#saying that I'm not at university for eight hours a day. that I spend most of my time laying on my bed 'playing games'

[david-watts]

gonna kill myself in the most violent way possible

[hoseokhasmyheartxx]

Nothing's Changed | MYG

*Pairing: Yoongi x f!Reader *Word Count: 7.4k I'M SORRY 😳 *Genre: friends to lovers, "only one bed" trope, some angst, fluff, non-idol au, fake dating (ish) au *Warnings: NSFW SMUT, MINORS DNI. alcohol consumption, brief mention of parent death, piv sex, unprotected sex (be smart, you perverts), oral (f receiving), nipple play, a bit of overstimulation if you squint, Yoongi has dirty thoughts frequently, reader has to be convinced kinda, i dunno what else to say except good luck reading this nonsense *Summary: You and Yoongi have been best friends since college. The rest of your friend group wants to go on a couples' trip, leaving you and Yoongi to share a room. But to your surprise, your room only has one bed... will the two of you be able to get through the week without letting the other know how you feel? *A/N: welp, i'm sorry in advance for how long this "drabble" turned out to be. after Yoongi's live yesterday i had way too much motivation and it was just total word vomit inspiration. happy birthday to our gorgeous cat boy! 🐱

Main Masterlist

Eight years ago, you were spending most nights in the study area of your university’s library. The building was empty aside from the few other students scattered around the area, seemingly studying for finals just as you were. You had been sitting at a table at the edge of the room for the last three hours, papers strewn everywhere and your calculus book laid open on the table, head in your hands, feeling entirely defeated. Working the same problem for the last thirty minutes still hadn’t changed your answer, and it was still wrong. You sighed, about to give up for the night, when you heard the sound of a chair scrape against the carpet to your left. Looking up, you saw a familiar face, one you hadn’t spoken to before, but familiar all the same. 

Min Yoongi. He was taking the same calculus class as you, and from what you assumed based on the posted class averages over the last few months, he was the one who had been basically floating the entire class thus far. You (and the rest of your class) had barely managed to earn passing grades on every exam you’d taken so far, except for Yoongi. He, on the other hand, had aced everything. You didn’t think there had been one exam that he’d scored less than a 95 on, and it frustrated you. How could calculus come so easy to him, when the rest of you were barely treading water?

“You look desperate. Need some help?” Yoongi asked as he sat in the chair next to you. He looked over at you expectantly, resting his elbows on the table, the thumb and index finger of one hand holding up his chin. 

“Actually, yes. I am so lost. There’s no way I’m gonna pass this class,” you responded, sighing. He turned your textbook to face him, scanning the page to see what you were working on. He laughed softly to himself, pushing his hair behind his ear before he looked back up at you.

“Okay, no problem. I’m done studying for this class already. We still have two days until our final, right? I got you,” he said confidently, his gummy smile peeking at you. He reached for your notebook, eyes skimming the pages in front of him. A minute later, he tapped the page. “I see the problem.”

Yoongi spent the next two hours tirelessly explaining everywhere (yes, multiple spots) you had gone wrong. Things were slowly starting to click, the gears in your head finally spinning in the right direction. Occasionally, they still got stuck, but he was doing a really good job of helping you to unstick them.

“We should call it a night. If you study too hard, you won’t remember anything we just did. Meet me tomorrow night at six at the dining hall if you want more help,” Yoongi said as he stood, packing his things back into his backpack. 

“The dining hall? That’s a really loud place to study,” you responded, a look of utter confusion painting your face.

“We’re not gonna study at the dining hall, dummy. We are, however, gonna have dinner before we come back to the library. You’re buying,” he said with a laugh as he turned and walked away.

The next night, after a quick dinner that was less awkward than you’d expected, you and Yoongi spent another three hours at the library, heads buried deep in your calculus textbook once again. At the end of your study session, you finally felt confident enough to take your final exam the following morning. And it was all thanks to Min Yoongi.

Your friendship blossomed after those late night study sessions. Although you didn’t have classes together anymore when your calculus class ended, you still managed to spend at least a few nights every week together. Sometimes you sat in his living room watching trashy reality tv (which he hated), other times you would cook together (which, let’s be real, more often than not led to Yoongi getting frustrated with your lack of cooking ability and finishing it himself while you watched). He had even dragged you to a few basketball games, much to your dismay since you didn’t particularly like sports. But you loved spending time with him, and seeing him get excited when his team was winning was worth the potential boredom for you.

The two of you basically grew up together. You had met when you were only twenty-two, about to graduate college, and now you were both pushing thirty. You both had fairly successful careers in your chosen fields (music production for him, finance for you), and you had been through more than your fair share of struggles together. You were the one who was there for him when his long term relationship fell apart, and he was the one who talked you off the ledge when you lost your mother almost immediately after. Being roommates with Yoongi made these hardships easier. Neither of you were alone when you were at your worst, you always had someone to turn to when you needed a distraction or a shoulder to cry on. After eight years of friendship, and four years of living together, you were certain that the two of you were platonic soulmates. 

The friend group you’d collected over the years had slowly become your family. Yoongi brought two of his childhood friends, Hobi and Jimin, along with his coworkers Namjoon and Taehyung, into your circle, and you’d accepted them all like they were your long-lost brothers. Three of them eventually married, growing your friend group even more because you had built-in female friends in their wives. Your best friend since birth, Seo-Jun, loved Yoongi just the same as you did. But, she loved Taehyung even more. You weren’t even the slightest bit surprised when they got together. This left you and Yoongi as the only ones left in your group who hadn’t married yet. But, at only thirty, neither of you cared too much about that. You were still enjoying your youth. Things were just easier when you weren’t tied down, having to worry about another person when making all your decisions. You could just be.

Both your and Yoongi’s lack of a romantic partner is what made you being roommates so simple. Unfortunately, this had been the downfall of his last relationship. The woman he was so sure about, but whom he wasn’t quite ready to marry, refused to accept that you were his best friend. She slowly worked her way into every part of his life, only to give him an ultimatum of moving out of your shared apartment and into hers and ending your friendship, or losing her altogether. Yoongi came to you for advice, but you couldn’t tell him what to do. You just wanted him to be happy, even if that meant losing him. You told him just that, even though it pained you to do so. He left that conversation and came back that evening, brokenhearted over the loss of who he thought was meant for him. You, on the other hand, had never had a long term relationship. You had dated people, certainly, but none had ever panned out for one reason or another. Most of the time it ended because of (so-called) unrealistic expectations on your end, or an obvious fear of being with a powerful woman on their end. Men didn’t appreciate the hard work you put into your career in finance, and were threatened by your independence and hard-charging nature. Ultimately, the two of you had made peace with the fact that maybe you were just meant to do life on your own, supporting and loving each other the way only best friends could. Your lack of romantic partners is also why the thing your friend group proposed one afternoon was comically shocking.

“A… couples’ trip,” Yoongi repeated, eyebrows furrowed in confusion. He looked over at you, noticing the way your entire body was shaking as you tried to control your laughter. 

“Listen. We know the two of you don’t have partners. But the rest of us really want to go on this trip together, and the resort will give us a group rate if we book five rooms!” Taehyung explained.

“It’s a really good discount. You guys already share an apartment. Why can’t you share a room for a week?” Seo-Jun asked, blinking up at you sweetly, trying her hardest to get her way. That tactic worked on Taehyung, but you weren’t sure why she expected it to work on you.

“It’s at a couples’ resort. It specifically says ‘couples only.’ We’d be found out so fast. No way could Yoon and I pass as a couple,” you told her, still laughing as you scrolled through the website Seo-Jun had sent to you.

“Please, just think about it! It’ll be fun. You guys don’t have to spend the entire week together. All you have to do is just share the room,” Namjoon’s wife, Ji-Ho, chimed in.

It was obvious that all of your friends really wanted you to agree to this bizarre plan. You could use a vacation, but the thought of having to pretend to be in a relationship with Min Yoongi? That would never work. What happened next shocked you even more than the original proposal.

“I’m down for it. As long as the room has two beds, because there’s no way I’m sharing a bed with her,” Yoongi finally said. Looking over at you, he added, “I’ve seen you starfished on your own bed too many times. No thank you.”

You feigned offense, placing your hand over your chest with a fake gasp on your face. He laughed, eyes scrunching closed in signature Yoongi fashion, shoving your shoulder playfully. You sighed, knowing you had to say yes now. 

“Okay, fine. We’re in,” you answered. Your answer was immediately met with squeals of excitement from the girls, a hug from Seo-Jun, and excited high fives amongst the guys. Amidst the chaos, you glanced over at Yoongi, seeing a small smile on his face that told you he was grateful for you having said yes to this insane plan.

Later that night, you were lying in bed after finishing your bedtime routine, ready to sleep, when intrusive thoughts began racing through your head. What would this “fake relationship” scenario look like? Would it be as simple as just holding Yoongi’s hand whenever you were in common areas of the resort so that staff wouldn’t catch on to your lie? What if there were couples’ activities that your friends were participating in; would you have to do those as well? The resort looked especially romantic, from what you’d seen on the website, and it made you wonder: could you do romance with Min Yoongi? What if you wanted to do romance with Min Yoongi?

You shook those thoughts off immediately, unwilling to consider anything other than what you already knew: Yoongi was nothing more than your best friend, and he would stay that way forever. You fell asleep shortly after, unbothered by your strange train of thought, reducing it to being caused by your incessant need to plan everything down to the minute, and the fact that you weren’t in control of this vacation.

At the other end of the hall, the same train of thought barged into Yoongi’s head, as if you had transferred your thoughts directly to him. However, his replies to himself were slightly different. He knew exactly how to survive this “couples’ week” with you. But one thing worried him more than anything else. What if he played up this fake romance too much and exposed himself? Would your friendship ever recover if his feelings for you came out? The anxiety kept him up most of the night, tossing and turning, wondering if this vacation was a good idea after all.

—

Two months later, your group of ten was scattered across a plane, sitting in pairs, heading to Mexico for your much anticipated vacation. The flight was short, only three hours, and you had had a particularly exhausting week at the office, so you planned to catch up on some sleep so you could arrive refreshed and ready to make the most of your week away. You were seated with Yoongi, of course, and before you knew it, you were nodding off, eyes closing slowly as you fell asleep, head resting against the window of the airplane. 

Yoongi’s breath caught in his chest as your head fell onto his shoulder. You were clearly in a deep sleep; he didn’t mind you resting there. Plus, in eight years of friendship, it’s not like the two of you hadn’t fallen asleep together a few times before. But every time it happened, his body reacted the same way. Hitched breathing, tensed muscles, fluttering heart rate. Somehow, you had never noticed, and he was thankful for that. He couldn’t stomach the thought of scaring you away if you ever found out.

The flight went smoothly, and just as soon as you had fallen asleep, you were being shaken awake by your best friend. “Hey. We’re here, get up!” he exclaimed.

You blinked a few times, trying to wake yourself up. The plane was already half empty, passengers trickling down the aisle with their belongings. You moved to grab your bag from under your seat, but Yoongi had the same idea. The side of your head smacked against his forehead, eliciting a loud groan from him.

“Seriously? We just got here and you’re already being mean to me. We’ll definitely pass for a couple,” he remarked, voice dripping with sarcasm. You rolled your eyes at him, knowing full well that he was just teasing you. You grabbed your bag with a huff of remorse, smiling at him after that.

Bags finally obtained, you left your seats and exited the airplane, joining your group at baggage claim. Three of the couples already had their suitcases, but the luggage was still coming out, so it wouldn’t be long until the rest of you were able to retrieve your own bags. Once your bags arrived, your group headed toward the arrivals hall, searching for the driver who would be waiting for you.

The resort you were staying at prided itself on “all-inclusive service from arrival to departure,” which meant that you were picked up from the airport upon arrival, driven to the resort, where you would be bathed in luxury for the entirety of your stay, and then driven back to the airport on the day of your departure. This ensured that none of you would have to lift a finger the whole week. Everything was included in your booking, from food and drinks (even most alcohol), to daily scheduled activities and even off-resort trips. At check-in, each “couple” (said lightly, since you and Yoongi weren’t really a couple) received their room keys and a printout of the week’s events. The rest of your group went first, leaving you and Yoongi to check in last.

“And finally, Mr. and Mrs. Min. Here are your keys and this week’s schedule. We hope you enjoy your stay with us, and please don’t hesitate to come to us for anything you may need this week,” the receptionist said warmly.

Yoongi looked over at you standing next to him, gauging how well you were playing your part. You smiled at him, a small glint of affection in your eyes. He smiled back at you, glad that the receptionist’s belief that you were married didn’t seem to bother you. There was nothing else he needed in this world if it meant you’d smile at him that way every day.

Once the check-in process was finished, you and your friends gathered together, comparing room locations. The resort had informed you when you first booked your trip that even though you’d booked your rooms with a group rate, that didn’t guarantee you’d all be staying near each other. This turned out to be true; all of your rooms were spread out across the resort, except for the rooms assigned to Namjoon and Taehyung and their wives. The four of them had rooms directly across from each other. 

“Alright everyone. Let’s go get settled in and check everything out. We can meet back up for dinner, say around seven?” Jimin asked. Everyone agreed and the group parted ways, leaving you and Yoongi alone to find your room on the small map given to you by the front desk.

Your room wasn’t too far from the lobby. On the way there, you passed a large pool with a swim-up bar, a basketball court (which excited Yoongi, as expected), and a gym that looked to be pretty well equipped with various exercise machines and plenty of floor space for individual workouts. Following the path out of the central area and around the backside of the resort, you were greeted by a sweeping expanse of ocean. You stopped in your tracks, eyes lit up, not believing what you were seeing. After all, you didn’t live close to the beach, and had only seen the ocean a few times before in your life. The ones you’d been to were nothing compared to the view in front of you. The water was crystal clear, a vibrant shade of turquoise as far as you could see.

“C’mon, you goon. It’s just the ocean,” Yoongi said from up ahead, pulling you out of your daze. You rolled your eyes at him once again, following him along the path to get to your room. He was several steps ahead of you, arriving at the door of your room quickly, while you were still meandering along the path to catch up to him, finding it hard to concentrate on anything except the beautiful ocean to your left. You watched him as he used his key to unlock the door, opening it and walking through the entryway. You caught up to him soon after, entering the room yourself, but you were stopped by the sudden force of walking directly into Yoongi’s back, throwing you back a bit.

“What’s your problem?” you asked, smacking his shoulder blade lightly.

He turned to face you, replying with, “Not my problem. Our problem.” With that he pointed to the inside of your room. You looked over his shoulder to see exactly what he was referring to.

One king-sized bed was staring you straight in the face from the center of the room.

“Oh,” you let out, a look of surprise spreading across your face. 

“It’s okay. I’ll take care of it,” Yoongi reassured you as he stepped around you and walked back out the door. You were left standing alone in the room after that, not wanting to move to avoid messing up the room for the housekeeping staff who would inevitably come to check out the room after the two of you were switched to the correct room type.

Ten minutes passed before you heard the click of the door unlocking behind you. Yoongi walked in with a defeated look in his eyes. He sighed, smiling at you gently.

“Do you want the good news or the bad news first?”

“Yoon, just stop. Did you get it fixed?” you replied, an exasperated puff of air leaving your lips.

“Well, no. I didn’t. Apparently this is one of their busiest weeks and they just don’t have another room to switch us to. They said the rooms with two beds were reserved only for handicapped guests needing accessible accommodations,” Yoongi explained.

“So, what you’re saying is that we have to spend the next week somehow sharing a bed. What could possibly be the ‘good news’ in this situation?” you asked him, your tone of voice raising to a shrill whine.

“The good news is that they gave us a voucher for fifty percent off dinner at their premium restaurant. But yes, we are gonna have to share the bed,” Yoongi finished.

You sighed, a look of absolute terror on your face. In all the years the two of you had been friends, you had never shared a bed. Sure, you’d fallen asleep together during a movie on your couch many times, or like earlier on the plane, but actually sharing a bed? No. The thought had never crossed your mind. That was a level of intimacy that you never wanted, afraid of how it could turn out. You knew you moved around a lot in your sleep. What if you tried to cuddle him in your sleep? Or worse, what if you tried to cuddle him and he rejected you? You shook your head, trying to clear your mind.

“Uh… you alright? It’s honestly not a big deal to me. It’s just sleeping,” Yoongi said with a shrug of his shoulders, hand running through his hair.

“Um, yeah, sorry. Yeah, I’m good. No big deal,” you stuttered, trying not to sound too shaken by this new development.

“Alright then. That’s settled,” Yoongi replied enthusiastically, “what do you wanna do until we meet the others for dinner?”

“I don’t know about you, but I’m going down to the beach. We have, what, two hours?”

Before he could even answer you, you were rifling through your suitcase, pulling out one of the swimsuits you’d brought for the trip. You squeezed past Yoongi to get to the bathroom to change, taking only a minute to rid yourself of your travel clothes and swap them with the tiny blue bikini you’d bought the week before. You didn’t usually have the confidence to wear swimsuits, instead choosing to swim in shorts and a swim shirt, but hell, you were on vacation and you were going to take advantage of that. You didn’t even bother to put a coverup over your swimsuit before opening the bathroom door and returning to your suitcase to grab your sunscreen and towel.

Yoongi stopped what he was doing, not fully processing the sight in front of him. His mouth agape, he couldn’t help but to let his eyes linger on your barely clothed form across the room. He wasn’t huge on swimming, and the few times he had gone to the pool with you, you hadn’t worn anything like that before. Looking at you, dressed like that, stirred up feelings that had long since been buried in the back of his mind. He wished you had shown him this part of yourself years ago. If you had, maybe he would’ve had the courage to tell you his feelings for you.

“Hey. Earth to Yoon,” your voice rang out, fingers snapping inches from his face. He shook his head, coming back to reality. 

“Sorry. What?” he asked, rubbing the side of his face, trying to shake off the completely impure thoughts racing through his brain.

“I asked you if you can get my back,” you repeated, shaking the bottle of sunscreen out at him. He took it from you, hesitantly opening the cap and squeezing some out onto his palm. You turned around and lifted your ponytail up to give him a clean canvas to paint with the protective layer. You jumped a little as his cold hands touched your spine, feeling his fingers massage the lotion into your back. 

