, helping you to your feet. "You actually did it!"

"Damn right she did." Kenny teased, smacking you on the back playfully.

"Nice work..." Tweek added, giving you a shy smile.

Cartman, of course, had to ruin the moment. "Yeah, yeah, great job [Y/N]. But let's not forget who kept that bitch distracted in the first place. If it weren't for me, you'd all be dead!"

Craig flipped him off. "You're welcome, fatass."

Clyde let out a shaky laugh, his hands still trembling. "We're never doing this again, right? Right?"

"Don't bet on it." Kyle muttered, glancing back at the house as he kept his hand on your shoulder.

For the first time that night, you allowed yourself to relax, a small smile tugging at your lips. Mary was gone, and for now, you were safe.

...

You all walked back to the mansion, adrenaline slowly giving away to exhaustion. Tweek clung to you, his eyes darting around nervousness as if expecting Mary to reappear at any moment.

"Holy shit..." Clyde muttered, breaking the silence. "We just... Banished a ghost. Like, an actual, real ghost."

Kyle let out a shaky breath, running a hand down his face. "Yeah, and I'm still trying to process how any of this is real. Ghosts aren't supposed to exist."

"Guess what, Kyle?" Cartman started, his voice smug as he spun around to face the rest of you. "We're officially professional ghost hunters now. You all doubted me, but I just led us through a successful exorcism. So, you're welcome!"

"You didn't do shit." Stan shot back. "All you did was piss her off."

"And distract her!" Cartman added, puffing his chest out. "You think she'd have stood there like an idiot if I wasn't verbally destroying her? Face it, Stan, you're just mad because I'm the brains if this operation."

"Brains?" Craig repeated, raising an eyebrow. "I'd argue you're the ass of this operation." Kenny snickered and nudged Craig's shoulder.

Cartman ignored them, waving a dismissive hand as he marched ahead. "You losers can make all the jokes you want, but when people hear about our success, we're gonna be rolling in cash. And you'll all owe it to me!"

Tweek let out a nervous chuckle. "I still can't believe any of t-this. Like... Ghosts? R-Real ghosts?" He glanced at you, his eyes wide. "Did you hear her say 'thank you' at the end? Or was I just hallucinating?"

"I heard it too. She seemed... Less scary in the end. Almost peaceful." You shrugged, offering him a small smile.

"Nah, I think you're both just schizophrenic." Cartman interrupted.

"Peaceful?" Clyde repeated, his voice still shaky. "She was about to kill us five minutes ago!"

"Yeah, well, maybe that's because Cartman kept calling her Master Splinter or something." You shot back with a grin.

"It was the teenage mutant ninja turtles you fucking bitch! Get it right next time!" Cartman snapped.

He spun on his heel, pointing an accusing finger at you. "And don't act like you didn't touch the music box! If anything, this is all your fault!"

"Yeah, yeah." You rolled your eyes. "And who was it that ran straight to her grave and banished her? Oh, right, me."

The tension eased slightly as the mansion came into view. The warm glow of the windows was oddly comforting after the chilling events that had just happened moments ago.

As you stepped inside, the old couple was waiting in the hall, their expressions curious but calm.

"Ah, you're back!" The old woman clasped her hands together. "We were wondering if you left already."

"Left?" Kyle repeated, his eyes wide and voice surprised. "How did you not hear what was happening out there? The screaming? The running? The lights flickering?"

The old man raised an eyebrow, his face wrinkling into a suspicious frown. "Screaming? Flickering lights? What are you talking about?"

Cartman groaned, slapping his forehead. "Of course you didn't hear it. You were too busy sipping tea while we were out there risking our lives!"

The old woman's expression softened, her gaze darting between you all. "Well, whatever happened, it seems you even managed to get rid of her. The house feels... Lighter now. Thank you."

She reached into her purse and pulled out a small envelope. "Here's the other $100 we agreed on. And..." She hesitated, glancing at her husband, who nodded reluctantly. "Here's an extra $50 for your trouble. You've truly done us service."

Cartman snatched the envelope before anyone else could, grinning ear to ear. "See? I told you we'd get paid! This is what happens when you follow my lead."

"Dude, you did nothing." Stan crossed his arms.

"Nothing? Nothing?!" Cartman barked, waving the envelope in Stan's face. "Who do you think convinced them to pay us extra? My charisma! My leadership! My-"

"Your massive ego?" Craig interrupted.

"That too." Kenny added with a snicker.

The old couple exchanged a glance, clearly unsure of what to make of your group. "Well..." The old man cleared his throat. "We'll leave you to it. Thank you again for your help."

As they disappeared into the kitchen, Cartman turned to the rest of you, his grin widening. "You guys realize what this means, right? We're gonna be rich. This ghost hunting gig is our ticket to the big league!"

"I don't know if I'd call almost dying a gig." You sighed, shaking your head.

You pushed the heavy wooden doors open, walking outside as the cold night air hit your skin once more. The rest of the group followed along, walking back to your van.

"But it was kinda fun." Clyde admitted, a small smile forming onto his face. "I mean, terrifying, but... Fun?"

"Exactly!" Cartman exclaimed. "This is just the beginning. We're gonna take this town by storm! Ghosts, demons, you name it, we'll hunt it!"

"Please don't tell me you're serious." Kyle groaned.

"Dead serious." Cartman replied bluntly, his expression even more stern now.

Kenny leaned against the side of the van, his hands shoved into his pockets. "So, uh... Raisins?"

★yoyomiko ★miko

[hoursofreading]

In terms of trying to actively promote depth in your life, start putting on your calendar some appointments with yourself to do deep work. Go a couple weeks out and treat those appointments like you would a doctor's appointment or a meeting with an investor. If someone tries to schedule something during that time, you say, "No, I'm busy from one to three, but here's when I'm available." People understand the semantics around the meetings and appointments. They're willing to work around it. You don't have to explain why. Start with a moderate amount, say three or four hours a week. Have it on the calendar. Have it protected. And during those prescheduled times, maintain the zero-tolerance distraction policy. During those times, not a glance at the internet, not a glance at the phone. The second thing is, take some step to start gaining back cognitive fitness. Most people are not willing, for example, to just blanket quit social media; but I would suggest a couple things. One, take social media applications off your phone. I've had a lot of people who say, "I can give you 19 reasons why I have to use social media, why it's so important in my life," and then they do this experiment where they take it off their phone so it becomes 10 percent more difficult to log in to Facebook or Twitter. They stop using it altogether. They realize, "Okay, wait a second. Maybe I was telling all these stories about the key role it plays in my life, and why I always have to be looking at it, but once I added just a slight impediment, I stopped using it altogether." I think it helps sort of reassess the value, but more importantly, you take the addictive aspects out of the service while still maintaining your access to the information or other value that you get out of it. The third thing I would recommend is starting to schedule the time you do novel, distracting, stimulating things. You could schedule lots of times, but it should be scheduled times. Maybe after work, you say, "From 8 to 10, I'm going to break out the laptop and just go nuts, no holds barred. Social media, whatever. But until 8, none of it." Or, "Okay, at work, I'm going to check my email, check on all of this at this time, this time, this time, this time." All the other times in between, even if you feel like you want to do it, you don't. This is all about just practicing that muscle of "I want stimuli, and I said no." Even if you've scheduled 25 blocks during the day when you're going to look at stimuli, that still gives you 25 blocks between those times where you're going to feel like you want to check stimuli and you say no. Every time you do that, that's helping to break the Pavlovian connection. That's usually how I get people started. Get it on the calendar, start cleaning up your cognitive fitness.

Cal Newport on taking your life back from technology - Vox

[delopsia]

What about lewis's characters as cam boys? 🍑

Now, this is a real find 👀alright, it'll be good for the economy Contains: Rhett Abbott, Bob Floyd, Miles Miller, Jordan Weaver, Harrison Knott and Major Major

Rhett is the biggest slut on the site. He's best known for riding his favorite toys in an empty pasture or hurriedly fisting his cock in the front seat of his truck, but he's not above taking requests or playing with sponsored toys in his bedroom. He's the most active out of the bunch, taking advantage of his high sex drive to entertain everybody.

