untildawnwrites-blog

[untildawnwrites-blog]

I promise I’ll never do this again, but here’s a reblog for the nighttime crowd!

“Up All Night For...”

When the blog hit a hundred followers (a while ago, jeez!), I found the person and asked them if they wanted a special request for putting the blog in the triple digits! It was another Josh request; you guys sure love that boy. <3

(PS: the title comes from Daft Punk’s “Get Lucky”!)

Pairing: Josh/Reader Romantic Summary: Rooming with Josh isn’t always easy. Especially when you come home late and find… well. Words: 940

You hadn’t planned on staying at the party as late as you had. Finals were coming up, and you had to be at the library exactly when it opened in the morning or else all the good study spots would be taken and you’d promised, promised, promised Josh you’d help him make sense of the chicken scratch formerly known as your chemistry notes. But, as usual with your group of friends, things got a little out of hand.

(Jessica and Ashley both had zero alcohol tolerance, and someone needed to make sure they kept their clothes on until the end of the night. That usually ended up being you, not that you minded. It was just a little frustrating because, again, finals.)

Keep reading

[untildawnwrites-blog]

“Up All Night For...”

When the blog hit a hundred followers (a while ago, jeez!), I found the person and asked them if they wanted a special request for putting the blog in the triple digits! It was another Josh request; you guys sure love that boy. <3

(PS: the title comes from Daft Punk’s “Get Lucky”!)

Pairing: Josh/Reader Romantic Summary: Rooming with Josh isn’t always easy. Especially when you come home late and find… well. Words: 940

You hadn’t planned on staying at the party as late as you had. Finals were coming up, and you had to be at the library exactly when it opened in the morning or else all the good study spots would be taken and you’d promised, promised, promised Josh you’d help him make sense of the chicken scratch formerly known as your chemistry notes. But, as usual with your group of friends, things got a little out of hand.

(Jessica and Ashley both had zero alcohol tolerance, and someone needed to make sure they kept their clothes on until the end of the night. That usually ended up being you, not that you minded. It was just a little frustrating because, again, finals.)

You were all prepared to sneak into your apartment. Shoes in hand, keys clutched tightly in your palm to prevent jangling, because despite the medications Josh had always and would always be the lightest sleeper ever (unless he’d been drinking, but that was another story a lifetime ago). You were cautiously, quietly slipping your key into the lock (because, yes, even that could cause the boy to stir) when you heard the music drifting out from the other side of the door. You blinked, and looked at your watch. It was one in the morning. Josh said he’d probably be going to bed early so you both could get your study time in–not that you really believed him, but he didn’t have a tendency to blast his music when he was up late that you knew of.

Rooming with Josh had always been a bit of a struggle. You could both be moody at times, unable and unwilling to interact with other people. Generally it meant you understood when was best to leave one another alone (or not, as the situation might require), but sometimes things could get uncomfortable. His habit of not wearing a shirt in the common areas of your shared apartment was one of those things that you just couldn’t agree on. He didn’t seem to understand that your red face and ears weren’t just from anger, but–well. The point of it was, you didn’t know what to expect when you walked into the apartment.

But it certainly wasn’t your roommate dancing to David Bowie and shaking his naked ass at you.

(Well, not at you, that would require his knowledge that you were there. But it was pointed at you, and your first thoughts were, I think he’s trying to kill me, followed swifly by, Damn, son.)

The choking sound that rudely (so rudely) interrupted Bowie’s sweet, sweet crooning must have come from you, because Josh was so startled by it that he almost fell over–and you realized at that moment that he had apparently been using a pair of white tube socks to slide around on your hardwood floors. He spun to look at you (and almost went a quarter-turn too far), eyes wide and mouth slightly agape, but you hardly noticed because you were certainly not looking at his face. Your cheeks and ears immediately turned fire engine red and you dropped your keys and covered your eyes with your hand.

“Um,” Josh said. He didn’t sound like his throat was constricting with extreme embarrassment (like yours was) and you peeked out from between your fingers before you squeaked and closed them again. He had done nothing to cover himself–typical fucking Josh, there!–but he did seem to be a bit sheepish. “I–I can explain?”

Keeping your eyes covered, you shook your head furiously. “Nuh-uh. I’m going to need you to put on some underwear before you do anything else.”

“I–”

“Josh,” you said, and your voice was hoarse. You were trying to sound firm, but you were having a hard time maintaining a grip on your sanity when he was still standing there entirely naked but for a pair of tube socks. It was hard enough when he just paraded around without the shirt, but this?? “Please put on some clothes before I spontaneously combust.”