Yoongi bit his lip as he concentrated on making sure to cover your entire back and the rest of your shoulders that you couldn’t reach. This small, friendly action definitely wasn’t helping to ward off the impure thoughts from just a minute ago. In fact, it was only fueling them. He imagined his hands roaming elsewhere on your body, getting to touch you in places that had always been off limits to him, imagining your body writhing underneath him. These thoughts had been tormenting him for months now, which both surprised him entirely and also completely didn’t. He took a deep breath as he slipped his hand underneath the string of your bikini top to make sure he hadn’t missed any spots, then clapped both his hands on your shoulders and gently shoved you toward the door.

“All done. Now go, have fun, try not to drown,” Yoongi said with a laugh as he watched you walk out the door.

Left alone with only his own thoughts, Yoongi’s mind began to wander. What if he did tell you how he felt? The two of you had been friends for so long that he felt like it could go one of two ways. One, you’d laugh it off and tell him he was being ridiculous, and then you’d forget about it, and your friendship would remain intact. Or two, you wouldn’t be able to understand and it would cause irreparable damage to the friendship you’d been building over the last eight years. He didn’t know which option was worse, telling you and facing rejection, possibly losing the best friend he’d ever had; or not telling you, and living with the weight of his unconfessed feelings forever. This week, he’d be living in even closer quarters with you than normal, and he wasn’t sure how to get through it. But he was going to try his hardest to act like nothing was going on inside his head.

–

Seven o’clock rolled around and the two of you met up with the rest of your friends for dinner at the agreed upon restaurant. Namjoon had called ahead to make sure they could seat all ten of you together, so there was a large table toward the back of the restaurant waiting for your group when you arrived. Everyone sat down, ready to catch up and talk about how the rooms were and how they’d spent their first few hours at the resort.

“So, we have some fun news,” Yoongi said with a laugh. That got everyone’s attention, most of the group looking up from their menus to give him their full attention.

“Our room only has one bed. Yoon tried to get us switched to a different room, but there was nothing available. So, we’re stuck sharing for the week,” you explained.

An awkward silence took over the group. A few seconds passed, and suddenly, Jimin and Hobi were cracking up laughing. The rest of the table stared at them, unsure what was so funny. Yoongi, of course, knew exactly why they were laughing, but he trusted them to come up with an excuse that wouldn’t blow his cover.

“Phew. Sorry, I’m just imagining Yoongi curled up in a tiny ball while ____ spreads out across the bed the whole week,” Hobi explained, wiping a tear from the corner of his eye that had been pushed out by his laughter. Jimin nodded in agreement, but Yoongi didn’t miss the knowing look that he shot him before the subject naturally changed to everyone’s afternoon activities. You shared about your time on the beach, telling everyone how nice the water was and that you loved being able to go whenever you felt like it. Namjoon had spent his time reading, while Yoongi had played a bit of basketball. The rest of the group had just relaxed in their rooms until it was time to get ready for dinner. 

Dinner passed quickly, drinks flowing freely with everyone in full vacation mode. The ten of you always had a great time when you were together, although more often than not most of you drank more than you should, at the insistence of Jimin. Tonight was no different. Yoongi was three glasses of whiskey deep into a bottle the other guys had purchased. You and the girls were drinking fruity cocktails, yours containing more tequila than fruit. Hobi had turned completely red-faced after drinking his second drink, and the rest were drinking a combination of the whiskey and some other drinks that Jimin ordered for them. You were glad you were on vacation, because you knew you would wake up at least some degree of hungover the next morning. You spent so much time at the restaurant that your server had to come tell you that you needed to leave because it was closing time. Everyone gathered their things, talking amongst themselves about if they should move to the resort’s nightclub for a few more drinks.

“I think I’m actually gonna go back to the room for the night. I do not want to spend this entire trip vomiting from trying to keep up with Jimin,” you said as you picked up your purse, waving goodbye to the group as you walked away.

The rest of your friends walked in the opposite direction, heading to the nightclub. Yoongi and Jimin were the stragglers of the group, walking a few feet behind everyone else. Jimin nudged Yoongi with an elbow to the ribs, cocking his head to the side before he said what he’d been meaning to say all night.

“Bro, are you ever gonna tell her how you feel?”

Yoongi sputtered, unsure how to reply. He knew that Jimin knew, obviously. He had admitted it himself years ago when Jimin had questioned why he would move in with you if you didn’t share his feelings. Back then, he had tried to come up with excuses and act like he didn’t know what Jimin was talking about, but Jimin had coaxed it out of him. He was sworn to secrecy and had kept his word so far, rarely even mentioning it except for in situations like this (situations being drunk nights together when you left early and Yoongi was stuck with him, watching you leave).

“Minie, I told you. I can’t,” Yoongi replied, sighing.

“Why not?”

“I’ll ruin everything. I can’t lose her,” Yoongi answered. He was drunk, but he wasn’t stupid. He knew that telling you he was in love with you would fuck up your friendship, and that was something he could never take back once it was out in the open.

“Listen. You might think it’ll ruin everything. But I don’t think so. I’ve seen how you two are together. You’re best friends. I think you need to tell her, before you don’t have the chance anymore. I’ve been keeping this to myself for years because you asked me not to bring it up. But I just can’t keep watching you suffer when there’s a really simple solution. Just tell her,” Jimin let out in one quick response.

Yoongi stared at him, wide-eyed. He knew Jimin was right, but he never thought he’d have the courage to go through with it. Luckily for him, Jimin had just the thing to help calm his nerves. He handed Yoongi a small flask, and he took a gulp of the bitter liquid, handing it back. It was now or never.

“Good luck, man,” Jimin said, clapping him on the back and pushing him back in the direction of your shared room.

Yoongi took several deep breaths as he walked, unsure who was controlling his movements, because it sure as hell wasn’t him. He had no idea how he would even begin to get this out, but the combination of Jimin’s confidence in him, and the shot of liquid courage he’d just downed, made him feel like he could.

Before he knew it, he was using his key to enter your room. You turned around at the sound of the door shutting behind him, surprised to see him.

“What happened to everyone going to the nightclub?” you questioned, confused look on your face.

“Ah, yeah. They did. I just decided to come back early. Started feeling the liquor a little more and I knew I’d regret it if I kept drinking,” Yoongi explained, hand rubbing the back of his neck, a small smile on his lips. 

“Makes sense. That’s exactly why I didn’t go out either,” you said, laughing at the thought of your entire group stumbling back to their rooms in the dead of the night.

You continued getting ready for bed, going into the bathroom to brush your teeth. Yoongi followed you, and you scooted over for him to share the sink with you as he washed his face and brushed his teeth as well.

You left him in the bathroom, claiming the right side of the bed before he could give an opinion on which side he wanted. You curled up under the soft comforter, turning over to switch off your bedside light, deciding that sleeping facing the wall would probably be in your best interest this week. 

“Figures,” Yoongi scoffed as he shuffled his socked feet across the room to climb into bed next to you. You knew that Yoongi preferred the right side of the bed, but so did you, so it was only fair for whoever got there first to call dibs on it. You felt the bed dip down behind you as Yoongi laid down, and his light turned off seconds after. The room was quiet, only the sounds of the ceiling fan and Yoongi’s deep breathing saving you from being too restless to sleep.

Minutes passed, and you were starting to drift off when you heard Yoongi turn over onto his side. Suddenly, you felt his warm hand on your arm.

“Hey, are you still awake?”

“Yeah,” you responded quietly.

A deep, shaky breath left Yoongi’s lips, and then, “Can I talk to you about something?”

Your breath caught in your throat. In all the years you had been friends, he had never asked to talk to you about something. Any problem he had with you was always blurted out at random, which was something you admired about him. He was never afraid to speak his mind when it came to you or his other friends, so his hesitancy worried you. You rolled over to face him, feeling like whatever it was should be said face to face instead of said to your back.

“What’s up?” you asked him. The moonlight shone through the gaps of the curtains on the window across the room, illuminating his face in the otherwise dark room. You looked at him, seeing a discomfort that you rarely noticed in him. You had only seen that look in his eyes a few other times, which confused you even more. Yoongi took a few more deep breaths before beginning.

“This isn’t something I ever planned to tell you. Shit, it isn’t something I ever planned to feel at all. But I do, and I just can’t go on acting like there’s nothing going on with me. Jimin was the one who gave me the push I needed to finally tell you. But the truth is, I am so fucking in love with you. I have been since the summer after graduation. We got so close and you became my best friend, and I didn’t want to mess any of that up, so I kept it to myself for so long. But I just can’t anymore,” Yoongi breathed out, his eyes locked on yours, his hand gripping your bicep lightly.

Yoongi was met with nothing but silence. The look on your face went from confused, to shocked, to utterly terrified. You didn’t break away from his gaze, which was at least something, but you didn’t say anything either. Finally, after what felt like hours, you let out a shaky breath and opened your mouth to speak.

“Yoon,” you started, voice cracking. You knew you were on the verge of tears, but you tried your best to hold them back so you could get out what you needed to say. “I… I don’t know what to say. You’re my best friend, and I’d be lying if I said I’ve never thought about you that way, but I don’t think it’s a good idea.”

“Why not, ____? We know everything about each other. We’ve been through so much together. What could it hurt?” Yoongi pleaded, his fingers tracing along your arm lightly as he spoke.

“I just don’t want to lose you, Yoon. You’re my best friend. If it didn’t work out… I couldn’t take losing you for good,” you explained. You broke his gaze, unable to deal with looking him directly in the eye anymore. You knew you were hurting him, which was bad enough, but to see the hurt right in front of your face like that? It wasn’t something you could bear.

“____. It would be so easy. You and me, we’re like soulmates, yeah? We’ve always said that, haven’t we? I promise, we could make it work.” With that, you felt his hand run up your arm and shoulder to your face, cupping your cheek in his hand lightly, running his thumb over your skin. You stilled, eyes on him again. Your heart was racing, about to beat out of your chest. You shivered, and you hesitantly brought your hand up to rest on his waist.

“Promise me one thing, Yoon. Promise me our friendship will be okay,” you breathed out. Yoongi nodded, never breaking eye contact with you as he leaned in and softly touched his lips to yours. Your breath caught in your throat as he kissed you, feeling a heat you’d never felt before. His hand moved down to your neck, nudging your head to the side with his nose as he deepened the kiss. His tongue met yours, lazily, but hungrily. It was as though he wanted to devour you through his kiss alone. 

His hand left your neck, moving to your hip and pulling you into him. Your arm wrapped around his back, sliding your hand up to tangle in his hair. He twisted his body to push you onto your back, breaking the kiss to move down to your neck. His lips ghosted over the column of your throat, gentle, heated kisses landing on your neck and collarbone. He reached down to grab the bottom of your shirt, lifting it up and over your head. He was met with the sight of your beautiful bare torso underneath him, chest heaving as you breathed heavily, eyes locking on his. You did the same to him, pulling his shirt off and tossing it to the side. He continued his sporadic kissing, moving down to your chest until his lips settled on the bud of your left breast. Looking up at you, he hesitantly took the nipple into his mouth, tongue licking circles around it. A whine escaped your lips, and Yoongi knew then that he could listen to your sounds all night if you let him.

Your hips bucked up into him, and his breathing hitched, feeling your body against his. He reached down and hooked his thumbs into the waistband of your pajama bottoms, sliding both layers you had on down your legs until he could pull them off and savor the image of you, completely naked, reacting to his every touch. 

“Fuck, you’re beautiful,” he breathed out, hands running up your legs until they rested on your thighs. Slowly, he parted your legs, positioning himself between them. He left a few gentle kisses on your lower abdomen, tongue darting out to lick a path from your belly button down to your mound. Taking one more look up at you, and seeing your pupils blown with lust, was all the encouragement he needed as he dragged his wet tongue through your folds, teasing at your entrance before he brought it back up to circle your clit.

“Yoon..” you gasped out, one hand going to your breast, squeezing it and playing with the nipple. It was partially for you because you enjoyed the stimulation, but also for him as well, giving him a show to pay attention to as he devoured you like you were his last meal. 

You let out another loud moan as he pushed two of his fingers into your pussy, his tongue fervently lapping up your slick as he hooked his fingers just right for you to see stars. You bucked your hips against his fingers, wanting every inch of him inside of you.

“That’s it. You’re so pretty fucking yourself on my fingers,” Yoongi told you, using the other hand to push down gently on your lower stomach. The extra sensation, combined with his tongue tracing patterns through your folds, nearly sent you over the edge right then. Your moans grew more desperate, breathing becoming more erratic as he groaned into your pussy, enjoying giving you pleasure as much as you enjoyed getting it. Just then, he took your clit in between his lips, sucking gently, his fingers not stopping their consistent thrusting into you. He watched you as he took you over the edge, your orgasm ripping through you like no other. Your moans and whines spilled out, saying his name over and over as he used his tongue to help you ride it out. He only stopped when you forcefully pushed his head away from you, unable to take the overstimulation. Your entire body was weak, shaking uncontrollably underneath him. You pulled him by the arm up and over you, kissing him messily, not caring about tasting yourself on his lips.

Still kissing you, refusing to break the connection between the two of you, he reached down and clumsily pushed his sweatpants and boxers down, kicking them off his ankles onto the floor. You watched as his cock sprung free, salivating at the sight of it. Bringing himself up into the space between your thighs again, you couldn’t help yourself as you reached down and wrapped your hand around him, pumping him a few times, watching as his head fell to your shoulder, his breathing coming out in short gasps. With that, you guided him slowly to your entrance, wanting nothing more than to have him inside you at that moment.

“Yoon, please, I need you,” you whined, eyes on him as he pushed just the tip of his cock into you, going slowly to allow you time to adjust to his size. You were so wet that he slid into you with no resistance, his moans tumbling out as he bottomed out, pelvis touching yours. He raised his torso up with his forearms, kissing you as he began to slowly thrust into you. You wrapped your legs around his waist, crossing your ankles to hold them together as you held the back of his neck. You were already so sensitive from your previous orgasm that the sweet drag of his cock against your walls had you begging for more sooner than you expected. His thrusts became rougher, sending the sound of skin slapping against skin throughout the room. 

Your second orgasm already building, Yoongi reached down between you and rubbed tiny circles on your clit, pushing into you erratically. He struggled to keep a rhythm as his own release came closer, and his kisses grew sloppy as he continued rubbing his fingers gently on you. The second orgasm wasn’t as strong, but regardless, your body shook as it overpowered you, walls contracting around his cock. The new sensation set off Yoongi’s orgasm soon after. He groaned out loudly as he thrusted into you a few more times, collapsing on top of you as you both came down from your shared high. There was silence aside from your heavy breathing as he pulled out of you and laid next to you, kissing your temple as he wrapped you up in his arms. You huddled into his embrace, face resting against his chest, listening as his heart rate slowly regulated.

“Hey,” Yoongi whispered.

“Yeah?” you whispered back, afraid to move from the warmth of his arms.

“Nothing’s changed. You’re still my best friend, and I’m still in love with you,” he answered, placing a slow kiss to your forehead as he squeezed you tighter.

“I love you too, Yoongi,” you said in response, hugging him back even tighter.

You weren’t sure if this would last, or if it would even work at all, but that was a question to save for another day. Tonight, all you wanted to do was fall asleep in the arms of the man who had been there for you for eight years, the man you’d loved for half of that time. You didn’t have all the answers, but one thing you were sure about? You were so, so glad that you sucked at calculus.

[cukrkandl]

rosekiller microfic

— ace evan (my most beloved) | 821 words | cws: internalized acephobia, allonormativity, forcing yourself to have sex (nothing actually happens), very mild suggestive content

Evan stares at the tiny vial in his hands, the ever-present anxiety in his stomach growing again.

Six months of waiting for it to brew, of making excuses, of letting Barty down. And now Evan can finally be normal.

It takes him hours to find the courage to actually drink it. His brain, as always, works against him, because he doesn't want to have sex. He never had. Never will, he knows that now. That's why he had it brewing in an abandoned classroom for all those months, spending more time just staring at it than being with his actual boyfriend.

He drinks the potion thinking about Barty, how happy he'll be that Evan's finally ready. No matter how patient he's been, Evan knows he's frustrated. And horny.

The liquid makes him feel strange, and for a second, he thinks maybe he brewed it wrong, but then the feeling in his stomach just—disappears. His mind clears, and yeah, let's go find Barty. Let's do this thing.

Feeling like he has no control over his body, Evan walks to their dorm, and finds Barty sprawled in his bed. Immediately, his face brightens up, but he's not given a chance to speak before Evan kisses him.

If Barty's surprised, he recovers in record time, pulling Evan closer until he's straddling him. Evan likes this part; he knows it makes Barty want to have sex even more, but Evan enjoys this feeling. Like he's going to get consumed by it all, and he would let Barty eat him up, no questions asked. It's a different sort of closeness, and Evan craves it more than anything.

As if he could hear his thoughts, Barty breaks the kiss and bites the sensitive skin on his neck. Nothing hot about it at all, though Evan can't really be the judge of that, just something primal.

Eventually, though, it always gets uncomfortable. It stops feeling good. Barty's hands start wandering, his fingers start getting itchy, and Evan's brain makes it feel bad. It's all wrong.

Not anymore.

As Barty plants both of his hands on Evan's ass, he pulls away. Barty wants to have sex, it's easy to tell. Evan doesn't know why he's been waiting for him. He deserves better.

For just a brief second, Evan mourns his own wishes for nothing but a lot of this, for getting lost in the kisses, and then maybe cuddling, and closes his eyes, letting the Felix Felicis do the work for him.

If he has to drink it for the rest of his life to have sex—well. Maybe he'll get used to it.

But instead of giving him an answer to one of the biggest mysteries of the universe and forcing him to finally do it, the potion makes him say, "I don't want to have sex with you." And if that wasn't bad enough: "Like, ever."

Barty freezes. He looks up at Evan, carefully removing his hands from his ass, slow like he's scared Evan will implode. Honestly, he might. He was supposed to take this to his grave.

He wants to take it back, but the potion won't let him. No words come out, nothing happens, and fuck, what is Evan supposed to do now?