Aaaalways has that damn cowboy hat on; it's very rare to see him without it, and those chaps?? Fan favorite. He's been known to play up the whole cowboy thing, intentionally using Western slang, and he's practically trademarked the concept of riding toys/pretending his fleshlight is someone riding him.

Sometimes, if he's feeling horny and adventurous, he'll even ask his partner to come in and dominate him. Those are always a hell of an experience. You're the one that controls what they see of you, Rhett leaves those reins in your hands in your hands alone. If you want to hide yourself, then that's okay with him, but if you want your face right next to his, then have at it! He's thrilled to let everyone know what's his and who he belongs to.

Bob only films while wearing a little black mask. Everyone thought he was being quirky during the pandemic, but he simply can't film without it. His viewers can always tell when he's enjoying himself because those wireframes perched on his nose start getting all foggy. Stutters when he reads the live chat and visibly becomes red when someone suggests something even remotely dirty.

He's very, very vanilla, prefers to entertain folks who want to see him play with his cock, but every once in a blue moon, he'll treat everyone to the sight of him fucking himself on a thick toy. Always uses the fleshy/realistic ones, determined to make it look as real as he can get it. He plays into viewer requests very easily, if he sees someone ask him to reach down and play with his balls, then hey, that's what he's doing!

He'll let his partner join in if they want to, but it 1) takes him forever to tell you about this particular career choice (he's mortified about putting it into words) and 2) his viewers aren't going to see very much of you. Like he doesn't want them to see anything more than your hand on his cock; he's possessive like that.

Miles? The sweetest thing to ever grace a camera. Thigh-high stockings, plaid skirts, pastel pink and baby blue toys. He loves feeling comfy and cozy when he's intimate; everything has to be perfect and fit his chosen aesthetic! Such high production value for a man who's too shy to look into a camera. Please don't ask him to read the chat; he'll burn into oblivion.

Probably one of the most vocal out of the bunch. He doesn't say a whole lot, but he'll lay there in his bed, whimpering and mewling like it's the last thing he'll ever do. Is also very well known for how shaky he can get when he's close; it's such an obvious tell that his audience can guess when he'll cum.

He starts out solo, but it very quickly becomes something that Miles likes doing with his partner. He's just a little guy; please fuck his poor little ass until he's begging you to stop, spank him, ride him to the point of tears streaming down his pretty face, spit on him, pull his hair, and make him say something dirty to the viewers.

Jordan puts on a show. Like he's the only one of the boys who is gonna twirl himself around on a pole and put on a little performance before the fun starts. Has been known for the occasional workout tease live stream and fucking a toy in the bathroom after. He's got the widest variety of toys, fantasy dildos, fucking machines, brightly colored cock sleeves. Jordan is the guy to try anything and everything at least once.

He intentionally plays himself off as a dumb, air-headed twenty-something, and that makes it very easy to lure in donations. Some folks think they're paying enough to pressure or trick him into doing something they want, but they don't realize they're playing right into his hand.

Jordan is also the most on and off about letting you come on camera with him. Some days he wants to hide you from their greedy eyes, some he doesn't care, but he also loves having the spotlight on himself. It's a conflicting thing, but if you really want to join, then all you've got to do is remind him of the spike in donations that come in when he's got someone else to play with.

Harrison is...truly something. He knows that his viewers are there to oggle at his body, and he plays into that a lot. Tight-fitting clothes, filming right after a workout when he knows his muscles are still hot and swollen. He's even got an Amazon wishlist full of stuff that his viewers send him to wear.

Like Bob, he's got a preference to focus on his cock and occasionally his nipples, but sometimes he'll get into a mood where he'll finger himself while he jerks his cock in that big fist of his. Whatever he's doing, he's always in lighting and angles that compliment his build, biting his lip and looking into the camera like he's beckoning the viewer to come and do whatever they please to him.

If you're on camera with him, then he isn't even paying attention to the viewers. He. Does. Not. Care. What. They. Want, he cares about what you're doing, and that's it. Probably the most intimate out of all of them, fucking you exactly how he would in private or even letting you take control and split him open on that pink dildo that's been sitting in the corner of all his videos...did you know that he kicks his left leg when he's getting fucked?

Major Major is the biggest tease known to man. Strips for certain donation goals, says he'll use a certain toy when they hit a marker, but then turns around and entirely forgets once he gets there. He's a frustrating little guy, but he's got a charm to him that keeps reeling new folks in.

When he does follow through with it, it's a sight to behold, though. He babbles so much, regardless of what he's doing; his viewers got him to climb in his car's backseat and fuck his ass on a toy once, and it was on the front page for weeks. Mindlessly yammering about how worried he was that someone would see him, how this was a bad idea, but oh, oh, that feels good.

You know what it is he's doing, but if you want to join, then you'll have to ask because he practically forgets about it the moment the livestream ends. His content doesn't really change; he's still just as babbly, except this time, he has someone who will talk back to him and give him a bigger reason to ramble.

[sibsteria]

Could I lie with you?

Frank Ending?

The Beginning

“Frank…”

“What!” You looked at Ray like he was crazy, your heart beating a little harder at his accusation, is it hot in here? It’s definitely hot in here. Your cheeks turn red as you swallow.

“Don’t act stupid with me, have you seen how he looks at you? You are the only girl in his world, he cares for you more than anything else.” You didn’t think so….

“I don’t know…I mean, I can’t lie- I have thought about it-“ A lot, you thought about it, a lot.

“Y/n…it’s clear as day. Don’t kid yourself.” You sigh at his words, maybe..it was Frank but he would never like you back.

“It…he doesn’t like me that way- he’s just a flirty person, I guarantee you that.”

“Bullshit!” Ray laughs, face palming, rubbing his forehead.

The more you think, the more you notice it. The stolen glances he would give you- but he was just checking in on you, wasn’t he? The way you two would swap smoke together, spending the night as if there was no one else in the world. How pretty he looked doing the most simplest things, how his fingers would please his guitar with ease, how his tongue looked peeking out of his mouth in concentration. The pet names- oh god, who are you even kidding. The soft touches he would give you, the way he would get quiet when you mentioned a boy- the protectiveness.

“Fuck…” You whisper, Ray’s hand coming on too of your own.

“Tell him. How you feel.” He nods at you as you look up, gesturing to Frank’s house.

“I swear to God, Ray- if you are wrong-“ You start to lecture.

“I’m not.” He was so sure of it.

You hid him a goodbye and receive your good luck before walking up Frank’s drive, your palms sweating more and more as you reach the door. You pause, gripping the handle, is this a good idea?

You turn it, stepping inside the house, you find Frank on his couch, putting on your favourite movie you watched when you were upset.

“Frank.” There’s something in the air as you speak, Frank can’t quite figure out what it is, but the way you are looking at him makes his heart race.

“Hey, you okay?” His eyes softened at you, patting the space next to him. You don’t speak for a moment, should you just say it?

“It’s you.” You step closer to him, he looks like he’s waiting for you to carry on, “It’s always been you, Frank, I don’t know how I didn’t see it sooner-“ his breath hitches as you speak, “fuck Mikey, fuck Patrick, fuck ‘em all. I love you Frank, I always have.” he’s silent, too stunned to speaks.

You swallow down the lump in your throat as you wait impatiently, did you make a mistake?

“Say something, please-“ He stands up, practically running over to where you were, you barely have time to make sense of it all before his lips are on yours.

You lose yourself in his kiss, letting his lips wipe away all of your thoughts, he guides you forward until your back hits the wall, softly. Your hands wind in his hair, tugging on it a little as he presses disorderly bites and kisses down your neck, his hands squeeze around your hips.