Yikes, probably not the best choice of words. He always assumed before that you were angry at him for walking around half-dressed, probably because the red face was accompanied by shouting and throwing whatever object happened to be in your hand. But you were tired, and your buzz from the party was wearing off, and you had to get up and go to the library in less than six hours, and it wasn’t like you’d seen a lot of them to compare before but he had a very pretty dick and it wasn’t fair.

While you were thinking about his unfairly pretty dick and covering your face to avoid eye contact with it, Josh had sidled up closer to you. You could feel his body heat even through your clothes as he gently took your hand and pried it away from your face. You were still very red, and the smirk he was giving you was enough to send you off towards magenta. He kept your hand in his and gave it a light squeeze.

“Do you really think I have a pretty dick?” he asked.

Your mouth dropped open and if you hadn’t locked your knees you might have collapsed to the ground. His smile got even more smug and he took the opportunity to slide his hand around the back of your neck and pull your face towards his. You let out a sound, a mix between surprise and pleasure, and hummed into the kiss.

Josh was very displeased when you hauled him out of the apartment less than six hours later to study with you. (Normally you would bask in that lovely, lovely after-sex-plus-my-crush-likes-me-back glow, but, you know. Finals.)

[untildawnwrites-blog]

Hello, ducklings!

I’m just stopping in for a bit to remind you all again that I am not dead yet. I know, I know, you’ve been worried. The content hasn’t been coming out and I just disappeared without a trace. I can’t apologize enough for my absence from your dashes.

To make a long story short, my computer--the one that was freezing constantly and giving me no end of trouble--kicked the bucket about a month and a half ago. I’ve been struggling to scrape together some finances to replace it and things really haven’t been going my way.

But! I had a (somewhat) unexpected windfall in the form of a Christmas bonus, so I’ll finally have a new base of operations to work from! I’m so excited, it’s been a while since I’ve had a ~~new computer.

I will update all of you very, very soon, and thank you so much for your patience. I love each and every one of you!!!

[untildawnwrites-blog]

Hey, everyone!

I just want to let you all know that this blog isn’t dead! Work and life hit me like a Mac truck the last week or so, but I’m still in it to win it with all of you! The next few days are going to be busy, but I hope I can have a new batch of requests out for you very soon, and some headcanons as well!

I love each and every one of my followers, and the notes I continue to get even when I’m inactive keep me going through my busy schedule. Thanks so much you guys. <3

[untildawnwrites-blog]

I still cant find all of the fanfic (i was talking about the fic mike and reader go throught the sanatorium and reader protects mike and then she's a badass and also quite), im on my phone btw. I rly want to read it but i cant find it all :c

Oh, okay! I know which fic you mean now. I'm sorry, Anon. If you're on mobile your app should allow you to see the Read More under the first few paragraphs of the story. If you're having an error you might want to update the app or reinstall it. I'm going to give you a direct link at the bottom of the post but other than that I'm really not sure what I can do for you, hon! Let me know if you still have trouble.

[untildawnwrites-blog]

Hi im new to your blog and you know that mike imagine that the girl is a badass and quite (its a new imagine). It said there ot had 3000 and more words but I only can read a lil bit? You do it on parts, right? If yes, when will you post the 2nd one?

Hey, anon. I'm sorry that you can't see my whole fic! I think you might need to click the read more button on that post. I put it there so followers won't have all three thousand words of the story sitting on their dashboard. I can also link you to the full post, which is at:http://untildawnwrites.tumblr.com/post/131139935772/okay-first-woahhh-your-writing-is-kinda-amazing(On mobile again guys, sorry!)

[untildawnwrites-blog]

100+ Followers??

Holy guacamole, Batman!! That's a lot of people! Gosh, I'm just still in shock you guys! I never imagined I'd convince this many people I was worth a follow. I just want to tell you how much you all mean to me. Really, it just blows me away when I think about it. Thank you so much for following me. I hope I can make you all as happy as you made me. As always, please feel free to send me REQUESTS!! I have several PROMPT POSTS if you need a little inspiration!

[untildawnwrites-blog]

oh wow, that latest fic was brilliant and so SAD. poor Jess, I love her so much. any chance of a continuation with a reader-to-the-rescue for Jess while she's trapped in the mines? I just want that poor baby girl to be safe.

I actually have a request in my inbox along those lines right now! If it’s not part of the original request (I’m on mobile, I can’t access it right now) I’ll be happy to include it!

I will remind everyone that I answer asks on a first-come first-serve basis, so if you just submitted a request it could take some time for it to appear on the blog!