He can't even cry.

"Okay," Barty says.

What?

"What?"

"I said okay," Barty repeats. "I don't care."

"But you—you want to," Evan says, whining. Why isn't the potion working?

Except it is, he can feel it inside of him, but how is this luck? Disappointing your boyfriend? Denying him something he has every right to want?

But Barty just shrugs. "Can I still jerk off?"

"Wha—yeah?"

"Can I still touch you? Like what we were just doing."

"Yeah?"

"Can we still cuddle?"

"Yeah," Evan whispers, his secret wish coming back with so much force it nearly knocks him over. "You really don't mind?"

"I don't think so? I mean, I thought I couldn't live without sex, but look at me, we've been together for what, eight months now? And I'm fine. I didn't die. My hand might fall off one day, and then we'll have a problem, but I'm fine."

He looks like he's telling the truth, too, just lying there, his fingers drawing tiny circles on the back of Evan's hand. Calming him down.

Oh. Oh.

"I love you," Evan blurts out, and it's all him, no liquid luck.

Barty smirks. "You'd better."

And then he just resumes the kissing, putting his hands back on Evan's ass, except that's all there is. Evan's still trained to make himself feel bad about it, but it doesn't—it feels fine. It's just touching, nothing more looming over it, and that makes it okay.

He loses himself in the kiss, feeling so incredibly lucky.

Barty bites down on his lip, hard, and Evan lets himself be consumed. The potion inside of him stays silent. He doesn't need any more luck.

[thatuselesshuman]

Writer Questionnaire Tag

Thank you for the tag @wyked-ao3

It's always fun to do one of these lol

How long have you had your writing Tumblr/Writeblr? A fast and loose estimate is fine!

I've had a Tumblr account for about 6 months or so but I've only been a 'writeblr' for a couple months.

What led you to create it?

Idk tbh. I kinda just decided that I wanted to share my writing and it led me here.

What’s your favorite thing about the Writeblr community?

All of the creativity is amazing. I'm a whore for lore and world building, and the worlds that y'all come up with are immaculate. I could only hope to think of a world that vast and interesting.

What’s one thing you’d like your mutuals to know about you?

Please ddon't take me seriously. I've said it before and I'll say it again, but I'm not just a clown, I'm the entire circus. The day you take me too seriously (especially as an author) is the death of my whimsy.

Is there anything you’d like to see more of on your dash?

Nothing I can really think of. I'm pretty happy with how it is rn lol

WIP it Good

Which Works-in-Progress (WIPs) or writing projects are you noodling about, lately?

Bloody Hands are Kind and None of Us Heroes are always floating around. They're never not beating my ass with ideas and scenes.

How long have you been working on them?

I've been working of the series component of Bloody Hands are Kind since February, and None of Us Heroes for about 1 and a half months.

Do you remember what inspired them/what got you started?

None of Us Heroes started from the Honkai Star Rail brainworms known as Adventurine and Dr Ratio. Their designs and story inspired the two main characters of None of Us Heroes. The series component of Bloody Hands are Kind was basically me shoving a long-standing OC of mine into the Hunger Games universe and praying it would work.

How much time, in your best estimation, do you spend thinking about them?

At least a few hours a day, usually when I'm laying in bed trying to fall asleep. My array of illnesses make falling asleep hard and I find that thinking about my stories makes it easier to forget that I'm not asleep (and therefore hopefully fall asleep).

When someone asks the dreaded, “What do you write about,” question, what do you usually say?

"Whatever the voices command."

What do you want to say (if it’s different from what you do say)?

Meh I say that because I find it funny so idk if I'd change it.

Let’s Rotate Blorbos

Name any characters you created. Side characters, protagonists, antagonists, characters who’ve never been written, the first original abomination you ever pulled from your ass; whomever you’d like!

OHH LORD THIS IS GONNA BE A LONG LIST. So we got Adrian, Nova, Amarantha, Jack, Cora Beth, Ben Al-Badawi (x3), Jack Collins, William Talt, Blue, Zero, One, Two, Three, Four, Five, Six, Seven, Eight, Azrael (aka Amane), Lucifer, Achlys, Quinn Amsel, Atlas Selic, Michael, Adena, Nakir, Evangeline, Celeste, Saeko, Gabriel, Kaz Anderson, Caspian, Jyn Osaka, Nikolai Sevigny, Cyril, Kylan Whitlock, Kestrel, Leo Valandi, Anaïs, Delph, Laz (short for Lazarus), Neo, Roland, Tobias, Will, Mirwais, Simon Cruz, Conrad, James Blackthorn, Alessandra Snow, Max Foster, Benyamin Safi, Haeyun Sin, and Dante Silvestre. There are more, but I either don't care enough to write them down or I've forgotten their names.

Who’s the most unhinged?

Blue 100%. He's not human and it is not uncommon for his species to be cannibalistic. He's not, but he's still unhinged asf

Who comes the most naturally for you to write?

Max Foster. He's easy to write because me and him share a lot if similarities.

Do you ever cringe at them?

Oh definitely. A lot of my old characters are cringy.

How much control do you feel you have over your characters? AKA, do they ever “write themselves,” refuse to cooperate, or do things you didn’t expect? To what degree? Are some less cooperative than others?

Dude idk what to tell you, whenever I try and force my characters to do something I hit the biggest writer's block wall I've ever seen.

On Writeblr Engagement

Do you enjoy people asking questions about your characters? And do you have a preferred means of receiving said questions? For example, as Asks, as replies, as reblogs, as tag notes, as comments on AO3, etc.

YES YES PLEASE ASK ME!! Anyways, I don't really care how you ask (I just want you to ask lol), but if I had to pick it'd either be asks or comments on Ao3. Though ofc I still love questions in any and all forms, even if it's something like making a separate post and tagging me loll.

What makes you want to follow another Writeblr account? Do you follow ‘em as you see ‘em, or take time scoping out the blog to make sure you align with its content? Do you follow based on WIPs, or vibes?

I mostly follow people if I think their cool or if I find myself consistently liking their posts as they come across my dash. I don't follow people often tho lol. I only follow abt 20 people I think.

What makes you decide against following?

If their vibes are too negative, if they're super political, if their content doesn't align with something I care about, or if they're super anti something I am. Any combination of those could be the reason I don't follow.

Do your mutuals’ characters occupy space in your noodle?

Yes. I think about other people's WIPs and such all of the time. I love stories, what can I say?

Do you interact with non-mutuals often?

Of course! As I said, I don't follow many people so I don't have many mutuals. I love interacting with different people though, so I'm happy to strike up conversations with random people I find cool!

@moltenwrites @willtheweaver @the-golden-comet @katenewmanwrites @agirlandherquill +open tag

[astradyke]

Suddenly I need you to write a dissertation on anything!! You're so well spoken <3 since we're getting into a bit of a character (?) study almost on them, I need you to talk about phil's supposed breakdown when dan left him aka went on tour. These two are so codependent it's adorable!! And now in the context of phil incorrectly (but still sweet) explaining to dan the invisible string theory. I can't!!!!! If it wasn't so sweet, it would almost be toxic but I love them!! They're obsessed with each other, only want each other, cannot stand to be separated for more than a day and want us to know it!

i again need to pause and thank you profusely because i am really happy that there is an interest for my little dissertations ^_^ this is the second to last day i have at home before i move back into university so we really need to maximize this time haha

honestly though, i know i say this every time i make a post but i actually don't know how many thoughts i have about this? i dunno... this is going to be messy but, i guess here are some of my thoughts as to why i don't think Dan and Phil are codependent (ft some tangents and affirmations that they are still crazy insane bc you are right and i'm emotional about it)

Dan is leaving me is actually such a masterpiece of a video because it is really like the loudest thing they have ever publicly released, barring the second pizza mukbang video. it's a little ridiculous in concept because like, come on guys, you're in your thirties and you haven't been apart for longer than two weeks? ever? in like a decade? but also like... i don't know! i kind of get it?

one of the aspects of their relationship that Dan specifically really amplifies in interviews (and throughout Dystopia Daily interestingly enough) is the fact that Phil is essentially a part of his everyday routine so much to the point that it's no longer remarkable. it's heard when he describes their relationship as "two 1,000 immortals/ancient divorced couple", or when he says "Phil doesn't count as a person", or when he calls Phil a piece of furniture (can't snag citations right now but if you are unfamiliar with any of these just ask me and i'll find them for you). a lot of these are done snarkily, but it is actually a massive facet of many close relationships: you become so used to each other that your everyday existence is parallel play, and you are so good at communicating that you know how to flow in and out of each other's spaces like it's breathing.

quick little Mare lore drop, let's talk about university! from January to May at the bare minimum, i would spend anywhere from 2-8 hours a day with my best friend (who comes up in these posts way too much i promise that isn't intentional). we'd study together, eat together, hang out together, etc. we were talking about this recently, because i'm actually not the most extroverted person in the world-- i have spent the majority of my time alone this summer by choice-- but i simultaneously spent literally every waking moment with another person in college, aside from when i was asleep and maybe an hour or two in the middle of the day. the last time i FaceTimed him we both spent it playing separate video games and basically not talking for 1-2 hours straight? yet i am exhausted after seeing another very close friend of mine at the mall for like, two hours. how do you reconcile all of that?

the reason why my best friend's company doesn't drain my social battery is because i have embedded being around him so deeply into my routine that my brain doesn't register it as a social event anymore. i could be in a room with him for literally eight hours and only spent about a quarter of that time socializing. and yet, a few days away from going back to university, that reality feels like a total shock to me, because i spend all my time alone-- how the fuck am i going to go back to being with him from three PM to midnight?

well, that's the exact opposite question Dan and Phil had to ask themselves in 2022! the two of them had been so used to each other's company that it really did become part of their daily routines: a post-social event recharge for Dan might not exclude him resting beside Phil, because Phil isn't a Person, he's just Phil who happens to be a person-- Dan's person. Dan playing the Elden Ring DLC involved Phil being there because yes, Dan was the one playing, but Phil's obviously allowed to be there. so, when Dan decides to go off on tour, and the two of them split apart... that's when the question springs up. because suddenly alone time isn't alone time and also Dan's there, it's proper, actual alone time. the things that you forget to do around the house because you know someone else is able to do them shocks you, because it was never a problem to rely on someone before-- Dan was literally always there! etc etc.

and i actually... okay, i love jokes about codependency and sometimes i do look at them (like with parts of Dan is leaving me) and go holy shit you two that's crazy, but i actually don't see this as a codependency thing! it's a pretty massive shock to anyone's system when you live around another person for that long in such a compact space, right? and like they joked about in... shit, i don't remember the video, might have been the wdapteo 3 (?), the two of them were startled to see the other person in the flesh after Dan's long stretch on tour because that is also a massive adjustment! it's kind of a terrifying one to be honest! just like how university life / home life is a distinction for me, home life / WAD life was a distinction for Dan. and i do take note of the fact that this scenario was unfolding while Dan was the one on tour, because I do think we'd see something kind of interesting if it was the other way around-- like, my point holds, but Phil was right in the video when he said that he has lived alone before versus Dan hasn't because as soon as he moved out he found Phil and, well, not even Dan seems to remember when he proper moved in with him versus when he just crashed in his bed for a weekend. tour life gave Dan structure, and i think that overwhelming reset to his system probably helped with the lack of Phil, versus Phil had experienced living alone but didn't have the same routine that led him to handle the shift in company with the same grace. can't fault the guy.

that being said, while i don't think they were codependent exactly in this period of their life, i do think they were still crazy obsessed with each other because like they really cannot go two seconds without calling or texting or saying each other's names it's so funny. i don't really feel comfortable likening anything they have to toxic because i (like all folks here i think) am very very strongly for the idea that really none of it is, they just kind of happen to be a healthy relationship in which both party is convinced they are soulmates and nobody else has ever had a love like theirs. which... cheers, mate. for sure! can't believe Dan and Phil invented romance, should we throw a party, should we invite Joey Graceffa etc etc

anyway! those are my thoughts <3 this is a clusterfuck of a post SORRY i am very sleepy and also between packing 😭 so not as articulate as usual. but i tried!

[stormyoceans]

I'm telling you, this vice versa fever is never going away, and I owe a HUGE chunk of it to you. A few thoughts I had in the past hour:

1. There isn't enough good peuntalay fics on ao3. My boys deserve so much love. I am a sucker for feelings and emotions and i think about them post vv so many times in a week it's just sad. I always welcome recs 🙌🏻

2. Jimmysea went from being almost the same height to SEA being taller than jim and this is something i stay up thinking about. There's just SOMETHING about that height difference that's so DELICIOUS, it makes my imagination run WILD (not in a sexual way, only pure thoughts here)

I will forever come to you about my random peuntalay and morkday thoughts so prepare your inbox 🤭😚

PEOPLE THINK IM KIDDING WHEN I SAY I’LL BE 90 YEARS OLD AND STILL TALKING ABOUT THIS SHOW BUT WATCH ME TRY TO MAKE FRIENDS AT THE RETIREMENT HOME LIKE EXCUSE ME DO Y’ALL KNOW ABOUT QUEEN VICE VERSA THE SERIES THE FIRST OF HER NAME

right now im just so very grateful to have you sharing this endless derangement with me tho 💜 also the fact that im even partly responsible for your vice versa fever makes me way happier than it probably should sfjksgfjsg

unfortunately i don’t have many fic recs ;;;;;; part of it is because these days i have so little free time that i usually give priority to watching shows or reading books, but i also have to admit that i am annoyingly particular when it comes to fanfiction: i need the characterization to be as similar to the one i have in my head as possible, otherwise i just can’t bring myself to fully like the story ;;;;;;;; if you checked ao3, you’ve probably already read the few recs i have, but let me share them anyway to spread some love!!!

a glitch in the universe by @morkofday

After spending almost eight months in their own universe, Puen and Talay are finally getting married. Their wedding day is supposed to be the best day of their lives, the perfect start for their forever together. But as Talay recognizes Tun in Puen's body moments before their wedding ceremony is meant to begin, it becomes obvious that the universe has very different plans for them.

home by NgumNumNom

A 3+1 fic where 3 times Puen felt lonely and didn't know what the comfort of home was vs the 1 time when his home was right beside him. Plus a bonus because we all love fluff.

husbands to be by @distant-screaming

“I just can’t wait to get married to you,” Puen's grin widens. “My husband.” (Puen and Talay plan their wedding. As usual, they don't stay on track for long.)

regretted anticipation by @distant-screaming

Puen knocks on Talay’s door. He hopes the person who opens it this time will be Talay.

they're not that many, but imho these are really good!!!!! i agree with you that we do need more tho!!!!!!

ALSO JIMMYSEA’S HEIGHT THE ULTIMATE LONG LASTING MYSTERY IN THE NOMNOM FANDOM because if we listen to them then jimmy is 180 cm while sea is 178 cm BUT I SWEAR MOST OF THE TIMES SEA DOES LOOK JUST A TINY BIT TALLER SO WHAT'S THE TRUTH!!!!!!!! either way sea really has grown a lot in the past couple of years and it makes me sooooo emotional, he was so teeny tiny back then 🥺

i actually love that they don't have such a big difference in height and build, just enough to have their characters be perfect for cheek kisses and back hugs GOD BLESS

[sizzlingpatrolfox]

What's the point of th's supposed popularity if no one is listening to his music? He's basically an influencer at this point. The Kardashians have more ig followers than Beyonce and Taylor Swift, but they could easily lose those followers, unlike Beyonce and TS, who have the most loyal fan bases in the world. Quality over quantity, honestly.

Wdym his instagram likes don't matter???!?!?!

I think it has to do with everyone's obsession with "GP". Kths started that conversation around some grammys red carpet, I don't remember what year it was when they said "locals" kept asking if taekook were a couple. That's the first time I remember being taken aback and confused about this "gp" and "locals" validation. Then it was because he was in that kitchen show and they all went "omg gp darling this, gp darling that". And it hasn't stopped since solo era started. Do you have any idea of how tired I am of reading "gp" - take a shot everytime you go on army/solos spaces and read those letters.

Nobody cared about "gp" when BTS got all those billboard hot 100 positions and streams thanks to the huge fandom. As I've said before, BTS had a huge fandom for a while but only became somewhat "popular" (as in, random people would know about them - oh sorry, I meant precious GP would know about them) after butter or maybe my universe. Mind you, I've never in 6 years heard anyone in real life say "BTS". Literally Never. Meanwhile I just started this new job a month ago and I've already heard 3 different groups of people of all ages talk about Taylor. I've got students umproptly coming up to me and say "Miss, I've been listening to Taylor Swift songs to practice my English".

You'll see.. kpop fans are stereotyped as white, chubby/obese high school girls with blue hair who spend too much time online daydreaming about celebrities and have no life and get no sex. The truth is that some fans -even if they themselves are white chubby blue haired girls- are obsessed with not being associated to that stereotype. They don't want Taehyung's fans to be some miserable, lonely losers. They want him to have "LOCALS" admiration and respect. When the members opened their own ig accounts, those interactions were a gateway to that, mostly because instagram is you know.. theee place for the skinny, tanned, successful, pretty LOCALS.

I've always thought the whole obsession with "gp" and "locals" was so stupid. There's absolutely nothing wrong in having a big fandom. That's literally how BTS came to be what they were until last year, and armys weren't praying and begging for "gp" support. Taylor gets the numbers she gets because yes, many people around the world know her name and willingly listen to her music; but also because she has a huge ass fanbase. She's been building that fanbase for more than a decade. Three years ago, if you listened to Taylor you would've been considered a pathetic, lonely loser too.

At the end of the day, all this popularity talk it's just fans' own insecurities and their itch to distance themselves and the idol from the image of a "fandom" because they know what everyone thinks of people who are part of fandoms. Ironically, most BTS fans started out as people who didn't know anything about kpop -gp- and two years later they're getting hit tweets calling Jennie a lazy slut and saying "my fave is so popular amongst locals."

Taehyung stans clung to his ig interactions because they thought having the likes of "locals" made him more important or better in every way than the other members. However, in music, it's always better to have a huge fandom that will make eight hours long playlists of your song and play it multiple times a day -investing their own money and time on you- than it is to have random people liking your ig posts. And if what I'm saying it's not enough, take his china bar activities as an example. They bought almost a million albums; there's no 800k "locals" that would've bought his album.

