#i have to stop writing shit late at night it’s almost 4am send help

[flowercrowngods]

in which eddie is semi-nonverbal and steve notices despite eddie’s best efforts. cuddles ensue | 1.8k

They’re hanging out at Eddie’s, just the two of them, when Steve notices it for the first time. He’s not known as the most perceptive guy ever, but he’s actually rather good at these things. And he’s starting to get good at getting a feel for Eddie, too, even though it’s made harder by his dramatics and his flourishes and all those exaggerated gestures, mimics and mood swings. Eddie is fluent in all things sarcasm and drama, both of which Steve had issues reading in the beginning but is now pretty good with.

After fighting an interdimensional monster wizard creep, nearly dying a few times and spending time together almost every day because we stick together now, Steve knows Eddie.

He’s not sure if they’re friends, exactly, but that doesn’t really stop him from knowing all of his tones, his moods, and even most of his music these days. Steve just watches. Listens. Remembers. He’s shit at talking about himself much around anyone but Robin, but he always makes a point of knowing as much as he can about his friends. And Eddie.

Which is why the sudden strain in Eddie’s voice catches him off guard. It’s not the I didn’t get any sleep last night because all I can think of is how I almost died kinda strain. Nor is it the It’s 5pm and I haven’t eaten yet and I don’t want you to find out kind. Steve still makes sure to make them sandwiches as he listens to Eddie rambling off about something or other.

And that’s the thing. Steve listens. He always does, but Eddie is rambling. And he sounds almost miserable about it. The words don’t make sense, they lack their usual enthusiasm when Eddie talks DnD or music — which, he’s doing both? There’s no connection. And when Steve turns around, sandwiches secondary to that fucking strain in Eddie’s voice, he sees that his eyes are dull. The smile forced. And he keeps talking even though his tone indicates that he’s done.

Steve frowns slightly and watches Eddie, who’s walking mindlessly, aimlessly, pacing and stopping every few seconds, looking a little lost every time he does.

The thing is, there is no reason for Eddie to talk. No point to his words. No calculation in his movement, no burning off of excess energy, no kick in his step, no stomp for emphasis.

Steve notices. He sees. He listens. And thinking back, Eddie’s reaction time to just about anything Steve said today was either close to nothing, or very delayed.

It dawns on him then, as he looks Eddie up and down, noticing the fidgeting hands, the tense shoulders, the stiff grimace of a smile. It dawns on him because he knows this look, this behaviour. Not exactly like this, but close.

He has a hunch and hopes that whatever they have built over the past weeks is strong enough for Eddie not to freak out on him over this.

“Eddie,” Steve interrupts him, and it shouldn’t be this easy. It wouldn’t be, normally, but today Eddie just shuts up immediately, mouth closed, eyes on Steve.

“Yeah?” Four seconds. That’s how long that word took.

Steve hopes the expression on his face is kind, not patronising. “You know you don’t have to do this, right?”

Eddie blinks. Swallows. Two, three, four. “Do what, Steve?” And immediately he is defensive, taking on an act because maybe that’s makes this easier for him, but even his performance is strained.

“You don’t have to talk all the time,” he says, and only realises once the words have left his mouth that they sound wrong, like he’s annoyed with Eddie’s constant babbling and needs some silence. Which he doesn’t.

Eddie scoffs before he can take it back. He scoffs, spins in a circle and sighs deeply, expertly bridging the four seconds it takes him once again to open his mouth and speak.

“Oh, that’s new! That’s new, Harrington, I’ve never heard that one before. What’s next, you gonna call me a Freak? Maybe tell me the bands I listen to aren’t music? Really sorry, man, and I hate to break it to you, but if you wanna hang out with someone who doesn’t ‘have to talk all the time’, I’m not your man!”

Even the anger seems dull, the little speech far from what it could have been, like Eddie’s brain isn’t quite there, like it doesn’t work today, like the words just won’t come and decide to leave him hanging with his failed dramatics.

Still, Steve approaches him slowly, his hands raised in a placating motion. “That’s not what I meant, and I’m sorry it came out wrong, Eds. I don’t mind your talking, you gotta believe me. But…”

How does he say this next part, this next assumption, without accidentally insulting Eddie again? Without sounding like a complete and total jackass?

“You know El, right? The one with the superpowers?”

Eddie nods.

“Well, when she came to us, she could, like, barely talk. Her vocabulary wasn’t there yet, sure, but that’s not the only reason. And now she’s made wonderful progress and her vocabulary is pretty decent, but still she gets those days where she just… She can’t talk. Or won’t. Maybe both. Sometimes both, yeah. And on some days she will, like, force herself. But I can tell when she does because she’s miserable about it and it sounds like hard labour and she’s always on the verge of tears about it. And… I don’t know, Eds, but you kinda look a lot like her now, and even if you don’t, which is fine, sorry for bringing that up, but even if you don’t have days like that, just know that you don’t always have to talk, yeah? One way or another, there’s not a price you have to pay in stories or running commentary just to be part of the group. You could never talk ever again and we’d still stick together, yeah? That’s what I meant. Sorry if that’s a jackass kinda thing to say.”

Steve hates how he’s always out there fumbling for words and can never get them to sound right. Especially now, when he needs Eddie to understand. He always needs Eddie to understand. It’s a bit of an urge lately. He just wants him to feel safe.

It’s more than four seconds now, and Steve stops counting at ten, acutely aware of the silence this time. He lets Eddie have his silence, though, leaves him room inside it.

“That’s not a jackass kinda thing to say, Steve Harrington,” Eddie says, and Steve swears he has never heard his voice in such a quiet, vulnerable tone. The quiet always helps El, too. Make all those words she can’t say a little less loud and imposing, make it all a little more okay. Not so scary.

“Good,” Steve whispers, and maybe that’s one step too far, but Eddie sags a little bit and for a moment Steve fears that he’s about to sway forward. Not that he wouldn’t catch Eddie.

“What do… How. Do you help El through it?” Small, vulnerable, confused, and Steve heart breaks a little for him.

“I do,” he says, equally quiet, smile on his face. “We always lie down somewhere because you only have to talk when you sit or stand, right? Lying down, no one can make you talk. So we lie down, she’s usually resting on top of me, and either I talk to her about, well… Anything, really. Or I shut up. Sometimes there’s music. Really, there’s many ways to get through it, but the main two things are lying down and not talking on her part, y’know?”

And the way Eddie looks at him makes Steve think that maybe they are friends, because you don’t let just anyone see you this vulnerable. You don’t look at just anyone with your big brown doe eyes like they’re opening a whole new world for you.

“Sounds great,” he croaks and that tension is back in his shoulders, so obvious that Steve wants to reach out and massage it away.

He smiles and searches Eddie’s eyes, absolutely sure of the situation now, and maybe having a cure for it. “Eddie Munson, would you like to go lie down and not talk for a while?”

Eddie stares at him as though he’s calculating the risk, as though he’s weighing his options. He could still tell Steve to go and he’d be out of here in a heartbeat if being alone is what Eddie really needs. But then he nods.

“I think maybe I do, yeah.”

“With El, I only ask her yes or no questions. You can just nod or shake your head. Okay? Don’t know if that works for you but, well, we can find out I guess. Yeah?”

Eddie nods, and Steve smiles. He goes to the kitchen area to grab the sandwiches he made earlier and then lands back right before Eddie, smile still in place.

“Not to be weird or anything, but I think this might work best on your bed. Is that okay for you? If that’s not okay, we can just lie down on the couch.”

Eddie looks back to his room, then back at Steve. He nods.

“Your bed?” Steve asks again just to make sure, and Eddie nods again.

And this is how they find themselves lying on Eddie’s bed, Eddie’s head resting on Steve’s chest. His fingers find their way into the metalhead’s locks at some point and Eddie purrs, which makes Steve laugh for a moment. He doesn’t take his hand away, though.

Steve doesn’t talk like he does with El sometimes. With Eddie, he just basks in the silence and lets the other boy soak up as much of it as he needs. There’s a smile on his lips the whole time, and he didn’t think he could smile so much around Eddie Munson, especially on one of his bad days.

But he does.

They even fall asleep like that, Eddie lying on top of Steve, cuddling into him. Steve lets him. Even the next morning when they’re both awake but not willing to break the silence yet even though Eddie looks much better already, he doesn’t make any moves to get away from Steve. He stays there, head on his chest as they both just bask in the moment.

Bask in the company.

Bask on the threshold of something just to the right of friendship. Something more.

#steddie #steddie fic #stranger things #steve x eddie #eddie x steve #i have to stop writing shit late at night it’s almost 4am send help #all those writers who write wonderfully short stories that give me all the emotions without useless words?? rip to you but i’m different 😔 #(that’s me saying i wish i could be brief but what was meant to be a drabble is now 1.8k words and ugh. why am i like this) #dio words #this fic contains a lot of words for a nonverbal fic I’m such a fake fan huh #is the entire beginning of this just me projecting and could i easily cut it and have the fic be better? yes. but i don’t write to be good #i write to be a little less insane. we’re not winning yet girlies #i should read this before posting but frankly it’s almost 4am i am barely awake

[curly-bangtan]

Heatwave Anniversary Drabble: i miss u like ... a lot (M)

[Heatwave // Godless // Heatwave Drabbles] <- read first! but this drabble can be read alone

Pairing: Taehyung x reader

Summary: One night until Taehyung is back from his boys’ trip but you miss him too much.

Genre: fluff, smut, kinda crack?, boyfriend/established relationship au

Warnings: unprotected sex (oc on contraception so don’t u do it), teasing over the phone, riding and grinding, just kinda vanilla i-missed-u-so-much sex, a particular selca

Word count: 5k

A/N: It was Heatwave’s one year anniversay on the 17th so I decided to write a quick(?) drabble for this. I fully intended on posting this on time, but wanted to change up some stuff so only managed to finish this now. Happy birthday to my first fic and forver my baby!

MOSTLY UNEDITED

.

The absolute one thing you hate most about your boyfriend being away from you is your boyfriend being away from you.

You have never been the clingy needy type, that is more his role in this relationship, nor are you really one to show affection. In fact, you would hate for that false image to be perceived of you because all that sappy shit makes you want to throw up your dinner. But one thing you’ve learnt since Taehyung had gone away on a week-long boys’ trip down by the coast is how cold the house feels in his absence, despite being in the middle of a sizzling summer.

Everything is so eerily quiet without his random outbursts into song and fits of laughter. Having spent 3 years living together, you have gotten so used to his constant presence that you had even caught yourself several times calling out for him only to remember that he isn’t here. Waking up without his arm draped around your waist, slided up your top at some point during the night, impacts you more than you’d like to admit.

Are you glad that he’s having a great time with his friends by the beach, relaxing all day and drinking all night? Of course. Are you having a great time all by yourself over here in the absence of your boyfriend? Certainly not.

Though, of course, this isn’t something you would confess to out loud, especially to him. He doesn’t need to know how often the thought: ugh fuck, I miss Tete is crossing your mind, lest you want him to rub his smugness in your face.

It isn’t just that. Your relationship hasn’t been without its tests in the course of its years and things have only finally stabilised. It’s not that you don’t trust Taehyung to be with his ladish friends for seven days, shirtless dusk till dawn, intoxicated to the point where he calls you thinking that you’re the pizza delivery guy but…

A hammered Taehyung at a beach full of girls who are no doubt thirsting over him leaves a bad taste in your mouth. You trust him to be loyal to his core, but you don’t trust anyone else to keep their hands from copping a feel. No matter how you look at it, you would just so much rather he be at home with you right now.

You have endured this for six days. Six full days without Taehyung. Six full days with no sex, no tummy kisses, no clammy hand holding even though you’re only to get groceries. Just one more night and this torture will fucking be over, praise the lord. But you also don’t know how much more you can hold back that I miss you text because you’re combusting from the need to see him again.

It’s almost 4am. Your sleep schedule is fucked and it’s really his fault.

The bright screen of your phone offers the only luminescence at this hour. Your messages from him in the past week have not been shy of your daily dose of Taehyung - clips of the beach (always mischievously caption with something along the lines of “thinking of Mykonos ;D” where you went on your first holiday together), selfies that you dwell way too long staring at because you miss that face buried in your neck, drunk videos of the antics him and the boys get up to that you’ll definitely chastise him for when he comes back yet can’t help but laugh at. You find yourself scrolling through them every single night.

Your personal favourite: a pouty selfie he sent you after he dropped his ice cream, the picture you always go back to and the one you’re staring at right now. His hair is frizzy from the sea, lips jutted out childishly and cheeks puffy. Your chest constricts, fuck...

Just one more night, you remind yourself. And then he’s back and all yours again.

Then suddenly, the phone in your hand vibrates, short and abrupt. The bar slides down from the top of your screen reading New Message from Tete. Surprised, you scramble to open it, maybe a bit too desperately for you to be proud of.

04:11

Tete: bby

You blink at those three letters, lips pressed together because your heart is cinching.

Tete: ur prob aslep rn but

Tete: i missu

Tete: <334

The typos indicate that he is wasted, and you take a guess that he has just returned from their last night out of the holiday. The corners of your lips turn up knowing that he is thinking of you right now.

You: no im awake

Your fingers are itching to reply with i miss u too, and it takes all your willpower and stubbornness to stay true to your steadfast self. There is just something so unpleasantly moist about these kinds of texts, something that makes you cringe and gag when you read them. You refuse to be one of those people. A heart is all that you allow yourself to reply.

You: <3

You: r u drunk?

Tete: drunk in love

Tete: yes

A giggle escapes you at his god awful cheesiness - drunk, sober alike. Insufferable. But probably Taehyung’s most endearing quality.

You: did u have fun!!

Tete: yeah

Tete: but i miss u

Tete: more than i had fun

God, you feel like a teenager again, suddenly overcome with this gushing urge to roll over and scream into your pillow. You’re glad he’s merely texting this to you right now because if he had said this to you face to face, your skin would most definitely stain scarlet from neck to hairline, scalding to the touch. Even months into officially being his girlfriend, these curveballs of overwhelming affection throw you off guard.

Again, the compulsion to tell him you miss him too yanks at your heartstrings. You truly don’t understand why it’s so hard for you to say how you feel, let yourself be soft and vulnerable. You know it’s one of your flaws so it’s something that you’re working on, but you can’t say you’ve made much progress.

But just as you decide that maybe you should take the plunge, suck it up and just text him those three words, he sends you a picture.

Tete:

No, not just a picture. A selfie, of him in bed, shirtless under the covers. “Oh, fuck…”

Hand clasped over your mouth to prevent any sound from involuntarily escaping, it takes a moment for your breath to return to you and for you to stop gawking. At this hour… Really? Is he seriously doing this to you right now?

His sleepy eyes. His messy curls. And his fucking nose mole.

The undoing of your existence.

Tete: this boy misses u :]

You: bruh

You: bruhhhhhhh

You: taehyung

Tete: oui my lady :))

You: 👁👄👁

You: can u not do this to my heart

You: y did u send me this </333

You: what was the reason

Tete: coz i miss u

Tete: do u like it

Tete: :D

‘Do u like it’... Actually, you have tears in your eyes, albeit mostly due to staring at a screen for too long so late at night, but it’s certainly contributed by this selfie. You tell yourself you’re acting out because it’s been six days since you last saw him. Perhaps Taehyung Withdrawal Symptoms is the explanation behind why you want to print and frame this picture because that is definitely not a normal reaction to a picture. But this is a masterpiece.

You: taehyung my soul left my body

You: like i could weep

You: u look so soft and fluffy

You: :’(

Tete: lollll

Tete: simp

This boy has some nerve?! Simp! He called you a simp?! Laughing like a maniac, you can’t even pretend to be mad at him, not after this picture he sent anyway. So you guess you are a simp. This selfie is your kryptonite.

Tete: jkjkkkkk

You: hahahaha

You: y r u doing this to me

You: its 4am

You: u can’t send me this rn

You: i won’t be able to sleep

Tete: o yeah how come ur still up?

Tete: go to sleepppp

You: can’t sleep

Tete: aw no whyyy

Because you miss him that’s why.

You miss Kim Taehyung. You miss Tete. You miss your boyfriend, your best friend, your other half. You miss his touch, his smile, his wide eyes when he’s confused. You miss his morning snuggles and late night kisses. You miss the way he hugs you from behind as you prepare your meals. You miss the wandering hands that he can’t help when you’re out in public. You miss playing PUBG together until the sun comes out then both sleeping past noon. You miss taking baths together where bubbles would get into your mouth as your kisses get heated.

You just miss him.

It’s only been six days and you’re in this state. What has he done to you?

Fingers hovering over the keyboard, you let out a great sigh and deflate. No other reason offers itself for you to be awake at this hour; he knows you cherish sleep above anything. Teeth digging into your lip, you inhale long and hard, then exhale the gust of your cowardice. It’s not that deep, stupid. Fuck it.

You: coz

You: i miss u

You: like … a lot

You: 🙄

It’s final - you guess you’ve become a mushy wet sap. Truly it is embarrassing how big of a step this is for you; but the sense of pride and accomplishment feels oddly validating. Baby steps. The eye-rolling emoji right after is subconscious because you could only betray the core of your character that much. Forgo it and taehyung might not believe that it’s you.

Tete: omg

Tete: :D

Tete: rrly?