[untildawnwrites-blog]

(1) Deleted Scene: Enough

In the last fill I did (which you can find HERE), there was a scene that I wrote that I really liked that I ended up having to revise completely out of the story. I thought I’d share it with you guys here, a little more fleshed out! I hope you like it. <3

(Uh, as a warning, I should remind my readers that the views of the characters are subjective to each story, do not reflect on one another, and certainly don’t reflect on me.)

Pairing: Mike/Reader Platonic Words: 476

Mike tightened his hold on you so you couldn’t wiggle free, and the way Josh’s eyes widened and his babbling stuttered to a halt was very satisfying. “Stop it,” he said in your ear. You struggled again and he turned to Chris. “Look after him for a second, okay? I’ve gotta--”

“If you say you’ve gotta deal with this, I will tear you a new one, Michael James Munroe!” you shouted, attempting to get at least one of your arms free for leverage. “He killed her! You killed her, you sick fuck!” You directed the last at Josh, whose jaw had gone slack and eyes were only barely present. “What is wrong with you, huh? Wasn’t losing Hannah and Beth enough for you? For all of us?”

The shock of your words sliced through the air like a hot knife and for a moment Mike’s grip slacked. It was all the opportunity you needed to get free. You lunged across the room, not even sure yourself what you were going to do once you got your hands on him, but Chris managed to jump between the two of you and held you back. Mike had a hand wrapped around each of your biceps in seconds and you screamed.

“Let me go, let me go, Michael!” He didn’t listen and started dragging you towards the door. “No, let me go!”

Once you were outside and the cold was slapping you in the face again, you realized that tears had been streaming down your cheeks. Mike hauled you up in the air to prevent you from breaking free while he got you a safe distance from the shed. You shrieked at him, but when he set you down he simply wrapped his arms even tighter around you, bending over you in a huddle.

“Stop it,” he said firmly. You shook your head, though you didn’t try to struggle again. You were getting too tired. He adjusted his grip so it was less bruising. “You need to calm down. Like, right now.”

But you couldn’t. Jess was--she’d been your best friend for such a long time. Since before you’d even met Sam or the twins. She’d been the first person you ever told about yourself who didn’t immediately joke about how she wouldn’t have to worry about you stealing her boyfriend. She’d never cared or questioned how close you and Mike were, even after they started dating. She’d never, not even once, made that face at you when you made a sex joke.

You rocked, not so much trying to stay steady as trying to keep yourself together. Your arms had wrapped themselves around your waist under Mike’s without you realizing it. “She’s dead, Mike,” you gasped. He sighed into your hair, and you could hear the pain in just that one gesture.

“I know,” he said. “I know.”

[untildawnwrites-blog]

Okay first, woahhh your writing is kinda amazing!! and yeah this is gonna sound like a weird request but Mike/Reader friendship fluff where the reader is tiny but wants to fight everyone and Mike is the best friend who keeps them out of trouble. And the reader is like "The Wendigo. I'm gonna fight it!" and Mike literally has to drag them away from trouble. ^-^ Thank you!!

Ohmygosh thank you so so so much!! I’m so glad you guys like my writing, it really means a lot to me whenever I get a compliment like this.

(PS: I’ll have you guys know, on my main blog I tag this trashbag as “president babbu.” Don’t worry, trashbag is a loving nickname.

(PPS: Fun fact, I am big on height differences in friends/couples!!)

(PPPS: I hope this suits the fluffy aspect of what you asked for… I don’t seem to be very good at it! XD)

Pairing: Mike/Reader PlatonicSummary: You have the worst case of small dog syndrome any of your friends have ever seen. It’s probably going to get you killed someday.Words: 1539

You’d always been really protective of your friends, even overprotective. It wasn’t something you could really help, you’d rationalized, just the way you were born. Your mom was the same way, and the same size, as you. Never able to back down from a fight, whether it was her own or not. (Your dad eventually learned to just stay out of her way. You were starting to wonder when your friends would learn the same.)

When Mike and Emily had split over the winter break, you’d been very understandably upset. You’d counted Emily as a close friend of yours, a bond had grown between you when he started dating Mike. But when they broke up? Everything evaporated into thin air. If it wasn’t for the fact that she didn’t completely block you on Twitter and Facebook (like she did some other certain someones you were very close to), you would have thought that she’d only ever been your friend to get on his good side. You’d been angry for a long time and, as a result, grown very protective of Jessica.

“If she even breathes in Jess’s direction I’m gonna pop her one,” you’d told Mike on the drive up, miming a punch at the back of the cabbie’s head. Mike had just shook his head and calmly told you no, that was not a thing you should do. You ignored him. “Or your direction, for that matter.”