“I love you.” He whispers, lips touching the curve of your ear, his warm breath making your skin itch for him. He takes your earlobe into his mouth, sucking on it and giving it a little nip, you moan and arch into him- tingles flood your neck and trickle down your back.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

It was a little awkward the next day, Ray walking in the house whilst you and Frank lay naked and intertwined on the couch- nothing but a blanket covering you both which had slipped down during the night. Neither of you had woken up yet, a blissful relaxation on your faces as Frank found home with his head in you neck as he lay on top of you.

Mikey didn’t take the news well at first, actively avoiding you until you had to play a show. Slowly, week after week- he got over it, never fully though, he would say. When you guys played at Warped Tour you got a little concerned at just how much he slept around- but that wasn’t your place.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

You decided to get married pretty quickly, you relationship was fast and progressive- everyone finding something to complain about.

“Aren’t you a little young to get married?”

“You’re probably gonna’ end up divorced.”

“What a disaster this will be!”

A music video for The Jetset Life Is Gonna Kill You told it all- a faux wedding scene just as the bridge hit-

Pull the plug

A 40s themed video, complimentary to The Ghost of You- a scene of marriage between two young lovers (played by you and Frank), you were swept around the dance floor, giggling and gazing into your lover’s eyes as you celebrated your union.

But I’d like to learn your name

The rest of the band dressed up as the groomsmen, you had even included some fans for the background extras.

When holding on

The two kissed in the middle of the period accurate dance floor.

Oh, I hope you do the same

The fans were utterly crazy, confused, questioning. Was this a hard launch for your relationship? Yes, yes it was.

Aw, Sugar

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

To this day, you stay married, even having three children, with his sex drive you are surprised you didn’t have more.

Gerard had the idea for your killjoy characters to have a relationship, as a throwback to your Revenge days, tragically you died in his arms and Frank found it hard not to imagine how real it could be- upsetting himself on set.

How lucky you got.

(a/n should I do an extra, detailing their first night together? 🤩🫦)

[lennadanvers]

Seven Minutes in Hell

Uni Student!Eddie x Asexual!Reader

A/N: One day left of the Ace Week and I finally finished this (kinda sorta, in the way that I can't and I won't keep adding to it, or editing it or rewriting it). I'm completely burned out, my back hurts and I lowkey hate how this turned out- there's so much dialogue and I read it so many times I just think it's bad now. However, since I put so much effort into it, and since I want Eddie to be with an ace reader, I'm posting it anyway. Please be nice, because I've been in a crisis for over a week and I will cry if you're mean. Also, this is terribly long compared with my usual works. Idk.

NOTE: The Reader is asexual. No, there is no use of the word "asexual" here, because it's not needed for a character to be ace. No, the Reader doesn't explain/teach to others what it means to be ace- they just voice their boundaries. Asexual is someone who feels little to no sexual attraction (and you can use it either as an umbrella term or a micro label- please investigate more if you feel like it! It's a very interesting topic and you can learn a lot!). Being asexual doesn't equal to being aromantic: an asexual can still feel romantic attraction. Also, asexuality looks different for everybody- some aces may be okay with kissing but not sex, for example. This Reader isn't okay with either. I hope you enjoy the fic! Happy Ace Week!!

Okay, this was a very bad idea and you should have realized sooner.

In your defense, life this far from your hometown is… different. Lonely. In Hawkins, everyone knew everyone. You had a safety net all the time. Maybe you weren’t friends with everybody- but you were friendly with most, at least.

Here, on the other hand, you are alone. Big city, small-town girl… a sad combination. You’re barely learning how to survive. None of the skills you had acquired at home are useful here. For God’s sake, you can’t even bike to the store- you have to take the subway.

One good thing about the city, though, is the variety. When you first came here, the thing that seemed the most exiting was how open people were about themselves.

They’re just not that friendly, though. No in a deeper level, at least. They are, however, very active. Lots of parties, concerts, bars and nights out. The girls in your dorm are unable to sleep during the night, apparently.

And if you want to fit in with them, you have to at least attend a party once in a while.

That’s what brought you here. You start to question if it’s worth it, though, when Lindsay- redhead, loud, flirty Lindsay- grabs you by the waist and starts dragging you across the room. She’s nice, but she’s… different. She goes out with a different boy every Friday, and brings another one to her dorm room every Saturday. It’s really not your business, and it seems to make her happy, so you simply steer away from her business.

It's not that it bothers you. You just don’t get it. Well, not in practice. In theory, it makes sense. But when you picture yourself in her place… It’s uncomfortable. Weird. Foreign. You’re happy she’s happy this way- it’s just not for you.

She doesn’t feel the same way.

You see the circle of people too late, take too long to come up with an excuse; and before you can stop her, she’s announced you’re playing Seven Minutes in Heaven.

You’ve never taken part in things like this. Never wanted to. Now everyone is looking at you, and you’re just too uncomfortable to run away, even if what you want the most is to disappear. Lindsay goes over the rules. You look around for a way out. Maybe a fire alarm will be waiting for you.

That’s when you see him. A curious pair of puppy eyes, a wild mane of hair and an unmistakable rockstar vibe.

Eddie Munson.

This has to be a nightmare. You remember him from Hawkins High- how could you not? He was always so loud an opinionated, so funny and charming, so… So different from everyone else. It was hard not to notice him in the hallways, but that wasn’t the reason you were always looking for him. See, he had- still has, now that you’re face to face again- something that draws you to him. Something in his smile, in the way he moves his hands, so confident, so in display, like the world is a stage and he’s the main character.

And you’ve always felt like the audience, an external observer, the witness to other people’s stories.

Until now, that Eddie Munson is in the same city- the same party, the same room, the same group of people- as you, far away from the hellhole that is Hawkins. Until now, that he’s staring at you, just as surprised, but a little less terrified. Until now, that Eddie looks like he’s expecting something from you. You’re sure your clueless expression is what makes him smile shily and look down at the floor, where an empty beer bottle points straight at you.

Dread washes over you as people start to cheer. Eddie chuckles and stands up. Lindsay grabs you by the arm- who knew that a girl this petite could be so strong? – and drags you to an empty closet.

Only when the door slams behind you, muffling out the music and noise from the party, you realize what happened.

You’re alone, in the dark, with Eddie Munson.

Trapped in a tiny space for the next eternity (seven minutes). And he’s cute, taller than you remember, and he smells nice. And he’s probably expecting something from you. Something like a kiss. Or more.

And you, for the love of God, do not want a kiss. You want him to be pretty and funny and at a safe distance from you.

The silence is overwhelming, his breathing too close for your liking. That’s the only excuse you can find for what you blurt out next.

“I absolutely do not wanna kiss you!”

The silence turns heavier. You press your hands against your mouth, but it’s too late. Maybe it’s a good thing it’s dark in the tiny closet, because at least he can’t see your horrified face. You hear a scoff and what sound like his feet shuffling to the side.

“Of course you don’t. You’re way too out of my reach, yeah? Were you hoping to be paired up with one of those pretty boys?”

His voice is harsh.

You had seen him argue with Jason Carver before. You had seen him mad, frustrated and mocking. None of those times did he sound quite like this. Never had such an edge. If the lights were on, you worry you’d see a sparkle of hurt in his eyes.

Maybe that’s why you start to explain yourself, panic taking over.

“No! No, that’s… That’s not what I meant at all! I just do not wanna kiss!”

Eddie’s laugh is sarcastic and dark.

“Yeah, I figured that much. Well, guess what? I didn’t wanna kiss you either!”

He sounds angrier now. It’s easy to picture him with his arms crossed.

“Really?”

When the only reply is silence, you know you should have shut the hell up. Or at least you could have tried to not sound so relieved. You cringe.

“Wait, that’s not what I meant either. I-”

“Listen, I have no intention of kissing someone who doesn’t want to kiss me. So why don’t we just wait in silence until the time is up?”