You: *blank kissy emoji*

Tete: wow

Tete: u actually don’t know how hard i’m smiling rn

You: simp

Tete: ofc that’s my middle name

Tete: i miss u a lot too

Tete: like a lotttttt

Tete: i’ll show u how much when i’m back

Ah… Of course, the Taehyung specialty - smothering you with his affection. You freeze at the thought of his wildfire kisses and head between your thighs. Nothing screams of how much you’ve missed each other more than a good dicking down, climax after climax until you’re both panting messes of sweat and entangled limbs. The anticipation makes you squirm under the sheets, legs pressing together.

You: pls do

You: i need u

It’s uncertain what spirit has possessed you at this ungodly hour for these words to come out of you. There’s an instant flash of ickiness, but you let the self-cringing simmer and dissipate into the realisation that this is okay, this is normal. Taehyung’s your boyfriend, couples text like this. You need to grow some.

Tete: fuck baby

Tete: i’m so not used to u texting like this, it's driving me crazy

You: crazy how *cat smirk*

If you weren’t smiling before, you’re definitely grinning like an idiot now. His reaction is predictable, yet oddly still, an incredible wave of satisfaction hits you. And because you want to savour this moment, maybe give him a taste of his own medicine, you send him a picture of yourself.

Camisole strap slid off your shoulder, hair splayed out, bottom lip deep red from biting down on it too much. Just to return the favour.

Tete: y/n

Tete: call me now

-Incoming call from Tete-

Laughing to yourself, you wait a good few seconds before picking up to prolong his torture. “Yes, Taehyung?” You put your thumb between your teeth to suppress the laughter.

“Fuck.” Against the silence of the night, the low rasp of his voice permeating into you from the speaker of your phone sends tingles up your toes. You’ve fucking missed his voice more than you thought. “Y/N… You can’t do this to me.”

“I told you, I miss you. Like… a lot.” The saccharine tone in your reply is foreign to your own ears, but you like the sound of it and the deep rumble it elicits from your boyfriend.

“How much?” Taehyung eggs you on. His words are barely slurred, so you gather that he has sobered up at least for the most part by now. Yet there is still a slowness to it that suggests

“Hmm, like… I touched myself every night at the thought of you a lot.”

A sharp inhale. Then silence. But you know better so you give him a moment to gather himself.

“You shouldn’t be putting that image in my head.” Exasperation is evident in his voice, desperate and yearning. You can imagine him now, one hand on his phone, the other sliding over his pants that are getting a bit too tight for comfort. Your breath hitches.

“Then you shouldn’t have sent me that picture, Taehyung…”

“You said it was soft and fluffy. What you sent me back was not soft and fluffy.”

“Just because it’s soft doesn’t mean it doesn’t turn me on. You do things to me… okay?” Heat trapped beneath the skin of your cheeks, your grip on the phone against your ear slackening as your thighs rub together.

“Fuck, I’m getting hard, baby…” Nothing gets him going more than the knowledge that he turns you on, it’s his weakness but somewhat his strength.

“That’s… unfortunate. Are you going to do something about it?”

His gulp is audible even over the phone. “Uh…” A sigh. “Um. Maybe. Thoughts are being thought.”

“What kind of thoughts? Thoughts about me touching myself and moaning your name? Thoughts about how much I wish my fingers were your cock thrusting so deep into me that I feel it in my guts? Or are you thinking about what you’ll do to me when you’re back tomorrow? Fucking my mouth until I’m crying or filling me up with your cum first?” Your hips buckle at the filth leaving your mouth. This is more like you; you haven’t abandoned your nature after all.

“Oh, fuckkkk.” His moan resonates into your skull, not quite as if he’s here with you but good enough to fill your desire. “Y/N… I need you so badly.” Breath ragged, you hear movement of his sheets in the background as he adjusts into a more comfortable position.

“Are you stroking your cock right now?” A warm slick oozes out of your own entrance. There’s something about Taehyung masturbating to you that elevates you to a different kind of high.

“What do you think, baby?” As you listen closely, you hear the slow rhythm of his pumping, and your fingers ache to pleasure yourself. ‘The things I’ll fucking do to you when I’m back.”

“Mmm, but it’s late, Taehyung, why don’t we go to sleep.”

“Wait, what?” The stroking stops instantly and surprise in his voice releases a smug satisfaction into your veins. The equivalent of pouring a bucket of ice water over his head right now. Teasing is an old undying habit, what can you say? “You wanna end the call now?”

“Yeah, we should sleep, babe.” Grin unsuppressed, you turn over onto your side, probably a bit too pleased with yourself at your success. Taehyung is an easy victim always.

“What the fuckkk?” Your boyfriend groans. “You’re seriously going to tease me this hard then leave me high and dry?” When you offer no more response than a sly chuckle, he add, “You’re so evil.”

“Save it for tomorrow, Taehyung. Think about it, we’re one sleep away from seeing each other again.”

“Fuck, I know. But you just got me so fucking horny, bruhhh. I thought we were gonna have phone sex.” You are still laughing at his whining, basking in the victory you’re holding over him.

“Taehyung, save it for the real sex.” The idea of phone sex crossed your mind several times to be honest, but you really want to collect every single drop of desire and longing and unleash it tomorrow. Raw and pent up. Nothing to dampen the fire.

A sigh of defeat down the line. “You’re going to be the death of me, you know?” You know. “How am I supposed to sleep now though? I’m so rock hard that it hurts.”

“You can figure that out yourself, big guy.” Your cheeks ache from smiling for too long; they often do during calls with him. “One sleep away, okay?”

“Ugh, fine, you demon. I can’t believe you sometimes.” He lets out another sigh. Your heart skips at the anticipation of how he will punish you for this. “Good night, I miss you.”

“Good night, I miss you more.” There’s a sudden change of tone with these words. Because you truly mean it. Sex and physical intimacy aside, you really just missed his voice, his banter.

You fall asleep almost immediately.

.

You don’t think you’ve heard a sweeter sound than the keys rattling at the door the next day. Practically leaping off the couch where you had been awaiting him in your Taeyhyung-less boredom, you run to the door.

As it swings open, heat courses to your chest when your eyes land on his, so full of comfort. Your boyfriend is home. Handsome as ever, much more tanned than your memory of him and much more attractive. White t-shirt and loose black shorts, a mundane outfit that only he could make look exceptional.

And as much as you want to sprint up and throw yourself onto him, your feet stay planted on the floor.

“Hey.” You barely breathe out.

Stay calm and composed, you tell yourself. It was only one week without him, it’s not like he’s returning from war.

But Taehyung doesn’t even reply, because in two long strides he is standing before you, bags tossed to the side, a sign of their insignificance in the presence of you. His arms find their home circled around you, face buried in your hair before you can utter another word. You don’t hesitate to return his embrace, holding his waist as you let yourself fall into his chest. He smells like what summer should, the ocean, sweat and young love; his familiar musk greeting you as if he never left.

Your lips meet his, strong and full of intent. He’s so unexpectedly soft when he kisses back, a timeless romantic dance like he is saviour your taste on his tongue.

With your weight leaning on him, he slowly topples back, stepping hastily until your bodies land on the couch. You fit your legs on either side of him as you burrow your nose in his neck and breathe him in, memorise him. In nothing but a large shirt, your bare thighs are exposed for his roaming.

When you pull away and face each other, you are struck by his beauty. His skin is sun-kissed and glowing, hair an effortlessly beautiful mess, the slightest hint of a stubble peeking through below his nose. Your heart belongs to him forever, you know it without a doubt.

“You smell so good. I missed you so much, baby.” And his voice… That deep baritone honey that you have taken for granted all this time - music to your ears.

“Imissedyoutoo…” You mumble, shy under his undivided attention and mercilessly unbroken eye contact.

With your chests pressed together, his chuckle rumbles into you. “What was that?”

“I missed you too… I guess.” Face flaming, you can’t bring yourself to meet his eye at your admittance, fingers twirling around his curls to preoccupy yourself.

But he cups your chin and turns your face to him, forehead pressing up to yours until your noses are touching, breaths mixing. “That’s not what you said last night.” Taehyung smirks, hands sliding down to your waist, the material of your shirt bunching up in his hands. “Do I need to remind you?”

“No…” You find yourself unable to keep your eyes open, your core pulsing mercilessly as you grind onto him. “How are you already hard, Taehyung…” And though you mean to scold him, it comes out breathless.

Lips hovering, he traces the edge of your jaw, tingling the sensitive little hairs on its way to your ear. When he reaches the shell of your ear, warm breath infiltrating so relentlessly into you, you almost lose yourself right there on his lap. “Don’t you know how much I love you?” He whispers.

“Show me.” Is all you make out.

His hands are already beneath your shirt before you even notice, palms kneading into your breasts as he takes your nipples between his two fingers and rolls. As he kisses you again, the same tenderness exchanges between your lips. It’s a different kind of desperation to be so slow and gentle, one that means so much more than sex, one that’s telling of how much you truly missed each other. Your hips roll with a mind of their own over him. One hand of his comes down to your ass, guiding the waves of your rocking. And each time his stiff clothed member digs into your clit, you whimper into his mouth.

Carefully, Taehyung rolls you over onto your back, sucking your bottom lip to keep the seal from breaking. He pulls away when he’s on top of you, and a string of glistening saliva bridges between your mouths. “Foreplay or no? Tell me what you want?” Compliant as ever.

“I need you to fill me up right now. Anything else can wait.” You watch the devotion ignite in his eyes. His fingers are in a hurry as they pull your panties off, knees spreading your legs open as he kneels between your gaping entrance. He tugs his shirt off from the collar, such smoothness in his action that your insides coil up. His newly-bronzed rich skin revealed, you can’t help but reach up and run your hands down from chest to navel, revelling in his blemishless ridges.

A low sound reverberates from the back of Taehyung’s throat as your touch travels down to unbutton his shorts. They fall loose. His hard throbbing members springs free, a glistening bead oozing from his slit. “You didn’t wear boxers?”

When you glance up, you notice his sheepish grin. He presses his mouth onto yours, still smiling, guiding you back onto your back. “I just couldn’t wait.” Taehyung whispers. “I haven’t been able to stop thinking about you, especially since last night… Ah, fuck.” Another deep groan erupts from him as you reach down and slather that bead of precum all over his tip. His head falls onto your neck, writhing under your merciless stroking.

His tip brushing against your clit, your toes curls at the teasing of your weakness, hips jolting up involuntarily and perhaps a bit too violently. You’re so embarrassingly sensitive after this many days without Taehyung, and he notices from your breathless reaction. Smirking, he takes his shaft in his hand and runs his stiff head over your clit mercilessly. And as you roll your head back helplessly, he nibbles onto your exposed neck, faint stubble grazing your skin.

“Quit the teasing…” You whine, unable to withstand the build up of twisting pressure begging to be fulfilled between your legs. “Just put-”

Taehyung pushes himself into you so abruptly that you yelp. And there it is, that mind-melting stretch of your walls that you’ve so much missed. “Fuck, Taehyung…” Your entire core feels ablaze, so numbing that your nails dig into the leather of the couch before they find grip on his arms.

“Like that, baby?” His voice his strained, as if he’s struggling not to lose his mind as well.

Nodding because you can’t make out a word as he slowly pulls out, you grab his face and pull him up to meet your lips. You whimper into him mouth when he rams into you again, hitting your walls in full force, no mercy. His kiss doesn’t lose its sincerity despite the juxtaposition of his vigorous thrusts, though you can’t say that he is quite as gentle with as before. You pinch his bottom lip between your teeth, sucking on it as your fingers get lost in his hair.

After seven days of deprevation of his cock, your cunt is leaking with the fluid of your arousal, aiding in the ease of each plunge. You feel the stiffness of his ridges pulling you open as he slides in and out of you. “Fuck…” He pants, mouth hovering over yours.

“Let me get on top.” Taehyung’s eyes flash at your suggestion, instantly rolling onto his back. He slips out during the switch of position and the wetness of your cunt is assailed by a sudden rush of cool air.

You swing your leg over and mount him, watching him watch you pump his dick, your own liquid slathered over him sticky in your hand. Letting his member fall against his abdomen, you grind over him between your folds, hands splayed out over his chest. The friction created each time your clit would slide over the thin pinch of skin where his tip unfolded into his shaft has Taehyung a groaning mess.

He looks remarkable under you.

You push his sweat-dampened curls out of his forehead, eyes half closed in euphoria, half watching you roll your cunt so lewdly over his length. You know you could make him cum like this if you continue. But you want him to cum inside you first, you want to feel that thick hot spurt of his desire shoot again and again into you until his cock is twitching.

So slowly, lubricated by your wetness, you sink inch by inch down until the skin of your ass meets his thighs. This angle fuck with your mind; you think you feel him at your cervix. Then your hips start to do what they know best, pounding over him with a rhythm that you’re proud of.

Taehyung grabs hold of your waist, your breasts, fury in his eyes as he watches you ride him with such determination. “I love you so much.” He heaves between heavy breaths.

“I love you, I missed you more than you could imagine.” You huff, thumb running over his red swollen lips.

“I love when you admit it.” He sits up and takes the swell of your breast in his mouth, making his way to your nipples where his tongue relentlessly flickers over.

Your thighs are starting to burn, core aching because his cock is thrusting up into you so deep that you feel it in your guts. The signs are appearing - your vision is going hazy, walls squeezing tightly around him, tangle upon tangles knoting in your stomach. His are too - his head is slumped against your chest, arms crossed behind your back as he holds you close to him, whole body starting to tense as he begins to curse.

Pace quickening, you don’t let the tire of your muscles stop you from your chase. The slap of your skins ringing in your ears, you keep riding, cunt swallowing his cock whole each bounce. Taehyung breaks first. “Fuck!” He calls out into your neck. His cum squirts into you, pulse after pulse, your boyfriend’s hips jolting each thrust.

“I’m so close, babe, keep going for me.” You plead, knowing how sensitive he is right after his climax. He nods wordlessly, face still buried in you hair. The lubrication of his cum abolishes any resistance, letting you slide over him easier than sitting down. And not five thrusts later, your own coil snaps. You through your head back at the wave of pleasure that drowns you, your entire core on fire as your moans echo through the room. It takes maybe twenty seconds for your walls to stop throbbing and for the orgasm to slowly die down.

Taehyung is already growing limp inside you after his orgasm. “Thank you.” You whisper against his forehead while you dismount. His cum flows out of your slit and down the insides of your thighs, but he refuses to let go of you.

When he looks up, you are struck by an overwhelming sensationf of adoration. His long dark curls fall slightly over his eyes, in disarray but just the way you like it. His eyes are so full of genuine love and gratitude of having you that you can’t help but capture him with your lips. “No, thank you.” He mumbles against you, falling back onto the couch with you in his embrace.

After a long kiss of after-sex affection, you pull away before it leads to a second round. “I want you to know that I really missed you a lot. I can’t even call you a big baby anymore because I stared at all the pictures you sent me every night till the sun came out.”

Taehyung’s boyish smile melts your heart. You’ve missed him way too much. His smile, his goofy comments, his tender kisses. “My heart… is squeezing…” If his smile doesn’t tell how smitten he is, his eyes definitely do. “I missed you so much too. All the boys made fun of me for being such a wettie ‘coz I couldn’t shut up about you.” The thought is so endearing that you can’t help but hide your face.

“So how was your trip? Plenty of hot girls drooling after you?” Trick question of course, you know that for a fact already.

“Haha, it was good, fun. Bet you couldn’t sleep ‘coz you were trembling from jealousy.” Scoffing you land a smack on his chest. “But nah, no hot girls. Nowadays there’s only one hot girl in my eyes.”

Your own lips spread like a cheshire cat. “Shut up, cutie.”

“Rachel McAdams.”

“Let go of me. Don’t even touch me.”

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A/N: Moral of the story, never sit on their couch if you’re a guest at the Heatwave house.

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24/08/20

© Copyright 2020

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#heatwave #heatwave drabble #bts #bts smut #bts taehyung #bts v #bts fic #bts fanfic #bts oneshot #bts scenarios #bts reactions #bts drabble #bts fluff #bts v fanfic #bts v smut #taehyung smut #taehyung fluff #taehyung boyfriend au #taehyung fanfic #taehyung fic #taehyung drabble #taehyung oneshot #kim taehyung #taehyung scenarios #jungkook smut #jimin smut

[waywardmoeyy]

4am Food Coma

Dean Winchester x Sister!Reader

Word Count: 1,784

Warnings: insomnia, just some familial fluff. 

A/N: This is as much of a feel-good story as I can write late at night. Haha. I hope you all like it! 

My Master List

You sighed as you stared at the drab bunker ceiling. Your body was practically aching from exhaustion, but you mind was racing. Random, deep-rooted memories flashed through you, some causing your heart to pound with regret. This lifestyle had really been taking a toll on you lately, and you knew it was only going to get worse.

You pulled the scratchy, plaid blanket up to your chin and sighed. You could go back to your room, but Dean was snoring to heavily on the other side of the wall. You typically fell asleep before him, but tonight, you just couldn’t get your mind to shut off.

Grabbing your phone beside you, you unlocked the screen and checked the time. 3:34am.

“Well, shit,” you muttered to yourself with another sigh. There was no way you were going to get any sleep at this point. You had promised Sam that, in the morning, you would go with him to some outdoor clothing store a few towns over, and he was always up at the ass crack of dawn. So, that meant you probably only had an hour or so of time to get any sort of shut eye.

The tip-tap of heavy feet approached you from behind the couch. You turned toward the noise, sitting up a little to peer over the back of the couch. In the scarce light, you found your oldest brother approaching you.

“Hey, what the hell are you doing up, sweetheart?” Dean asked, shooting you a concerned look. You sighed and leaned back onto your makeshift pillow.  