“And what about you?” Mike had said. You’d just shaken your head and nudged him with your shoulder.

You didn’t care so much what she might say to you. You could handle yourself in a situation like that–you’d certainly gotten in enough scrapes at school and sometimes even at work when your friends weren’t around to hold you back. And, most importantly, you didn’t care if you got hurt as long as they were safe.

Things started to heat up almost the minute you were all gathered in the same room. Heaven forbid there were two minutes of peace, right? You’d been in the middle of catching up with Jessica (you’d let her and Mike break off to have some alone-time earlier) when it started. Emily was barely in the room before she looked at the three of you standing together and decided that there was obviously something wrong with that. If you didn’t know that Mike was truly finished with her, you might have been convinced something was going on just by her tone. You shifted subtly, putting yourself between her and your friends, taking a stance that looked casual but put you in a prime position in case she came even a step closer.

“Em, I’m warning you right now, back off,” you said. The amount of venom in your voice was so strong that Mike actually grabbed your arm as if he was afraid you would leap across the room and attack the other girl.

Emily looked momentarily surprised, but crossed her arms and cocked a hip out as she smirked at you. “And what are you gonna do to me, bite my ankles?” she said. You didn’t give her an outward reaction and she snorted. “Of course, I should have known you’d jump to her defense. Tell me, does Mike know you’ve got a boner for his sweetie, or have you been keeping it to yourself?”

Again, you didn’t even blink. That insult was even stupider than the one about your height, and everyone knew it. Emily shifted on her feet when no one else seemed to have a reaction to what she said, and then finally scoffed.

“Whatever. Matt, are you sure we have all my bags?”

He jumped to attention and followed her back into the entrance hall. Mike finally let go of your arm and Jessica breathed a sigh of relief.

“I thought you were going to–” She cut herself off, realizing that what she was about to say didn’t sound very nice. Instead, she changed tack. “Why didn’t you stand up for yourself? You’re always so quick to jump in when it’s someone else. And the things she said–”

You shrugged. “I don’t care what she says about me; I know who I am and I’m okay with it. I do care that she lays off you. You’ve had a tough enough year already without all the added drama.” You caught her eye and she gave you a grateful smile. You nudged Mike with your shoulder. “See? I do listen sometimes. I didn’t lay a finger on her.”

“You threatened to,” he pointed out, but you waved a hand.

“Details, details,” you said. You started to walk away, calling out to Josh, “Hey, J! Didn’t you say you were going to set these two up in style?”

Later, you would regret asking about it. Later, you would think that you should have held on to the both of them and not let go. Later, you would wonder if they might not have gone without that little prompting question. Later, you would blame yourself for your best friend being dead–but not as much as you blamed him.

“Mike, let go of me,” you snarled, struggling against the arms he had around your waist. The minute Sam had taken her eyes off you, you’d shot out of the lodge and into the night after Mike and Chris, who had taken Josh to tie him up in the shed where he couldn’t hurt anyone else. Mike had grabbed you the minute you walked in the door, knowing exactly what your intentions were.

He tightened his hold on you so you couldn’t wiggle free, and the way Josh’s eyes widened and his babbling stuttered to a halt was very satisfying. “Stop it,” Mike said in your ear. You struggled again, and he turned to Chris. “Look after him for a second, okay? I’ve gotta–”

“If you say you’ve gotta deal with this, I will tear you a new one, Michael James Munroe!” you shouted, attempting to get at least one of your arms free for leverage.

“Okay, that’s enough,” Mike said, and he dragged you out into the snow. You continued to struggle and he practically curled around you to keep you from moving. He bent his head close to your ear and repeated your name over and over, quiet and calm, until you went limp. Tears were rolling down your cheeks, freezing almost instantly in the cold, and you could hear him whispering, “I know, I know, I know…”

“I just want to…” you stopped yourself, because if you ended that sentence the way you had originally intended, they might just tie you up next to Josh. “I just want…”

“I know,” Mike said again, and you knew then that he did.

He sent you back up to the lodge, reasoning (rightly) that you couldn’t stay with them and be around Josh without riling up your temper again. Though you wanted to protest, you knew that you should listen, and you finally trudged back up the mountain to join the others.

It wasn’t too long before he and Chris joined you again.

To make the long story short (because at this point you were just about d o n e with this rollercoaster of a night): cannibals. Supernatural cannibals who wanted to feast on you and your friends. As if your host being a wacko and one of your best friends being, you know, dead wasn’t bad enough. Honestly you were starting to feel like the night was some big colossal joke.