You remember his frown when the jocks made fun of him at gym class. Eddie looked miserable half of the time at school. Now he’s left school, moved away from Hawkins, and you’re making him miserable all over again. Even if you really don’t mean to.

The guilt makes you start whispering.

“Anyone. Ever. I don’t want to kiss anyone. Not now. Certainly not any of them. It’s just that Lindsay forced me to play! I didn’t even want to be here in the first place. Trust me, Eddie, if I wanted to be locked in a tiny closet with any guy at this party it would be you, but I don’t! I just really, really don’t want a kiss- I don’t want anyone to touch me, actually… I’m sorry- I bet you wanted to have fun here and I ended up ruining your chance. Listen, I’ll just walk out of here and tell them I feel sick or something, and they’ll have to give you another chance-”

Before you get the chance to embarrass yourself further, Eddie interrupts you.

“Hey, hey, wait a second there.”

You can feel his eyes on you. That’s the only thing that stops you from yapping to death. You wait, but he takes too long to speak.

“I’m sorry if you thought-”

“I never wanted to make you uncomfortable!”

He cuts your apology short yet again.

“I just thought… I recognized you. From Hawkins. Class of ’89, right? I remember you. I just…”

Eddie clears his throat. You take a deep breath because he sounds softer now. He starts talking again and it’s like listening to a cartoon character- fast and disorganized. Cute.

“I just… I thought you were kinda pretty- back then! You were always smiling, and you used to carry around some of my favorite books. I- it’s not like I like you, I… It’s-it’s been a long time, and… I saw you in here. And you look just as beautiful, you know? I’m never lucky like this. Then the bottle landed on you- I thought I had a chance, after all the years of pini- It’s okay, though, I understand! I bet you have better things to worry about, huh? I bet you’re busy publishing novels or something, right? I remember your poem, the one you read on the talent show- I really liked it!”

Somewhere between pretty and beautiful, Eddie started leaning against the wall. His shoulder is warm against yours. You really don’t mean to, but a giggle escapes you.

“Oh, and now it’s me who can’t shut up. I really should have learned by now. I always end up getting in trouble like this. Do you think I could finish all the oxygen here if I keep talking? I could die of suffocation. That would save me the embarrassment of having to see your face when your friend opens the door. Would you do me a favor and forget any of this happened? I really don’t want you to remember how much of a loser I am...”

You’re laughing now. Eddie’s head thumps against the wall next to you and you decide to stop him.

“I’m sorry, but there’s no way. I don’t think I can forget how you think I’m pretty and beautiful…”

Eddie is groaning, and probably shaking his head too- his hair tickles the side of your arm.

“Also, if you died of suffocation now you wouldn’t know that I thought you were pretty too. Back then, I mean. Oh, and you were never a loser. I always thought you were very smart- with all the ways you found to get back at Carver and his clique. Also, it’d be a shame to deprive the world of your music! I remember you at the talent show too.”

His voice sounds muffled. Is he hiding his face in his hands?

“Stop making fun of me!”

It’s not an accusation. It’s whinier and more playful. It helps you relax a little.

“Are you kidding? I’d never make fun of you! I’ve actually always liked you, Eddie.”

You’d swear his breath just hitched.

“Are you serious?”

Lucky you, the darkness won’t let him see the way you’re blushing. You shrug, trying to look nonchalant even if he doesn’t see you.

“Well, yeah.”

He’s quiet for a moment.

“Listen, I think we started with the wrong foot here. Why don’t we… Would you like to… I don’t know, maybe sometime we could-”

A beam of blinding light and awfully loud music interrupts him.

Oh, God.

“Time’s up, lovebirds! Ooh, look at you! Girl, you’re red as a cherry! What were you guys up to, all cozy in here?”

Lindsay is smiling at you, and you want to disappear again. You don’t dare take a look at Eddie; you just push past her, out into the party. You just want to get away. You need to get out of this house; out of the city, maybe- run away from the stupidity.

Stupid Lindsay.

Stupid game.

Stupid kisses.

Stupid expectations.

Stupid yo-

Someone takes a hold of your wrist and brings your escape to an end. Shit.

“Hey, hold on! Wait up!”

You really don’t want to turn around. You really, really don’t want to see his round, starry eyes up this close. You really, really, really don’t want to know how far you’ve embarrassed yourself in front of Eddie. No, you want to pretend you never saw him here. No, the last time you saw Eddie Munson was graduation. He was happy, had that stupidly cute smile of his, and then you never heard anything from him-

“Hey, I’m sorry- oh, God, you said you didn’t want to be touched. I’m sorry!”

He lets go of your wrist as if it was hurting him. His voice is a little too loud now that you’re out of the house. But it’s still gentle and nervous. You take a deep breath and turn around. At least you can’t make this worse, can you?

“I didn’t mean it that way, Eddie.”

“You didn’t…? Oh! Oh, no, you didn’t! No, I see, I- I know. Okay!”

Eddie closes his eyes and scrunches his nose, his head falling backwards. It’s a cute face, even if he looks completely humiliated right now. Something that makes no sense to you.

“Listen, I… Would you like to hang out sometime?”

It’s a simple question. That doesn’t stop you from blinking three times before replying with another question.

“Are you asking me out on a date?”

Eddie’s eyes open like a cartoon character’s.

“Shit! You don’t do that either? I’m really sorry. Fuck, I’m an asshole, and I should leave you alone. I’m so sorry. I promise you’ll never see me again…!”

In his rush to give you space, he ends up tripping over his own feet and falling on his ass. You try to catch him by the arm, but he’s too heavy and you end up falling too.

It’s the straw that breaks the camel’s back.

A laugh makes its way out of your chest and it’s impossible to stop it.

“Oh, God…! Are you… okay, Eddie?”

He’s staring at you as if you were crazy. Fair, because you probably are.

“I didn’t mean to laugh,” but you’re still laughing, “I’m sorry. I guess we’re both sorry, huh?”

The giggles keep coming out.

“Yes… I’d like to hang out sometime.”

His head snaps to you.

“Really?”

You do your best to get the laugh under control.

“Really.”

“Okay, then.”

Now he’s taking your hand and lifting you to your feet. It’s a simple movement, fast and soft; but not faster than your ability to blush. At least you’re not laughing anymore. Eddie is closer now than he was in the closet, his chin a couple inches away from your eyes. He smells like wood and blankets: warm and cozy. It’s easy to forget the party behind you, the loud music and cold air disappearing into his eyes.

“So… No kisses, then? Of any kind? Or is it like touching?”

You find yourself whispering too.

“Just no kisses on the mouth.”

“Great.”

Suddenly, coming to this stupid party doesn’t seem that terrible of an idea, because Eddie Munson is kissing your forehead. And it’s ridiculous, silly and amazing. He’s also blushing, eyes crinkling at the sides and a round, shy smile reflecting yours.

“Just so you know, that counts as our first kiss.”

“First? That implies more than one. Someone’s very confident.”

“Well, the night is young and you look like you have some time to spare. What do you say we get out of here? I could introduce you to the best milkshakes in the city.”

“…I’d actually love that.”

This time it’s you who grabs his hand. Eddie grins, and he looks just like the boy who stood on tables back at Hawkins High: young, brave, ready for adventure.

“I shall show thee the path, milady.”

He bows and you laugh. Walking away from the party and the rest of the world is easy. Comfortable. Natural. The way heaven must feel like, if you had to describe it.

[iskratempestmadness]

If you take request, what would the Baki men do with a significant other that did a different sport? Like ice skating, softball, volleyball, or maybe gymnastics, something like that. (I also really love your work so far❤️)

Okay, let's go

Baki:

- he's happy for you. I think he would like someone who is as passionate about his business as he is.

- if you study at home (if possible ) One minute he's training, the next he's training with you. He makes the most of it. He learns from you, despite the discipline you practice.