“My mind has decided that now is a great time to replay every horrible thing that’s happened in every hunt I can remember. It’s making me nuts. You know me, I’m the one who is always saying that what’s in the past can’t be changed, just let it go. I’m not usually one to dwell, but here I am.” You watched Dean as he plopped down on the edge of the couch, lightly leaning against your feet.

“Sounds like a helluva nightmare, Y/N. Anything I can do to help?” That was a great question, and usually the one you were asking your brothers. You pursed your lips, then gently shook your head.

“I dunno. I think I just need some sort of distraction. I’ve tried watching TV, but my mind just drifts off into another world.” You rolled your eyes. “And I promised Sam I’d go to that store he loves. He wants to leave early. I’m going to be a zombie.”

Dean chuckled as he watched you, probably laughing at the dark rings that were undoubtedly plaguing your eyes. He patted your ankles and smiled.

“I have an idea. Grab a sweatshirt and meet me at the car.” You furrowed your brow as you watched him launch to his feet.

“Wha-wait. What? No. I’m not going out like this. Dean, it’s almost four in the morning! Where are we going?” You slid out from under your blanket. You were clad in baggy pajama pants covered in cat silhouettes, and a tank top that absolutely did not match. Not to mention the quarter sized hole under your right armpit.

“Relax, Bitz, no one’s going to care where were going. Just grab a sweatshirt and some shoes. You have five minutes.” You rolled your eyes at your big brother. He was always up to some sort of shenanigans. But, the two of you were a lot alike, so you usually trusted his crazy schemes.

“Fine, but I’m not going to say I’m excited until I know where we’re going.”

“Calm down, Bitz. You’ll like it.” Bitz, short for Itsy Bitsy, was the nickname Dean gave you when you were too young to talk. Since you were the youngest, and quite obviously the smallest, he thought it was funny. But over three decades later, he still called you by that nickname more than he ever used your real one.

One more unsure sigh left your lungs before you turned towards your room, in search of a jacket.

“I remember there was a place just like this in Omaha. We always stopped when we drove through. I totally forgot this place was here.” You peered down at the menu of the dodgy diner. Dean sat across from you, studying the same menu.

The two of you sat in the corner of the small eatery, only joined by an older man at the bar, obviously a trucker, and a homeless man drifting off on the other side of the building, still half-clutching a cup of coffee.

Dean smiled and nodded, peering up from his menu. “Yeah, it hasn’t changed a bit. It’s like they are all exactly the same. Still better than Biggerson’s, though.” You laughed.

“Yeah, definitely. Their milkshakes are the best! I’m hoping they still are.”

Dean grinned. “Well, let’s find out. I’m not going to eat a big meal then go back to sleep. But, I’ll never deny an Oreo milkshake.” Dean slammed his menu shut and nodded. “What’s your poison? No, wait, lemme guess. Mint chocolate chip?”

Your eyes lit up. You hadn’t had a mint chocolate chip milkshake in years. Most places in the middle of nowhere didn’t have that flavor. Vanilla, chocolate, or strawberry, you cold almost hear a waiter say in their ‘I don’t want to freaking be here’ tone. But this small chain in the center of the country had them, and they were heavenly.

“It’s like you know me or something!” you teased him, before closing your own menu.

Dean chuckled as he eyed the server as they approached your table. “It’s like we’re related.” He winked, before turning to the exhausted young man. He couldn’t have been older that twenty.

“What can I get you?” he droned, his eyes half open. You glanced over at your brother, then back to the young man.

“A mint chocolate chip milkshake please,” you beamed. You smiled, realizing that you were already starting to feel better. You watched as Dean ordered, feeling like you didn’t have a care in the world for the first time in a while.

You all had been hunting for months without any sort of real break. No wonder your mind was on the verge of exploding. You definitely needed to have more breaks and distractions to counterbalance the violent, crazy crap you dealt with day in and day out. But, your brothers were work horses, so that always proved a little difficult.

“Hey, do you think drinking a giant, sugary milkshake is going to be the solution to get me to sleep?” you realized, leaning back in your heavily cracked booth.

Dean shrugged. “Sugar actually helps in a weird way. You eat or drink a bunch of it, fill yourself with sugar, then crash and sleep. Or, the shear amount of food will put you in some type of food-induced coma.” You nodded slowly. It did make sense, weirdly enough.

“Do you think that’s the healthiest thing to do?”

“No, Bitz. But it doesn’t hurt every once in a while. It’s healthier than pulling an all-nighter, then running all around town the next day.” That was true. Plus, there was no way you were going to say no to sugar, whether it was just before sunrise, or sunset. You hadn’t hopped onto Sam’s kale salad bandwagon quite yet.

Within minutes, the server returned with your glorious milkshakes, and a full refill container. The moment your treat was placed down in front of you, you smiled up at your brother in thanks.

The next twenty minutes were quiet, other than the ravenous slurps that came from your straws. Dean finished a few minutes before you, instantly leaning back in his seat.

“Holy shit, that hit the spot.” He smiled as he closed his eyes, instantly in a food coma. You giggled.

“How you didn’t get a single brain freeze baffles me,” you teased, scooting your cup a little closer. A thin line of red light beamed along the horizon, reminding you that you had basically pulled an all-nighter. But, you didn’t care nearly as much as you did before. A sense of peace had enveloped you, or maybe it was the beginning of your own food coma. Either way, you felt a heck of a lot better.

“Thanks, Dean,” you whispered, offering a frozen smile. Dean returned the gesture and nodded.

“Hey, it worked when we were kids. I was sure it was going to work now.” You furrowed your brow.

“What?”

“Yeah, when we came to one of these as kids, Dad would let us order milkshakes. I know you remember. But, what you probably don’t remember is that once you got back in the car, you were out like a light. I don’t even know if the sugar ever got a chance to get to you. I think it was just the comfort food or somethin’.” Dean laughed.

Now that you thought of it, you didn’t really remember the ride afterwards. You just remember waking up just after sunrise, either in the car or arriving home. And, well, that would explain why.

You closed your eyes for a minute, feeling the intense fullness in your stomach. Maybe you were skipping the sugar high yet again, and satiety was leading you straight to real exhaustion.

“Wow, you’re a lightweight,” Dean poked as he lifted from his seat, tossing some money onto the table. You huffed out a chuckle, a little too tired to come up with a witty comeback. “C’mon kid, let’s get you home. You’re going to need some sleep if Sam is going to drag you all over hell tomorrow—uh, today.”

You nodded as you slowly slid out from behind the table. Your brother was already five steps ahead of you, stomping his way towards the door. You slowly followed behind, smiling as you watched him toss a five-dollar bill onto the sleeping homeless man’s table. Then, he opened the door, and waited for you to exit with him.

The moment you settled into your seat, you leaned your head back, resting your head on the top of the back rest. Your eyes were heavy, and your body was practically deadweight. Dean peered over at you as the engine roared to life. He patted your shoulder before putting the car in gear and heading for home.

A long, shuddered sigh left you as you settled into your seat. It was going to be a good twenty minutes or so before you were home. But, your eyes weren’t going to stay open for that long. So, you closed them as you yawned. Within moments, sleep slowly enveloped you, and you weren’t going to fight.

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[butterflyinthewell]

Dad took some steps today. He needed the therapist right there because he was so off balance that he would’ve fallen without support along with his walker. One of his feet is curling sideways and inward because he hasn’t been putting weight on his feet. That will be a problem and he may need a brace to straighten that out. It’s related to the whole “don’t use it and you lose it” aspect of Parkinson’s disease, and I was afraid of this.

I hope he gets to walk again as much as he could before because he will be stuck in one room for the rest of his life if he doesn’t. I think that’s the one incentive that makes him want to get back on his feet. My fear is he will then proceed to get up at night like he was doing when he got hurt in the first place. He still keeps mom awake till 3 and 4am because she’s a people pleaser who will give until she’s dead. Black hole people like my dad love finding bleeding hearts like my mom.

I’ve told mom to just put her foot down and go to bed, but I stayed up once to see what really happens. Dad whines and complains if mom says she’s going to bed. Suddenly he will want to be put on his bedside commode (which takes forever and then you wait for him to go and heave him back into bed), or he will want a sandwich or just anything that makes mom have to be busy on his behalf until she’s wide awake again when she was sleepy enough for bed before.

Just...AUGH...every good thing always comes with shit right behind it.

I think I’m going to ask my counselor or psychiatrist if there’s a way to screen for ptsd. My mental health is in the toilet and I’m having bizarre dreams and nightmares several times a week. My sleep is disrupted now, and that’s never been a thing for me. I’m constantly hyper vigilant. I’m having anger outbursts and the kinds of thoughts that intrude upon my mind are horrible.

If something happens to mom, I am helpless in all the issues that matter. Food, I can figure out, but I’m worse than useless for everything else. I cannot move dad to his commode or wheelchair, and he needs some support to move onto them. I’m too small, he outweighs me by over 100 pounds.

Most of my bad dreams are things happening to my mom, or there’s word that something happened and I can’t get any info on if she’s okay or not. Another kind I have is I’ve contracted COVID, or someone who comes in to see us has it and spreads it, and I’m the only survivor. Other dreams are the body horror type where I amputate my own body parts with a saw and hand them to people because I feel useless. I had one recently where I literally ran up to Hannibal Lecter with a knife and fork and told him to eat me, but he took the silverware away and wouldn’t do it because “no, you’re not rude.” I said I was, but he wouldn’t do it. I was so angry! I was angry about that dream all day!

I don’t believe I deserve anything good and I don’t see myself as a good person. I don’t deserve help.

I’m scared a lot. Just...I can be sitting here watching a cute kitten video on YouTube or eating dinner and get hit with a wave of fear.

None of this is how my mind usually works. I’ve never been in mortal danger(recently), but I’ve had my routines and life disrupted to such severe degrees that I feel like I’ve lost control of my life, and to me that’s almost the same thing as dying. I’m autistic, and autistic people are more prone to trauma from ‘mundane’ things that a neurotypical person wouldn’t flinch at.

I’m just worried the “not life-threatening” aspect will immediately disqualify a diagnosis.

In June 2019, I went into burnout after home health visits for dad threw all my routines away and they’re still getting destroyed by it because they can’t keep a consistent fucking routine.

July that year was my dad getting his DBS batteries replaced. It was sensory hell because I got my period the day of the surgery and spent the whole time nauseated and cramping, but being silent about it...only to get called selfish and horrible for mentioning how bad I felt after we were all home again. (Outpatient surgery)

September 2019, mom’s gallbladder almost blew up and she was rushed to the hospital. I was alone with dad, without warning, and had to function using emergency reserves that I didn’t have because I was in burnout. I ran around terrified that any mistake I made would get me screamed at by both my dad and sister. Mom was out of the house from Friday to Tuesday. Dad did nothing but demand and demand from me and yelled at me for melting down. I was almost out of meds and for awhile didn’t know if or when I would get them. I had to grocery shop with sister’s help and she kept getting upset at me for arranging the cart like mom did, and I ended up forgetting things I needed even though I had a list right in front of my face the whole time. I was that out of it.

An aid had to come bathe dad because mom couldn’t do it for at least six weeks. That happened whenever someone could come, so dinner, my showers and mom’s ability to do things were disrupted by waiting for the call that the aid was coming. Coverage only lasted six weeks and then the help was yanked the second mom was declared fit to lift more than 5 pounds again.

October 2019, our car died and so routines got thrown further out of whack because mom and I had to depend on friends and family for rides to grocery shop or go to church. Trips stopped being at a set time and turned into “whenever someone can drive you” so I was uprooted from my day with little warning, and we didn’t get a new car until early December.

December 2019: We Christmas shopped late because of the car bullshit, mom barely got the cookies baked in time, and it was just a super stressful Christmas season.

I struggled through the death anniversary of my dog because that year he was gone as many years as he had lived and I spent most of it in a disassociated state.

Then mom had her bowel obstruction the day after Christmas and was in the hospital from Friday to Sunday. Yet again she was gone and the routine was blown apart without warning. My sister gave me shit the first time I wore my new ear defenders to the grocery store. Dad did nothing but demand and demand from me when I had nothing. I ruined a dinner that I didn’t know how to cook and went hungry but made him eat leftover ham from Christmas.

January 2020, the COVID shit started on the news.

March 2020, I went to the grocery store with mom and shelves were empty like a nuclear war was coming. I was terrified that I would catch COVID and kill my parents by passing it to them. Church closed. Stores opened for senior hours at butthole o’clock in the morning. Weekend routines were destroyed. Choir practices stopped. More routine disruptions.

August 2020, I started having anniversary distress related to what happened to mom the year before.

Then dad fell and broke his hip. I still clear as day see him in his blue shirt, sitting on the stair chair, being pulled backwards out the front door by paramedics with the ambulance lights flashing red and blue under the midnight sky and white street light.

Late September, as I’m struggling a bit with the anniversary of what happened to mom, worrying about dad getting COVID and beginning to relax because “dad is going to be away till he can walk again...” there comes that phone call from shithole New Orange Hills saying they’re sending him home and we find out they lied to us about every promise they made.

October 2020, dad was brought home and now he’s laying in an electric bed in the family room where mom can hear him if he needs her.

Writing that down has me realizing I’ve been experiencing almost continuous upheavals to my routines. Routines give me a sense of safety, and every time things settle something else throws it all to shit again.

So either I have ptsd or I’m possibly developing it, and I’m scared because this seems so ridiculous compared to the reasons other people get it.

#swearing #dad fall drama #disabled abusers #emotional abuse #food mention #tw menstruation #tw pet death

[maxgrayarchived]

WIP First Lines Tag Game

Tagged by @shaelinwrites​!! And hers is right here, which you should read, because her writing is amazing and I can’t wait for this book. 

Rules: Share the first line (or first few lines) of each chapter of your current manuscript! Feel free to skip chapters to avoid spoilers, and you can do as many chapters as you want!

It makes the most sense for me to do this for Superkids! So let’s go

CHAPTER ONE: HE FELT POWERFUL 

Virgil couldn’t breathe.

CHAPTER TWO: BIGGER, AND BIGGER, AND BIGGER 

Patton yawned as he shuffled down the school’s hallway. His tummy rumbled. He usually ate breakfast with his dad, but woke up late and didn’t have time.

CHAPTER THREE: NIGHTMARE 

Virgil stood stiff as Derek and Remus got him ready. 

Remus fixed an earpiece on him, bringing his long hair down to hide it. Derek grabbed his shoulders and shook him hard, mumbling for him to loosen up. 

“Okay,” Remus took a step back to look him over, “your dad and I will be there the whole time. I hacked into their security cameras, so I’ll be able to let you know if anything goes wrong.”

CHAPTER FOUR: MALUS 

“It’ll be easier next time.”

Virgil lied awake, staring at the ceiling. His hair was still wet. Instead of going to school, he went to a barbershop to get his hair cut. Instead of the thick, long waves that reached down to the small of his back, the hair he’d been growing out all his life, it was shaved on the sides and his bangs fell in his face. Then, he came home and bleached the rest of the purple out, and dyed it black.

CHAPTER FIVE: TIME FOR OTHER THINGS 

At the end of homeroom, Patton came up to Virgil. 

They hadn’t actually talked since the first time, but occasionally, Patton would shoot him smiles or giggle in his direction, and Virgil would shyly wave back. When Virgil cut and dyed his hair, Patton squealed about it for about five minutes straight, telling Virgil how much he loved it and how much it must have helped his dysphoria. Virgil didn’t feel comfortable enough mentioning he didn’t really have any to begin with, just smiled and agreed.

CHAPTER SIX: DITTO 

When Roman and Patton got to the house Nightmare was hitting, a police car was outside and all the lights were on.

CHAPTER SEVEN: HE’D LOST SOMETHING 

After walking Patton back to her house, Roman wandered around the neighborhood.

He liked going on walks. He always had. He popped in some headphones and just let himself wander. There was nothing like a walk alone at night to get his thoughts back on track.

CHAPTER EIGHT: NO CONTROL 

Virgil stared at himself in the mirror. 

His costume wasn’t nearly as expressive as the others were. Ditto and Catastrophe actually turned themselves into characters, like Virgil thought he was supposed to. Ditto looked like he stepped out of a Disney movie, with a high white collar, a maroon half-cloak, big stompy boots, and a golden crown. It was one of the most extra things Nightmare had ever seen, and he almost felt stupid fighting him. Catastrophe, on the other hand, wore a pastel blue unitard, a pink tutu, ballet flats, and a fuzzy white cat mask. Virgil wondered if he made it the trans colour on purpose. 

Even Malus, they didn’t have all the flair the other two did, but they were at least unique, like some punk motorcycle driver that really liked apples for some reason. They were vastly accessorized compared to the other two, but the black fingerless gloves with the motorcycle helmet, Virgil could admit, was really hot. Virgil wondered if Malus, the real, non-hero Malus, drove a motorcycle.

CHAPTER NINE: SOFT & WONDERFUL 

Virgil watched with a grimace and a black eye as Remus finished installing their new T.V.

CHAPTER TEN: I’M RIGHT HERE. I’VE GOT YOU. I LOVE YOU. 

“I’m telling you, Ro, it’s not gonna work-”

“Just try!”

CHAPTER ELEVEN: ANXIETY CRAWLED 

At this point, nightmares were expected.

Virgil woke up around 4am, panicked and short for breath, guilt sending his head going miles a minute. Then, he looked up at the dreamcatcher swaying above him. He counted under his breath and traced the patterns of the string, the colours of the feathers. He remembered the warmth of Patton’s hug, his kind smile, his soothing voice. 