You raised your hand. “Yes, hi, sorry. Am I the only one here who’s wondering if Josh is going to pop out from around another corner and show off some more hidden cameras?”

That spurred Chris into gear, realizing that he’d left his “best friend” behind in the shed. Despite all the crazy stranger’s warnings, he was still determined to go and get him. As the group started to dissipate, Chris and Ashley walking down the hall and the others towards the basement, you found yourself clenching your fists so hard that your knuckles were cracking. You started off down the hall after Chris, and were drawn up short when Mike grabbed you by the wrist.

“Where do you think you’re going?” he asked pointedly, as if he already knew the answer. You raised your eyebrows at him and he scoffed. “No. Absolutely not. You’re not going out there to fight a wendigo.”

You tugged your hand out of his grasp and took another couple of steps. “What, you expect me to just sit back and do nothing, then? You know I can’t do that, Mike.” You shook your head at him and turned your back.

You really shouldn’t have done that.

The next thing you knew, Mike’s arm was around your waist and he had hoisted you over his shoulder in a bastardized fireman’s carry. You shrieked and punched him in the back as hard as you could.

“Mike! Put me down!” you shouted. He shrugged you higher, presumably to get you in a more comfortable position, and said nothing. You started squirming. “Michael Munroe, if you don’t put me down right now, I’m going to kick your ass!”

“Feel free,” he said, and kicked the door to the basement staircase shut behind him.

[untildawnwrites-blog]

Hey, hey!

I’m sorry that content on the blog has been so sparse the past few days. My computer has been running incredibly slow and freezing on me quite a bit. I’ve been running my defragmenter and letting it rest as much as possible.

I just want to let you guys know I appreciate every request and comment and like I get! Seriously, the smile I get when my phone lights up with a notification is so, so huge!

You can still REQUEST as much as you like! I’m working on fills all the time!

[untildawnwrites-blog]

Just wanted to tell you that I love your writing! You're very talented and have a fantastic grasp of the characters. And I especially loved that Matt/Reader fic! Have a lovely day. x

Ohmygosh thank you so much!! It means a lot to me to hear that you guys like my writing! I put a lot of work into it, so I'm glad it's paying off. There are some Matt/Reader requests in my inbox right now so you'll see those very soon!

[untildawnwrites-blog]

Detailed Headcanon Ideas

So, I was reading over some question things for characters and headcanons and thought of putting my own one together (this is by no means an extensive list, just a few ideas I had to waste time with later)

Send me numbers with a character and I’ll tell you –

Please, maximum of ten at a time just to make it slightly quicker for you :)

1) Their favourite time of year 2) If they like reading, and if so their favourite book 3) Their favourite type of landscape 4) Their favourite way to waste time 5) Their favourite type of music 6) Hobbies 7) Their happiest memory 8) Their most embarrassing moment 9) A cute best friend moment 10) Their best childhood memory 11) An awkward moment 12) If they have blemishes and how they got them 13) Their biggest regret 14) Their biggest fear 15) Any nervous tics they may have 16) Their calming techniques 17) How they cope with nightmares 18) Their most prized possession 19) One thing they can’t live without 20) If they collect things – if so, what 21) What kind of keepsakes do they have 22) What they think is the most important sense 23) If they know any other languages 24) If they have a good luck charm, if so what it is and why it’s important 25) How they spend rainy days 26) If they’re a doodler or a writer 27) How they sleep 28) How they hug 29) How they express love (platonically and/or romantically) 30) A skill that they’d love to have 31) If they found out they only had a day left to live, how they would use that time 32) If they were faced with a genie what they’d use their three wishes for and why 33) If they were offered immortally would they take it and why 34) If they had a spirit animal what form do they think it would take 35) Crossover things (e.g. which Hogwarts house would they be in, or what would their role be in a zombie apocalypse)

[untildawnwrites-blog]

“It’s Not a Matter of Time, It’s a Matter of Timing”

So when the blog hit fifty followers, I went ahead and found that fiftieth follower and asked them if they had any special requests. They did! Thank them for requesting the blog’s first Josh fill! <3

(PS: I got the title from Motion City Soundtrack’s “Timelines”!)

Pairing: Josh/Reader Romantic Summary: It’s been three years since you left Mount Washington behind you. You’re having a little trouble moving on. Words: 1579

Most of your friends had learned by now that there were certain days where bothering you was just a bad idea. The whole week surrounding the anniversary of the “Blackwood Incident” as the headlines continued to call it, or the birthdays of the Washingtons. (Josh’s especially was hard on you, though your friends never really commented on that.) Sam called it remembering, which was horseshit, and Chris called it grieving, which was closer. (Emily just called it being a lazy bitch. Which was also true, but rude as fuck and also why you didn’t talk to Emily much anymore.) The truth was, on those days, you didn’t want to remember or grieve or do anything close to thinking. You just wanted to not exist, and the next best thing was pretending that nothing else did.