- regarding training outside the home... He won't be present at all (sometimes for good reasons, sometimes he's just too lazy to go), but he will periodically bring you a snack.

- HOWEVER, HE IS PRESENT AT ALL YOUR PERFORMANCES (unless of course he has a fight at this time)

- despite the fact that Baki is quite gentle in nature, however, he will make sure that you are more disciplined. Training at a set time, diet, early risers.

- in case of failure at the competition, he will find the strength to motivate you to give you the strength to continue training (he knows how important it is)

Hanayama:

- neutral... Well , like OK , he just took this information into account and that 's it

- but he will buy you gifts related to your hobby. If you play basketball, he'll buy you new sneakers or something... In general, he will express his interest financially

- he will watch programs about your sports, performances at tournaments. In general, this boy will try to ensure that you have something to chat about with him

- from the previous paragraph, it can be concluded that Hana immerses himself in your activities when he has time. He can even practice with you if you want.

- He really supports you, it's just that his support is on another level, it's a little deeper than words

- he may attend training several times, but don't get him wrong, as I said before, he is a busy person, but he really tries to be present

- it's the same story with competitions, he's present at some, but just look at him. He doesn't show himself clearly, but he literally exudes pride when you win.

- he is not the best at comforting you in case of loss, but he definitely feels your emotions and will try to give you a motivational speech, but he will be better able to calm you down with touches

Katsumi:

- Oh, he's interested

- he would like your dynamics, like he

- tell him about what you do. Tell him everything from the important things to the little things. (unlike Hanayama, who tries to find out everything himself, Katsumi prefers to find out everything from your mouth)

- and he's super supportive of you. Right at 100%

- he will study with you at home. He will also maintain discipline, as will Baki. (But Katsumi is more forgiving)

- he rarely attends training sessions (he is also a busy person), but he comes to all matches.

- he shouts at you from the stands, he will make a float... It's all about him. Of course it's great, but sometimes... Firstly, it becomes absurd, and secondly, it is sometimes a distraction.

- if you lose, he will do everything so that you do not abandon yourself and continue to train.

- a lot of gifts from knitted with your sport

Jack:

- he also easily accepted the information

- he thinks it's great that you have a hobby... And that's all, he doesn't attach much importance to it, just because everyone should have a hobby, if that's how you prefer to spend your time, then fine. And there is a benefit and you are passionate about something

-but if you ask him, he'll practice with you. At first, he treats it neutrally, but later he will get used to it. (it will probably become a ritual, you will get up at the same time, then warm up, jog, workout for about an hour and work together

- he also monitors your discipline. Jack should know how important she is.

- he also doesn't come to your training sessions. However, it happens at almost all your competitions.

- he will probably give a little motivational speech before the competition

- look at him after you win. He's proud, he's really proud of you. He won't shout about it, but a look at him will be enough to understand how he feels.

- but if you lose... Then he will give you another motivational speech, and you will have no other option but to continue studying

Retsu:

- he is also interested,

- will he train with you? Naturally. He believes that this way of spending time is more useful.

- HE WILL GIVE YOU A MASSAGE AFTER TRAINING. Trust me, you won't regret it, he was extremely good at it, and it instantly relieves tension from the muscles.

"HE'LL ALSO COOK YOU SOMETHING DELICIOUS AFTER YOUR WORKOUT." Something nutritious and delicious, the very thing after a workout, he knows exactly what you need

- there are also a lot of gifts related to your sport

- he rarely goes to training outside the house, but he is present at ALL competitions.

- and he's super supportive of you, but he's not to the point of absurdity. Perhaps he will shout out something supportive, but no more.

- and he's ABSOLUTELY proud of you.

- (in honor of winning the competition, he will cook you a festive dinner)

Shibukawa:

- I'm glad for you. Well, it's really great that you're passionate about something.

- he will train with you at home, of course. For him, this is another way to have fun while away the time

- the same will come up with a snack for you after training (probably tea and a sandwich)

- however, unlike others, he demands to repay him (not with money), like he trains with you, repay him the same, he will gladly teach you aiki

- discipline? Well, maybe he's not really watching it, but he'll make sure to put you to sleep or wake you up.

- it rarely happens outside the house during training, you can say it doesn't happen at all.

- but he comes to all competitions (he's super supportive)

- it is also possible to give you a massage after training.

[kokomos]

❀ 𝗔 𝗦𝗨𝗡𝗗𝗔𝗬 𝗞𝗜𝗡𝗗 𝗢𝗙 𝗟𝗢𝗩𝗘

joel miller relationship headcanons

+ He's the kind of man who always opens the door for you, it sounds basic at first until you realize how far it goes. He'll be shocked to hear you took the garbage out when he wasn't home, that's his job! And you shouldn't be dealing with the bugs either, he'll do the dirty work for you.

+ Wakes up before you so he always has breakfast done by the time you're up, he tries to make sure every meal he serves you has as much nutrition as he can manage to provide in the given conditions.

+ Has a habit of checking your temperature near constantly. Love makes him turn into a big worrier, he can't help but feel like he's gonna lose you.

  - "You sure you're feeling okay, baby?"

+ Really likes it when you sit on his lap, he'd be feeling up on your body like crazy. Hands all over your hips, rubbing the side of your thighs as he traces absentmindedly with his fingers.

+ When you're out in public, it's the same story of his hand on the small of your back or an innocent hand on your thigh. Touching you makes him feel so comfortable wherever you guys are.

+ He's got such big hands, he adores watching you play with his fingers.

+ Also really enjoys when you feel him up, he'll feel so good about himself if you squeeze his muscles or rub your hands up and down his chest.

+ Definitely likes to play with your hair, doesn't matter if it's long or short, straight or curly, he's already tangling his fingers in it.

+ Sleeps with you either on his chest or with you as the little spoon. He views the night as the most unsafe time of the day, claiming most crimes happen when it's dark out. He's right but you should reassure him the both of you (and Ellie) are safe in Jackson.

+ Volunteers for patrol if he knows you're signing up that week. If you're going outside the walls he's gonna be right by your side, simple as that.

+ God forbid you get hurt while you're out there, he'll be a mess rushing you back to Jackson and straight to the med center.

+ It doesn't matter how minor the injury is, after he knows you're okay he's on his way to Tommy's where he practically forbids him from letting you patrol for the next month.

+ He's so soft when he's taking care of you, rubbing your hands and peppering them with kisses. This doesn't mean you can escape the scolding that's to be expected when you start feeling better, it's inevitable with him.

  - "You gotta be more careful, baby, I don't wanna lose you."

+ Definitely the type of boyfriend who wants to join you in the shower. Not for sexual reasons most of the time, he really enjoys the act of washing your hair and having you wash his. Likes to wash your body too if you're in the mood, he'll kiss up and down your arms until he reaches your neck.

+ Loves when you initiate physical affection first! It makes him so giddy on the inside like a teenager falling in love for the first time.

+ Kisses on the forehead are mandatory with him. It's so simple but it makes him feel even closer to you.

+ In regards to Ellie, he'd prefer you to keep some distance with her until your relationship starts to get more serious. The last thing he wants is another person leaving her behind.

+ Ellie plays a huge part in your relationship. In the sense that she matters a lot to Joel and what she says goes. It's a smart idea to suck up to her if she doesn't warm up to you/get along with you from the start.

+ At first she'd be unhappy with the idea of Joel dating, she thought it'd just be the two of them and she struggles coming to terms with the fact you're becoming a part of their lives at least for the time being.

+ Things change in your relationship with Ellie when you return from a patrol with some piece of space memorabilia found in the ruins of a museum you deemed 'close enough'. It's at that point she realizes how much you're actively trying to build a friendship with her, and she treasures that sentiment more than the gift itself.