[andmaybegayer]

Last Monday of the Week 2023-08-28

Arts and crafts

Listening: Chamber Mage

It's big loud heavy metal. Apparently they're doing their first run of live shows on this one album alone, godspeed.

Reading: Perhaps the Stars still. It's going, unfortunately I have gotten hooked on Breath of the WIld and my indiscipline has eaten into reading time so that's going slower.

Also a bunch of stuff about solar irradiation at various altitudes. This is part of an ongoing thing so I don't have much to say other than that there are so many different ways for light to get lost as it passes through the atmosphere, this stuff is way more complicated than they make it sound in passing.

Watching: Remembered that I was halfway through Noir, the 2001 Girls With Guns anime. I was enjoying it before my life got flipped turned upside down. Older anime has the bonus of having ludicrous amounts of cost saving measures which makes it fun to watch in the same way that it's fun to inspect mass produced consumer products for clever engineering tricks. They reuse SO many scenes to make this thing, episodes are like ⅓ bare minimum motion dialogue, ⅓ flashbacks, and ⅓ pretty good looking bespoke action combat scenes.

Making: Checked out a by-the-hour workshop called PONK, sanded down Galena to near final fit-up. Really handy to have a place like PONK on hand, I cannot justify dealing with the dust kicked up by a belt sander alone, even ignoring the cost and space.

Playing: Breath of the Wild! You can check the tag for my ongoing notes, but it's what I'm doing with a lot of my spare time at home. It's really engaging and despite my expectations, it's not a game I sit down at in the morning and then play for eight hours.

Maybe that's because I'm no longer in university/high school (although I'm pretty sure I could still spend 14 hours straight in Warframe) but I think it's more that every few hours I get bodied so hard by an enemy encounter that I have to go lie down.

Having a good time, I rambled into the desert last night and did a shrine on the border, no clue what I plan to do tonight.

Tools and Equipment: I hooked up a dead simple USB KVM under my desk to switch a keyboard and mouse between my desktop and my work laptop. Big quality of life improvement for working from home that cost like $10. It doesn't switch video or anything so I still have to use the toggles on my screen but most monitors have multiple inputs these days so that's not exactly a huge ask.

[dailyunstableeve]

Under The Spell

Chapter (2/9)

Miguel O'Hara x My oc (Eve)

°:. *₊ ° . ° .•°:. *₊ ° . ° .•°:. *₊ ° . ° .•°:. *₊ ° . ° .•°:. *₊ ° . ° .

"C'mon Miguel, sing with me!" Eve passed Miguel a mic and had the music blasting in the room.

They're having their first hang out, Miguel doesn't have any ideas on what activity they could do so he lets Eve be the one who picks. And Eve decided to go to the karaoke.

Eve loves to sing, for her, songs could let her feel closer to her family.

"Wait, I haven't even queued this song yet," Eve frowned, looking at the TV, it's playing 'American Pie'.

"You said you love that song, I wanna hear you sing the whole song," Miguel looked at Eve.

"Gosh, how can I say no to this handsome face."

The whole song lasted for eight minutes long, Miguel just watched how Eve danced along with the music, her voice. Miguel didn't know he's enchanted by Eve's voice, he found that he loved Eve's voice.

Before he finally loosened up a little, he remembered the mistake he had made, ruined a whole universe and her daughter, disappeared in his arms.

The three hour karaoke ended quicker than Eve thought, maybe it's because she was singing most of the time and lost track of time.

"Let's go grab dinner," Eve suggested, she just wanted to spend more time with Miguel.

Miguel nodded, but his phone started to ring, he had no choice but to answer it because it's 'Jess'.

"Sorry," Miguel apologized and turned around, answered the phone.

"We need your help, get your ass here right now!" Eve could hear Jess' voice through the speaker, even Miguel is not on speaker.

"Alright," Miguel turned back to Eve, "I'm sorry-"

"It's all right, your speaker is quite loud," she chuckled, "go now, I bet it's urgent."

A bitter smile appeared on Eve's face. For once, Miguel is bothered by it but he still walks away to Jess' urgent call.

Miguel showed up after two minutes Jess called. With Miguel showing up, they manage to beat down the anomaly before it gets out of hand.

As Miguel asks Lyla to scan the area to check there's no more anomaly, Jess is just staring at Miguel. Once Miguel is done, he only notices Jess was staring at him all this time.

"What?" Miguel throws the anomaly in the portal.

"Ever since that incident, you've been acting really strange, like way more strange than you normally are," Jess sighed, "and now, you are nowhere to be found in the building."

"Oh, you care about that?" Miguel looked at Jess, with his head looking down a little.

"You basically let the spider-men join the society and these days, you weren't even doing anything about it, and everyone is asking me what exactly is the society for? Miguel, if you want to keep the spider verse to go as exactly it should be, get your ass back in that office."

"Ya, you'll be an excellent mom when the baby comes out," Miguel didn't even look back and walk in the portal.

"Was that sarcasm?" Jess exclaimed and walked in the portal as well.

★・・・・・・★

"You're telling me this is the reason he's not picking up calls?" Jess whispered to Lyla.

"He's been meeting up with that lady for quite some time now," Lyla said, "weirdly enough, I can't get any identity from that girl."

"Maybe she's not around here."

"Eve Ashby, family died years ago," Lyla finally was able to find some information about Eve, "she doesn't have any crime record, she even graduated from university and took extra courses for writing, language."

"So she's a smart ass."

"If you put it like that," Lyla said.

"Wait, where they go?"

Miguel and Eve disappeared from Jess and Lyla's sight, Jess hopped on the roof and started looking for Miguel and Eve.

They didn't know that, Eve pulled Miguel to a hidden alley, and they were kissing. Yeah, kissing.

Here's the recap:

It has been over five months ever since Eve and Miguel met, they started hanging out every once a week, slowly it turned to twice a week, three days, four days and five days. They basically just meet up five days out of seven, which leads to why Jess and Lyla are spying on them because Miguel rarely shows up.

"So, when can I go to your work place? I wanna see where you work," Eve asked as she's eating the cotton candy.

"Outsider can't get in," Miguel answered, knowing that if Eve saw hundreds of Spiderman in just one building, would freak her out.

"Then, sign me in," Eve begged, "my job's salary is getting less, like there's no business at all," Eve complained.

"I'll see what I can do."

Eve noticed that Miguel was looking at her cotton candy, she pulled Miguel into an alley, as she leaned on the wall, she looked up at Miguel's face, he's shocked by how Eve just easily pulled him in the alley. Eve took the cotton candy out of the stick, "eat it before it melted," then she put it on her lip, Eve didn't just eat it all, she had a bit of the cotton candy sticking out of her lip, hinting Miguel to eat it. Miguel hesitated for a bit and leaned towards Eve, eating the cotton candy slowly, and slowly, their lips connected.

Miguel could taste the sweetness on Eve's lip, must've been the cotton candy that melted on her lip just now, which makes him can't stop, he wanted to taste more of that sweet and soft lip. Miguel has his right leg between Eve's leg, allowing her to sit on his thigh, with his arm wrapped around Eve's waist and pulling her closer. Eve rested her arms on Miguel's shoulder.

"Was it too sweet to resist?" Eve smiled, looking at Miguel, "such a handsome face, and it's begging for more."

"Mi Amor," Miguel whispered, leaning forward and kissed her neck.

Miguel has fallen deep in love with Eve.

He thought that after the incident, he did not deserve any more love.

Until he met Eve.

Just because Eve looks so irresistible.

°:. *₊ ° . ° .•°:. *₊ ° . ° .•°:. *₊ ° . ° .•°:. *₊ ° . ° .•°:. *₊ ° . ° .

Prev~

Next~

[whyispotatoheadalreadytaken]

"It's okay. Everyone's survival looks a little bit like death sometimes."

-@andreagibson, Angels Of The Get-Through

The first time I saw Andrea Gibson live, I was a student at Asbury. I drove 3 hours away to find healing within a queer community I desperately needed. I was so excited to get an opportunity to be in that space and feel seen and accepted for who I am. About halfway through, Andrea read us a new poem. The poem began with, "This year is the hardest year of your whole life. So hard you can not see a future most days." And, within an instant, I broke unto an inconsolable mess. So much so that Sonneline tried to reach over and put her arm around me. I shoved it away. I sobbed through the poem's entirety, trying not to bring attention to myself because I was living through the worst year of my life during that time. I was enduring religious trauma after religious trauma with no end in sight. I felt trapped and immobilized in that trauma. Fighting to be seen, heard, understood, or find a scrap of empathy from anyone willing or able to recognize my humanity. That was in April 2015.

I waited five years for that poem to be released in some capacity.

I saw Andrea three times after that. The last time was on February 26th of 2020. About two weeks later, I learned that Asbury had fired two professors rumored to be LGBTQ-affirming. One of those professors helped me survive during my time there. I drove to Nashville from KY, and when I arrived, I noticed pennies on the tables heads up. Lucky pennies. Andrea read Angels Of The Get-Through once more for us. After the show, I checked out the merch and saw a neckless with a dog tag of sorts. I smiled through the tears building in my eyes as I read the words "Angel of the Get-Through" engraved on it. I usually left with a book but couldn't pass the necklace up. I clutched it tight with my lucky penny in hand when I finally found the courage to publicly come out the next day. To come out and finally stand up against this university that had caused me so much pain that seemed to follow me years after graduating. I've worn this necklace every day since.

So, it's no surprise that this poem has been ringing in my ears over the last eight days as Asbury has received national attention and praise for the revival that has broken out on campus. We stopped by the university to see it for ourselves after Marshall and Ashley's Superbowl party. To our surprise, there was no one gatekeeping at the door, so we were allowed inside. The first person we encountered was our dear friend Dani, a current trans student. It was relatively tame then, and our interactions with current and past classmates were mostly positive. Some were unsure of what to say to us. One individual excommunicated my friends Matt and Carly from their friend group for affirming and was at this revival. He briskly walked past us, stopped, did a doubletake, and said, "Hey, guys! I am SO glad you are here tonight!" I couldn't help but cringe.

I had been trying to find respectful words for my feelings but lacked the vocabulary. It wasn't until I read a thread on Twitter about the revival a few days later that I could find words for how I was feeling. I got to vocalize those feelings when some classmates walked into class on Thursday and greeted me, saying,

"Niamh!!! How about that Asbury revival???"

"Well, I would say that, based on what I've seen happening there, there is a distinction between revival and religious euphoria."

But, if anyone would ask me about it, I'm glad it was George. He was just genuinely curious and wanted to know my opinion. I had already had tequila and Baja on the way to class. If I hadn't been buzzed, I might have cried at the thought of someone asking me about Asbury at UK. Our friend Mattie asked to come over and spend the night with us to escape revival. I was honored (which sounds dramatic, but I mean it) that she sought us out to find safety. That's all we've ever wanted to be for queer students at Asbury. A refuge. I had nowhere to go when I was a student. At least, it felt that way at the time. Thousands of people came from all over to see and experience what was happening. My interpretation of that would be so they can use it for political gain/and so they wouldn't be FOMOing. Mattie told us she started to feel unsafe with the number of strangers walking through their buildings and sleeping on the floors. Strange that they won't let the homeless do that any time of the year. She said it was becoming really overwhelming, and her pain of learning about her parent's divorce has been overshadowed by the "revival." She said their divorce is for the best, but she's mad that no one has been around to help her process and offer support because it's not the most important thing happening.

Zoë formulated her feelings in a really tangible way:

"It's complicated. Freshman year me, who was so in love with that place, wants it to be real and for real change to come of it. But it's really painful to watch everyone else living it up and having the best time with my abusive ex."

As someone who leans more agnostic, I can't help but pick the entire thing apart. Historically, all of Asbury's "revivals" have occurred in February. Asbury's class sizes have drastically decreased over the last four years. What better way to bump their admissions if they allow revival to break out? There was talk of revival in the years that I attended, but every time chapel ended, and I stayed behind and skipped class, I was penalized for that. There was no room for revival because the university had nothing to gain from it then.

On November 16th, 2016, I wrote a song called Dear God on the floor of my dorm. It's the most direct and least wordy song I've ever written. I wrote it in about an hour through my tears. I was watching a specific group of privileged people celebrating the election of Donald Trump. They all had a few things in common: straight, white, and male. And I watched a different, much smaller group of people lamenting his election. They all had other things in common: they were not straight, white, or male. I'll never forget my classmate telling me in tears at chapel the day after the election that she would have to tell her children that things would get more challenging for them. Her husband is a DACA recipient. They were already experiencing racism in school for being Mexican.

I had three thoughts come into my mind when writing the song, questions I had wanted answers to from God and never got.

Why don't you love people like me?

What happens to the people in between?

Tell me why there is so much hate if you're not a male, white, and straight?

Why is it hard for people to see that I'm just trying to be who you created me to be?

All of the times I wanted to die and went out of my way to unalive myself in those years, one thing kept me around: if I let them win and have my life, who would be around to keep them from claiming the lives of others?

I can't go yet because there's still so much I need to do.

But, when it is time, will you take me? Will I have done enough for that to be possible, or does none of it even matter just because I'm gay?

"Yeah, Niamh, you did a great job saving the lives of queer kids, but, unfortunately, you, too, are queer, and thus, you are damned for all eternity. Thanks, but get out!"

I just don't get it. I don't understand it.

So, revival has been painful. I want to walk into Hughes Chapel and split the ceiling with my fists.

It will not be true revival until they "repent" for the irreparable damage they've inflicted on their queer students and staff who helped them survive.

So, that, along with everything else in my life, is making it really hard. 

Work stuff got much worse before it got better, and we still aren't entirely out of the woods with that yet. I'm stressed to the max and can't catch a break most days. I can't wake up on time because I'm exhausted in all of the ways. It's just been a hard month. Usually, February is pretty chill before the chaos of March. So, I'm really not looking forward to March Madness this year. Not basketball-related march madness, but the mental health march madness. It's the October of winter/springtime.

Anyway. That's a sad update.

[early20sfailingplenty]

.

Online university is so fucking lonely. I sit by myself in my bedroom all day every day just working. Most days, I get all the social interaction I need by being on here and talking to people and I adore it so, so much, but late at night when it's just me re-watching a film I've seen 123456789 times before or doing some writing to give myself and others some comfort or whatever else I'm trying to capture, it cuts deeply that I can't just... go out and meet up with the friends I have on here. I also never feel like I'm enough for myself; I can study for three hours or eight, and I will still feel like I'm not doing enough, like I'm inadequate. I'm tired of not being enough for myself; it's so toxic because I would never put on anyone else the expectations I have for me (always working, never stopping), but then when I can't do it because I'm not a robot, I beat myself up about it and it just makes everything worse. My self-expectations are so high it's toxic and I'm trying to work on being kinder to myself, but it's not easy.

When my job starts at the beginning of next month, I'm gonna hate being made to spend time with people and I'll miss my bedroom every second I'm not in it, which goes to show how much my world had shrunk into just these four walls. Even other rooms in my parent's house don't feel comfortable. My world has shrunk to a single room and I know how bad that is, but there's nothing I can do about it. I can't financially afford to move out, I don't have any friends in real life (as in, off social media) because I never maintained the very shaky connections I made in sixth form college or high school (I was bullied by my peers for roughly fifteen years just for being myself and because of that and general social awkwardness, I've never felt like I fit in anywhere except online fandom spaces, because I don't have to watch body language or try to figure out how people mean things and I can just be me without having to worry about those things or how I'm coming across), I don't really connect to my family either... it's just me. Alone in my room. All day every day.

Most days, that's exactly how I like it.

But some days, like today, it makes me scared that I've fucked my entire life by creating this strange kind of echo chamber where it's just me myself and I. I have to study and it takes hours every day and I love it because it's something I'm passionate about (I'm doing a psychology with counselling degree because my goal and genuine want in life is to love and to help people) and when my job starts, it'll be a similar commitment which I have to juggle and it's gonna be hard and exhausting and I'm barely gonna be in my room, at least compared to right now. I know how unhealthy this is, I do, I'm well aware of it... sometimes it's like watching myself out of someone else's eyes and recognising red flags and bad traits and things to correct myself on, but I can't do anything about this from a point of realistic goals. I have student debts and a part time job and a full time university course, family issues and money issues and with everything going on, it seems almost impossible to make any actual changes... especially because I'm not sure I want to.

When my job starts properly, I'll still be lonely even though I'll be out of the house and interacting with people more often. I'll still be getting upset at night because the people I enjoy interacting with are on the other side of the world and when I have to sleep, they're going to be awake and I won't be able to interact with them "live". I'll still be alone in my room, even with flowers in my heart and all my uwus dropped because of people here being so damn nice but I have to go to bed and it's not something I wanna do; I'd happily stay up every night 'til 4am so I can spend time with my mutuals but my lifestyle won't allow that in just over a week and I hate it. My mutuals are the best and please know if I say I miss you or I'm thinking of you, I mean it. 🥺💜

There's something not right with me and idk what the proper terms for it are, but I do know that this blog is my therapy, in a way (something else I can't realistically afford lmfao). I write to soothe the wounds I carry, to comfort others, to give me beautiful and terrifying things to think about and fall asleep dreaming of, to connect with others and to show the parts of me I don't know how else to voice without using metaphors.

[sanieee]

ℂ𝕒𝕝𝕝 𝕐𝕠𝕦 𝕄𝕚𝕟𝕖

Au: Non-idol au

Genre: Angst, fluff.

Summery: Are you lovers or strangers when you look eye to eye? You knew the answer when you asked him if you could call him yours.

Warnings: It may be longer than I expected it to be. Also, it was [again] inspired by The Chainsmokers. And it’s unedited so, if you see any mistakes, I will re-read it [for the 15th time] again. I’m making individual ones based on several songs.