It helped, but not by much.

CHAPTER TWELVE: THINGS A LITTLE BROKEN 

Roman tiptoed out of his room, stopping at the end of the hall to listen. 

With any luck, Ophelia wasn’t wearing her hearing aid.

CHAPTER THIRTEEN: VILLAIN DAYS 

Derek wasn’t happy when Virgil got home.

CHAPTER FOURTEEN: GIVE UP 

Virgil still had money leftover from what Remus gave him. 

He was already taking the longer route home from school, so he tried not to make any stops. Derek hated him being late, and had just gotten accustomed to Virgil’s new schedule. But as he passed the cookie shop for just the millionth time, knowing he had the money, he decided to take the risk. 

Some days, risking Derek’s anger for a single cookie was the dumbest idea. Some days, it was worth it.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN: LOST CAUSE 

“Pat-A-Cake?”

CHAPTER SIXTEEN: ARE YOU EVEN A HERO? 

“Shh, shh!” 

“I didn’t say anything!” 

“You kicked the wall!” 

“Shut up, Roman.”

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN: HE REMEMBERED 

Patton pushed around treats on one of the plates, as she had been the last ten minutes, trying to make everything look perfect. Roman watched with a fond smile on his face.

CHAPTER EIGHTEEN: FELT BETTER, FELT WORSE 

Patton almost didn’t believe him.

CHAPTER NINETEEN: THEY ALMOST DID 

Virgil walked through the front door, and immediately felt like gouging his eyes out. 

Gross, gross, gross.

CHAPTER TWENTY: ONE, ONE GOOD DECISION 

They didn’t talk much anymore.

CHAPTER TWENTY ONE: MORE FAITH 

Virgil sunk low in his seat, his mask pulled over his face. His stomach churned as Remus drove them towards Hampton. He wouldn’t tell Virgil what they were doing.

CHAPTER TWENTY TWO: WHAT KIND OF HEROES 

It was cold outside. Even though the days were passing, and Christmas was a full month ago, the season clung to the Winter. It still snowed a few times a week, a light dusting falling to the grass and concrete and barely sticking. Roman rested his hands on the wet, cold wood of the railing of Patton’s back porch. 

That’s where Logan found him, after everyone had gone to bed and the two of them laid there pretending.

CHAPTER TWENTY THREE: PART OF HIM STILL HOPED 

Patton got to school extra early the next day, texting Roman before he woke up saying that he had to talk to a teacher. 

It wasn’t too hard to find Virgil.

CHAPTER TWENTY FOUR: AND NIGHTMARE LEFT 

The storage shed was fairly small and narrow, just enough room for them to push the dusty boxes to the sides and tie Nightmare to a chair down in the centre.

Sidenote: can’t really tell if that excerpt is a spoiler but? I think it’s fine? wish we had spoiler text like discord lmao 

CHAPTER TWENTY FIVE: YOU WILL BE HAPPY HERE 

Virgil spent the 20-minute drive asleep in the passenger’s seat.

CHAPTER TWENTY SIX: ON OUR SIDE 

Logan didn’t remember the last time they were this excited.

CHAPTER TWENTY SEVEN: THE INTRUDER 

The moon had risen a few hours ago, and after an extensive while of talking and trying to get a plan together that wasn’t absolute shit, the heroes decided to go to bed.

CHAPTER TWENTY EIGHT: ULTERIOR MOTIVE 

Virgil set his tray down with a huff, exhaustion making his movements heavy. 

“What’s got you in such a bad mood?” Lei asked in amusement. 

He scowled. “What’s got you in a good mood?”

CHAPTER TWENTY NINE: THE GENDERQUEER VIGILANTES 

Patton couldn’t help but smile.

Okay so that’s only half of the chapters I currently have written, page 206/422+, so if someone tags me again I’ll do the last twenty nine. Some of those chapter starts are kinda weak but I fucking love my chapter titles so whatever. 

Writeblr tag games tag list: 

@writinginslowmotion @energydeficient @notwritinganyflufftoday @clarence-writes @amapofyourstars @connieturnpenny @alextriestowritestuff @smokedstorybara @fantasy-penman @emerysilvertonwriteblr @writingessance

#writeblr #writerblr #writing #amwriting #maxgraybooks

[colbybrocksmolder]

Tumblr – Colby Brock x Reader

Tumblr is…a mixed bag. You’d made some of your closest internet friends on this poorly run website, but you’d also received more than your share of crazy fangirl hate. What’s crazy though, is how easy it is to make friends in the Sam and Colby fandom on Tumblr. 99% of everyone you’ve met is super nice and the group kind of shuts down the haters pretty quickly.

This last round of drama kind of wore everyone down. It all started with a hate anon that your friend DaddyDobrock received. “If Sam and Colby saw half of what you guys wrote on here they wouldn’t want you as fans 🙄.” She handled it well. She laughed and told the anon to lighten up and fuck off. You guys were pretty used to petty hate anons and rarely answer them, but boy was this asshole persistent.

Absolute-randomness-forever replied to a similar message with “If you don’t like what we post, don’t follow us?” Again, not really feeding into any drama.

Sp00kybrock got one trying to get her opinion on the whole thing. “Don’t you think most of the Sam and Colby tumblr fandom is toxic? Like, I bet Colby would cringe so hard if he went on this site. 🙄” She defended her friends, laughing it off. “My friends and I aren’t toxic. We post memes and joke around, but we support the boys 100%.”

Jakeywebber commented on a few of the new posts. “Does this person even watch the boys? They obviously don’t know that their sense of humor is exactly like ours.”

The anons continued to come in, a few other people getting them but not replying. They always ended with 🙄. The problem with one toxic anon is that they attract others that want to feed into the drama, and soon the hate is taken too far.

Someone got an anon telling them to kill themselves. Eye rolling emoji included. The blog posted the anon with no comment other than “deleting now” and went offline. To say that the rest of you were up in arms is an understatement. Lightenupbrock, that-one-brock-boy, badassbrock, the-sun-is-dark, colbyjacksmack, rewindfridaynight, xplr-lurker, brockboytrashz…you all jumped in and defended your friend. You sent them messages making sure they were okay, trying to convince them not to delete.

*Twitter notification* Colby Brock Tweeted : “FYI we see more than you think we see. Don’t pretend to be our fan and then treat other fans like shit. Especially anonymously. 🙄”

Daddydobrock posted “Anyone else see this?” with a screenshot of the tweet.

A few of the others reblogged it, adding comments. By the end of the thread, your group of friends was convinced that Colby either had a tumblr or occasionally lurked on it.

*tumblr messages*

Xplr-lurker : Hey, have you heard from the girl that got the kys anon?

You and Xplr-lurker had been tumblr friends for about 6 months. They messaged you after they saw how you interacted with the other blogs. You were always helpful, kind, encouraging…You had a reputation for being a sweetheart and Xplr-lurker had messaged you thanking you for it. You two became friends pretty quickly, asking how each other’s days went and such. Neither of you ever really posted your personal info on your blogs, but you knew a bit about each other. You both lived in Cali, you were about the same age, and you loved sending each other super emo tumblr posts when you were bored. Usually hella late at night. He knew you were a girl and you knew he was a guy. Other personal details kind of trickled through in your everyday interactions.

Y/n : Yeah. She doesn’t want to be online for a while, but she isn’t going to delete her blog. I gave her my phone number just in case she needed to talk.

Xplr-lurker : I figured you would 😊 I’m glad she’s okay.

Y/n : Me too.

Y/n : Hey, did you see Colby’s tweet? I think he saw all of this go down. I mean, maybe I’m just assuming too much, but he ended a tweet about anon hate with that stupid eye roll emoji just like the anon does.

Xplr-lurker : I mean, he said he checks his dms all the time. Maybe someone sent it to him?

Y/n : Maybe.

Y/n : Honestly, I’m just as mad for him and Sam as I am for the girl. How shitty is it that they have to watch the people who call themselves fans treat other fans like garbage? And they can’t do a thing about it.

Xplr-lurker : That sounds like it would suck.

Y/n : Right?

You had written a whole big post about how hypocritical it was for this toxic anon to accuse everyone else of being bad for the fandom when they were so willing to go out of their way to harm other fans. You reminded them about the videos Sam and Colby used to post about being confident and helping others. Their entire YouTube career started with them making videos wanting to help people. Just like every other post, you signed it with two black heart emojis. 🖤🖤

You had continued talking to xplr-lurker as you wrote the post. Venting a little bit about how frustrated you were.

*Twitter notification* Colby Brock Tweeted : “Don’t worry, we know there are amazing fans out there, too. 🖤🖤”

Y/n : Dude. I think I’m paranoid, now.

Xplr-lurker : What do you mean?

Y/n : Nothing. I’m exhausted. I just need sleep, lol. You do too, nerd. You said you needed to be up by 9 and it’s already 4am.

Xplr-lurker : Holy shit, my friend is going to kill me if I’m falling asleep tomorrow, haha.

Y/n : Haha, good luck! I’ll talk to you later.

Xplr-lurker : Thanks. Sweet dreams.

See, it’s pretty common for social media influencers to have secret accounts. It gives them a way to like posts and follow fans without starting drama. After collabing with CrankThatFrank, Colby was convinced to make a tumblr. He picked Xplr-lurker so that it made sense for him to interact with his own fans. He mostly just reblogged cool edits and funny traphouse memes. He’d comment on funny posts and throw his two cents in on theories and gossip. For the most part, it was kind of fun. People on tumblr were brutally honest but fucking hilarious. He never planned on talking about tumblr or letting anyone he interacted with on tumblr know that he was behind the username…but then he found your blog. He’d contemplated telling you for a few weeks now. The two of you talked almost every night and he felt bad. He felt like he was lying to you.

He’d first messaged you just to say a quick thanks for being so positive in the fandom, but the more he talked to you the more he kept wanting to talk to you.

The 🙄 anon stopped sending people messages after Colby’s tweet. Your friends on tumblr were able to go back to posting ridiculous screenshots and cool photo edits over the next week or so. You’d reblogged a gif of Colby about to lose his shorts on a waterslide with the caption “I feel like Elton has been trying to get Colby naked in vlogs since the start of TFIL”.

Xplr-lurker : *sent waterslide post*

Xplr-lurker : This is a fat fact. Lol.

Y/n : Right? Hahahahaha

Xplr-lurker : I think he does it for views.

Y/n : Probably. It’s the same reason Colby gets shirtless in his own videos. He knows people will click the thumbnail, haha.

Colby sat on his balcony laughing. You were absolutely right.

Xplr-lurker : Is that why you clicked?

Y/n : Haha, nah. Don’t get me wrong, he’s a beautiful human being. You’d have to be blind not to see that. But I found Colby through TFIL.  

Xplr-lurker : What made you keep watching him then?

Colby felt bad for baiting you out, but his curiosity got the better of him. As far as you knew, he was just another fan. This is when he’d get your most honest answer.

Y/n : A lot. First, he’s a huge goofball. Watching him and his friends do dumb shit to make each other laugh is the best.

Y/n : And everything him and Sam have done together? Those two dudes are fearless. They just remind me that I’m the only one holding myself back, you know? One day I’ll actually get out of my own way and make something of myself.

Y/n : He also seems super genuine. He never seems afraid to speak his mind or call something like it is. It actually bums me out watching some of his “friends”, If you know what I mean. I know that not everything they put out there is 100% accurate to how they actually are in real life, but I hate that slimy feeling I get knowing that a lot of them use Sam and Colby and don’t actually give a shit.

Y/n : I know I sound like a massive fangirl at this point, haha. I think I just needed to get that off my chest.

Colby sat there trying to figure out how to respond. He had a huge grin on his face seeing you spill your guts like you did.

Xplr-lurker : Haha, don’t worry about it. You just sound like you care. That’s not a bad thing.

Over the next few weeks, you guys continued to talk like normal, but it got a little more personal. He wanted to be able to call you a friend, but he was still afraid to tell you who he actually was. You two talked more about your passions and the things you struggle with. You’d always sent each other music to check out, but he’d confessed that he’d been dabbling in trying to write lyrics. He needed to find a way to talk to you as COLBY and not xplr-lurker.

*Twitter notification* Colby Brock Tweeted : “You feel so close but in reality I’m sitting here on my balcony alone.”

One of your tumblr friends had screenshot the tweet, adding the caption “This is how it feels to have better friends on the internet than in real life.”

You reblogged it and tagged xplr-lurker. You added “I wouldn’t trade our late-night talks for the world.”

Xplr-lurker : *sent tagged post*

Xplr-lurker : Yeah?

Y/n : Duh. You know that.

Xplr-lurker : Same.

Colby sat there, his fingers hovering over the keyboard on his phone.

*Twitter notification* Colby Brock Tweeted : “1 like = 1 ‘don’t be a pussy’ whispered in my ear.”

Xplr-lurker : Not to sound like a creepy internet person, but have you ever met any of your internet friends in real life?

Y/n : Haha, I don’t think you’re creepy. And yes! I’ve met a few of them. Why?

Xplr-lurker : I know we live in the same city and I’ve always wondered if you’d want to get coffee or something.

Y/n : That would mean that you’d get to see how awkward and clumsy I am in real life. I don’t know if I’m willing to put you through that, hahaha.

Colby laughed. That response was better than the “fuck off, creeper” he expected.

Xplr-lurker : Oh, shut up. You’d be the one dealing with me being awkward.

Y/n : Suuuuuuure. You don’t know what you’re getting yourself into.

Y/n : I’m actually walking home from my favorite coffee shop right now, haha. It’s called 101. They’re open until 3 am and they have the best food.

Xplr-lurker : WHY ARE YOU WALKING ALONE SO LATE AT NIGHT?!

It was well past 2am and the thought of you walking the streets of LA by yourself kind of had Colby on edge.

Y/n : I live like 5 minutes away. Don’t worry.

Colby pulled up 101 Coffee Shop on his phone. It was less than a 10 minute drive from his apartment. *We actually live pretty close* he thought, switching back to the tumblr app.

Xplr-lurker : Tell me when you make it home safe. LA is scary at night.

Xplr-lurker : Also, that coffee shop is not far from me. If you ever want to meet up there, I’m down.

Y/n : I just walked in my front door. Stop worrying, mom.

Y/n : And I’ll be headed back there tomorrow around midnight. My roommate’s boyfriend is obnoxious and he comes over every night around then. I usually hang out at the coffee shop and work on stuff on my laptop for a few hours.

Xplr-lurker : I’m glad you’re safe. I’ll definitely try to make it there tomorrow.

Y/n : I’ll be the one with the messy bun, laptop, and baggy Y&R hoodie, lol.

Xplr-lurker : If I don’t chicken out, I’ll wear an XPLR hoodie.

Y/n : Well I need to go to sleep. If I don’t see you tomorrow, I’m sure I’ll still talk to you on here.

Xplr-lurker : For sure! Have a good night!

Y/n : You too. 🖤🖤

“Fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuck.” Colby said, sighing. This was it. He was either going to walk into that coffee shop and blow his cover or he was going to chicken out like a little bitch.

The whole next day he had a hard time paying attention to anything or anyone. He was too busy trying to figure out the best way to tell you who he was.

“Colby!” Sam laughed, waving his hand in front of his friend’s face.

“What? Sorry.” Colby said, shaking his head and turning towards Sam.

“You okay?” Sam asked. Colby just stared at him for a minute. “I’m going to take that as a no?”

“I’m not, not okay.” Colby answered, sounding cryptic.

“Okaaaayyy.” Sam said slowly. “Care to explain?”

“I’m just nervous to meet up with someone later.” Colby tried to sound casual. “It’s nothing big. I’m just anxious, I guess.”

“Who?” Sam asked.

“A girl I met online.” Colby said, waiting for Sam to tease him.

Sam furrowed his brows. “Like on a dating app?”

“No.” Colby shook his head. “She’s a fan.”

Sam made a confused face. “Not to make it sound like I think you’re stupid, but are you being catfished again?” He laughed.

Colby couldn’t help but crack a smile, hiding his face behind his hands. “No, actually. I don’t even know what this girl looks like.”

“What?!” Sam asked, confused.

“That’s not the weirdest part.” Colby said, peeking through his fingers at his best friend. “She doesn’t know I’m me.”

“Is this for a video or something?” Sam asked, not understanding at all what was going on.

“Nope. I made an account to interact with fans and we just kind of clicked.” Colby tried explaining. “We’ve been friends for like 6 months, but we only ever talk through our usernames. The more I say this out loud the crazier it sounds.” Colby laughed.

“Sooooo, you’ve never seen a picture of her?” Sam asked.

“Nope. Not for sure. I THINK I found her personal blog, but I could be wrong.” Colby answered. “I only know her name because it’s in her profile, but she’s never asked me mine.”

“Is she going to be mad?” Sam asked, trying to wrap his head around the whole thing.

“That’s kind of why I’m so nervous.” Colby said, biting his lip. “She told me where she’s going to be tomorrow night and I don’t know if I should just show up or if I should rip the band-aid off and tell her who I am in our dms before we’re supposed to meet up.”

Sam had a blank stare on his face. “I honestly have no idea how to help you.”

“Don’t feel bad. I don’t know how to help myself.” Colby laughed.

“Tell me how it goes?” Sam asked.

“Of course.” Colby nodded, zoning out again.

At around 11:30pm you’d walked to the coffee shop. You ordered a drink and your late dinner and sat down in the corner booth. You worked on some things you were currently writing and gone through and caught up with your emails. At about 1am, you’d convinced yourself your tumblr friend had chickened out.