+ After that, Ellie starts asking you to hang out with her, specifically to join in on her favorite (peaceful) pastime of reading comics. She'll give you the ones she's already read to help guide you while she answers every and any question you ask. She's really passionate when she talks about the characters and it makes her super proud if you compliment her knowledge on the subject.

+ Seeing you and Ellie getting along gives Joel such security in your relationship and the future he wants to share with the two of you.

+ Obviously he's not a big talker, but this man does not communicate his feelings. If there's a problem, you have to confront him or else he's just gonna ignore it and move on.

+ When you try to get him to talk about how he feels he'll never not try to brush it off in the hopes you'll leave it alone.

  - "Please not the 'communication is key' speech again, sweetheart, spare me."

+ Get him while he's sleepy! He'll be too tired to put up a fight so he'll give in and tell you whatever you wanna know.

+ On some evenings when you're together, he'll put music on and dance with you in the kitchen while dinner finishes cooking.

+ Chores with him are actually so fun. As he's grown older, he's begun to appreciate the little things in life like doing laundry with you. He'll never take the peace for granted after everything.

+ And sometimes when you two embrace, he almost forgets about the Hell outside and all the horrid things he's seen and done; in the moment all he can think about is you.

— ♡☆

[vitaminseetarot]

PAC Pick a Song - What About You Currently Shines Brightest?

Sup y'all, I'm back in time for the start of Leo season with another pick a card reading! The full moon is coming right up and I will likely do a reading for that as well very shortly, but I already had this done the other day and wanted to get it finally posted after much delay!

Below here are three cards to choose from belonging to the now-obsolete board game DropMix. It was a game connected to an app now unfortunately no longer in service, but it allowed the game to play by having chips in the cards activate a code that would send to a phone app to tally points as well as play music. You could pile the different cards together on a jockey board based on color and basically create your own remixes. You could play or make freestyle music. My basic pack has as many cards as the minor arcana + 4, so I thought these would be fun to bring out and work with for the partygoing Leo energy that's budding this late summer.

1, 2, 3

Pile 1. The Weeknd - Can't Feel My Face

Cards: Baroness (Fire, Leo); "I am in touch with my purpose and passion in life"; 7 of Swords, XIX Sun, XVIII Moon

(Okay just a quick note I just gotta let u know that I eventually plan to paint over the Sun card for my only RWS-esque deck because the smiley face creeps me out lol so I put a tiny candle over its haunting face. The Sun is supposed to be a positive card dangit!)

Anyway back to your reading! Right off the bat I feel like you're gonna be shining bright this season no matter how you personally feel about summer, get in the mood and live it up! Light that bonfire. Jump in the pile of autumn leaves. Tap into your senses in the most innocent and playful way. I feel like you shine brightly when you get excited about literally anything in your life, it could be a new brand of coffee or new pair of jeans or something but people like how you react to things. Reminds me of Youtubers who have these funny but authentic personalities as they review random products or whatever.

I feel like you can get so in love with something that you kinda, as the song suggests, "go numb" and let everything else fizzle away from your focus. But the thing to remember is that all those other things are still there even if they don't light you up. It's all about learning to find the sweet spot between really enjoying the moment and being in flow with the best of things while also attending to the gritty details. It doesn't mean you should "go numb" in the other direction by only focusing on practical things. When I see Sun and Moon in the same three card reading I am reminded of Temperance because you're trying to balance two different energies together that are ultimately meant to work together. Manifestation+work, joy+catharsis, reason+instinct, yeah? It's a lot to seesaw back and forth every day but 7 of swords tells me that you find ingenious ways to pull it off. Don't let the shyness snuff the light out, and don't let the egoic sense of duty override your needs.

If you feel like sometimes you have to sneak away to find time to enjoy what makes you shine from the inside, I'm getting guidance for the collective to simply learn how to share a little bit of what you're doing while balancing it with the part of you that wants to protect your creative ideas and work on them. Again, there's a message here about balance. You don't have to spill everything about your life to the first person who asks, but at the same time there will be people who benefit from your fiery energy. Your interests and talents deserve to take up some space, pile 1. I think this pile just shines in general even if you're not always aware of it, even if it's incredibly subtle. It's in the little things.

⊱ ──── {.⋅ ♫ ⋅.} ─── ⊰⊱ ──── {.⋅ ♫ ⋅.} ─── ⊰⊱ ──── {.⋅ ♫ ⋅.} ─── ⊰

Pile 2. Evanescence - Bring Me to Life

Shield (Fire, Sagittarius); "I attract relationship in harmony with my authentic self"; 5 of Cups, 10 of Pentacles, 9 of Pentacles

This pile could be going through some awakening period right now. I know, I know, it may sound cliché with "wake me up inside" as the lyrics, but it occurred to me that the Shield in your card is like this old energy that has been barricading you from material experiences. Like this is a pile who's really already been in the thick of the brambles and is wanting to come out. The Sagittarius arrow sign is in my mind like a flare set off from deep in the woods as if to say, "hey! I'm over here, come find me!" It's being let off in the sky in the hopes of rekindling some sort of lost connection to something, could be a person or to a certain goal. You currently shine brightest when it comes to relating to others, and seeking out positive relationships.

It could be that you've gone through some disrupting experiences that have encouraged you to wall off to self heal. This may have taken a long period of time to work through. I feel that you're moving into a part of the thicket where more light is pouring in from the outside, that you're near the end of a long isolating tunnel. You're entering a phase of your life where you're ready to have connections that feel more solid and real, rather than fairweather friendships. You're looking for sustainability, for people to have some sense of loyalty with. People with whom you can truly enjoy the abundance of life. The main issue is that grief and isolation can becomes habits that we may need to temper with in order to allow the new. Forgive yourself when you still feel the need to retreat even as you begin to stand out more. Depending on how long it's been, it can be quite an adjustment.

Maybe abundance is coming a little slow here, as the green color here is blocky. But it's rich like emerald, so once it's found, things will transform in your life radically. It's saying that even if you identify as an introvert, there is still "treasure" to be found in building new relationships. It could be totally virtual. But you shine from making the most out of the opportunities that your current or as of yet undiscovered relationships have to offer. You have a lot to offer others as well. I do get a strong teaching role from this pile. Maybe you've thought about going into teaching. I think your students would see you as sensitive and resourceful.

⊱ ──── {.⋅ ♫ ⋅.} ─── ⊰⊱ ──── {.⋅ ♫ ⋅.} ─── ⊰⊱ ──── {.⋅ ♫ ⋅.} ─── ⊰

Pile 3. LMFAO - Sexy and I Know It

Marigold (Water, Scorpio); "I am wise and wonderful"; 6 of Pentacles, 2 of Pentacles, 10 of Cups

Your reading is so clear to me, you shine brightest when you are fully present in the moment and loving what you're doing and who you're being. I don't think this pile likes to waste any time lol. I think you've had some hard experiences that have taught you how to value the time and resources you have, especially when you give this energy way generously. And I get the sense that you're learning how to manage both the philanthropy side of things with the personal fulfillment side. You're learning that one does not necessarily require the sacrifice of another. Compromise, maybe, but not at a net loss. You can give without overextending the hand, you can seek out bliss in life without taking it away from others.

This is not a common trait to shine in, pile 3. It's a mature place to shine, but not always easy to develop. It's required a lot from you right from the beginning. There were probably some things you had to let go to make it all work before. But it doesn't always have to be that way. Your ability to rise above the situation, brush the dust off your coat and move forward is what makes you shine. Although I'll say this: even if it looks like all is going well, you're still allowed to feel whatever grief is stored up inside you. It's part of moving past it in order to make the most out of the present.

Some of these experiences may have had something to do with your sense of confidence, your body image, how your present yourself to others, self-expression, and I'm also getting pretty privilege as a topic. Self worth over buying the right kind of things too… I think you're letting your hair down finally. You're letting some outdated ideas about your image go, you shine when you declare yourself to be beautiful and sexy "just because". Why does there need to be a reason? Some people might tell you that you, in particular, aren't "allowed" to feel good in your own skin and clothes. Some may get threatened by your confidence. But it's because that's where you shine and it's up to them to adjust their vision. Tell em to make an optometrist appointment if they can't handle seeing your presentation.