So it was the first day of February and you were halfway through the Ghostbusters sequel, wrapped up in a blanket thicker than most of your sweaters, when you heard the knock on the door. It was light at first, then growing heavier, and your heart did a little leap in your chest at the sound.

It’s not him, you had to remind yourself. Because it never was. Plenty of people knocked on the door that way, when they were hesitant at first and then more decisive after the first few taps. It wasn’t exclusive to him. It wasn’t him.

You almost ignored it, and you’re willing to admit that. You almost ignored it and went back to your movie, because that also wouldn’t be the first time you’ve gotten up to answer the door and found that there was no one outside. Like his knock was a phantom to draw you out when your guard fell, only to swoop in with the kill when there was no one at your door. But... there was always that stupid, crazy, irrational hope that drew you out of your seat. You hitched up your blanket and went to the door.

His eyes were anxious. That was the first thing you noticed when you had the door open. Anxious, sunken, and tortured. His smile was just the same, and trembled on his mouth like holding it up was a terrible strain. He waved a little wave when you didn’t say anything for a while.

“Hi,” he said.

You continued to stare.

His confidence was clearly flagging. He shifted on his feet and shoved his hands in his pockets, dropping the smile like a dead weight, though it still clung to one corner, as though that stupid, crazy, irrational hope had been living in him, too. He blew out a breath.

“I, uh, I hadn’t really worked out to say beyond ‘hi,’ if I’m honest,” he says, blowing out a breath that might have been a laugh with a bit more effort.

Your mouth twitched a bit, and you finally couldn’t help yourself. You poked out a hand from under the blanket and reached out. For a moment it loked like he might flinch and you hesitated, but he didn’t back away. You laid your hand on his arm. It was solid under your fingers, warm and solid. You squeezed, and he was still there. You trailed your hand up his shoulder, feeling the fabric of his shirt under your fingers. You touched his face, cupping his cheek in your hand.

“Is this real?” you said softly, hopefully.

He smiled at you and reached up as though to cover your hand with his. Before he had the opportunity you reared your arm back and smacked him across the face as hard as you possibly could.

The crack of it was loud enough that one of your neighbors across the hall opened his door to peer out, but with Josh in a half crouch and cursing over the pain in his cheek, it appeared the situation was well in hand. You shook your head at the neighbor and wrapped an arm around Josh’s shoulders, ushering him inside.

“What the fuck,” he said as you shut the door behind him. You ran your fingers through his hair soothingly and led him into the kitchen.

“I think after you ate all my cereal and pretended to be dead for three years, a little smack across the face is fair,” you said. He might have scoffed at the word ‘little’ but offered no other protest as you flicked on the kitchen light. Looking at him closer, you could see that you’d left a bright red mark on his cheek and a tiny scratch from one of your nails sat under his eye. You sighed, more at yourself than at him, and unwrapped the blanket from around your shoulders so you could go looking for the first aid kit.

He watched you a little warily, perhaps expecting more violence. “I thought you would be happy to see me,” he said. Was it just your imagination or did he sound like he was sulking? He touched his burning cheek and winced. “Considering I’ve been dead for three years and all.”

“What makes you think I’m not happy to see you,” you said, voice deadpan. You set the first aid kit on the counter and looked up at him. The flat look he gave you was ready to rival Chris’s. You sighed and brought your hands up to your face, covering your mouth and nose as you tried to get your words together. “I’m...” You had to pull your hands away when they muffled your words. “I’m happy to see you, honestly. I’m just...”

“Just...?” he prompted. You tried to glare at him, but your eyes were starting to water and it lost the desired effect. Josh’s eyes widened and he moved almost immediately to try to comfort you. “Hey, no... Don’t cry...”

You flinched away from him. “Shut up, ohmygod, I’m allowed to cry,” you said, brushing away tears angrily. You couldn’t look at his face and turned away, looking instead at the fridge where you had posted up a note to remind yourself that you needed to call your therapist. “God, just... fuck you, Josh. As if I don’t have enough dreams about you coming back from the dead like nothing ever happened, like it’s fucking normal. Fuck you.”

He obviously didn’t know what to say. He seemed to be frozen where he was, arms still partially outstretched as though to bring you into a hug. He slowly lowered them again and took a minute step closer to you. You didn’t really notice as you ground the heels of your palms into your eyes.