Right around 12:30am, Colby was stood in front of the coffee shop he was supposed to meet you at. There were only a few people currently in the shop, so it was pretty easy to figure out which one was you. He’d taken a deep breath and walked through the door, darting to the counter when he started to panic. With his back to you, he ordered a coffee. *I don’t even like coffee* he thought to himself. He kept peeking at you from the pick-up counter while he waited for his order. You had headphones in your ears, mouthing the lyrics to whatever song you were listening to. When the barista called out his name, he grabbed his coffee and left the shop.

Xplr-lurker : I’m stuck.

Xplr-lurker : You’re normally the person I go to for advice, but I feel like it’s unfair to put this one on you.

Xplr-lurker : You’re beautiful, btw.

You looked up from your computer, searching for your friend.

Y/n : Thank you? Are you here?

Xplr-lurker : I was. I chickened out. I kind of panicked.

Y/n : Aww, I promise you have no reason to panic. So why are you stuck? I’m always here to listen and give advice when I think I can help. You know that.

Colby sighed, sitting in his car.

Xplr-lurker : I guess it’s better just to come out with it.

Xplr-lurker : My name is Colby.

You waited a few seconds for further explanation.

Y/n : Okay? I don’t get it.

Xplr-lurker : Like, I am Colby Brock. I made this account to interact with fans.

Y/n : Please tell me you’re just fucking with me as a friend and not a delusional fanboy that’s trying to actually convince me he’s someone he’s not.

*Great* you thought to yourself. Not only did you have to walk home at night by yourself in LA, now you had to keep an eye out for a crazy person who wanted you to believe they were Colby. You thought this person was your friend and now you were afraid to leave the coffee shop.

Xplr-lurker : Neither? I know I fucked up by not telling you sooner.

Y/n : Well, since whoever is on the other end of this message knows I’m here alone, I’m going to call my roommate to pick me up. You know, you were really cool. You were my favorite person to talk to. This really sucks. You didn’t have to be anyone but yourself.  

When Colby tried to reply to your message, the chat said that he had been blocked. “Oh, fuck.” He said, jumping back out of his car. When he got to the door of the coffee shop, he could see that you were packing up your stuff.

“Y/n!” he called from the door, walking towards your booth.

Your eyes flew towards the boy walking in your direction, your hands frozen holding your laptop.

Colby slowly slid into the other side of the booth you were sitting in, putting his phone down with the tumblr app open. “I’m so sorry.”

“What the fuck?” you whispered, still not moving.

“You have every right to be mad at me and I swear I never meant to freak you out. I didn’t really think it through when I told you who I was. Is your roommate coming?” He asked, talking so fast you could barely process what he was saying.

You sat your laptop down and grabbed his phone. “My roommate wouldn’t come pick me up even if I did call her.” You said, looking at the tumblr app on Colby’s phone. You were the only person he had messaged.

“You were going to walk?” Colby asked, grabbing his phone when you handed it back to him.

“I was going to order an Uber.” You laughed. “This is crazy. You’re crazy.”

“Are you mad?” Colby’s face was apprehensive, waiting for you to tell him to fuck off.

“A little.” You nodded, laughing. “You asked me questions about yourself! I fangirled to you about you!” You remembered, covering your now blushing cheeks with your hands, hiding your face.

He laughed. “I feel the need to say this in person…You’re beautiful.” He watched as you peeked over your fingers. “And I’m the one that should be embarrassed about that, not you.”

“Why did you ask me to meet if you didn’t want me to know who you were?” You asked, remembering that this whole thing was his idea.

He laughed, reaching to grab one of your hands. “I’ve been trying to nut up and tell you who I am for over a month.”

“Why me? You didn’t even know what I looked like?” You were still trying to take in the fact that Colby Brock was sitting here in your favorite coffee shop holding your hand.

“I didn’t really care what you looked like. You’ve been a great friend to me since we first started talking and I was just some random person you met online…That has nothing to do with how someone looks.” He explained, blushing before continuing. “The fact that you’re also adorable is just an added bonus.”

You laughed, pulling your hand out of his so you could re-do your messy bun that was currently falling. “This is crazy. I want to re-read everything I’ve ever sent to you to make sure I didn’t make a complete fool out of myself.”

“Y/n.” Colby laughed. “You didn’t. I promise. There’s not a single thing you’ve told me that I don’t like.”

You stared at him for a moment, trying to figure out what the hell you were supposed to do now. “I have one question.” You said, leaning your elbows on the table.

“Ask away.” He answered, leaning forward the same way you were.

“What’s the REAL reason Elton always tries to get you naked in his vlogs?” You smirked, hearing Colby bust a gut laughing.

“Honestly, I’ve questioned it myself. The only answer that keeps me sane is clickbait.” He shook his head. “So, we’re good?” he asked.

“I mean, I don’t know WHAT we are, but I hope it isn’t bad.” You laughed.

“Well, we’ve been friends for over 6 months. I’d like to still claim that even though you know now that I’ve been a dumbass this entire time.” He smiled.

“I think I can deal with that.” You smiled back at him.

“Should I push my luck and ask you if I can buy you another coffee?” He asked, a shy look on his face. “I think coffee is disgusting, but I hear coffee shops make for great first dates.”

“You went from being afraid to show your face to asking me on a date.” You laughed.

“Well?” Colby said, waiting for your answer.

You nodded, your cheeks turning pink. “I’d love another coffee.”

I can remove any of the tumblrs I’ve used if you’re uncomfortable being mentioned. @daddydobrock @absolute-randomness-forever @sp00kybrock @jakeywebber @lightenupbrock @that-one-brock-boy @badassbrock @the-sun-is-dark @colbyjacksmack @rewindfridaynight @brockboytrashz 

#colby brock #colby brock imagine #colby brock fluff #colby brock oneshot #colby brock fic

[theda-rison]

Camp Nano July 2020 - Results, Discussion, and Conclusion

the Like, wow, Scoob! 

Camp Nano July 2020 is done, and here are some thoughts:

I always knew that writing a comic script was going to be a learning experience - I’ve never written a comic script so it really couldn’t be anything except for a learning experience - but hoooooo boy, was it ever!

Before starting I couldn’t find anything on how long comic scripts normally are; I don’t know why, that just seems information that isn’t really shared? (If anyone knows of a resource, please send it to me!) I’m guessing it has a lot to do with there just being less comic writers than there are say, book writers and movie writers. That’s probably what happens when your interests are niche in some way, it’s just harder to find anything about them.

FORTUNATELY, I have the fancy library-bound volumes of The Sandman, and there’s excerpts of the scripts in the back. Which like… thank you @neil-gaiman​, or whoever made that decision, because being able to look at an actual script and see how it’s formatted and what’s included has been the biggest help. Even the “How to Write a Comic Script!” videos I found on YouTube didn’t have example scripts which... I don’t know, I don’t get it. Please include examples, comic YouTubers. I am confusion.

Now is the time for a sexy graph, because we are the kind of people who keep Excel spreadsheets of word counts and make graphs for fun.

Anyway, let’s look at…

[Good. I was listening to As The World Falls Down by David Bowie over and over, and now this is stuck in my head again. I don’t know why I do these things to myself. Also, I love Peter Tork’s face during some of the “AAAHHHH”s lol]

I can’t remember if I stated this before or during Camp at any point, but my goal was 60k words. I dislike aspiring for un-round numbers like “1667″ every day. Any number I could possibly pick is arbitrary, but for some reason the classic Nanowrimo number of 1667 seems even more arbitrary. “2000″ is a much better number. And, I can generally write 2000 words in two hours before running out of steam, so it works out well. It also divides better.

Having said that, you might be thinking, “Theda, the end Actual number on your graph is a lot closer to 90k than it is 60k,” and you would be right, good eyes. Were I Brandon Sanderson and you were one of my students, I would toss you a gummi bear. As it is, you’re not my student and I have no gummi bears and I’m not even Brandon Sanderson… so life is just upsetting I guess.

[But I am back to listening to As The World Falls Down, so I suppose it all works out.]

Back to the graph: The Actual. Look at this wavy-fucking-scalloped-fucking progression. Look at it. I can’t tell if it makes me happy or angry or what, but I know it gives me some kind of feeling. I think I like it from a purely aesthetic point of view, but from the point of the view of the person who made it, it annoys me.

I had a couple of days where I - in my infinite stupidity - didn’t really elaborate on what was supposed to happen in some of the scenes in my scene list and so I spent my “Writing!” time (as it’s labeled in my planner) not writing, but looking at the page cursing myself for not having written any directions for me, a directionless person.

You may also notice that the Goal bars suddenly jump up on the 24th day,. That’s because - in my infinite wisdom - I redid my goals after reaching 60k. It just makes more sense to me to be like, “Well, I punched that goal in the face. Let’s try and go WAY overboard,” because I have the Too Much gene and as Henry Rollins says: “Don't do anything by half. If you love someone, love them with all your soul. When you go to work, work your ass off. When you hate someone, hate them until it hurts.” I wouldn’t say that’s a personal philosophy so much as a Thing I Am Compelled To Do Or I Will Die.

But that’s just me.

As for the trend line, I prefer it looking more steep because that’s way more gratifying, but that’s what I get for writing parts of my scene list like, “That’s okay, Future Me will take care of it!” Past Me, you are a dick and you need to stop doing these things. You are a bastard.

Now for the table! 

[I’m sorry if that’s very small.]

And this time I’m showing you the actual table I use to write down my words. Complicated? Yes. Sexy? Very yes. A little annoying? Also yes. Do we get a little worried that she works too hard and refuses to take a vacation? We do, but we also know that she does it because she loves her work, and we love and support her and bring her snacks throughout the workday to keep her going. What a great table.

First of all: Yes, my first writing block is at 4am. It’s because I have a day job and if I write from 4-6 I can use my brain right when it’s freshly slumbered instead of using it for nonsense at work all day and being unable to write and aggravated because my mental capacity is nil and I no longer know what words are. In an ideal world I would be able to write all day but, here we are.

You might notice there’s a lot of 0’s in the 4am block, especially in the fourth week, and that’s more so because - in my infinite infiniteness (infinity?) - I am secretly an ice giant (but like, smaller) and it’s summer and the northern hemisphere is Too Hot and I literally will not be able to sleep at night until about December. Until then, I am forced to understand what it’s like to be a jacket potato for half of the year so I can empathize with their starchy pain because this is, for whatever reason, Important.

It me. (Recipe)

Anyway,

My record day was 7519 on the 10th, which is just sexy and fun and cool and everything we want, and my lowest was a big fat 0 on the 16th.

I felt super motivated for reasons I don’t remember on the 10th. This is because I didn’t have my planner yet and was not keeping notes anywhere else at that time. (It’s an undated Daily Passion Planner, in case you’re also a slut for planners and wish to know ;) ). I think I was trying to do a 10k day just for funzies? Which, technically, at 2k words in 2 hours I should be able to do 10k in 5, but cell phones exist (and are too distracting), and until I shed my corporeal form I still have to do things like “make food and eat it,” and “get up to pee,” and “experience all the vagaries and horrors of human existence.” I’m hoping it clears up soon. 

The 16th was the day that Future Me took Past Me by the hand and said, “My good bitch, you need to stop doing that thing where you leave shit for me because you run out of motivation or executive function or whatever the fuck is happening where you decide you don’t want to do something anymore, seemingly at random. You deciding to leave school before the day even started because you were bored may have been cute when you were a kid - and also annoying for everyone around you, and just alarming that time they had to pry your hands off the door molding as you held on to it and screamed - but as an adult you are both the cause of and the person who has to deal with this bullshit, and you need to stop.”

On the 16th I went to the Shrine of the Self (sorry, I’ve been reading a lot of manga lately) and made an offering for forgiveness, and then hunkered down and added a TON of notes and partially written scenes to my scene list. You can see how much that helped; it’s almost like having direction is actually useful, lol.

BUT, despite all that direction and despite punching my goal in the face, breaking it’s glasses, and taking it’s lunch money, the script is not finished!

Here’s some math as of the 23rd:

There are 124 points in my outline On the 23rd, I had completed 44 of those points, at 363 pages or 59,601 words 124 / 44 = 2.81 Now we check: 44 * 2.81 = 123.6 (close enough) So as of the 23rd, the projection for completing the script was: 363 * 2.81 = 1,020 pages 59,601 * 2.81 = 157,479 words

Now, I don’t know what the fuck that means because I don’t really do numbers, but at the time of the 23rd it looked an awful lot like I wasn’t going to finish this Camp project. And uh… hey, that was correct.

So I’m going to be continuing Camp Nano July 2020, but also in August 2020, over about 20 more days (providing I hit my goal every day.)

So:

IF -> I need to get up to 158,000; 158,000 - 86,000 = 72,000 words need to be written. (I'm rounding the total up because I canNOT imagine this script being somehow smaller than that at this point, and I’m rounding my Camp total down because who cares about 72 words?) I divided 72,000 from a few numbers until I got a word goal I was okay with, that I think I can do, here’s that one: 72,000 / 20 days = 3,600 words a day (This would mean I can either do 2k in the morning and then 1600 later, or the reverse. You know, whatever way I feel spicy that day.) THEN -> I need to write 3,600 words a day for 20 days to (hopefully) finish this script before work picks up at the end of August.

And then I’ll chill from the end of August - October (except for maybe some short stories or essays. I have a lot of Thoughts and they need to be purged from my brain for my own good). And then I’ll use Nanowrimo Classic (November) to edit this fucker.

SO… that’s some stuff.

As I said at the beginning this endeavor was only ever going to be a learning experience. Having to write 158k words total doesn’t scare me, the longest thing I’ve written yet was something like 190k words. Trying to finish it before the end of August is the daunting part. Especially since being able to be creative right now just keeps making my brain puke out more ideas, and then there’s too many ideas and I’m just writing them all down and hopefully I can get to them later.

Anyway, good job on Camp Nano July 2020 everyone! We did it!

And if you didn’t do it: don’t worry, you’ll do it next time :D

#camp nano july 2020 #camp nanowrimo #camp nano 2020 #writing comics #neil gaiman #The Sandman #I was hoping to listen to the Audiobook when this was done but I guess I still have to wait #look at this grAAAph #excel #spreadsheet #nano graph #as the world falls down #Words #David Bowie #The Monkees #peter tork #brandon sanderson #too bad I can't give my students gummi bears over the internet lol #you're doing amazing sweetie #4am writing club #jacket potato #i like that the link says potat instead lol #one day I'll manage another 10k Day for funzeis #Shrine of the Self #math #me at math: I don't even GO here #bullying my goals #this update is four pages btw #learning experience #now for 72k in 20 days lol

[laynavile]

HEY! when u get this you have to say 5 things about urself that u like. no skimping and putting 4 or 3 or 2 or--u see where this is going. u gotta do it, u should he able to think of some cus ur awesome💜 afterwards, send this to 5 people. OKAY BYE NOW

Okay, so I'm a little late on noticing this and it was harder than I'd like to admit but,

5.) My eyes, they're hazel which is kinda meh, but depending on my emotions.. at least it seems like it.. they turn darker pure brown or super light and green and I think that's pretty neat

4.) My work ethic kinda.. hear me out, I procrastinate constantly and I like to take shortcuts as much as possible but, I get shit done when it needs to be done. I get it done and get it done the right way. I've had an ear infection for a week now, the pain is so bad it's been making me cry, I've still gone to work every day and got shit done. I had walking pneumonia and bronchitis, I could barely breathe and I still went to work. I may be "lazy" and I may take "forever" to actually do things but, once I do them I get them done quickly and effectively. My shift ends at 10pm every night I work, I get all my work done by 9:15 at the latest, all the other people who do my job are never done before 9:45, the other night I was training a new guy and I was told to let him do it all by himself and only help if he had questions or was doing something completely wrong, he didn't get done with everything until 9:55 🙄 understable if it was his first night training, but myself and 2 others have trained him a total of at least 10 times.. literally office training took me 3 nights and I had it all down, no problems. And my boss, like store manager.. one step below the fucking owner, literally thanked me the other day because I'm his best night office/shift manager, literally said I was as good if not better than his daytime office/shift manager, and he doesn't thank or compliment anyone, ever. (I apologize for going off on a bit of a rant there, I've been getting called lazy a lot recently and it really pisses me off.)

3.) My handwriting. I've been getting complimented on it since 5th grade.. do the math for me it's 4am now.. I'm almost 26 now so it's definitely been awhile 😂 literally tho I'll sometimes make random lists or write random words and stuff just cause I like my handwriting. Unless I'm rushing/my carpal tunnel is acting up at least.

2.) My writing, as much as I whine and complain and cringe at the stuff I write, I truly do like it. I know it's not always the greatest and I know a lot of the time I could do better, but I genuinely like it all. Like my ideas and word choices and what-not.

1.) My lips.. my half sister is quite jealous, she got our father's lips.. they're thin and small and while they suit her face she doesn't like them. Her constantly complaining and complimenting my lips has caused me to focus on my mouth a lot. And I do have relatively nice lips, not too thin not too thick.. but nice. (Writing this makes me feel weird tho so I'm gonna stop now.)

#idyllicstarker #alayna participates #alayna answers #alayna rambles

[daysswithyou]

V. Sungjin - Bet

Characters: Sungjin x You

Genre: enemies to lovers!6

Warning: some cursing and swearing

Credits: @7abshy and @parkjaeins; for helping me figure out how annoying teachers can be

Words: 5k

Description: There is always more than meets the eye

Author’s note: This wraps up the enemies to lovers!6 series :) I hope you’ve enjoyed all 5 of them! 