⊱ ──── {.⋅ ♫ ⋅.} ─── ⊰⊱ ──── {.⋅ ♫ ⋅.} ─── ⊰⊱ ──── {.⋅ ♫ ⋅.} ─── ⊰

This reading has not been evaluated by the FDA to diagnose, prevent, treat, or cure any disease or infection. Please ask your physician before going online.

2023, Vitaminsee Tarot ™

[huckleberrykai]

berry🤭🤭 I've been thinking a lot about newlywed husband hyuka lately:(

I can't seem to find a good way to put this thought into words but ughhhhhh husband hyuka is consuming my mind

i just realised i like never put warnings on thoughts / inbox stuff so ima start doing that 😭 minors dni! idk what happened here but husband!hyuka unlocked the breeding kink hdksals if ur not into that my apologies 🫡

oh my gODDD I LOVE LOVE LOVE THIS

he's just so obsessed with you - he was when you were his girlfriend, then his fiancee, but something about you finally being married, being legally his wife... he's on a whole other level of obsession.

he buys you all of the silly newlywed items, like a robe that says 'huening' on the back and a mug that says 'wifey' and loses his mind whenever he sees you using them. he tries to be as good of a husband to you as possible, being so domestic and loving... always touching you... meaning ~

new husband hyuka who CANNOT keep his hands off of you <3

not just in a sexual way, no no. kai literally just wants to hold you from the second you're pronounced married and all of the wedding stress is over. he could care less about the reception, the party, the people although he still has a great time and taehyun makes one HELL of a best man speech. his hands are always on you~ your waist, your butt, your feet when he rubs them for you after your shoes have been hurting all day - he doesn't care as long as he's near you <3

when you get to your honeymoon destination best believe he cranks the clingy husband vibes up to the MAX. his new favourite activity is holding your hand and playing with your wedding ring ~ it grounds him and reminds him that you're married, you're all his now and he's so happy :(. he's the same about his own ring too, glancing at the shiny gold band like it's the best thing in the world, only second to you. he slept on your shoulder clutching your left hand on the plane to your dream honeymoon destination (he let you choose, he didn't care where he went as long as it would just be the two of you >.<) and the second you got to your cozy hotel room ... he was fulfilling his husband duties immediately.

it only takes him 5 minutes for him to sling your luggage and his into a corner and push you onto the rose-petal-covered bed of the honeymoon suite - complementary chocolates and champagne put aside to enjoy later. he had things to do first (you LOL). here in this beautiful room he proceeds to ravish you like his life depends on it. he eats you out until you've cum on his tongue at least twice, pushing his fingers into you - specifically his ring finger so he can admire your glossy cum glistening off his ring <3

whenever you try to reach out to help him he bats you away, "pretty wifey... just stay still okay? don't worry your pretty little head about me. i'm gonna be more than satisfied okay?"

oh and he is. especially when he initiates the most sexual loving sex you've ever had, and he finds himself filling you up over and over again. he thought you'd be done after one intense round, but when you scratched at his chest begging for one more.. then one more.. he couldn't say no. eventually, you're wailing from the overstimulation and constant orgasms - crying as you feel kai fill you up yet again. by now he's so addicted to the feeling and the sight of your pretty cunt filled to the brim with his cum, leaking out around his cock and dripping onto the crisp white sheets that he just can't stop.

"'m gonna fill you up again baby... can never get enough of you, my lovely wife~ gonna make you all round with our baby one day. fill you up so good..."

he's obsessed with living the perfect domestic life with you, and the idea of knocking you up just gets him so excited. even though you aren't ready for a family yet and you're still on birth control, kai sees no harm in getting some practice in of filling up your pretty cunt until you're crying <3

"want you to be so full of me... feel my love in your tummy~ if it leaks out tell me and i'll fill you right back up princess <3"

so yeah he's a pretty good husband LOL

[afyrian]

no. 5 - cabin firekey masterlist

    “welcome to cabin firekey.. terrible name, i know! i wasn’t the one to chose it though,” you open the doors to your cabin, turning around to look at all of the kids joining you for the duration of camp.

  they all look different from each other, all intrigued by different things. a few of them hold their phones, eyes lit up with the bright blue lights. a couple of them holding their bags while dancing on the balls of their feet. you could picture yourself in them, each of them, even the one who seemingly wants nothing to do with camp.

  “as you all know, my name is y/n, and i’m your counselor. we’ll be competing in activities, hosting a talent show, and having some fun in between. i know that this isn’t everyone’s cup of tea, but i’m hoping we can enjoy ourselves,” you take in a deep breath, clasping your hands together, “so pick your bunk and we’ll get to know each other.”

  as they filter into the cabin, you look back into the woods and spot atsumu with his group. he’s already engaging them all in a discussion, expressing himself with his hands and movements. you bite your lip, wondering if this counselor thing was going to be as easy as he’s making it appear from afar.

  you turn back to your cabin, looking around to see that most of the kids had already set their things down. the couple of them that seemed excited had quickly laid out their things, styled it some, their attention on their fellow cabin mates.

  “so, i’ve already seen the names of everyone joining, but how about you give some names to the faces and a fun fact about yourself?” your heart rate quickens as you see all of them looking over at you. 

  the looks on their faces practically scream that they’re all socially nervous, hoping for someone else to start the conversation, “uh, we can start with me.. i used to come to this camp when i was your age. i actually met a lot of my good friends here. mmh i also really like to play video games, so if this stuff isn’t your cup of tea, i’m always good to talk about that.”

  being welcoming was the only way you could think to get them involved. to bring about a side of them that they wouldn’t normally show to others, which is why you loved this camp. slowly, the girls all started to get out of their shells some. like amaya who joined the camp so her parents would buy her a new computer part. or kaida who wants to work in wilderness conservation, paired with her twin kaori who loves theater. 

  it slowly brought smiles to most of their faces, a few still stubborn.. and honestly, you couldn’t help but feel overjoyed that even if it’s your first day, it’s a better week than you could imagine. at least, it has been going well, now all you need for the perfect day is a great dinner. 

  “okay, tonight, the only thing on our agenda is dinner. they’ll have a few options for dietary needs, so please let the servers know if you need anything specifically,” you grab your phone and stuff it into your pocket, standing by the door, “and you can sit wherever. if you know someone from another group, feel free to say hi.”

  “could we sit with you?” hanae, one of the shyer girls, raises her hand slightly, pursing her lips.

  you nod immediately, “for sure, i’ll probably see some of my friends, but yeah, plus you guys can help think of some filler activities between the main stuff.”

  this seemed to make some of the kids a bit more confident, walking down the path together with a pip in their step. you subconsciously look towards where atsumu’s cabin is again, him and his group already gone from their area. almost instantly, you look back forward, scolding yourself for even wondering what he would be up to. you don’t care, you probably shouldn’t care.

  especially when he likely doesn’t even take a peek in your direction, unknowingly setting off a chain reaction of emotions within you-

  “y/n!” a voice comes from your right, the noise of someone running up to you forcing your head to look at the person.

  all you can see is a tuff of blonde hair as someone wraps their arms around you. however, the feeling of the short-stature automatically makes you know that it’s the nishinoya. “noya! i would’ve assumed you would already be at the mess hall.”

  “nah the dudes ended up wanting to catch some bugs so we lost track of time- but can you believe atsumu is here? the balls on that dude,” he shakes his head, completely ignoring the many younger kids surrounding the two of you. 

  you laugh some, shaking your head, “i can’t stop him from being a camp counselor here, and neither can you. besides he doesn’t even remember me! so trust me when i say that it’s not balls.”

  nishinoya bumps into you some, his two left feet unable to walk straight on the narrow dirt path. every little thing starts to help you remember things from camp that you never would’ve thought of. the two of you trekking through the trees, him constantly bumping into you cause he leans when he walks. his voice loud and quick, always making the conversation feel shorter than it is.