Words: 2k 

“ᴰᵒⁿ'ᵗ ˡᵉᵗ ᵗʰᵉ ᵐᵉᵐᵒʳʸ ᶠᵃᵈᵉ“

                       ༛ ༛༺༻༛ ༛

Hongjoong ︳Seonghwa  ︳Yunho  ︳Yeosang ︳San ︳Mingi ︳Wooyoung ︳Jongho

༛༛ ༛༛ ༛༛ ༛ ༛༺༻༛ ༛ ༛༛ ༛༛  ༛༛

Meeting Wooyoung was unexpected. Ending up being his significant other was also out of the blue. Your whole relationship was unlooked for, but amazing nevertheless. But when it started to go down hill, you couldn’t help but think of the happier days. 

You walked in the bar, there were hundreds of conversations told in loud voices, all of them competing with the loud  music that resonated through the speakers. The crowd is young, students from university for the most part, and you were no exception. Your friends had been asking you to go out one night to the bar downtown with them, to have some fun and discuss some gossip if there was any. 

As you were looking for your friends, a pair of eyes were fixed on you since you stepped inside. He ran his fingers through his long dark locks, just to push away his bangs out of his eyesight the next second. He turned to his best friend, who was drinking away his problems. 

Taking away the glass from his hands, he nudged his shoulder.  A loud, “Who is she?” was heard by all the people at their table. Seven heads turned in different directions, but were quickly to turn back to him as they were not given any description of the girl he was looking for.  The oldest of the bunch took his glass up to his lips and after a sip asked “What does she look like?”

The younger boy laughed, and then described what you were wearing. After eight pairs of eyes were roaming through the whole bar, the youngest pointed at you with his head. “Her? She goes to my university.” He was not the type to go after someone for a long period of time, and his reputation of breaking hearts was well known, but he didn’t care as he saw your smile. 

He asked Jongho about you, and when he felt confident enough,  he got up his seat to go after you. He came up to you, tapped your shoulder and winked, you laughed as he told you:  “The name is Jung Wooyoung.” 

His presence was anticipated for you at first, but as the night progressed, you liked how easy going and funny he was, needless to say you had no intentions to push him away. You remember how much you laughed as he danced with you and tried to get you interested in him. But you were not the type of girl to go with the first guy that gives you attention. 

You thought he just liked you that night to have some fun, but it was a surprise to you when you saw him again in your campus. He claimed to pick up Jongho, but the boy was already an adult, so his lies were kind of messy. He brushed everything aside  and stuck to you for a few hours before leaving, and it happened for a few months. 

You were sure he was just playing with you, he would find another girl to trail after. His friends on the other hand, had never seen him so dedicated to anyone before. You claimed he was just a friend, and  he claimed you were going to be in his arms sooner or later. But did you feel anything for him? You weren’t sure. 

You weren’t sure until you saw him in a party hosted by one of your friends at the same bar you’ve met. He came up to you, asked you why you were there. “It’s Chan’s party, he’s my childhood friend so of course I came.” He handed you a glass with a smile, his arm around your shoulders as you looked for Chan. 

A few hours after, you were both sitting on the porch stairs. You took some pictures with both your phones, uploading some stories that you wouldn’t remember you posted in the morning. When the night was deep, when the lights had been on for a few hours, when you were drunk enough to forget you came with someone, you told him you were going home. 

But he didn’t want you to leave you yet. He wanted to spend more time with you. Taking you by the arm he asked you “Hey, what you doing for the rest of your life?" You knew what he wanted, and with a sly smirk you told him "Well, I don't even know what I'm doing tonight." 

He extended his hand to you, which you took softly, and the next thing you knew, you were running in the street towards the subway station. If people saw you, they would be worried while giving you weird glances, but you were having the time of your life. Later on, you were in front of the ticket machine, trying to get a ten trip pass. The reason why you didn't buy a ticket for each was because combining both your cash was at least  20$. 

You laughed as you took little steps to go up the station stairs after getting to your destination. He was pulling your arm with little to no strength, and you were leaning on the railing as your hair got in front of your face. 

When you finally climbed the stairs, Wooyoung pointed to a street stall. You both ran to get in line, and took out some of the left over cash you had in your pockets. He paid your order without landing his face on the floor and handed you a water bottle when he turned around. 

You sat on a bench as you leaned on him, sobering up as you ate French fries. When he asked you if you wanted an ice cream, you said yes as you got up and skipped over to a convenience store. 

And maybe it sounds so cliché, but he found you adorable when you picked your dessert. And he couldn’t stop looking at you as you smiled at him with the city lights behind. Maybe that’s why when he saw you had ice-cream at the corner of your lips, he bent down to give you a kiss.

It was sweet. It was soft. It was needy and it was all you would remember for the next few days. That night you felt free and totally forgot about all your problems. When you asked what it was for, he  claimed it was to wipe off the ice cream you had on your lips, since you didn’t have napkins. 

But let me tell you, it wasn’t the last time your lips collided. A few months had passed and it was clear you were more than friends, but nothing was official. Until he showed up at your university once again, and took you away from your friends, with their permission. 

While walking by the river, he had an urge to kiss you, and he did. Not surprised at all, you kissed him back, but as he pulled away he softly asked you a question you were surely not expecting. 

“Can I call you mine?”

You laughed shyly, taking him by his jacket while you nodded. 

But now he was busy, he didn’t have time for you. His college assignments were taking him away from you, and you couldn’t do much since you were also in your senior year. He got mad whenever you brought up how you were neglecting your relationship. And you stopped trying because the only thing it did was hurt you more. 

You talked about it with your friends, they told you to keep trying to talk to him because a relationship goes nowhere if there’s no communication. When you visited his dorm the next day, you went to his room to try again. 

But he was sleep deprived, he couldn’t think straight and he was absolutely not keeping up with you. When you had enough, you started screaming at each other. San and Jongho were in the living room, very aware that your relationship was not in its’ best moment. They were silent as they looked at their frozen phone screens, more interest in your… yelling. 

“Do you regret calling me yours?!” 

The boys knew it was over when they heard no response, and got surprised when you left with a loud bang while closing the door. When they went to Wooyoung, he was still in shock from your question. Of course he didn’t regret it, but he didn’t feel like you were in such bad terms for you to question his loyalty. San told him to man up and fix it, because if he didn’t, Jongho was going to slap some sense into him.

However, his actions weren’t done immediately. It took him several days to compose himself and imagine himself in your place. He did notice that you barely had time to see eye to eye. That sometimes he was in a rush and brushed past you as if you didn’t know each other. It felt like you were someone he knew, that you were slowly becoming strangers. 

However, with all the rage inside you, you decided to go out one night, tired of braking your head and thinking about him all day long. Dolling yourself up in front of your mirror and going to the bar downtown after calling some friends. And while you were drinking your third glass that night, Wooyoung passed through the door looking for you all alone. 

When he spotted you, he came and sat besides you on the bar stools, to try to get you to look at him. You did take a glace at him but looked the other way the second after. He sighed, he had to fix it but he didn’t know how so he went outside to clear his mind.  He left , which irked you a bit because you were convinced he was being a coward and letting all these years go to waste. 

As you hit the dance floor, you felt a tap on your shoulder. You turned around and saw Wooyoung who was looking down with a sad smile. When you asked him what was wrong, because something inside of you just couldn’t help but to feel worried, he winked at you. You had a confused expression on, but it quickly turned into a smirk when he finger gunned you and told you “The name is Jung Wooyoung.” 

You couldn’t stay mad at him when he was trying to act like you were meeting for the first time. But unlike your first meeting, he took you by the hand and guided you outside. You leaned on the wall, as silence came upon both. But he inhaled deeply and looked at you.

“I will make it up to you.”

“How? Don’t make promises you can’t keep.”

He took both your hands, and brought you closer. His cologne smelled like home, he felt like home, you had the urge to hug him, but controlled yourself as you were still ‘mad’ at him. He brought your lips together, and closed the gap once your eyes weren’t looking at him anymore, but at his lips. 

When you separated, he laughed and you just rolled your eyes. You felt like that, that was the end of the night, you were going to go home, sleep and talk with him tomorrow. But he had other plans, as you walked away, he grabbed your arm.

“Hey, what you doing for the rest of your life?" 

You laughed wholeheartedly as you held onto him. 

 "Well, I don't even know what I'm doing tonight." 

Then just like before, you ran to catch the subway. Just like before, you barely had cash to pay individually. Just like before, you laughed your ass off as you tried to go up the stairs at the same station. But unlike before, neither of you were drunk, and you enjoyed your recreation even more than the original. 

You sat at the same bench you ate your French fries as he told you how sorry he was for neglecting your relationship, neglecting you. It wasn’t the best apology ever, I know, you know it, but it was sincere. Both of you promised to never let this happen again, and went to get the ice cream you bought at the same store previously.

As you finished, you were expecting a kiss afterwards, but you weren’t as sure because you had your messy eating habits out of your way. However, when he looked down at you, as he had his arm around your shoulders, he leaned to give you a gentle kiss. 

You smiled. He hugged you and snuggled up to you. All the anger banished away from you, and you weren’t mad at him anymore, you knew you could sort your chaotic schedules together. 

You went back home after feeling tired. He took you back to your apartment and laid in bed with you, he had clothes at your place for improvised occasions like this, so he wasn’t going to go to sleep with some jeans on. As he played with your hair, you were falling asleep. But before you could go to dreamland, he whispered everything you wanted to hear. 

"I never regretted the day that I called you mine, so I call you mine."

Both of you went to sleep with a smile on your faces, and woke up like nothing ever happened.

[rpmemesbyarat]

RP meme from Scream Queens Ep 10 "Thanksgiving"

Listen. I don't want you to take this the wrong way, but I don't think I can bone you right now.

My wanger is way stressed out.

I've killed for our love.

I just gave her a little push.

You and I can pick up right where we left off.

You can bring me home for Thanksgiving and introduce me to my future in-laws.

What did you do with the body?

I put it in the meat locker. It's where we've been putting all the dead bodies.

I need to see the body.

Look, we can have a three-way with the body.

I'll show you the body, but not so you can have sex with it.

I'll show it to you so that you and I will share a dangerous secret that will strengthen our relationship and bring us closer together.

I don't understand how this keeps happening!

Is this meat locker, like, a wormhole to an alternate universe or something?

She'll probably stop at nothing until she gets her revenge by murdering you.

No one wants to spend a room service Thanksgiving alone.

Are you going to talk at all?

You shouldn't be mad at me.

We're the sane ones.

Now, I know you've got other plans today, and for alibi's sake we need to protect your cover, but I am not letting you leave on an empty stomach.

Is that what quail is? I thought they were bigger.

You know what I was picturing? Pheasant.

Time to slice off those breasts.

I feel like this holiday is all about family, and, well, as you know, I gave up on my real family a long time ago.

I mean, at this point, the closest thing I have to family is. . . you.

I understand that Thanksgiving is supposed to be about family and being together and thanking God that we were born rich in America and not in Uganda or Venezuela or any of those other African countries.

You're late. The game's just about to start.

What do you think would happen if those instructions were incorrect?

This family's fortune is built on being right on time.

There's nothing better than sitting together as a family, watching the game. Laughing, smiling, just enjoying the warmth of each other's company. That's what it's all about today. Togetherness.

I hate defrosted food.

Why is it called Italian Style Chicken Cacciatore? All chicken cacciatore is Italian style.

This is not what Thanksgiving is supposed to be.

A bunch of my sort-of friends have been killed and no one has asked me about it.

Oh. And I'm starting a new family tradition. It involves me never coming to any family occasions ever again.

Would you stop with the screaming?

It's more like a stay of execution until no one is looking.

I've never cooked before, but that should be fine, since I usually just pretend to eat.

Well, I can cook and eat for the both of us.

So we've decided to have an orphans Thanksgiving all together.

I mean, I guess you could come over here if you wanted.

And this year I'm so thankful for the lax indecency laws in Eastern Europe that inundate our Internet with millions of hours of hard-core porn.

You know, ever since I was a little boy, I knew what God wanted me to do and that was make money off the backs of creative people.

I am so thankful that he, for whatever reason, has not murdered me yet.

You have such a vast future ahead of you.

You'll meet so many new and different women. So many wonderful women to go out with and break up with and move on from.

You should be thankful that this table is too long for me to reach across and strangle you, bitch!

What are you doing here? How are you alive?

When I woke up and regained consciousness, I felt better than ever.

The only thing you're carrying is water weight, you bloated little tramp.

I have a little game to play that's gonna make the time fly right by.

No, I've never killed anyone as far as I know.

Okay, there is no evidence at all that mass murder is genetic.

I would say that is more than a little suspicious.

I have bathroom shame issues. I always wait until everyone is asleep and then I sneak down to poop in the little powder room downstairs.

I mean, don't we all agree that those babies are the killers?

That seems like an unnecessarily complicated cover story.

I think we have plenty here to go to the police.

What, are you drunk?

You know, the one time I call you for a little advice, you're hammered.

I suppose we should discuss the matter of payment.

I'm asking you to name your price.

Are you propositioning me?

No, I'm asking how much money it'll take to make you go away.

My family is super-gross rich.

That outfit screams desperation.

I am, however, willing to write you a check for $50,000 if you will leave now and never come back.

It's a lot of money for a family like yours.

What is the best part about Thanksgiving?

Tastes like Henry VIII just barfed in my mouth.

Well, I don't want to sound like a dick here, but have you ever considered maybe you should leave?

I brought some of my famous eight-meat stuffing. It's beef, venison, alligator, buffalo, rabbit, goat, rattlesnake and Spam. I cut all of the meats super thin, so that you're guaranteed every meat in every bite.

I thought you said you were leaving forever or something like that?

Have you ever even cracked open a book?

You did say just the other day that the only way to live is to play the long game.

I really hope you can come up with something better than that.

I can prove that you're the only person in this room we know for a fact is a murderer.

I saw you in the coffee shop the other day, reading one of your old Playgirl magazines.

Okay, look, there's just some stuff that doesn't add up.

Look, I've gone through all the suspects in my mind, and I can explain away all my suspicions for everyone except you.

Can we just talk this out, so you can help me see that I'm wrong?

I mean, it would fit in with your whole hard worker, let's find out the truth, never take no for an answer, awful personality.

Anything to redeem your beloved dead mother.

I can't rest when the killer's still out there, so I stayed behind to do some more research.

You're skinny and pretty, so that's a plus, but it's highly competitive, so you'd better be rich, too.

You know how at the beginning of the year, I was always secretly following you so I could just keep an eye on you, make sure you were safe?

I heard you talking to someone, but I couldn't hear what it was about.

Thank you for letting me talk about this, talk this out, and hear your side of the story.

Um, homely, ugly.

Gold digger! Not welcome.

No, no, too chunky to wear that outfit.

I'm fairly certain this board game's been tampered with.

And while my motivations were airtight and my conscience clear, still, I'm sorry.

I mean, no one deserves to be spoken to like that, particularly not by what is, without a doubt, the most awful family in America.

I've honestly seen more tasteful decor at a Sizzler.

And you, sir, give the kind, hard-working, deeply moral people who work in such a wonderful industry as Hollywood a bad name.

I am walking out that door and never speaking to you again.

How could such a stud evolve from a boy who was so clearly a douche?

Oh, please, look, I-I was so bombed at that party. I mean, I remember I puked while I was making out with some girl, but there is no way that I could've found my way back down there 20 minutes later, let alone 20 years.

This is really embarrassing, um, but I started the paleo diet, because I'm back on the dating scene now, and I-I wanted to lose some weight.

I never saw a body down there.

I-I was a bit of a man slut back in the day, and it was the '90s, so nobody wore condoms.

I'm obligated to take it to the police.

What are you gonna do with the money?

didn't take the money, idiot.

Okay, first of all, I experienced extreme emotional trauma this evening, and second, I'm the one delegating tasks, thank you very much.

I couldn't find any matches.

I was sharpening this knife.

You haven't eaten yet, have you? I knew it!

You've come back. You've chosen me over your awful family.

First of all, my family is awesome. How dare you?

So, without further ado, dinner is served.

[rpbetter]

Sorry if this isn't the place to ask but I'm in need of advice. I have a canon character I truly adore, but I haven't gotten muse or any opportunity to write them at all. My blog is collecting dust and the fandom is kinda dead at this point. Not to mention, it's hard to find compatible writing partners, especially with how picky I can be. I'm honestly considering deactivating the blog (for the nth time), but I don't want to lose the writing I have. I know I could archive, but I hate having blogs just sitting around.

In short, I really want to write the muse/keep the blog but I'm not getting any incentive to do that.

Hello, Anon, it’s totally the place to ask!

I will say, though, that since finding and keeping muse can be flavored rather personally, I can’t promise that what works for me is going to work for you. I’ll even confess that in over two decades, I’ve never personally lost muse. I don’t know if it is due to underlying, neurodiverse style, fixating, or if it is due to keeping myself continually invested in both my muse and writing regardless of what else is going on. (Probably a combination of both, though, and the things I do to keep myself highly in touch with my muse I’ll be recommending.) I’m definitely happy to try to help, however.

That really is a very frustrating spot to be in, wanting to write the muse and keep your blog active, but logging in every day to be reminded of what little reason you have to do so. Since we’re drawn to the characters we are for reasons of personal appeal and writing in itself is a pretty personal form of art, it can also feel depressing on top of the frustration.

However, that’s also the good news, in my opinion, because your incentive here is, or can be, yourself.

You were drawn to this character because you connected with them. They mean something to you, you can relate to them, maybe they have qualities (good or bad) that you wish you could experience. Whatever it is, there’s a reason why you had this draw. Writing is like that as well, there’s a reason why this is a hobby that drew you, that you get enjoyment out of. Again, though all art (it doesn’t matter if it is a hobby) has personal bits of the artist in it, writing is uniquely personal. When you write, you’re exploring thoughts and feelings, giving them life in a character that matters to you. I know, all of that sounds really convoluted and hokey, but it’s true.

And it’s good! That means you always have a reason to write and that you have the tools necessary to find and keep muse without any outside push necessary.

I’d say, firstly, work on getting muse back.

Get back in touch with your muse the next time you feel a particularly strong urge to write. Instead of spending time trying to find people in a silent fandom or forcing yourself to write something you don’t want to, just do some exercises that will help you get back into your muse.