-----

I’m late, I’m late, I’m late, shit!

You repeatedly mouthed the words to yourself under your breath as you squeezed past the throng of people crowding the hallways, occasionally throwing an apology across your shoulder if you bumped into someone. Opting to not take the front entrance into the lecture hall, you ran up flights of stairs to reach the back entrance. By the time you reached the top, you were gasping for breath, your thighs were burning and you could feel the first beads of sweat roll down your back. Slipping through the crack of the heavy wooden door, you settled into the closest empty seat, trying to steady your breathing as your pants became too loud within the enclosed space.

Deep breaths Y/N, deep breaths...

You internally heaved a sigh of relief when you saw the empty podium in front, glad that your professor for this class will not have a bad impression of you.

But your relief was short-lived as the booming voice right next to you soon commanded for attention.

“Alright let’s get started, now that the last student is here.”

As he walks down the flight of stairs to reach the podium, it gives you enough time to observe the authoritative figure. His black leather jacket and ripped black jeans made him look exceptionally tough, and you swore you saw some male students flinch when he walked past them. His hair, which was the colour of warm chocolate, was too long and brushed against his eyelids.

He looks like a model that has just stepped out of a Harley Davidson advertisement.

But you mentally berated yourself for the inappropriate thought, and proceeded to haul it out of the window.

When he stepped onto the podium, he surveyed the whole room before starting again.

 “Good morning. My name is Park Sungjin and I’ll be your TA for this semester and for this class.”

 Ah, so this was the legendary Park Sungjin that you had heard so much about during your first semester. He was famous for being the top student of the graduating batch, with an impeccable portfolio to match. Apparently, he’s so good to the point that many companies and graduate schools have offered him a place amongst them. But, he is also notorious for being a tough TA and everyone’s advice was to just stay away from his bad side if you ever had the fortune (or misfortune) of being in his classes.

All you wanted was to pass this class peacefully so you made it your goal to not cross the line.

However, when he opens his mouth to give the next set of instructions, you knew that you were already on the wrong side of the line.

“So now, if you’re ready Ms Y/N, I’ll begin with the introduction on the topic.” Giving you one last hard glance, he turned to face the screen. Everyone else was furiously copying down notes, but not you.

He said my name, he knows who I am. I’ve been singled out.

It felt like someone had just passed you the death sentence.

-

A week passed by uneventfully and you tried your best to not attract attention to yourself in class. You were on time, and you were attentive in class. You never gave Sungjin trouble – or Mr Park, as you know him by now. Yet, such tactics did not work on him. You knew that you had his full attention when he stares at you from the front as he is giving lectures, even if you’re sitting in a last row. He’ll always linger a little longer behind you as write answers to the mini quizzes in class. You made the mistake of looking up at him once, and you nearly combusted under his hard gaze. What’s worse is that you can’t decide if he approves or disapproves of your work. Perhaps that was the most agonising part.

Today was no different. After handing up your papers for the quiz to the front, you attempted to slip away with the crowd but you just couldn’t slip past Park Sungjin’s attention.

“Y/N, could I have a word with you?”

You halted in your steps, his monotone voice sending chills down your spine.

Why me…

Squeezing your eyes shut and taking in a shaky breath, you turned around to face him before walking in his direction. Your steps were a little too hesitant and you were obviously clutching onto your bag too tightly because this was the first thing that Sungjin said when you finally stood in front of him.

“You can loosen your grip on your bag strap, your knuckles are turning white.”

“O-o-oh. It’s a habit, sorry.”

“What time do your lessons end today, Y/N?”

“6pm. My last lesson is Introduction to Psychology.”

“Good. Meet me at Conference Room 2 of the Social Sciences block, 6.30pm sharp.”

“Yes. Anything else…?”

“That’s all. You may go now.”

Giving Sungjin a curt bow, you scurried out of the lecture hall as fast as you could, dreading the time when you had to see him again.

 6.30pm came too early for your liking, and you soon found yourself face to face with Sungjin once more. A thick stack of papers were sitting by the corner of the table beside him and you knew immediately.

“I’m here to grade papers?”

“More or less; I’ll be giving the final grade and you can help me critique.”

You simply nodded before assuming the seat in front of him.

The next time you looked up, your neck popped up with a loud crack and the clock read 12am. Sungjin kept you thoroughly occupied for the past few hours, papers being presented to you in a systematic manner. You’ve said more words to him a few hours than you’ve said to all your professors combined last semester. While disguised as ‘extra exposure’ for you, deep down you knew that this was Sungjin’s special torture method – and you finally understood what others meant by getting on his bad side.

But the torture didn’t end there.

“Y/N, don’t forget that we have an assignment due the next day. Oh, and don’t be late. See you tomorrow.”

Everything sounds really innocent but you knew what Sungjin really meant was “Don’t mess up tomorrow Y/N.”

You wanted to let out a sigh of frustration but instead you swallowed it and merely replied with a spritely “Yes” before leaving the office.

 -

And this went on for months. Every single time Sungjin gave your class a quiz, you would find yourself in the conference room with him grading papers; sometimes at the expense of your own work. It gradually extended to grading papers from his other classes, but never once did you complain. You knew better than to argue with teachers, much less Sungjin. Every time he looks at you, your words die in your throat; how on earth were you supposed to hold an argument with him? But, of course, when you were back in the comfort of your dorm, which was when you were cursing and swearing at him. At one point in time, your roommate almost called an exorcist, thoroughly freaked out by the way you were flaying your limbs in the air as you continued screaming in frustration.

Needless to say, the late nights left with less sleep, and little energy to pay attention. You were up till 4am last night (or should you say morning), rushing out assignments due today for 2 different classes. You had burst into Sungjin’s lecture hall a good 20 minutes late but in your state, you didn’t care anymore. As usual, you settled into the closest seat you could find, one hand combing through the tangles in your hair, the other rummaging through your bag for your lesson materials. But you were so thoroughly exhausted that you fell asleep 10 minutes later, you pen stopping midway across your paper.

The next time you regain consciousness was when Sungjin’s voice calling your name rang through the speakers.

“So, Ms Y/N, what do you think of the question I just raised?”

You awoke with a start and you scattered your stationary across the floor in the process. You could hear the whole hall snickering at your blunder; save for the few kids sitting around you that helped you pick up your stray pens.

What was the question even? That was the most urgent question for you to answer. You shot a hard look at Sungjin, one that said, “How dare you call me when I’m in this state because of YOU.”

You were sure that he understood your gaze, but he merely raised an eyebrow, as he always did. It was the one that you recognised as “Go on, I’m waiting for your answer.” You knew that there was no way out of this except to answer his question. Panicking, you stared at the last word you wrote in your notebook before rattling off.

“The most famous poem from the Old English period, widely recognised by most is Beowulf. And for – ”

“Oh Ms Y/N, I didn’t know that Scandinavians spoke Old English in the late 10th century. Clearly, someone needs to keep her eyes and ears open. Also, I asked for your opinion, not of those from the 10th century.”

From beneath his long locks, Sungjin gave you a mischievous glint and smirked at you as the entire hall erupted into raucous laughter. Everyone was laughing, except you. Everyone found this funny, except you. Everyone was in a good mood, but you were livid.

How.fucking.dare.you.Park.fucking.Sungjin. I’m suffering in class now because of all your stupid “extra exposure” work after school. Yet you purposely picked on me to answer your question, knowing full well that I can’t. Why do you like picking on me so much? Why do you like embarrassing me in class so much? WHY PARK SUNGJIN!!!

You might have felt better if you actually said it out loud, but you didn’t. You just kept repeating this thought to yourself like a mantra until the end of the lesson.

It’s ok Y/N, just another 30mins of sitting in this hall and looking at his face. Afterwards you can leave and get yourself some ice cream to make yourself feel better. Yes, that’s right… everything is going to be ok Y/N...

But that day, things were not ok and you left the hall in a foul mood. For the final project of the year, you were paired up with Song Jihyo, the girl in class that was notorious for not doing her work.

Its official, Park Sungjin hates me and wants me to burn in Hell. That day, your whole body ached at the thought of more late nights and instead of eating your ice cream, you remembered hurling it at an innocent, nearby tree.

-

Everything that you thought would happen did happen. It’s as the saying goes, “Everything that can go wrong will go wrong.” And in this case, you were helpless against its happening. The only time that you talked to Jihyo was deciding on the thesis and after that, she was virtually uncontactable. You eventually gave up trying to arrange a time to meet to do up the thesis; you merely assigned her parts – which, to be fair, she did do. But they were of such poor quality you ended up deleting most of it and redoing it yourself. But no matter how hard you tried, nothing seemed fresh and you decided to bite the bullet and ask for help.

Lucky for you, Mr Kim was in class today and you immediately ran to him for help.

“Good morning Mr Kim. I have some questions about the final project thesis, is it alright if I ask a few questions?”

“Ah Y/N aren’t you? I’ve heard so much about you from Sungjin! I’ll be glad to help, let me take a look.”

Eagerly, you showed him what you had done so far and when he smiled, you felt a small smile creep onto your face, silently happy that you had gained his approval. But soon, the smile was wiped off your face.

“First of all, an excellent thesis choice, I must say. I remember Sungjin doing something similar for my class 3 years ago, why don’t you ask him for help? He is in a better position to help than I am.”

“Yes sir, I’ll ask Sung- I mean, Mr Park. Yes, I’ll ask Mr Park for advice. Thank you.”

With a light pat on your shoulder, he left you alone and when you turned, you found Park Sungjin standing right in front of you.

“I heard you need help?”

“Yes...” You hated it; you hated having to admit that you needed help from Park Sungjin.

“Hand it over.”

Reluctantly, you passed him your phone and turned to the side, not wanting to see his face further.

When he finally passed back the phone to you, you didn’t feel any more enlightened.

“You can do better than this.”

“What do you mean? That isn’t helpful!”

“That’s all I have to say. You know what to do, so do it.”

“I don’t! I don’t know what to do, which is why I’m asking for help!”

“Then sit down and figure it out.”

So that’s how it’s going to be – you won’t give me a consultation when I need it the most. Fine.

But that was not what you said. You said this instead, “Ok, I’ll figure it out.”

From then onwards, without help from anyone, you trudged through the group thesis yourself. This was on top of the individual thesis that each of you had to prepare for. You were literally typing so much (or rather, punching) your keyboard so hard that one of the keys fell out and you had to send your laptop for repairs. Not only was school draining your sanity, it was also draining your money. Due to the delay in repairing your laptop, you were left with a week to finish half of your thesis.

The outcome: later nights and heavier eye bags. By now, you were too tired to curse and swear at Sungjin for the terrible grouping since it was already taking insane willpower from you to even show up in class. You merely bottled up your indignation, and kept working to avoid thinking about it. After placing the stack of papers in Sungjin’s letter tray, you went back to your dorm and crashed for 12 hours straight.

This signalled the start of your 1 week break, and one week of not seeing Park Sungjin.

Thank goodness.

-

The next time you saw Park Sungjin, you were glad that it was the last time that you would have to see him. After all the torture he had put you through for the past semester, you were glad that you’ll be done with him now.

Yet, as always, Park Sungjin manages to make your life a living hell till the end.

Group Thesis: C

Individual Thesis: E

Overall: D

Comments for Individual Thesis: Clear presentation of key ideas and mostly factually correct. Choice of thesis could be better.

Signed: Park Sungjin

Choice of thesis could be better. Park Sungjin failed me, just because he didn’t like my topic.

You were brought out from your shock by a large shove from behind. Whipping around, you found a smiley Jihyo in front of you and her next words made you want to punch her in her perfect little teeth.

“Thank you for helping me pass the class Y/N! How much did you get?”

Without your consent, she ripped your papers from your hands before handing them back to you with a frown.

“That’s odd; we had the same choice of individual thesis, why did you do worse?” But Jihyo had no time to contemplate on the answer to her question when she was dragged away by her friends to celebrate their good grades.

I can tolerate everything that Park Sungjin has put me through, but not this.

Running up to Sungjin, you stopped him from leaving before asking to see him.

“Do you have time now?”

“Yes. What is this about?”

“This is about my thesis, can we talk somewhere else?”

“Conference Room 2 of the Social Sciences building in 10 minutes, I need to talk to Mr Kim first.”

“Ok.”

You were going to clear this once and for all.

-

“So, what is it about your thesis, Y/N?”

“You failed me just because you didn’t like my topic, didn’t you?”

You’ve rehearsed this part many times in your head and this wasn’t how it was supposed to sound like. It was supposed to sound polite and less accusatory, but fuck that. You wanted answers, and if you had to demand it from him, you will.

“Yes, I did. What’s the issue with it?”

“It’s not fair.”

“Nothing is fair in this world Y/N; I thought you’d know that by now.”

“Yes, I do know that. But what you’re doing is not only unfair, but also downright discriminatory.”

“How so?”

“Jihyo told me that we both had the same choice of thesis, and I got and E and she got a B. My grades are clearly a personal attack against my character. You never liked me from the start, I get it. But it’s wrong to simply disregard my entire thesis because you didn’t like the topic! What is wrong with this topic? It’s within the list of topics that you’ve given us, I met the word count, I met deadlines. I did everything!”

“And I’m supposed to give you a A for that?”

"I’m not saying you have to give me an A for it. I'm just trying to prove the fact that – " "A fact is already a fact, you don't have to prove it." "God damn it Sungjin! Would you just lay off me for a second? Would it kill for you to not correct my grammar for once? Would it kill you to not pick on me for one second?" "It's Mr Park, for you. It still is. And no, I won't lay off your grammar – you are an English language major that has taken my class, there is no way that I'm allowing you to continue to speak with bad grammar." "I hate you." "That can technically count as swearing at a teacher. Are you testing my patience?" "No. I'm just saying that it's not fair for you to give me a bad grade just because you did not like my choice of thesis. That's just being biased." "I'm not changing your grade." "I can't fail this module Sungjin! I need to pass this module to go for the Advanced English module. Yes, it's not a perfect thesis but I don't deserve to fail for this!" "Welcome to the real world Y/N." "I hate you Sungjin. I really fucking do." You pick up your bag and slam the door on your way out. That night, for the first time, you cried. And you hated the fact that you were crying over stupid Park Sungjin.

-

The next day, you awoke with puffy eyes but nonetheless, you showed up for lessons. You nearly bumped into Sungjin on your way to Psychology but you immediately detoured. You couldn’t get close to him – you might just punch him and be charged for assaulting a teacher.

That evening, you had just ended lessons when your phone buzzed and Sungjin’s name lit up on your screen.

Mr Park: You have another chance to redo your thesis and not fail the class. Deadline is January 20th, 2 weeks from now. Papers in my tray at 6pm sharp; don’t be late for the submission.

You swiped his notification away quickly, but you remembered the words and that night, you began sourcing for more ideas for your individual thesis.

For the next 3 days, Sungjin just wouldn’t leave you alone. Your phone buzzed with his name every now and then, and he was so distracting that you nearly wanted to block his number.

Mr Park: Are you going to resubmit your thesis?

Mr Park: Have you chosen a thesis yet?

Mr Park: What is your choice of thesis? How many words in?

Mr Park: Do you need help? Just drop me a message; I can help you check your thesis.

Help me with my thesis? Is he playing saint now? As if I’m going to accept help from him.

As you turned your attention back to your screen, you found that a shadow has fallen in front of your laptop. You found yourself staring at a pair of familiar, battered, black Converse and looking up only confirmed your suspicions. The man was here in person – Park Sungjin.

“Why aren’t you replying my messages?”

Why must I hold myself accountable to you? Buzz off.

You continued typing, completely ignoring Sungjin. You heard him sigh before inviting himself to sit in front of you.

“Y/N, what is your thesis? Hey, answer me. I came all the way down here to find you.”

“You came here voluntarily, I didn’t ask for your help. You can leave.”

“You’re still angry at me?”

Of course I am, you asshole. You’re just asking the obvious.

With each thought, you punched the keys on your keyboard harder.

“Stop typing so hard, you’ll spoil your keyboard. Working in spite is not going to produce quality work Y/N.”

Without your consent, he lifted your laptop into the air and onto his lap and scrolled through your entire document for 15 minutes. Passing it back to you with a smile, you stared at him in shock for 5 minutes.

Park Sungjin never smiles; did he just smile at me?

“You did it.”

“What did I do?”

“You figured it out. This was the choice of thesis I wanted you to choose in the very first place. Furthermore, you’ve chosen the correct area to focus on.”

“Thank you… I thought…”

“What did you think about?”

“I thought I might not be on the right track. But your words makes me feel a little more reassured now.”

“Well, I’ll leave you alone now.”

Park Sungjin then took his leave, but he was lying when he said he’ll leave you alone. He never did. Till the submission deadline, he visited you every alternate day.

As expected, you got an A for your individual thesis.

-

When you got an email from Mr Kim saying that he wanted to meet you, you thought you were doomed; most likely a disciplinary case on your head after what you said to Sungjin. But turns out, it was an interview for the Advanced English course, and they passed you immediately. When you walked out of the room still stunned that that you had entered the course of your choice, you found Sungjin waiting outside for you, almost like he knew you were going to be there.

“They passed you didn’t they?”

“Huh?”

Hearing his voice reminded you of what Mr.Kim said to you just now:

“We’ve received high commendations of you, Ms Y/N. All the professors pushed for your recommendation into the course, and Sungjin, especially. He was the first one to mention offering you a place in the course. He spoke of your remarkable working attitude.”