“All the time, just all the time,” you said. You heard his footsteps shuffling across the tile, but attributed it to his possibly leaving the kitchen. “I dream that you just show up and you’re alive now. You were dead for however long but now you’re back and everything is going to be okay. But it’s not because I wake up and you’re not there.”

You jumped a bit when he wrapped his arms around you and for a moment you struggled to get free. He was warm and strong and solid and no matter how hard you pushed, he locked his arms around you tighter. You choked, suddenly, and realized how hard you were crying. The fight left you and you practically collapsed into him, relying on his arms to keep you on your feet.

“Please be real,” you begged into his chest. You hated yourself for it, but you couldn’t stand the idea that you might wake up. “Please, god, please be real. Don’t go.”

He kissed the top of your head, then your forehead, and then unwrapped one arm from around your waist to tilt your head up. He smiled at you, but you could see his ears were shining with tears too. “I’m real,” he said. He pinched your chin, as if to prove it, and you gave a wet laugh even as you flinched. He smiled again, this time a little wider. “I promise I’m real, and I’m not going away.”

You bit your lip as you nodded and lifted a hand to try to wipe your tears away. He caught it and instead leaned over you to kiss your wet cheeks, pulling you closer by the hand in his. You laughed at first, tiny chuckles that turned into hiccups, until his lips passed a little too close to your mouth. He stopped, almost literally a breath away from you. For a moment you weren’t sure what was going through his head, until he dipped down low and suddenly he was kissing you.

You gasped shakily into his mouth, puffy eyes going as wide as they could while his closed. He didn’t seem to mind as he threaded his hand into your hair, keeping you pressed close. As though you honestly could have pulled away. After a second, or maybe two, your brain finally kicked into gear and you responded, wrapping your arms around his neck to discourage him from stopping. His lips were salty and a little chapped from the cold, and you had to pull away far too soon because your nose was stuffed from crying.

“Did I ever do that in your dreams?” he asked, smirking a bit at you with his eyes still closed.

You scoffed and rolled your eyes. “Yes,” you said. His eyes popped open to look at you and you smiled. “But those were very different dreams.”

[untildawnwrites-blog]

Send me a character and a number for a headcanon.

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[untildawnwrites-blog]

(6) Headcanon: Request!

My first headcanon request, ahhhh, I’m excited!! All the “private” headcanons will go under a readmore! ;)

And hey, this isn’t the be-all/end-all of personality headcanons! Feel free to REQUEST some more!! We’re only scratching the surface.

Josh: Submissive. Ultimately, Josh is a people pleaser. He’s going to go out of his way to make his friends/family/partner happy, even if that means letting them pick their activities a majority of the time. Actually, he prefers it, because then he can be sure his friends/family/partner are happy and doing what they enjoy. He’s usually willing to stand back and let things happen in a group setting, and will go along with whatever makes everyone happiest. He does, however, love to make plans based around what he thinks his friends/family/partner will enjoy and will take charge in that situation to make sure things go right.

Chris: Honestly could go either way! It really depends on who he’s with, whether they’re a naturally dominating or submissive person. Around Ash and Josh, he can be comfortable taking charge. With Mike or Sam, though, he would be happy to sit back. He definitely likes to lead a conversation and doesn’t mind making decisions for the group if asked. He’s also a bit of a people pleaser in that he’s going to try his hardest to make sure everyone is included and feels valued.

Mike: Definitely a dominating personality if there ever was one! He takes charge and barrels through any situation presented to him, sometimes forgetting that his actions have consequences. He will make decisions for people sometimes without consulting them on what they want–but he’s usually right because he takes the time to understand his friends/family/partner on an intimate level. He’s often able to get his way with that persuasive personality of his, but he does listen and will change his plans if someone is really unhappy.

Matt: Submissive. This lil boy is so passive people walk by him and get contact credit for classes they’re not even taking. He just wants to make someone happy, and he’ll do anything to make that happen. He’s a sensible person and is able to keep his head in tough situations, but even when no one else is able to see the obvious solution to a problem, it might take a while for him to speak up in a group. And baby boy tries to be aggressive, but… oh darling. Just keep smiling pls.

Sam: Dominant. Look, as much as girl tries to play the neutral card, she is a take-charge sort of person. She has a very clear head about what she wants out of a situation or a relationship and just works to get it. It’s how she functions. Sometimes, though, she can be a little bit obsessive if something doesn’t go the way she planned it. Not that she goes crazy over it, but she’ll be moody for days because something didn’t turn out the way she’d hoped, even if it was something small like lunch plans with a friend.