I don’t know what media type your character comes from, but especially if it is something like movie or show that you can have on in the background of what you’re doing, do that. If it’s a comic or a book, think about your favorite scene and read it over first. If you’ve ever made some playlists for writing/your muse, you can always do that instead or as well. The point is to do something passively inspiring while you actively create. Now, that creating...

You want to do something that requires you to think about your muse so you can get in touch with them, not something that is going to make you feel overwhelmed and shut down. So, maybe don’t pick writing prompts for this - you can work up to that. Try out headcanon and character development memes and other question lists instead for right now. Things you can scroll down a list of, find questions that jump out as interesting (or even simply answerable to you at this point, you’re jump-starting a dead battery, it’s alright) and answer them. You can also do something as simple as write down what you like best about the character or their story, or put down the basics of filling in missing information that has always bugged you.

The beauty of this is that it is all on your own terms, your only objective here is to answer what you want, as much as you want. You can stop any time, but you can also answer a single question for three hours, making it eight pages long if the inspiration strikes you. It’s only about recharging your inspiration and establishing a connection with your character again. (This is also going to help you with getting back into writing, or approaching it for the first time, with a more internalized focus of interest.)

When you feel like you’ve done that, you can branch out on these exercises more. Answer the memes more in-depth, answer more of them/the ones you don’t have immediate answers for. You can also try writing out scenes from the character’s canon from their perspective, if it wasn’t already so, adding in their thoughts and feelings, or changing the scene in some ways that would be interesting to write out. This is the point where it’s a good idea to try a writing prompt or two, as well! Take the prompt as a sort of starter sentence from a mutual, you’ve got the situation, fill in with your muse.

Write when you feel like writing. The RPC is great at saying this when it comes to muns not wanting to write, but kind of ignores the other side of the equation. The side where you want to write, have the inspiration and muse to do so, but it might not be the best time. As in, you’re not home/wherever you usually write, with whatever device you tend to write on accessible. No, you’re not going to be able to get as much done, but you can write without the usual situation and device regardless. You can write a scene or ideas down using your phone or tablet, or go old school and use a notebook. If you’re at work and your job isn’t applicable to being able to get down a single sentence, that still doesn’t mean you have to wait 8+ hours to get home; while you’re taking your break, write a little bit. It is a break, and writing is your hobby, it isn’t work. It’s good to do things you enjoy on breaks, and far more fulfilling to have also accomplished something you happen to enjoy.

Not writing when you have the drive to do, putting it off and holding it in until “the perfect moment,” is a great way to lose your inspiration and never actually have that moment. If you feel like doing it, that means it is the perfect moment. Life is restricting, don’t impose even more restrictions on yourself by having to be at home, in a specific spot, with a specific device, at a specific time, on a specific day. Was that annoying repetition? You’re right, it was. And that’s how your creative mind processes all the crap piled onto it that doesn’t allow for creativity.

Now, the other problem, the fandom situation.

There isn’t anything you can do about that, to be absolutely honest. I’m not going to blow smoke and tell you to be positive, wait it out, maybe the fandom will spring to life again. You know, maybe it will...but you could be waiting literal decades for that to happen. Not cool. Please, take my word for that, it’s personal experience that it blows even more than you imagine it will.

What you can do is take the matter into your own hands in other ways; putting yourself out there with more availability in multiple ways.

Are you a single-fandom blog, or are you crossover friendly? If you’re not crossover friendly, try to think of a single, relatively popular fandom that you enjoy. Don’t look at it like a hassle, but rather, just another creative exercise. A serious pitfall of creating alternate universe versions of muses is to take the simplest route, merely picking something you want from that other universe and applying it to your muse with no relevant changes that would naturally occur from it. It isn’t just reductive as hell, it’s not remotely creative, it’s like sticking a sticker on your muse’s forehead and saying that’s a whole different muse. It’s neither attractive to potential partners nor going to sustain your own interest for long. You want this to be a passionate investment on your own end, for yourself.

What not to do:

Let’s say the fandom you picked to do crossovers with is based around magic, the main characters are witches, and they are divided into factions based on how their magical talents display and develop. Not only do you decide to make your muse a witch, you pick the most badass faction. It’s the one full of assassins and action and (metaphorically or literally) sex appeal. Well, that’s also going to be the most popular faction in the fandom. That means there will not only be plenty of big name canons there but also that there’s going to be a plethora of OCs designed just for this universe...and other crossovers from other currently active fandoms.

While that might sound like it’s great for maximizing interaction chances, it’s really not when you’re just starting somewhere new with a character from another fandom that might not be known or liked. It can also take a minute in another fandom’s RPC to identify where the good partners are. Every now and then, it is the most popular and over-populous era/faction/etc., but most of the time, it isn’t. People who write with considerable dedication and talent fairly rarely are in the popular kids club even in their fandom choices. By inserting yourself into that area, you might be bypassing (and being bypassed) by better partners on the assumption that their characters are simply going to bore you to death since they’re not within the scope of your focal point.

It’s not a situation of not being allowed to be picky, you not only have that right regardless of your situation, you also should be. This is not a “beggars can’t be choosers” situation, you’re not beholden to anyone on the basis of being new and bored. However, some of my best, and longest lasting, writing partners over all 23 years I’ve been RPing didn’t/don’t fit with all the exact surface details that automatically draw my interest. It is as true within my own fandom as it is in dealing with crossovers. Opposites (with enough similarities) really do attract and work out well together!

Don’t judge and write people off for anything that isn’t an issue of compatibility with your muse, your writing, or yourself. Decline someone because they do one line only and you are novella, they write topics that are upsetting to you, you can see no way your muse and theirs can interact without instant murder, or because you cannot stand writing with someone who is pulling 90% aesthetics and purple prose. Not because their muse is a witch who uses life-based magic, loves nature, is a healer, and into their health...while your muse in this AU is all about the death, only appreciates an urban environment and is grossed out by animals, kills as an occupation, lives on cheeseburgers and caffeine. You see what I’m saying? Don’t limit yourself unnecessarily!

What to do:

Did you consider if, in that hypothetical idea of a fandom, your muse based on their purely canon self would even fit into that faction? Or is it just something you wanted to see? If you didn’t consider this, or it was the latter, fix that. That’s bad.

If you’re not absolutely dead set on that and only that, think about what really does fit the muse better. Maybe, they would be better as a healer, someone who messes with the very fabric of reality, or someone who manipulates natural elements at will. Then again, they might not even be a witch. They could be more mundane in terms of power, but more accurate and interesting as a normal, human (or whatever). They could even be greatly opposed to the use of magic and witches. Use your muse’s original canon as a base to decide these things.

If you are absolutely dead set on it, though, you have a lot of work to do making the character into what amounts to a markedly different one while still retaining some recognizable aspects of themselves. Consider what events, in this new universe of fandom, might have happened to alter the character thus. Keep in mind that even small changes can have great consequences in a character’s development, and you might need to think about the myriad ways in which that can display, how it changes still more things for this character.

While that job becomes so much more intense when you haven’t planned out a path that matches your muse’s canon characterization at all, it is still an important part of constructing an AU, of any kind, in general. Ask yourself what experiences led to the character you know as you already know them (including your own headcanons, yes). Then, find similar possible experiences within your new fandom verse that can have the same effect. Again, though, it’s important to understand that you are never going to have an identical set of experiences, so you need to explore relevant changes still.

When you do this, you’re allowing your muse to more seamlessly fit into this other universe in a fleshed out, interesting way. Interesting both new partners and yourself.

Okay, next obnoxious question from me! Do you have multiple verses, or are you single-verse?

Whether you are already exploring new fandoms or not, by creating a variety of verses for others to interact with, you’re increasing your chances for interest and activity. When you have a verse from a different fandom you can then, additionally, advertise your presence in both that fandom’s tags when you do a promo or applicable open starter and on active RPer lists for that fandom.

Every popular fandom has such lists. You can get on them by messaging/sending an ask to the blog or by reblogging their post to be added, following the directions. I haven’t seen one yet that doesn’t allow for crossovers. You simply have to tag it as stated in the post, such as “your canon’s name here - original fandom name - crossover.” By tagging your open starter or promo as “-insert fandom here- rp” and “-fandom here- open starter” you allow people in that fandom to find you to interact. Either way is excellent for getting started in totally new places with a character others might be unfamiliar with.

Please remember that if you tag a promo as “promo,” it’ll not show up in searches off of your blog. You know, where it actually needs to be searched. Thanks, tumblr, for being janky! Being more specific as to the fandom and character will help others actually find you. Don’t shoot yourself in the foot by tagging it as “promo.”

Make your verses accessible on your blog itself, in the nature of those verses, and how you set up your page or post that lists them.

Don’t put any page behind an impossible or complicated aesthetic. You really shouldn’t anyway, but when you’re needing interactions, it’s actively hurting your chances. Many people don’t want to have to play a game with your theme, it’s a turn off. Try a pinned post that lists all of your links to important pages like rules, verses, and bio instead. It means that, even from the dash, that information can quickly be found while other muns are first interested, and also that anyone who might be using the app can access it more expediently. (I’m genuinely not a fan or big supporter of doing google docs for rules, verses, bios, etc., as it forces people off site, so I can’t personally say, in good conscious and honesty, that I’d recommend it, but you do you!) You want to keep things quickly accessible is the idea here; when people are interested, you want to catch them right then and there before they have a chance to forget and lose your blog.

As to the nature of the verses themselves, give people real options. Don’t have 20 verses that all read same way. Same themes, plot possibilities, and backstories, or incredibly similar names. Have a diverse list of verses that can act as foundations for a variety of different muns. As many fandoms as you can reasonably have a good portrayal of, and different types of fandoms; not all the same genre (all fantasy, all horror, all scifi). Verses where your muse has substantially different goals, occupations, and other life situations that will involve another muse; don’t make your muse A Warrior™ in every verse, you can keep plenty of those aspects without being that literal. People love “modern” verses set in our own universe and, usually, in our own era. That doesn’t mean you have to go stereotypical or otherwise bore yourself by doing the standard “high school/college verse,” for instance. You don’t even have to designate that sort of thing, let alone make it the focus; simply create the verse by considering what your character really would be like if they existed within your reality.

As a final note on verses as pertains to this point, when you’re doing crossover verses, it’s alright to do some verses where your muse from their own canon existence somehow ends up teleported or whatever to another fandom’s reality, or even our own. Just don’t make every verse like this, it puts the onus of a great deal of creativity and effort onto the other mun by default; your muse has cluelessly dropped into the universe, and while it is high drama time for you, the other mun has to babysit, educate, deal with fallout, etc.

On making the list of your verses accessible, you want to focus on ease of browsing and not being overwhelming. People tend to look through a verse page and not read every verse listed, rather, they look at the titles and breakdowns to see if it is of interest, then read it. Don’t try to make everyone read them all, it isn’t going to happen, and shouldn’t change your effort any as the right people are going to find the verses that interest them...if you make it clear and easy enough.

Have a basic format you stick to, firstly. I do it this way: small verse banner, title of verse (linked to its overall tag so that muns can look through the tag at headcanons, aesthetics, pictures of the FC, and threads), muse age/age range, small blurb, possible triggers found uniquely or just heavily within this verse. In that order, one following the other in a simple, but pleasing way. Below that, is a more in depth breakdown of the “verse canon.” Sometimes, that is giving a brief rehashing of canon itself and anywhere my muse differs, be it in this verse only or overall, ending with where my muse is in this verse. Not literally where. I mean their present occupation, emotional and general state in life. At the very end, I provide any other relevant links and/or an expansion on the triggers mentioned at the top of the verse description if they’re that serious/recurrent so that muns can decide this isn’t the verse for them. I happen to have a potentially triggering muse, triggering verses, and writing triggering topics, though. That’s not something everyone needs to do.

Secondly, group your verses in a sensible way. I do my short list of default verses first. (And, I do mean short, you don’t want this be any more than four or five, it is overwhelming right out of the gate.) For me, that is two default verses of canon at different points on the timeline, one default AU that is a bit of a reversal of canon, and one default “modern” verse. Then, I list the verses that are in line with the altered canon one, just different possibilities, changes, points in history. After that, the different “modern” verse options. Then, verses for other fandoms, the crossover verses. And so on. This way, a potential partner can find the type of verse that might appeal to them and have an easier time picking from those possibilities and getting ideas.

Lastly, don’t be so succinct that you give too little information and underwhelm, but also don’t be so excessive that it takes all of the mystery of interaction away and overwhelms someone. It can be a difficult balance to strike, and some verses require more information than others, just experiment a bit. Additionally, it’s fine to link to pertinent information for the other mun to view aside from this, but don’t just link people to a fandom wiki as your “description/bio.” That isn’t giving information on how you write this muse, approach this fandom, or what another mun can otherwise expect. Keeping your descriptions interesting is important, you’re not giving a boring lecture, you’re trying to inform someone while making them hyped for their choices. It’s more interesting, and informative, to read if you do them with an ear to the “tone” of your muse in that verse. Is it a sad one? Sound that way. These can, indeed, function as snippets of your writing, so be sure you are writing them with the same care you should be giving your replies; spellcheck, good word flow and use, mind the grammar, and read over what you’ve written for common, easy mistakes.

Again, by giving a genuine variety of verses to choose from, you’re allowing for a greater reach in potential partners. Everyone from those still in your original fandom to those in new ones, all the way to fandomless muses will be able to interact with you this way.

Finally, in regards to what you can change or do when you’re in a dead fandom and seeking interactions; make sure you are increasing your reach by using proper tags, being honest about what and how you write, and don’t wait for others to stumble across you.

When you use tags properly, you’re increasing your chances of being seen at all. Every time you post something at all applicable on your blog, tag it with relevant things. Tag as described above with whatever fandom it is and “RP,” your character’s name, “open RP,” character name and RP, indie RP, open starter, and so on. Be sure you are optimizing your tags by placing the most relevant to finding you in the first four, those are what show up in site-wide searches only. Anything after that isn’t going to appear in a search across all tumblr.

By tagging your character’s name, as a canon, you should know that you are likely to get personal blog interaction. I’m pretty against being nasty to personal blogs for no reason, as I don’t appreciate personal and fandom blogs being shitty to me for the sole reason that I am an RPer. Please, use clear, short, attention getting directions for them. If you want no interactions with them, put right in the description of your blog “RP blog, does not interact with personal blogs.” When you say things like, “personals dni,” or “personals blocked,” you’re not doing anyone any favors. Personal blogs often don’t even know what the hell a personal blog even is! They do not denote themselves this way, to a personal blog, they’re just a blog. By designating first that you are an RP blog, you’re making it clearer that they’re the personal; they’re obviously not an RP blog, so that must make them a personal. Follow this up in a pinned post, right on top. Give a note to personal blogs that describes them as “any blog that isn’t an RP blog” first, then either tell them in brief what they can and can’t do or that you don’t interact and will block.

I don’t recommend taking your blog off of being findable, however. That’s alright once you have the RP activity you are looking for, but until then, it’s working against you. Other RP blogs cannot easily find you either, they will only find you if you’re on a list or appear in their recommended blogs, if you interact with a mutual, or are recommended by a mutual. You’re not just lessening your chances of personal blogs finding you, so if you have that turned off, turn it back on.

Don’t entirely rely on others finding you regardless, though. You can’t be 100% passive when you have no interactions, and by relying solely on serendipity you’re far less likely to get them. I know that everyone here is terminally shy, but seriously, you have to do more than put your silent will into the universe that someone perfect find you. You have to make this happen. Once you get a few people, you can afford to be more passive. Not only do you have some people to write with, you will be more visible to their mutuals, and more established as a presence. I’m not saying this is easy, or that it will become easy, not awkward or stressful, if you have a legitimate issue behind the shyness. Just that it is the only way to really proceed, and I believe you can do it!

So, go looking for interesting blogs. Be crossover and OC friendly (again, this doesn’t mean “accept everyone,” there are valid reasons for not accepting people you won’t work out with that have nothing to do with their fandom or being an OC), and search those fandom’s RPCs, following any blogs you think you might work out with upon reading their rules and other pages. Search for fandomless OCs and do the same thing. Fandomless OCs aren’t just floating around in the ether, they just weren’t created expressly for a particular fandom and within its confines. What is excellent about that is their ability to have a wide variety of verses and many possibilities to fit into any fandom or verse. So, don’t count them out solely on the basis of being an OC and fandomless. It doesn’t mean what people seem to think it does!

Do not stop at having followed 50 blogs. I mean, other than that you probably should stop following people for a bit. That you should do, as you need to be building writing relationships here, not following so many people that you cannot get to them. Don’t just stop at the follow, though. Since you’ve read their rules and information like a good RP partner, you should have some idea of what their interests are and where they align with yours, as well as how they prefer to be approached, if they accept memes right away to start, need plotting, have a rules password. When they’ve followed you back, proceed with interaction!

Ask if they’d like to plot when they have time, you’re really looking forward to writing with them. But...have some idea of a plot, please. It is a serious turn off to have someone message you wanting to plot, only to reply and get “lol I don’t have any ideas, anything works for me/whatever you want to do.” That isn’t plotting, it’s one party coming up with ideas and constructing a plot while they’re being told “I’m fine with anything.” That may be true, but it’s disheartening and a red flag for many people. If you genuinely can’t come up with anything, pick verses that match up well and suggest doing something within them.

“When you have the time, would you be interested in discussing writing? I was looking at your verses, and I think your verse -name- and mine, -verse name-, would mesh well.” Is a good way to start. Once you have a discussion flowing about the verses meshing and the muses, it’s typically easy to organically develop some plot ideas to go off of.

If both you and the other mun are alright with plot-free interaction and memes, you can send a meme any time. If you can’t find any memes on their blog, look for a wishlist or navigation page that shows you the tags for memes/wishlist. Still can’t find it? Ask them if they’ve got a wishlist or meme tag you can look through.

Additionally, if open starters are a thing you both do and are alright with, find some of theirs and respond. Post your own, tag it appropriately to be found in general and on your blog, and reblog it once or twice. Don’t excessively reblog it, and don’t get upset on the dash if no one interacts with it or any memes you reblog. Both are demanding to outright guilting, and not a good way to get partners. Just provide them with the ability to easily interact by making the posts available in the first place and by making them findable on your blog search and navigation.