  “okay.. but i could fuck him up if need be!”

  “dude don’t you have like ten year olds in your group? and no, don’t even think about it. i will get my revenge when and if the time is right, young noya,” you bow a little, acting as if he’s your padawan. 

  he shrugs his shoulders, eyes clearly now focused on the mess hall. his mind switching between the conversation at hand and the mouth-watering food that the both of you could remember osamu making. you smile to yourself, trying to listen as he discusses some talent show thing his group wants to do. 

taglist (open): @lemurzsquad, @froyaoya, @localgaytrainwreck a/n: noya’s here!! i love writing him and hope you guys like it too

[fictionthorn]

SFW Alphabet: Gale

CW/TW: None Word Count: 1.1k

Activities - What are their favorite things to do with you? How do you spend your free time?

One of Gale’s favorite things to do with you is practice magic. Whether that be teaching you different spells if you’re not a magic user or just general practice if you are.

He also likes to read with you and talk about what the two of you are reading.

Boo! - How do they feel about surprises, giving and receiving?

He likes surprises as long as they’re not too often. That goes for both giving and receiving.

Comfort - How do they comfort you when you’re upset? When the tables turn, do they come to you, or do they try to handle it themselves?

It makes Gale’s heart ache when he sees you upset. He’ll do whatever you need him to do to feel better. If you just need to talk it out and vent then he’s there to listen. If you need someone to hold you while you cry then his arms are always open.

When he’s upset he’ll try to handle it himself so he doesn’t make you worry. The only problem with that is you can read him like a book. All it takes is one hug from you for him to open up and accept your comfort.

Dance - Do they like to dance with you? How good of a dancer are they?

He’s always happy to dance with you even if he isn’t the best at it.

Excitement - How do they act when they’re excited? What excites them?

Gale is the type of person where when he gets excited about something he starts talking fast.

There’s a lot that excites him but mostly things having to do with magic or whatever topic he’s hyper fixated on at the moment.

Future - What are their plans for the future? Do they see themselves getting married, having kids?

He knows he wants to marry you and spend the rest of his life with you at his side.

Kids are something that he’s very unsure about. He doesn’t think he has what it takes to be a good father, but he also knows he has the potential to change his mind.

Gifts - What do they give you as presents? How often do they get you gifts?

He tries not to give you gifts too often because he wants them to always be special.

He likes to give you magical artifacts as gifts. Mostly because he knows you like them and that they can be useful, but it’s also his way of trying to repay you for all the artifacts you gave to him when he was dealing with the Netherese Orb.

Hold - How do they hold you? Cuddling, sleeping, holding hands…

He likes to hold your hand as much as you’ll let him. He also likes when you lean against him or rest your head on his shoulder.

Ideal - What’s their ideal date like?

His ideal date is going for an evening walk around Waterdeep and possibly going shopping for some books.

Jealousy - Do they get jealous easily? How do they handle it?

He does his best not to get jealous, but there are a few times where his insecurities get the best of him. Even though he knows you love him there’s a small part of him that still worries you’ll find someone better.

Kisses - How do they like to kiss you? How frequently do you kiss?

When Gale kisses you he always wants to make sure you know you have his full attention and that you feel his love in the kiss.

He will kiss you often.

Love - How do they show you that they love you?

Gale shows his love by being attentive. When you talk to him you have his full attention and he pays attention to your body language to make sure you’re okay.

Melt - What do you do that absolutely makes them melt?

You play with his hair when the two of you are relaxing together.

Nicknames - What do they call you, and what are their favorite things to be called?

Gale likes to call you baby most of the time but there are times when he’ll opt for calling you my angel.

He likes when you call him sweetheart.

Obvious - How obvious do they make it that they like you?

He is extremely obvious about his feelings for you from the start.

Pets - Do they have pets? Do they want them?

He has Tara and the two of you adopt Scratch.

Quiet - How are the calm, quiet moments with them?

Calm, quiet moments are some of Gale’s favorite moments with you. They usually happen in the evenings while the two of you are reading together by the fire with Tara laying in between you.

Romance - How romantic are they? What are their go-to ways of being romantic?

He has always thought of himself as a romantic and he’s a fan of big, romantic gestures.

Safe - What makes them feel safe and comfortable around you?

Your kindness and willingness to help him, even when he was a literal ticking time bomb.

Tend - How do they act when you’re hurt or sick, and vice versa?

He’s a wizard. If you are hurt or sick he’ll find a spell to make it better.

He can also do the same for himself but he does like it when you offer to take care of him.

Unique - What’s an unusual thing about them that’s oddly charming?

The markings left behind from the Netherese Orb. You always thought it made him look unique.

Variety - Do they prefer to keep things the same, or spice it up?

He is all for spicing things up and trying new things with you.

Wash - What’s it like taking a bath with them, or helping them wash up after a fight?

He always appreciates when you offer to help him wash up after a fight. It gives him an excuse to be close to you and spend more time with you.

XO - How do they show you affection? How much PDA are they willing to show?

He doesn’t mind a bit of PDA. Usually it’s hand holding or having an arm around you.

Yearn - What do they do when they miss you?

When Gale misses you he likes to read your favorite book since it reminds him of you.

Zzz - How do they act when they get sleepy? How is it sleeping in the same bed?

Gale is the type of person that won’t go to bed without you. If you’re still up he’ll end up falling asleep on the sofa until you wake him up to actually go to bed.

When in bed Gale always sleeps with an arm around you, holding you close to him.

[eternal-echoes]

I wonder if a lot of Christian witches in this website started playing around with demonic magic because the Christianity they were taught was rote and mundane, so they try to look to foreign religions for a sense of mysticism. They probably weren’t taught about Eucharistic adoration and just went along with Christian traditions in a robotic routine so they didn’t think to go to Christianity to quench their thirst for spirituality by reverently worshipping in the Mass and admiring the beauty of the Biblical imagery in churches built in medieval period. They weren’t adequately taught about the mysticism of prayer so to answer that tug that says materialism is wrongheaded, they went to occultism, tarot card readings, and black arts.

Kinda like how there are communist Catholics and white nationalists Catholics. They were probably only taught that the only political stance that the Catholic Church stands for is anti-abortion and anti-gay marriage not the political writings of Pope Leo XIII and St. Thomas Aquinas on the role of the government so they think it’s okay to be a communist Catholic and white nationalist Catholic. They didn’t think that the Catholic Church having the fullness of Truth would also have teachings on the proper earthly ruling in a way that is conducive to man's salvation so instead they thought political ideology and religious truth as separate rather than having the teachings of the Catholic Church shape their entire worldview.

It’s sometimes unavoidable to be cafeteria Catholics when we’ve only been fed little bits of Catholicism in small packages rather than the whole buffet. Granted, spiritual growth doesn’t take a day and sometimes the Holy Spirit can only spoon feed to us the truth so we can eventually learn more the full picture of the Catholic Social teaching and priests can only fit so much in a homily every Sunday but we can at least start by saying that the Catholic Church has the fullness of truth, she transcends all political ideology that every man has ever thought of and whatever doubts you have about the Faith she has the answer in the treasury of her wisdom so that can at least lead to the search for truth. Not everyone is into politics but anyone who is inclined to law has a duty to be an advocate for Catholic philosophy in that regard. Likewise, Christian witches would be better taught about the mysticism in contemplative practices within some religious orders for the sake of their salvation since their natural inclination for deeper spirituality has been disorderly led to pagan religions.

But even then, we can’t always look for that feeling of mysticism to feel God. Because in His silence is when He is the most active in our lives. Despite feeling of hopelessness we always have to remind ourselves that God is there because He is omniscient.