“May I ask something?”

“Yes, anything at all.”

“What exactly did Mr Park say about me?”

“He mentioned that you work well even under immense stress and long hours, catching up really fast even if you fell behind. But, most importantly, he spoke of your willingness to try again after failure. That is the most important quality that we are looking out for: tenacity. We have no doubt that you’ll be a suitable candidate to enter this demanding course. We would love to offer you a place, should you choose to accept.”

“I would love to, thank you. Thank you to the faculty and professors for having me.”

Sungjin hates me, why would be recommend me for the course?

“Follow me.”

Taking him by the wrist, you dragged Sungjin all the way to the bridge in the school park before letting him go.

“What’s with the rush, Y/N?”

Hands on your hips, you turned to face Sungjin with wide eyes, your lips set firmly in a thin line.

“I don’t understand you Sungjin. First, you torture me in lessons by making me so many extra work and now you’re putting in good words for me and recommending me for my dream course? Did you suddenly decide that you like me more now overnight?”

“Ah, so they told you everything I said. Mr Kim promised to not tell, I should have known he wouldn’t keep to it.”

“You’re still not answering my questions.”

“I’m getting there. First of all, that extra work was not torture, they were a test. I loaded you with many things to see how much you can handle before you snapped but thankfully and luckily for me, you never did.”

“I did silently curse and swear at you.”

“That is a given. But you didn’t say it out loud, so it doesn’t count. You’ve proven to – ”

“To be able to work well under immense pressure and long hours.”

“Yes. That is an important quality for taking any Advanced courses. I took the same course with the same professors that you’ll be having so I know how intense it was. I had to put you under pressure to see if my bet was correct.”

“I was your bet?”

“Yes, I was betting on you all along. You have great potential.”

“Thank you.”

“Oh? I thought someone hated me before.”

“Like you said, that was before. I don’t anymore. What you put me through was tough, but they did teach me more about myself and my limits. So, thank you.”

“You’re welcome. Now that I’ve managed to help you get a place in your course, I think it’s time to return the favour?”

“What’s your proposal?”

“Come to my graduation ceremony next spring. It’s in April.”

“Ok. That’s all?”

“That’s all for now.”

But when a soft smile lights up Sungjin’s face, you knew there was more in store for the both of you in time to come.

-

April 20th

You had come early to get front row seats and as you watch Sungjin give a speech representing the graduating batch, your heart swells with pride. You’ve seen him work very hard for the past one semester and to see him being handed his graduation certificate made you feel like all his efforts paid off.

You were the last to greet Sungjin because there was simply too many people crowding around him. You watch from afar and you giggle when you see Sungjin frantically asking Kang Younghyun if he’s seen you around. He does this thing where his eyes grow big like saucers, so big that you thought they were going to pop out of their sockets. You could also hear the fear in his voice – he speaks a little faster and slips into the Busan dialect. So when you greet him by gently tapping him on the shoulder, he whips around so fast the wind nearly knocked you over. But when you see his facial expression melt from one of worry into one of happiness, you nearly melt into a puddle there and then. You’d given anything to see those sparkly eyes and sweet smile.

“Ah finally you’re here Y/N! I saw you in the front row just now but then afterwards I didn’t so I was worried that you left but I haven’t got a photo with you yet. I was so sad  because I haven’t asked you my question yet – ”

“Calm down Sungjin! I’m here now right? Also, happy graduation! I got this for you.”

Proudly, you hold up the bear plushie you had custom made for him, decked out in the exact same graduation gown that he had on right now.

“It looks like you, right? I named him Bang!”

“Why Bang?”

“Because you always say goodbye in a very cute manner and Bang seems like a cute name to capture that cuteness. Also, I gave him eyelashes! When you observe the details, he really looks like you right?”

When Sungjin finally notices the eyelashes, he bursts out laughing and you swore your heart nearly stopped. When he finally stopped laughing and took over the bear from you, he finally remembered the question he wanted to ask you.

“Y/N- ah…”

“Yes?”

“If I ask you out…will you say yes?”

Just to tease him a little, you decided to look up at the sky, and contemplate your answer for a little while.

“I don’t know…maybe?”

“You can’t do this to me! I waited so long to ask you this question!”

“Why did you wait so long then?”

“I had to wait till I graduated. It wouldn’t be right for a teacher to ask his student out right?”

“That’s true…but I still don’t know if I’d go out with you. How about we make a bet?”

“With what?”

“With a coin. You flip a coin and I’ll decide. Which side are you confident of getting?”

“Heads, I always flip a head.”

“Ok, go ahead then. Heads for I’ll go out with Park Sungjin and tails for…”

With utmost concentration, Sungjin flips the coin and slams his palm over it when it lands. Opening his palm, his face immediately becomes crestfallen: staring back at him was a tail.

But you haven’t finished your sentence yet.

“Tails for…I’ll still go out with you anyways!” you said, as you gave him a quick peck on the cheek.

“Really? You would?”

“Ask any more questions and I’ll reconsider.”

“Ok, ok I won’t ask any more questions! What do you want to eat?”

“Fried chicken!”

“Oh, I was betting that you’ll say fried chicken!”

“Betting on fried chicken is great Park Sungjin, but I'm betting on something else now.”

Sungjin turns to look at you and he says, "So, what are you betting on now?"

"I'm betting that you'll give me a kiss."

"Really? How are you so sure?"

"I know you Park Sungjin, I know you'll do it. So, am I getting a kiss or not?" 

Without another word, Sungjin closes the space between the both of you, so close that if either moved, your lips would touch. You closed your eyes and waited for the impact, but instead you felt something soft press into your forehead and you immediately smiled. 

"Not where I was expecting, but ok Sungjin."

"I'm saving the best for the last."

"I'm holding you accountable for that statement."

"You can bet your life on it that I'll fulfill it."

Not only was he your best bet, he was your favourite bet too.

#day6writersnet #day6 imagines #day6 scenarios #day6 sungjin imagines #day6 sungjin scenarios #day6 #day6 sungjin #sungjin #park sungjin #enemies to lovers #enemies to lovers au #college au #angst #fluff

[elle-stevens]

The Break Up Blog - Day Twenty Six

It’s official: I hate my nasal passages. 

It’s like there are furry kittens growing inside of them, that’s how sensitive they are today. Not that I’m allergic to cats or any other furry mammals; at least, I still hope that’s the case. I have heard that some adults develop latent allergies later in life that they didn’t have as children. Wouldn’t that just be my luck if that happened? 

While I sneezed my brains out nearly all day, I carved out time to do a few creative and productive things. First, I made scones for breakfast; I haven’t baked scones in nearly two years. This is the first time I made them while living abroad by myself. Granted, I left them a little too long in the oven, so they came out firmer than usual. But for a first attempt in a miniature oven, they weren’t half bad, especially when I spread butter and strawberry jam liberally all over it. My colleague, N, expressed a love for scones the other day at work and I thought of her while baking this morning. 

So when I decided to do my grading for my students’ journals at a cafe instead of at home, I asked N if she wanted me to drop off some scones for her near her home since it was en route to where I wanted to go. I left my apartment 15 minutes later that what I initially told N, but the traffic was kind to me and I got to the meeting point early enough. N had a harder time getting to me after doing her grocery shopping. There’s all kinds of roadworks and construction happening in my city these days to build more subway lines and the neighbourhood close to where N lives is completely discombobulated, including all the bus stops that have shifted over slightly to make way for the construction walls. 

Anyway, N finally met me and I gave her the scones, which she was happy to receive. It seems like she’s really stressed about work since she and C are part of the recruitment process that hires new foreign teachers at my school. There have been some issues with visa paperwork and flight bookings for a new hire that has many of my colleagues completely stressed out. Thank God I don’t help out with visa paperwork at my job; I’d be two blinks away from being carted away in a straitjacket if I were. 

N had to rush off to her Chinese class and I made my way to a cafe she and C frequented the week before. The cafe has cosy decor inside and a terriffic balcony section above where you can sit outside. Sadly, the balcony was closed today; the cafe probably only opens it up in the evenings when they serve dinner. So I sat inside and did my grading, which was still nice and cosy. 

The grading itself was more stressful than I initially planned. Maybe I just over-thought it and did more than I needed to. But it took me close to 4 hours to check and correct 38 journals as well as give each student feedback and a rating based on their writing. I know that H meant well when she planned for us to do weekly journals with our students. But the plan was meant to be executed at the start of the school year and it’s already the second semester. Plus, she made C design all the journals in different formats and colours for each grade instead of just ordering ready-made journals from a publication house. Now H wants us to critique each student’s writing every single week and only give them positive feedback so they stay motivated to keep writing in class. If I have to climb up more people’s asses and kiss them from the inside, including those of my students, I might never see the sun again. 

Nevertheless, I forged on and managed to finish all my grading, even though I was hungry and the cafe suddenly didn’t serve food. But they had a menu which not only had drinks displayed on it, but food as well. So naturally I was confused that there didn’t appear to be any food. I wrapped things up and tried to call my Dad to wish him happy birthday. After all the delays with my money transfers, I was happy that I managed to send my siblings some cash to help pay for my dad’s gifts and the family brunch. But the signal was really crappy on my phone since I was outside and waiting for the bus to take me home. I managed to get back to my neighbourhood after 18:00 and made a stop at the grocery store to buy tomatoes, mushrooms and garlic. N gave me some French bread earlier, so I made some bruschetta for dinner. Not the healthiest meal to have, especially right before going to the gym, but it kept the hunger pangs at bay since I inadvertently skipped lunch. 

My parents and siblings ended up going on a drive around the beach, which gave me enough time to have a good session at the gym almost unimpeded, shower and then head home. I even had time to go to work beforehand to pick up the new headband I ordered for the gym that I used for my workout. Unlike last week’s ultra-crap fat-loss regimen, I practically aced it the second time around tonight, which kept me in good spirits. 

I got home after 21:00 and called my Dad again. With most phone conversations, I don’t always know what to say to him. I don’t know why, I just run out of safe topics quicker with my dad than with my mom. My mom and I aren’t as close, but we find ways to talk about very superficial things like who’s a new and upcoming contestant on ‘Idols’ or what new wave of crime hit my old neighbourhood this time around. I’m closer with my Dad, but it’s hard to grab time with him to have a good heart to heart. Still, I was in an excellent mood and the conversation flowed well, especially when we talked about dishes we’d been cooking in the kitchen lately. It makes me realise how much I miss my Dad these days. 

It was great catching up with my mom and my siblings too; I feel bad that P and G have been treated to my depressing and morbid side too much lately. So it felt good to ask how they’re doing and make lots of silly jokes to keep the mood light.  Even though I wished I could’ve been home with my family celebrating my dad’s birthday today, I’m happy they’re still able to have fun without me too. Sometimes I feel guilty about being so far away from home, but I know my family loves and supports me no matter. I’m really lucky and it’s time that I start acknowledging and embracing it more often. 

Throughout my busy day, I still thought of X on occasion. When I walked to the grocery store earlier, this called ‘Loving Strangers’ by Russian Red started playing in my iTunes library. That brought up a flood of memories all related to X. I actually liked that song long before X and I even became friends, but I put her onto it and it eventually became one of our songs that epitomised our relationship. The song is from a soundtrack for this lesbian romance movie called ‘Room In Rome’. It’s about these two women who meet at a bar in - you guessed it - Rome, and end up spending the night together in a beautiful Roman hotel room. It wasn’t the best acting in the world, but the chemistry between the two actresses was on sizzling and the movie had a scintillating soundtrack too. 

Anyway, X and I both loved the song and the movie and watched it together a few times over 3 years. When I visited her the first time in the Philippines, we stayed a lovely 5-star hotel for our last night together. Unintentionally, we acted out a few romantic scenes from the movie. Like dressing up in fluffy bathrobes after taking a swim in the hotel and staring out the window together at the city skyline. Of course, we improvised with other things, like slow-dancing in our bathrobes to Coldplay’s ‘Sparks’ and ‘Loving Strangers’ in the middle of our hotel room. 

That night was so bittersweet for me because my flight back home was at 4am (I still don’t know why I booked that absurd flight time), so X and I only had a few hours together in that hotel room before I left her. I felt like Cinderella on the night of the ball with the Prince. For those first few hours, everything felt magical and wonderful. But as soon as the clock struck twelve, reality kicked in again and it was time to go back home in my pumpkin carriage. 

Being with X always felt like a beautiful dream that I was eventually going to wake up from. Now I’m finally awake and it’s still disorienting knowing that we won’t have more beautiful memories together or new shared experiences to make life a little sweeter than it was before. But I’m trying my best to move on and only focus on the crappier aspects of X’s personality to make me miss her less. What I need is to just land myself a hottie Sugar Daddy or Sugar Momma with low self-esteem on the next go-around with a relationship and hope to God they never get clued in on the fact that they could do better than me. Don’t get me wrong, I know I’m a catch in a lot of respects, but I am also a hot mess. I’m a slow learner, but I’m getting better and wiser with time. 

Shit, it’s past midnight and I’m starving. I’m trying hard not to snack late at night, but I haven’t been eating well lately because of stress and my depression kicking my proverbial butt. Does this even still count as a diary entry for 7th September? 

Since I’m making up the rules for my own happiness now, I say it still counts. And from here on out, I’m gonna do whatever the hell I please. 

#breakupblog

[gay-gay-very-gay]

Dialogue(quote) Writing Prompts

A/N:  Send me a pairing and a number and I’ll try my best to write something good

0.  A quote of your choice.

1. “Can I kiss you?”

2. “Who crawls through someone’s window at 4am?!”

4. “I don’t hate you. I could never hate you. That’s the problem.”

5. “Teach me to fight.”

6. “Tell me to go and I will, but if you ask me to stay I’ll never leave you again.”

7. “I love you. I’m completely and utterly in love with you. Please don’t get married.”

8. “It’s only one night, I’ll sleep on the chair.”

9. “I wish you could see yourself the way I see you.”

10. “Of all the people I could’ve gotten stuck with and it just had to be you.”

11. “Kiss me, quick!”

12. “We shouldn’t be doing this.”

13. “I need you to pretend we’re dating…”

14. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have kissed you.”

15. “I need you to leave.”

16. “This is all your fault! I can’t believe I listened to you!”

17. “I will never apologize for saving your life, even if it costs me my own.”

18. “Don’t panic but I think we might have accidentally gotten married…”

19. “I’m not leaving you!”

20. “What do you want me to say?”

21. “I bet I can make you scream my name.”

22. “There’s no going back if we do this.”

23. “I can’t watch you with someone else. It’s tearing me apart.”

24. “Come over here and make me.”

25.“Please, don’t leave.”

26. “Wanna bet?”

27. “Teach me how to play?”

28. “Hey, I’m with you, okay? Always.”

29. “You need to wake up because I can’t do this without you.”

30. “I’ve seen the way you look at me when you think I don’t notice.”

31. “Marry me?”

32. “It’s not what it looks like…”

33. “If you keep looking at me like that we won’t make it to a bed.”

34. “I wish I could hate you.”

35. “Have I entered an alternate universe or did you really just crack a smile for me?”

36. “I swear it was an accident.”

37. “If you die, I’m gonna kill you.”

38. “No one needs to know.”

39. “You’re alive. That’s all that matter right now.

40. "Oh really?"

41. "Is that so?"

42. "Prove it."

43. "What's in it for me?"

44. “Shut up and kiss me already!”

45. “What are you doing?”

46. “Please don’t cry.”

47. “It could be worse.”

48. “She/he is trying to set us up.”

49. “Have you lost your damn mind!?”

50. “Do you…well…I mean…I could give you a massage?”

51. “Wait a minute. Are you jealous?”

52. “Is there a reason you’re naked in my bed?”

53. “I almost lost you.”

54. “Don’t you ever do that again!”

55. “Don’t you dare throw that snowba-, goddammit!”

56. “I think we need to talk.”

57. “Looks like we’ll be trapped for a while…”

58. “This is without a doubt the stupidest plan you’ve ever had. Of course I’m in.”

59. “The paint’s supposed to go where?”

60. “We’re in the middle of a thunderstorm and you wanna stop and feel the rain?”

61. “Just once.”

62. “You’re the only one I trust to do this.”

63. “I can’t believe you talked me into this.”

64. “I got you a present.”

65. “I thought you were dead.”

66. “You lied to me.”

67. “I think I’m in love with you and I’m terrified.”

68. “You heard me. Take. It. Off.”

69. “Wanna dance?”

70. “You fainted…straight into my arms. You know, if you wanted my attention you didn’t have to go to such extremes.”

71. “Hey! I was gonna eat that!”

72. “You did all of this for me?”

73. “YOU DID WHAT?!”

74. “Tell me a secret.”

75.  “Hey, have you seen the..? Oh.”

76.  “Boo.”

77.  “Well this is awkward…”

78.  “I’m pregnant.”

79.  “Please don’t do this.”

80.  “How do we keep getting into these situations?"

80.  “ Eleven years of friendship and I still don't know."

81.  “Well SOMEONE thought it would be a great idea to throw our backup plan off a bridge.”

82.  “It was on FIRE!”

83.  “That’s disgusting. You’re lucky you’re cute.”

84.  “Are you SURE I can’t punch him/her/them in the face?”

85.  “You have no idea who I am, do you?”

86.  “Literally everything about this is illegal.”

87.  “Why do you keep risking your life? To prove a point?”

88.  “Why aren’t you afraid of me?”

89.  “Stop that!” “Stop what?” “Doing that thing with your face when you’re happy. It’s making me nauseous.”