Provide something for potential partners to see. Since you said you already do have writing, that’s great! That’s content on your blog that your partners can view. However, since you’re also having the issues you’ve stated, it’s likely that you haven’t many new posts. Show that you are active, interested in being here, and how you write your muse (and in general) by posting some newer content. For original content, do a headcanon or some meta, or post about new verses you are adding, the changes on your blog, a promo. For reblogs, things pertaining to your muse like canon imagery, fanart, quotes from canon or that generally express your muse, and aesthetics relevant to your muse are all excellent things to queue.

Use that queue. Not only do very few people appreciate having dash spam of similar content for the comparatively short time you might be around, but also, running these things on a queue means you spread that out for maximum view. While there are hours of heavier activity, you’ll have mutuals who are on at unusual hours due to their life and preferences or their timezone. This way, you’re not appearing inactive, if not outright invisible, to those mutuals. It’s not a bad idea to use a queue tag so that people know if they interact with a post that’s been queued, you might be here to quickly respond.

Ultimately, to fix your fandom and lacking partners problem, you just need to up your availability and reach beyond that fandom alone. Be proactive in following and approaching, decline blogs based on not working out only, utilize tags and fandom RPer lists, have everything on your blog easy to follow and not overwhelming, and have your verses meet as wide of a range of people as possible while also not being overwhelming.

Try updating your promo, as well, by the way. They’re not dead, they just really tanked when people kept making them based solely on aesthetic principle instead of being at all informative about the muse. They do seem to be coming back, so it’s a thing to consider.

Yes, make it visually appealing, it will draw people to reading it. No, do not just use a song lyric or quote with words highlighted linking your rules, verses, bio. Tell people basic info like the age of your muse and yourself, if you are multiverse and multiship, your muse’s canon verse and a couple of big interest verses of other major fandoms or themes that tend to be of interest to people, and what kind of RP you write - one line/para/multipara/novella. Absolutely give links to rules, verses, bio, and either memes, wishlist, or open starters, but give them just like that; make it very clear what this link is to. Put a very short statement of interest on there denoting that you’re expanding to new fandoms and looking for writing partners.

Do not sound desperate, demanding, or devaluing of yourself. Don’t say shit like “because my fandom is dead,” “trying this before I give up and delete my blog,” or “I suck at interaction/writing/ooc interaction/being a person but welp giving it a try, so follow and hit that heart.” (Conversely, calling yourself derogatory things and implying that your partners are too, such as the “we’re all just losers here” shit.) All of the above are not attractive, and they’re not even surprising enough to stand out anymore. It’s another reason to scroll right by that promo because nothing at all was different or of interest.

And as a wrap-up/rehash of the first topic, getting muse back: try starting over at the beginning by approaching the media involving your muse that has really stuck with you emotionally over the years, and exploring and developing your muse again.

Don’t tell yourself you can only write, for example, at home, on the laptop, after 7pm, and with a pop toy staring at you. The best thing about writing, as opposed to so many other hobbies, is that you can do it anywhere! So, do that. Do it any time you both feel the inspiration to do so and aren’t going to get fired or expelled for it. This isn’t work, it’s something enjoyable that does take effort (like literally all creative activities and skills do), but approaching it as though you need to follow novel writing advice from someone who has never published anything of note and isn’t you on the internet, with strict rules for success makes it feel that way. So does being frustrated with a dead fandom, no interaction. It’s disheartening, feels as annoying and fruitless as work often does. You probably need to break out of that mindset, and you can only do it by beginning to allow yourself to be creative on your own terms, entirely for yourself.

Do write simple things at first that you are inspired to do (you can’t get a scene out of your head, or a bit of dialogue), and/or headcanon/character development memes and question lists. Build from there as you get back in touch with your muse, writing things primarily or entirely for yourself still. Expanding on headcanons, doing some meta, or maybe writing out a missing piece of canon or what you’d be interested in seeing happen in canon if some event was altered.

Doing this sort of thing, you are getting in touch with your muse again and back into the real spirit of writing creatively, simultaneously.

Whatever you find most inspiring, do it. If it’s watching the movie or show again, do that, have it on while you write or simply think on the character’s actions, thoughts, and emotions during those scenes. If it’s reading the material again, do that, and read snippets of personal importance before you write. Maybe it’s some past playlists you can have on while writing, or even while you’re cleaning, walking the dog, driving or riding somewhere. It could even be your own previous writing! Go ahead and re-read that, it sounds like you still appreciate it, and that’s truly promising. If you find that you’re horrified by some of the things you’ve written in the more distant past, hey...that’s not just valid as hell, it’s natural. You know what else it is? An inspiration. You can clearly see that you could do better, that means you now know how to do better and are ready to do so. Validate yourself, prove it to yourself by rewriting or fixing something.

Don’t delete the blog or archive it. It is unpleasant to have a dead blog around, but don’t keep it dead. Use the same blog and simply transition it into wider things that will net you more partners and the interactions you deserve.

Look, even if you weren’t the most popular blog in your fandom before it went quiet, you really appreciated the blog, muse, and writing you were doing. You’ve defined that it wasn’t something you did to cause this situation, you just had the shit luck we all run into eventually of being in a fandom that ran out of material or interest. People are really fickle, so by taking a wider approach and fixing on the writing and muse instead of fandom now, you’re stopping this from repeating. Seriously, on a long enough timeline, every fandom dies or goes into hibernation. If you make a whole new blog with a different muse, it is going to happen again eventually.

So, don’t feel like you’re ridiculously clinging to the past and need to move on, you’re just sticking to something and can continue to stick to it through the next five fandom deaths. Just because it is the most popular thing to do to drop muses, constantly add new ones, and have this attitude that you can “blog refresh” your way out of recurrent, and inherent, problem doesn’t mean it is actually the right thing to do. It’s not even the most sensible, and certainly not the best thing to do with anything you’ve spent time and effort on.

That’s your incentive; yourself, the time and care you’ve put in, and your continued interest in writing and the muse. You’ll find good people, and bluntly, everyone else can fuck right off when you’re incentivized by yourself. It becomes a self-fulfilling activity at that point, I swear, and it feels really nice.

Just get back in touch with your muse and writing itself so that you can begin to expand and start interacting again!

[thiswasinevitableid]

Okay well then!!!! I am very glad and excited to share my most recent idea I had while rereading Yeti Hunting again!! And the new Incubus one too!! They're almost exactly the same idea, just different flavors I suppose. Also Joe is trans in both the ideas but that's less to do with the ideas themself and more to do with just me projecting on him sgfjgsjfhsjdh

Okay so it's like a reverse au so Stern is some kind of cryptid, but as far as Barclay knows they're just two good human friends (but maybe they wanna be a little more than friends...). And then one day Joseph goes into heat and tells Barclay he's sick to try to keep him away, but Barclay being the sweetest man alive goes to his house with fresh soup to take care of him and Joe seems really panicked about Bar being there and tries to make him leave but he is CLEARLY unwell and Barclay is very stubborn when it comes to helping people he cares about and so he plants himself down on the couch and says he's not leaving until Joe tells him what's wrong and Stern tries to hold onto his human form but it's taking too much focus and energy and whoops Barclay finds out his friend not human and currently in distress and so horny it hurts and if he can help his friend and fuck him at the same time, well then that's just a win all around (bonus points if at the end Barclay is kinda sad because he thinks Joe just needed somone to fuck him, not nessacarry Barclay, but Joe frantically assures him that he is SUPER into him and if it were anyone else he would have kicked them the hell out and probably skipped town bc he couldn't trust anyone else with a secret like this).

Or!! (This is where the incubus part comes in) Joe is an incubus and currently hiding out in his human disguise at the Amnesty lodge and it's going fine for a while, but then he starts talking to and getting to know the really hot chef. And they slowly start growing closer and closer. And maybe in this world, the power an Incubus gets from sex depends just as much on their desires as it does the human's. And this has never been an issue for Stern before, but now he's falling for Barclay and wants him and no one else so he's getting less and less energy from his encounters and Barclay is worried about him because he doesn't seem like himself anymore. Almost as if he's... dulled? When Barclay looks at him the blue of his eyes seem muted and his general aura seems... gray. And it all comes to ahead when Joe finally stops insisting he's fine and after dinner one night he asks if he can speak to Barclay privately, and he comes clean about everything and Barclay, while a little shocked, rolls with it very well and cups Joe's face in his hands and kisses him softly and it like,,, you should have come to me sooner, I'd do anything for you,,, and yeah it's really tender,,,,

Okay that's it I'm sorry it's so long and probably incoherent. I tried to use at least little formatting to make it better but it's a tumblr mobile ask, I'm not sure even the new paragraphs will translate over. The general idea is that they're close friends and Stern is Not Human and Barclay finds out under less than ideal circumstances :3 I know these are far from original or unique but I just wanted to share my ideas with you bc you're the inspiration for a good 70% of my private writings, but if you like them enough and ever feel like doing something with them that'd be cool ;3

Here you go! I went with scenario one. Content Note: some “mating” talk and mild subdrop at the end (which is, of course, taken care of)

The two canvas bags are ready to burst. Barclay peers into them, contemplating the addition of another box of tea, in case Joseph doesn’t like the other two. Mama was cagey when he asked, he doesn’t know what’s ailing the other man, only that he’s sick. 

Joseph manages Amnesty Lodge, where Barclays’ been a cook for the last six months. Barclay was initially wary of him; his cosmopolitan bearing and clean-cut appearance is so out of place in the rustic mountain town of Kepler that the logical explanation is he’s one of those city types who fell on hard times and got stuck here. 

It took less than forty-eight hours for him to prove Barclay wrong. Polite and polished, efficient and stunningly good in a crisis, Joseph handles the day to day chaos of the lodge while Mama, the owner, took care of the big picture stuff. His friendly greetings and consistent compliments about Barclays cooking gradually turned to afternoons spent at a table with his work so they could talk during lulls in business. 

When Joseph leaned against the counter, sleeves rolled up, laughing as he helped Barclay tidy the kitchen, the cook rushed headlong into his crush and never looked back. He regularly dreams of blue eyes and a movie-star face, finds his day doesn’t really start until Joseph pokes his head in to say good morning. 

He’s been without that greeting for two days now. Joseph never misses work, and his sudden absence worried Barclay enough that he checked with Mama to be sure the manager was okay.

“Joe’s fine big fella, just under the weather is all.”

The one time Barclay got sick, Joseph brought him tea and soup himself, checked in on him every hour, and--if Barclay’s fever addled brain is to be trusted--fluffed his pillows. It’s the least Barclay can do to drop off snacks and be sure his friend is okay. 

It’s a short drive to cabin Joseph calls home; he used to live at the Lodge, but as it got more crowded, he moved to his own space so those who needed a cheap, safe place to stay could have one. 

His knock on the door is answered by a brisk, “Who is it?”

“Barclay. I, uh, I brought you a get-well gift.”

Joseph opens the door to the cabin and to an entire new universe of fantasies. His normally slicked-back hair falls, relaxed, across his forehead, his loosely tied blue robe shows a tantalizing V of skin, and the dreamy-sleepy expression makes his face even more kissable. 

“Hi.” Joseph takes a step forward, taking the bags and bringing his face achingly close to Barclays’. Then he freezes, reversing into the house, “I, um, it was very sweet of you to bring all this. But you need to go.” He takes another step back, then doubles over with a groan. 

Barclay hurries across the threshold, setting the bags on the floor and steadying him over to the couch.

“Fuck, do you need me to get you like a heat pack, or a puke bucket?”

“No, no I just need to lay down, and for you to g-” he shudders, curling in on himself and tipping sideways. 

“Joseph, you’re really sick, I’m not gonna just leave you here. I mean, fuck, what if it’s your appendix or something?” He sits down next to the shaking man, rubbing his back comfortingly. 

“It’s not, I promise. Oh lord” he whines, looks at Barclay with frantic eyes, “I hope you can keep a secret.”

“Of course I can. Whatever I can do to help, I want to.” 

“Careful with those promises, big guy.” The nickname comes out in a growl as Joseph stands, undoing his wristwatch. 

“Oh FUCK!” Barclay scrambles back, almost falling over the arm of the couch.

There’s a monster where Joseph just was. Years ago Barclay saw a Maned Wolf in a zoo, and he’d swear that’s what he’s looking at now were it not for several glaring issues. First, it’s standing comfortably on two legs. It’s paws are more like hands, able to hold the watch and adjust the collar of its shirt. And he’s never seen a wolf, maned or otherwise, with spines down its back and a whip-like tail.

The creature runs a clawed hand through the fur at the top of it’s head, the way Joseph does when he’s nervous,  “So. I can’t tell you everything, at least not right now. What I can tell you is that this is the form I was born into, somewhere far away from earth.”

“Okay.” Barclays brain grinds like a broken ice machine as a familiar voice speaks to him from a fanged mouth. 

“I, um, I’m what humans call a Chupacabra. To answer the usual questions: no, I’ve never been to Puerto Rico. No, I don’t eat goats. And no, I’m not going to eat you.”

“Okay.” His heart is still racing, but not from fear, which is the most confusing was this could have gone.

Pointed ears flick, worried, “Are you in shock?”

“Kinda, yeah.” He nods as Joseph sits next to him with a heavy sigh. 

“I’m sorry. I didn’t want you to find out this way. I took the next few days off to avoid this exact scenario. I figured I wouldn’t see you, but forgot how thoughtful and caring you are.” Claws gently stroke Barclays hair, “my wonderful Barclay.”

He’s about to bring his hand up, cup those strange fingers to his cheek and whisper “always”, when Joseph pulls away. 

“I, I’m sorry. Again. I always get too handsy when I’m in heat. That’s the second worst side-effect, after the fact that being in my disguise is untenable when I’m in the thick of it. It’s like wearing a wet, wool sweater made of nausea.”

“....Hold on, you had to take time off work because you’re horny?” 

“Almost. Heat doesn’t come that often for me, which means whenever it happens, it’s intense. I have a hard time eating or sleeping, I can’t focus, and I spend most of the week masturbating. Which is not as fun as it sounds; I’m not even at the height of the damn thing and last night I humped a pillow on the kitchen floor while dinner reheated.”

Barclay groans, tries to hide it when the ears swivel his way, “Uh, guess I’m glad I brought you lots of food so you remember to eat. Shoulda, uh, put some lube or something in there as well, huh?” 

Joseph chuckles, “My nose tells me you put molasses cookies in there, so I’ll let it slide.”

“There anything else I can do to help?”

“Well…” he shakes his head, “never mind, I can’t ask you to do that.”

“Do what?”

“My heat is more manageable when I have a partner. Fucking someone relieves things more effectively than masturbation does. But I can’t-”

“I can help with that.” The offer is out before his brain catches up with his mouth. 

“Barclay, my kind have a very, um, involved mode of, um, well, I guess you foreplay. As, as much as I’d love for you to be my mate” he winces, “see, that’s what I mean. I say things like that, most of them not even possible given the fact you and I can’t reproduce.” 

“Uh, does it help if I say hearing you call me that is really hot?”

Blue eyes widen, and a tail traces up Barclays leg, “Only if you mean it.”

“I do.”

A narrow, long tongue flicks into the air, “In that case, big guy, how about we have a little planning session over dinner?”

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

Barclay parks in the driveway, next to Josephs’ sedan. He heads past the house and down a short slope to a creek, the twilight sky casting the forest in eerie grey-blue. There’s a tire swing leftover from a previous resident, and he idly pushes it back and forth as he waits for the game to start. 

“It’s like hide and seek” Joseph wipes his mouth, cleans cookie crumbs from the table, “We start outside, move inside, and you go as long as you can without me catching you. After all, I want a mate who can hold his own.”

He stuffs his hands in his jacket pocket to warm them. A yip bounces out from the trees behind him. When he turns, he quickly spots glinting eyes and bared fangs hidden in the undergrowth. 

Sprinting towards the cabin, he realizes Joseph laid a trap for him from the start; by asking him to begin at the creek, he’s forcing him to run uphill to safety, slowing him down. He lets his lizard-brain, concerned only with the fact that something dangerous is chasing him, take over and drive his legs as fast as they’ll go. The back door is locked, he double-checked that on the way down, so he doesn’t waste his time trying it, races to the front of the cabin and slams the door shut just as something huge rounds the corner after him. 

The nob jiggles, his pursuer testing the lock and discovering the thrown deadbolt. Barclay uses those few seconds to secure the windows on the first floor, throws his jacket down into the cellar as a failsafe, and bolts up to the bedroom. His hammering heart insists that locking that door is not enough, so he crawls into the closet and shuts himself up among the meticulously organized shirts and slacks. It’s not enough space for him to stand, so he tucks his knees to his chest and waits. 

“What happens if I, like, completely outsmart you.”

A toothy smile, “I wouldn’t worry about that if I were you.”

Each of the downstairs windows rattle in turn. Then the scratching starts, claws on wood coming closer with each breath. Joseph is climbing the wall up to the bedroom window that Barclay knows for a motherfucking fact he did not secure. 

A shuff as the window slides open, the cryptid landing with remarkable stealth on the bedroom floor. Barclay tracks him by the light coming under the closet door, his mouth covered so his breathing won’t give him away. The shadow pauses, sniffs, and then the bedroom door opens and shuts. Barclay’s not moving until he hears the front door do the same. 

Just as his legs start to protest being smushed up against his chest, the door reopens. Snuffling signals Joseph closing in, and an instant later the only light coming in is from the far ends of the door. Slowly, his last line of defense rolls to the right, revealing the creature crouching on the other side.

“Not a bad effort, big guy. You actually confused me for a minute with the scent trail of your coat downstairs.” Joseph reaches for him and Barclay, remembering that he’s not supposed to give up until he’s pinned, leans away. 

“That’s how my mate wants to play?”

“J-just following your instructions, babe.”

An intrigued purr, “I guess you are. All the more reason you’re the perfect partner for me.”

The words Barclays dreamed of hearing for months distract from the claws closing around his ankles. He lets out an undignified yelp when Joseph pulls his legs straight out and drags him out of the closet. Once he’s free of the forest of clothing, the cryptid picks him up and drops him on the bed. He moans and Joseph snickers, joining him on the bedspread. 