Ashley: Submissive. A nervous little bunny rabbit. She’s very indecisive and is constantly afraid she’s bothering people, so she can be quick to bow out of a conversation if she’s shut down one too many times. She’s the sort of person who remembers the tiniest little things about you and presents you with presents relating to that thing. You like lemon-flavored things? She just happens to make lemon bars every couple weeks. Favorite color is purple? Prepare to get a thousand keychains, tiny plastic figurines, and dollar store bracelets in purple. She’s submissive, but she takes care of her people.

Jessica: Submissive. For all that she puts out that confidence, Jessica is astonishingly insecure and is definitely more of a follower than a leader. She can come up with plans and ideas on her own, for sure, but she’s constantly looking to the people around her for approval and reassurance. She’s happiest when she has someone who can guide her without seeming like they’re constantly all over every decision–because even if she’s a submissive personality, she doesn’t want to seem like it.

Emily: Are you really asking me this question.

Josh: Submissive. As a very emotionally vulnerable person, Josh would very easily and quickly get lost in the moment and probably depend on his partner to lead for that reason. He’d get very inside his own head, involved in the sensations, but he’d never totally lose sense of where he was and always be concentrated on responding and making his partner feel as good as they’re making him feel. And… probably at least a little into being tied up, but we already knew that.

Chris: Dominant. For all that he’s the sweetest, most amiable dork out there, he’s–well, he’s still that. But he’s also really focused and in control of himself like whoa. (Probably all that secret pining after Ashley did him some good at learning to restrain himself.) He could probably go on for just about forever making his partner go wild, and he certainly tries. He’s very intuitive, and can usually predict what his partner will want before they even know they want it. Chris likes to say he’s not good at many things, but the things he’s good at, he’s good at. Sex is definitely one of those things.

Mike: Dominant. As if you really could have expected anything less. Just like he’s able to manipulate and persuade someone in a conversation, he’s able to manipulate his partner’s body to get the exact response he wants from them. Now, don’t think he doesn’t care about what his partner wants–he does, and he’ll absolutely give them that. But sometimes he knows something that will be even better and he’ll go for it without even a warning.

Matt: Can go either way. It really depends on what his partner needs or wants from him–he’s willing to provide whatever is necessary to get them in a good mood. Do they want him to lay back and let them have control? He can do that. Do they want him to take charge and control the situation? He can do that, too. Do they want it to be a mutual thing of flailing limbs and frantic energy? Matt will provide. Just tell him what you want and he’s all over it.

Sam: Submissive, in an actual literal definition of the word. She wouldn’t necessarily say she’s into BDSM, but she enjoys facets of it, and one of those is that she loves to just relinquish total control to her partner. She loves the safety of sub space and can sometimes crave it, especially if she’s got a partner who actively takes part in that kind of bedroom play. She can get off without it, but she likes to be able to lose herself in the act. It’s one of the few times she feels the confidence and freedom to allow it to happen.

Ashley: Submissive, not in the literal definition. She’s such a hesitant person that initiating any kind of action is really out of her wheelhouse unless she’s had quite a bit of booze. (For such a small girl, her alcohol tolerance is through the roof.) She also gets very easily overwhelmed by emotions and sensations and is likely to be entirely lost and reactive–which isn’t a bad thing, necessarily, but sometimes can probably prove to be a little frustrating to a partner who needs verbal feedback. Words are not on Ashley’s mind in the bedroom.

Jessica: Submissive again, although it could be attributed more to her sense of romance. She wants her partner to sweep her off her feet and set a mood for her, and even then she can still be unsure. She’ll also spend ages waiting for the right partner to come along. And don’t think being submissive means she’ll be easy to please–far from it. She’s a demanding sub, but with a good partner they’ll both get somewhere good.

Emily: As in all things, a total dom. She has to be in control and usually has to be on top. Like Jessica, can be very demanding of her partner, but if they manage to live up to her standards she’ll give back just as good as she gets. She likes the feeling of being in control of the situation, the power helps her along and feeds into her ego just a bit. On the flip side, if she finds herself with a dominant partner, she’ll put out a good fight before she gives in. It’s one of the rare, rare times when she’s happy to let someone have power over her, and only happens if they play it right.

[untildawnwrites-blog]

Goodness gracious!

You guys I'm just really overwhelmed by all the love I've gotten from you! I wish I could respond immediately every time someone sends a request to thank them. I didn't ever imagine even this small amount of popularity when I started. Thank you all so much! I'm going to work here soon but I'll get off with plenty of time to work on requests tonight!!