90.  “I’d take a bullet for you, you know that.” “You’re immortal, and I’m going to kill you if you keep saying that.’”

91.  “I want to go home.”

92.  “I’d agree with you, but then we’d both be wrong.”

93.  “I’m going to protect you.”

94.  “I believe in you”

95.  “Stop waking me up in the middle of the night.”

96.  “You belong to me.”

97.  “Stop getting crumbs all over my bed.”

98.  “I fixed you breakfast. I know it's just a bowl of cereal, but it's the only thing I can't burn.”

99.  “Any shorter and you'd probably fade out of existence.”

100.  “I saw that, you just checked me out.”

101.  “How can you put so much french fries in your mouth?”

102.  “Right now I really want to hug you.”

103.  “Don’t blame me your clothes are softer than mine.”

104.  “Why are you under the bed?“

105.  “Stop it I need to work.”

106.  “You can’t just come into my apartment like you live here. I tough you were a robber and I almost hit you with my bat.”

107.  "I’m gonna lay down and die for like half hour okay?”

108.  “I’m fine stop asking.”

109.  “Are you ready? Because I’m not.”

110.  "You know what? Let’s just forget that it ever happened.”

111.  "Please… I’m looking at you with my puppy eyes.”

112.  “I don’t care it’s 2:00 am, we need a pie.”

113.  "I’m not a princess. I am the queen.”

114.  “I thought there was someone in front of me but it was just my shadow.”

115.  “So why did I have to punch that guy?”

116.  “So what if I broke my arm. I’m still doing it.”

117.  “Come and get it.”

118.  “Was that supposed to hurt?”

119.  “The sun hasn’t even come up and you want me to do what now?”

120.  “I love being a third wheel. It’s so fun. This isn’t sarcasm. No, definitely not.”

121.  “How much longer are you going to stand out there? It’s raining. You’re gonna catch a cold.”

122.  “No. Not you. Anyone but you.”

123.  “Sorry I hung up on you. I didn’t mean to answer the call.”

124.  “For Gods sake! Who have you killed now?”

125.  “Where did you learn to pick a lock!?”

126.  “Whoa there Satan, cool your jets.” “I will cool nothing!“

127.  “”I trusted you.” “Well then you can’t exactly blame me, can you? It was your mistake.“

128.  “Why is there a picture of Steve Buscemi in your bathroom?!”

129.  “Don’t judge me, but I may have murdered someone.”

130.  “Is your name Bob? You look like a Bob.”

131.  “Quick, blend in!”

132.  “Can someone shoot him/her/them?”

133.  “Liam Neeson would do it.”

134.  “I’d say I’m sorry, but I’m not.”

135.  “How much did someone pay you to wear that?!”

136.  “You know, I would help, but making fun of you is so much more satisfying.”

137.  “I laugh because I hurt inside.”

138.  “That’s it, I guess…This is goodbye.”

139.  “If your life had a face, I’d punch it.”

140.  “I saw this and, well, I thought of you.”

141.  “Describe our relationship in two words.” “Our what?”

142.  “We can stay in bed all summer.”

143.  “My angel.”

144.  “I miss you.”

145.  “…except for being a bit fucked in the head, I’d say she’s/he’s/they’re normal.”

146.  “…But I’ll forgive you anyway.”

147.  “Well…That wasn’t very romantic. Kinda gross too.”

148. “It was just sex…It means nothing. Right?…Right?”

149.  “Don’t you have to be stupid somewhere else?” “Not until four.”

150.  “Your existence gives me a headache, go stand over there.”

151.  “Have you considered murder?”

152.  “I have to go... iron... my cat.”

153.  “All I heard was ‘I swear it will be funny...’ and now we’re in jail.”

154.  “How the hell am I going to explain this?” “Aliens?” “...Aliens.”

155.  “I am very much fishing for compliments.”

156.  “Fell free to admire me.”

157.  “Are you really trying to cover my face up with a paper bag right now?”

158.  “We really need to stop staying up so late for our science experiments. I’m so exhausted, I can’t even see straight.” “Yeah, because you’re gay, I get it.”

159.  “Do you want to feel how hard I can punch?”

160.  “I can make this right”

161.  "My problems have problems”

162.  "I’m one thousand percent sure that’s illegal in every way.”

163.  “Try me”

164.  "I’m not the kind of person people fall in love with."

165.  "Sorry I’m late, I was doing stuff.” “I’m stuff.”

166.  "There’s a lot of things I want to say, but none of them are nice”

167.  "Stop stealing the cookie dough!"

168.  “How long have you been standing there?” “Longer than you’d like.”

169.  "Don’t worry, I’m used to it.”

170.  "Stop laughing”

171.  "I feel like I should be offended by that, but I’m not because that is awesome, so jokes on you.”

172.  "Dang it, I was totally hoping to see them angry”

173.  “I am way too sober for this shit.”

174.  "You have individual ringtones for everyone? What’s mine?”

175.  "Is it still murder is he/she’s a dick?”

176.  “Keep it somewhere safe." *stuffs it in bra* “What? It’s the safest place on earth.”

177.  “I swear to god, if you keep distracting me, I’m going to knock you out.”

178.  “I cannot work with you staring at me all day”

179.  “I don’t want to be your partner either but we have to get this assignment done"

180.  “I brought blankets, takeout, and your favorite movie. I know it won’t fix everything, but it might help."

181.  “I’m never leaving this blanket nest again."

182.  "I want to know where you went, but I’m not going to force it out of you’"

183.  “I know it’s 2am but can we meet up?"

184.  "I told you you’d get sick.”

185.  "Hold on. You look familiar. Really familiar.”

186.  "I don’t quite know how they do it, but they make things seem easy”

187.  “My best is never good enough.”

188.  "Tell me what will help and I’ll do it”

189.  "Don’t make me come over there”

190.  "RUN FOR YOUR FUCKING LIFE.”

191.  "Drunk i’m not”

192.  “The next time you shoot a guy, don’t do it on national television.”

193.  “Forgive me if I’m misreading things, but do you want to make out?”

194.  “I feel like we’ve met before…”

195.  “We’ve been waiting two hours.”

196.  “Do you trust me?”

197.  “Well, that could’ve gone better.”

198.  “If you were logical you would’ve killed me already.”

199.  “Please don’t use sarcasm. It confuses me.”

200.  “Why is THAT your password?”

201.  “Careful not to break the—oh.”

202.  “I thought you had him!”

203.  “Why are you helping me?”

204.  “I know you’re here. You may as well show yourself.”

205.  “What makes you think it was an accident?”

206.  “Sweetie, what were you thinking?”

207.  “I can’t believe I’m telling you this.”

208.  “I can’t believe I used to think he was attractive.”

209.  “Guess who made the evening news?”

210.  “I panicked, okay?!”

211.  “Did I actually mean something to you, ever?”

212.  “Yeah… I don’t do relationships”

213.  “Don’t make me laugh”

214.  “You broke my nose!”

215.  “I wanna go home”

216.  “Just one more night”

217.  “You almost burn my house down!”

218.  “It was an accident!”

219.  “You wanna get food at 2 am?”

220.  “Hold up, you what?”

221.  “ And yet, you’re still here.”

222.  “This means nothing.”

223.  “Hello? We’re in the middle of something”

#writing prompts #otp #x reader #requests #masterlist

[enkelimagnus]

Shul (Present)

Bucky Barnes Gen, 2124 words, rated M for Hydra shit

Jewish Bucky Barnes, pre TFATWS, post Endgame

Bucky has a nightmare, goes on a run and gets a flyer in his mailbox.

TW: this contains a nightmare featuring murder, dubcon sex and Winter Soldier/Hydra Agents, as well as Bucky thinking of cryostasis

Read on AO3

Part 10 of Making a Home - the Jewish Bucky series

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

The target stands at the window of their office, in perfect line of sight of his sniper rifle. He’s looking at the sky with awe of the colors exploding there. He pulls the trigger. He’s calculated and anticipated for the light wind. The kickback hits his shoulder. The shot resounds in between the high rises. No one notices. They’re all watching the fireworks show. The body drops backwards in the apartment, red exploding behind it. It’ll be found by his campaign manager in 30 minutes or so. It’s 9.26pm, on July 4th, 2010.

He takes a step back and finds himself kissing someone. Or rather, someone is kissing him, devouring his mouth, and all he can do is respond because that’s what he’s been trained to do.

There’s a naked man kissing him in a hotel room. Midnight, July 18th, 2010.

The Asset is to obey all the commands. Make the man happy. Make the man comfortable enough that he’ll do anything he’s ever desired of him. The Asset is his perfect plaything for a night, up for everything and anything, no matter how painful, or terrifying, or dangerous. It’s a mission. No matter what the man asks of him, he’ll say yes.

The next day, his handlers look through the videos and photos of the night as they fuck him. They pass the evidence of the mission around, just like he is passed around in between them. There are teeth against his neck. They bite him and he groans in pain and pleasure. The hand in his hair tightens, pulls, hard. He groans again. There’s fireworks behind his eyelids when they allow him an orgasm.

White pleasure fades to black as he walks into a dirty, stinky alleyway. 2.12am. August 2nd, 2010. There’s a man puking behind a garbage can, in a fancy suit. An elephant-shaped pin on his lapel. The Asset grabs him by the throat. There’s vomit on the corner of his lips. His fist slams into the man’s skull, three times until he’s dead. They’ll find him in the morning.

November 2nd, 2010. His handler’s eyes are the bluest thing he’s seen. He’s aged in the last decade, but his hair is still blonde. “You’ve done great work, soldier,” Alexander Pierce says. The Asset would preen at the praise if he was allowed to move. “You have helped shape New York City for the better today.”

On the tv, a woman’s name and picture are shown. New York Senate race. She’s won. The handler pets his hair and the Asset sighs softly in contentment. “Thank you,” he croaks out. He doesn’t see the slap coming.

Bucky wakes up shaking from the force of the slap in the memory. Pierce was getting old, but he was still strong. His face is burnt into Bucky’s retinas. He’s too hot and too cold at the same time, sticky with sweat.

The only noise in the room is his hard, panicked breathing. His face should sting, but it doesn’t. The slap was a dream. The slap happened a long time ago, and he doesn’t feel the light pain from it anymore.

He always expects his body to hurt, when he’s hurt in his dreams. It rarely ever does.

He sits up, everything feels heavy. He desperately wants to go back to sleep, but he knows that’s not going to happen. It never does, at this time of the night, after such a nightmare. Murder, sex, reward, punishment. Just a normal day in the Asset’s life.

The senator though… He has to do something about that.

Bucky stands up. He feels weighed down by the nightmares, by the years, by everything. He should be fucking dead by now. His body shouldn’t have kept going this long. He should have died in the early 2000s, at the maximum. Some days, he can feel it. The age, the heaviness, the wrongness of being 106 and looking 32. He sighs, bone-deep. He’s so tired.

He still makes it to the counter, where the notebook is. He writes down ‘Senator, New York, 2010’ before he forgets. He’ll have to research her. But it’ll add another name to his list. He doesn’t remember the names of the other people he hurt in this dream. He might be able to find out. Later, though. Not now. He’s too tired.

He gets dressed machinally into his usual running clothes, leaves his phone on the counter and gets running.

The door slams shut behind him, and someone startles to his left. He sends a sideway glance towards it - discreet recon - and it’s just his neighbor. They’re smoking pot, he can smell it without issue, on the stairs of their house next door. They’re bundled up in a thick coat and Bucky’s standing in a t-shirt like a crazy person.

It’s cold as fuck. He needs to get moving or he’ll freeze in place. The neighbor nods at him and he nods back. It’s the fourth time they have this interaction, on Bucky’s horrible nights, with them on the stairs smoking weed. He should probably ask for the guy’s name at some point.

He gets running. The cold is horrible. His lungs start burning fairly quickly. He’s struggling to breathe properly and he can feel even his enhanced body starting to struggle after a while. It’s punishing. He’s punishing himself. He pushes and keeps going though, until he can’t think anymore.

Empty-headed, focused on his body’s discomfort, he runs for a solid two hours, until he can’t take it anymore.  

He’s going to go home and keep his work out going with the weights in the guest room. He wants the sweet, beautiful release of complete exhaustion from physical activity. Not the one that comes with mental strain, the memories, the emotions. He just wants his body to give, for once. He wants to be physically weak.

He’s trembling with exhaustion and cold once he comes back home. The neighbor isn’t at the stairs anymore. It’s past 4am now.

He unlocks the door with shaky hands and walks into the warmth of his house. There’s a piece of paper, crumpled and washed out, on the floor of the hallway. It’s been pushed through the mail slot at the bottom of the door. It wasn’t there when he left, as far as he knows.

He bends down to pick it up and uncrumple it. It’s a flyer, printed in color but washed out a little. It’s not the most recent.

“Bnai Israel Anshei Romania has moved to a new address!” It says in what he imagined were bright, cheerful colors before they got discolored by time and life. It doesn’t matter the state of the colors, however. What matters is what it says.

Bnai Israel Anshei Romania .

That was the name of his congregation, the one whose shul was made into a church. The Sons of Israel, Men of Romania. A lot of immigrants like his parents had gone there. They spoke Yiddish and various dialects of Romanian in there. He went to Hebrew school there. He did his aaliyah there, for his bar mitzvah.

It’s alive .

The hope is almost violent. He feels his heart beat faster. They’re alive. The congregation is alive. They’re not completely gone, they’re not all dead, they just had to move. It’s… He doesn’t know what to do with it except clutch the paper a bit too hard, and look back at the empty stairs in front of his neighbor’s house.

How the fuck did they know? Bucky suddenly has a lot of fucking questions to ask them, but all he can do is stay there for a moment, staring at the stairs and trying to get his brain to start working through the mist of blinding hope and relief.

Eventually, the cold is enough to chase him back inside his house, with the plan to go and bang at the neighbor’s door tomorrow and demand to know how they knew that this was Bucky’s old shul. He doesn’t remember the Smithsonian writing he’s Jewish. No one knows that.

They know James Buchanan Barnes was a sergeant during World War II, a Howling Commando, and the Winter Soldier. They don’t know the intimate details of immigrant parents and Jewish upbringing. That’s not… American enough. They’d rather he be like Steve, a good Christian boy, from West European descent.

Did the neighbor just luck out? Did they see the mezuzah at Bucky’s door and just go “ah, I should probably give him that flyer I have”? Perhaps it’s just a coincidence.

He makes sure to lock the door properly and put the flyer flat on the counter, in the middle of it. The water he grabs from the sink feels warm to his frozen insides. He feels like he’s thawing again.

He wraps himself in a thick woolen blanket and waits for his body to warm up again, before he takes a shower. If he takes it now, his brain will stop functioning correctly, and he’ll destroy everything in sight in a desperate attempt to get away from the burning water. He shouldn’t have gone running like this. The feeling of thawing is… uncomfortable at best.

Cryostasis felt like being knocked out cold. He could never tell how long time passed. Waking up from it was always torture. His mind awakened to a sluggish, frozen body, thick slurry in his veins instead of blood. His entire organism fought violently to bring him back to life. It felt like billions of needles piercing through every cell in his body.

They unhooked him from the machine and brought him out, and he was always too frozen to walk, still. So they dragged him, with his body on fire, to the chair. They needed to wipe him before they completely defrosted him, so he wouldn’t attack once he was thawed.

The first time he’d been taken out of cryostasis, he’d tried to escape. He remembers the concrete on the ground, the bleak lights. He doesn’t remember where he was, in the world, except a lab. He’d killed three scientists before someone had managed to knock him out with sedatives and electricity. He remembers their screams, their terrified eyes, as if they didn’t expect the monster they’d made to try and get away. Some of them were young, none of them were innocent, not to him. They’d been dead either way.

It was in the early years of the chair, in what he believes was the late 50s. After Isaiah Bradley, and before America. He’d still tried to get away whenever he could. He’d fought them at every turn, until they’d finally figured out the correct setting of the chair.

He didn’t have much pride left by then, not after a decade since the fall, but he still had some fight in him. Old, desperate instincts, more feral than intellectual. He didn’t remember who he was, but he remembered it was wrong, that he needed to get away. They’d beaten those instincts out of him in the following months. It had been his last true attempt at escaping.

He’s warmer now, so he goes for that shower. He starts with the water on the coldest setting and works his way up, slowly. He can afford to waste a little water. He can afford a lot of shit these days, and it doesn’t feel good. Money won’t erase the decades of torture. It won’t make it better. It feels like hush money. The army tries to keep him quiet and obedient, through any way it can: money, employment, mandatory therapy, monitoring, housing.

At least he owns the house he sleeps in now. He’s a homeowner. Fucking unbelievable.

He was declared dead, then was revealed to the public ten years ago, was a fugitive for four years, then dead again for five years, then in prison and he’s been out for two months and he’s a decorated vet with a weird job with the army that he isn’t sure is actually supposed to exist, a pension he has no idea how to spend and a fucking house.

Half of the time, everything confuses him so much he just stays inside and tries to figure out the world through the laptop Shuri sent him when he got pardoned, with a little card that read ‘Happy You’re Not a Fugitive Anymore Day, White Grandpa #1’.

He gets out of the shower, puts on sweatpants and a sweater and goes get that laptop out of its back.

There’s several research topics on his plate tonight, to occupy the couple of hours before the sun rises again. That senator lady he helped put in power. And the congregation he just learned was somehow still standing after eighty years.

#jewish bucky series #jewish bucky barnes #bucky barnes #alexander pierce #marvel #mine #fic