“Fuck, Joseph, no one’s ever been able to do that before and it’s so, so fucking hot.” He arches his back and shifts his limbs to help Joseph undress him.

“It’s because you’re the perfect size; big and strong, large enough to give me a decent cuddle when I’m human, but still small enough to be an easily subdued mate.” He gets the humans’ jeans and boxers off, hesitates, and then tosses them on the floor with a pained expression, “I’ll fold those later.”

“Gonna hold you to that. Also, wanna point out that it wasn’t that easy to subdue me.”

Joseph nuzzles his cheek, claws caressing his thighs, “Barclay, I was jogging while you were sprinting.”

“You coulda caught me right awaAAy ohwhatthefuck.” Tingling heat glides down his throat as Joseph licks a stripe along the skin, “fuck, it, it feels like the time I tried hot wax.”

The cryptid sits up slightly to look at him, “Is that a...good thing?”

“Fuck yeah. I really fucking liked it but it was fucking murder with the chest hair.”

Joseph runs his claws through the hair in question, “I like it.”

“I know, I saw you eyeing me that one time I used the springs at the lodge.”

“You can’t prove anything.” Joseph leans back down, curling his tongue around Barclays left nipple. The sensation makes him buck his hips, which Joseph correctly takes as a signal for more. He moves to the other side, takes his time teasing it and licking down the sensitive center of Barclays chest. Noses his stomach, nips his sides, and slides the alien heat of his tongue into the crease of his thighs. 

“Y’know I, ohfuck, I assumed from all that talk yesterday you’d get right to fucking me.”

Joseph kisses the inside of one thigh, “I, um, I thought about it, almost ripped your jeans to shreds and took you on the floor. But I wanted to be sure you were turned on. You’re not just a warm body, Barclay. You’re my mate. That means your pleasure matters as much as mine.” He licks up Barclays’ cock, hardened from rubbing against the soft fur of his belly, and sighs, “and what a mate.”

“Fuck” he squeezes his eyes closed because if we watches that mouth saying everything he wants to hear in between sucking his dick, he’ll cum in ten seconds flat. 

A final lick to the tip and then Joseph hops off the bed, “Did you prep the way I told you?”

“Uhhuh.” 

“Good.” Joseph returns, sets several items he can’t see by his feet, “that’ll make things easier. First things first” he produces a cock cage, sliding it into place, “these are a few things I smuggled over from my original home. This is enchanted, so it can go on an erect cock but still prevent the wearer from cumming until it’s removed.”

“That’s just cruel, babe.” He sits up on his elbows to kiss Josephs snout, earning him a pleased yip. 

“If you cum too fast, I won’t be able to properly breed you.” He winces again, “sorry, I sound like one of Indrids romance novels.”

“Again, gorgeous, I find it really fucking hot.”

The spines on Joseph’s back ripple, “You think I’m gorgeous? Like this?”

“I do. Also kinda scary, but in a hot way.” Now it’s his turn to cringe, “see? I sound like cheap porn written by an eighth grader when I’m horny. The way you sound is fine.”

Joseph lovebites his ear, then retrieves the other two items from the end of the bed. 

“And how does this look, big guy?”

“Like it’s either going to kill me or make me cum like a dozen times.” He furrows his brow at the strap-on. It’s narrower than the average human dick, with a pointed, slightly up-curved tip. What’s worrying him are the spikes. 

The entire shaft is coated in short protrusions. They don’t end in points, thank god, but if they’re at all stiff this is going to be miserable. 

“Here” Joseph waves him over, “touch it.” He guides his fingers along one side and the spines bend fluidly under his touch, and now all he wants to know is how they feel inside him. Joseph also moans, bucking his hips so the toy slides along Barclays palm.

“It’s, ohlord, also enchanted so that the wearer feels it as an extension of their body and can cum with it. Also, please decide in the next thirty seconds whether you want to be on your back or your stomach.” Amber pre-cum drips down Barclay’s fingers. 

“Stomach is better for meWHOAH, ohfuck, okay we’re doing this.” Now flipped on his belly, he raises his ass. The cryptid kneads it appreciatively before holding it open and sliding his cock in with once, graceful thrust. 

He bottoms out with a groan, which is more articulate than Barclay is managing to be as the spines rub and glide inside him, finding every patch of nerves, every angle to drag against in just the right way. Joseph hauls him onto his knees and then he’s off, growls and yips filling the as he fucks him. Barclay only just registers the bed banging into the wall so forcefully the headboard is cracking when claws sink into his hips and Joseph pulls him all the way onto his cock and pulses into him. 

“Holy fuck that was fast.”

“I, I didn’t jack off once today. Didn’t want to waste it, wanted to save it all for my perfect mate.” He’s thrusting again, not as hard but twice as fast, “shit, you feel so good, big guy, please tell me Mama okayed your time off for tomorrow.”

“Wh-why are we talkingAHnnn, about this now?”

Hot breath tickles his ear, “Because now that I know what’s like to cum in you, I don’t plan on cumming anywhere else for the next day and a half.”

“Ohfuckme” Barclay groans happily into the pillows as Joseph empties into him, cries out when his tail whips across his calf.

“Shit, did that hurt?”

“No, no it felt good, fucking-A babe every fucking part of you is amazing.”

The cryptid whines, pleased, and wiggles his hips, giving Barclay an idea. 

“That’s, uh, that’s why I want you for my mate, because you’re so fucking goo-mmph” his face presses harder into the pillows as Joseph pins his shoulders down and fucks into him, snarling “yes” over and over again. When he finishes this time he hunches over, nipping Barclay’ shoulders and neck. 

“You catch on quick, big guy.”

“Thanks, babe. Uh, are we gonna switch it up at any point or am I staying like this until tomorrow night?”

“No, we can fuck however we want. After” a fuzzy hand rubs circles on Barclay’s abdomen, “I’ve cum in you enough times that I can feel it from out here.”

Barclay moans, tightening around him as his hips snap once more, already imagining being full and fucked out. Maybe it’ll take all night. He’ll be limp if it does, but right now nothing sounds better than melting into the bed while Joseph fucks his ass like it belongs to him. 

After forty-five minutes, his cock is aching, his mind holds only thoughts of how good it feels to do as Joseph tells him, and he’s been cum in so many times that wet, obscene sounds accompany the cryptids thrusts. Said sounds pale in comparison to Josephs’ voice, which is spinning increasingly impossible scenarios the longer they’re in bed. 

“I hope they take after you.” Joseph murmurs. 

Barclay just manages to turn his head, “Who?”

A muzzle playfully nudges his cheek, “Our kids.”

His heart seizes and shakes at the words; they both know that’s not what will happen. Joseph warned him he might say things like this, said he could tell him to knock it off if need be. 

“Maybe they’ll, ahnn, they’ll have big, beautiful brown eyes and bigger hearts, just like you.”

He doesn’t want him to stop. Every thrust hits deeper, every point where their skin meets buzzes brighter when he talks like this.

“H-hope at least one looks like you, blue eyes.”

A guttural whine, tingling heat as Joseph laps tenderly at the back of his neck, “We’ll just have to see, usually we’re born in threes so, soOH, oh I’m close, shitshit” 

“That’s it babe, fill me up, c’mon, c’mon I want it so bad, Joseph, baby, please.” 

There’s a howltrill as cum spurts into him, Joseph panting as he smooths his hand around Barclays side.

“There, that’s done it.”

Barclay whimpers as he pulls out, his mind and body pulled tight, certain that if he doesn’t cum soon he’ll propose marriage instead and that’ll be a fucking disaster. 

Joseph carefully rolls him over and unlocks the cage, “Do you want to cum?”

“More than anything. Oh!” he’s unprepared for Joseph to sink down on his cock, “oh fuck, yeah, wanna cum so bad babe please, I’ll be so good, be such a good mate if you just let me cum in y-fuuuck” A trio of sensations levels him as he climaxes; his vision whites out, his hips jerk more violently than they ever have before, and a line of cum drips down his leg. 

Somewhere far away, Joseph says, “I think we’ve earned a break.”

He nods, body limp as the cryptid climbs off him. Then he’s falling, spinning helplessly down in a pit of realizations. 

Joseph didn’t mean any of those things he said. His friend needed a mate and Barclay, lovesick fool he is, was eager for a chance to play pretend that he didn’t think about what would happen when the game ended. Even if Joseph keeps him here through tomorrow, the next time they meet at the Lodge he’ll act like nothing happened. 

Fuck, Barclay didn’t even get to kiss him during all this, and now he’ll never get the chance, never, nevernever-

“Shit, I should have put a towel or a spare blanket down. Now I’ll have to strip the bed before I can--Barclay? Oh, oh baby, what’s wrong?” A hand pets his face and he turns away from it, refusing to open his eyes. Joseph takes his hand instead, “it’s okay, I’m here, whatever you need I’ll-”

“Don’t. Don’t say that. You can’t give me what I need, it isn’t your fault I, I know I’m not really your partner and I, I…” he sniffles, wipes his palm under his eye. 

“Barclay, look at me please.”

Reluctantly, he opens his eyes just in time to see Joseph dip down and kiss him. It’s awkward, their mouths not made to fit together, but he savors it all the same because it’s Joseph, his Joseph, kissing him like he hoped he would. 

“My heat can make me say some ridiculous things. What it can’t do is make me feel affection where none exists. In fact, the reason I wasn’t able to keep my disguise on yesterday is because being near you meant being near the mate I wanted most in the world. I, um, suspected you might share my feelings, but I didn’t want our first interaction as boyfriend to be me asking if you wanted to spend a day or so with me while I was in a sex haze. But then you offered to help, and I wanted it so badly that I barreled ahead without making sure you understood that this was me declaring my feelings. I’m sorry.”

Barclay climbs into his lap, not caring about the mess he makes in the process. The cryptid laughs, hugs him close.

“I, I shoulda said something sooner too. Not that I regret how we spent our first date.” He kisses Josephs chin.

“Me neither, though I don’t think it quite counts.” He rubs their foreheads together, “can your boyfriend take you out to dinner on Friday?”

Barclay grins, looks into loving, blue eyes, “Yeah, he can.”

[shaggi]

if i could stop time, i would

info ; eren x reader ; soulmates ; 1.8k

content warning ; end of the world concept, mentions of not really wanting to live lol, gentle angst

Day one. 72 hours until the world ends.

The world is going to shit. I know it is because I can hear the panicked buzz of mothers holding their children close and reassuring them as the news practically burned "we're all going to die" into our heads.

My fingers twitched as they held the dark blue fabric of my jeans. I'm terrified ㅡ as is the rest of the people watching the news ㅡ and it most definitely doesnt help when they plaster a large timer onto the screen counting down our days and hours left on our beloved blue planet.

"We never thought this day would come.. Ladies and gentlemen, we've reached the end of the chapter." The words echoed into the back of my mind. 'The end of the chapter'? I havent even really lived my life? I'm only seventeen.. I barely made it to graduation. I suck in a deep breath, filling my lungs fully before releasing the built up pressure.

Theres a burning sensation on my waterline, tears threatening to roll down my cheeks. My hands begin to shake when I think back to all the sleepless nights I spent not enjoying life. I took life for granted ㅡ and now it's going to end in three days. In seventy-two hours, it's all going to go away. That's not enough time to say all the things I didnt have a chance to say.

Wasted opportunities.

Wasted chances that I now no longer have control over.

My legs suddenly feel like spaghetti and walking seems like a foriegn topic to me. I just need to sit down, take a breather.

Who am I kidding. The storm inside me is raging on tonight and my hands have a handful of messy locks.

I catch glimpse of inked red calligraphy spelling out the name 'Eren' that is marked onto the inside of my forearm in small writing just an inch below my wrist. My heart swells with sadness.

The sense of realization settles in, practically telling me to 'let this sink in for a little'. I'm not ever going to get the chance to meet my soulmate. I'll never get the satisfaction of weaving their fingers with mine, to lay on the couch on cold winter nights with blankets drooped over our shoulders. Never get the chance to tell them I love them over and over again, to brush their hair behind their ears, grab them by the smooth skin of theirs and feel the fireworks of pressing my lips against their own.

I wont feel the sweet electricity course through me like people explained would happen when they touched their soulmate for the first time. I've spent seventeen years searching for this perfect person in the happiness of this little town. The universe promised a perfect person, they never promised me to meet them though.

The younger generations were lucky, for they werent born with marks. They werent tied to someone, so they dont have anything to lose other than the fact that they're too young to leave this world.

A crowd begins to pull outside, staring at the sky with both a mix of admiration and fear. The blue sky has begun to turn itself into a peach color. My town's happy vibe has now turned uneasy, scared, unsure.

That day, I walk home slowly when the sky begins to darken, taking the scenery of the autumn leaves disarray upon the concrete sidewalk. If the world is ending in three days, I'm going to make the most of it. Soak it up like a sponge. Do what I should've been doing these past seventeen years and love life for once ㅡ despite all the wrong. Despite the fact that I'll never graduate, and never meet my soulmate. I force myself to disregard the nagging thoughts that tug at my conscious.

I dont think about the fact that I'll never get a chance to buy my first apartment.

I dont think about how I wont be able to wake up every morning to make my significant other breakfast.

And I most certainly dont think about how I'll never be able to take my lovers hand at the alter and say with great pride, "I do."

Day 2. 48 hours until the world ends.

Today, I woke up early. Early enough that the sun still hasn't peaked over the clouds. They say that if you wake up early enough the day takes longer to end.

The aching pain in my chest never seems to cease. I laugh a little bitterly at the calander on the wall, I feel like its mocking me now. A part of me wants to rip the thing to shreds and scream until my throat is raw ㅡ but I said I'd make the best of these last days. So, I push these bitter thoughts from my mind and start up a warm shower.

Seventeen years of not wanting to be alive, and now I only have two days to live until the entire world completely goes to shit. Ironic, isn’t it? Why now am I so angry? The water is warm trickling down my bare body, as my shower thoughts continue treading forward to how I could make life better in less than forty-eight hours.

I walk down a different road today, deciding that routine wasnt necessary when the world is going to end in forty-eight hours. The countdown continues on nearby TVs, the bright white luminous against the dark morning sky.

It makes me feel anxious.

Destruction clouds my mind, but I bite my lip and hold my ground. This situation will not drive me crazy.

The town is a lot quieter than I expected, then again it's only 6 in the morning.

The day carries on just as any other day, the air seems heavier though. It's the night time that brings chaos.

You see, I've been walking around town all day blowing that last little bits of money I have on little things that have no purpose. The sky is the same sunset peach as it was yesterday, only barely hinting at a blue color.

There's a faint noise a few blocks from where I am standing, and at first I chose the ignore it. The yelling got louder and louder until I felt my feet pull like magnets to what was going on.

Chocolate hair, smooth tan skin shining under the soft orange of the sky, handfuls of someones shirt as this mystery man pinned some junky against the rough brick wall. His eyes held a killer glow, practically fuming from the ears. I was going to mind my own business, but then I saw the other strike at the brunette ㅡ and I dont know why, but I stepped in.

A surprise attack, a blow right to the face, maybe a minor bruise on my cheek from when the other decided to attack back ㅡ but soon he left. I turn my gaze back to the brunette who still sits on the floor, palms pressed into the concrete.

"I didnt need your help," he hissed, dusting his hands against the black fabric of his jeans.

"Oh you're welcome for saving your ass, wasnt a problem at all." My hand lifts to my face, pressing onto the bruise and wincing before squatting next to this stranger. "Is it bad? Let me see," The moment my hand makes contact with the others chin I feel the rush of electricity course through me.

Overwhelming is an understatement. Sweet emotions flooded through my mind but I can feel the pounding of fear in my veins, and bittersweet it was. When I retract my hand, I see that he's mirrored the exact expression I have; eyes blown wide, fear in the darks of his pupils.

"Eren..?" trying to keep my voice from cracking seems hard, and it comes out more like a whisper. This situation leaves a bitter taste in my mouth. Where the hell has he been for seventeen years? Why is he just now showing up?

Eren immediately sprung to his feet, taking a few steps back with no words to say. I snatched at his left arm, pushing the sweaters sleeve up and over his forearm to see my name inked in blue against his paper skin. "So.. you're my soulmate?" I promise I didnt mean to make it sound disappointed ㅡ but in a way, I guess you could say I was.

So many questions raced through my mind; but the biggest question of all was why? Why now of all times we could've met? Why must I be gifted with the worst luck.

Eren isnt a bad person though, and in the few hours we've spent together I can tell you this; His favorite color is red, he lives with his mother and a girl that his family took in when they were very little - who he loves dearly, he can play guitar very well, he looks absolutely adorable with his hair tied up, and that's only the stuff he's told me within the first hour.

Words cannot express how much I wished we could have more time together, but the bright TV clocks continue to remind me that our time is running out.

"There's nothing more I'd rather do than to spend my last moments with you," Eren whispered, golden flecks in his beautiful ocean eyes. His hand was held in mine as the pained expression washed over his face. Somewhere in the conversation led us to this point of heartbreak. We both explained how we wanted nothing more than to meet earlier in life, but apparently the universe had a different plan.

The idea of parting with Eren now just seemed like a waste, and I'd much rather take my dying last breath next to the one I looked for my entire life. Falling in love is easy when you've got nothing to live for.

The walk back to my house is silent, but it's a comfortable silence, and we never seem to let go of each others hands. The house is quiet and dark when we enter.

The rest of the remaining night we have is spent cuddled under the thick blanket of mine, Eren held me close to his chest as we whisper sweet things that wont mean much in a few hours. Chaste kisses are showered over the male as I remind him of how I never stopped searching for him.

He studied my face, moving a strand of hair behind my ear before placing his palm onto my cheek and rubbing his thumb across the smoothness underneath my eye. I could feel my breath begin to shallow and my heart skip a beat. I loved the way his eyes sparkled under my dim-lit room, the way I could feel his heartbeat pulsing from how close we lay where, how steady his breathing was, and how gentle he caressed me.

Its bittersweet, and I never believed in the after life, but with him - maybe, just maybe, we will meet again in the next life.