#-> lmao those were all old tags from a few months ago but the point still stands

[martuzzio]

A continuation of the reblog graph post I made a few days ago, but this time I'm comparing my Hermitcraft art to my CoD art specifically

The left graph is for this CoD post, which currently has ~2.5k notes with ~300 reblogs

The right graph is for this Hermitcraft post, which currently has ~2.4k notes with ~650 reblogs

I've added some of my thoughts as to why this is happening below (put under the cut to not smack you with a wall of text lol). TLDR is at the end if you just want to read that. Let me know your thoughts if you have them! :)

About CoD (btw all of this disregards my artistic ability, I'm just talking about fandoms right now)

The art I make for CoD is based on the newest game and focuses on how cool/hot the characters look, with little to no depth to the art otherwise. This attracts the Ghost simps (myself included lol) to like the post and possibly look at it later, but not really do much more than that

The above point happens because 1) the newest CoD game is very VERY fresh, like not even a month old, so it doesn't really have an actual fandom yet, and 2) the CoD games have a huge bubble of influence on society (much more than mcyt). These two factors mean more people will dip their toes into CoD fanmade content, but not really stay for long. A large portion of the new fans will slide in, do a mass liking spree, and leave when the hype is over. Some new people, like me, will stick around and become part of the fandom :)

The people in the actual CoD fandoms (who have been interested in the various CoD games for years) might like my art and reblog it because they appreciate it (thank you if you do :D), but my art isn't really for their game/fandom. Those fandoms are strong and thriving, but they're small compared to the huge influx of people obsessed with Ghost right now lol

An example of this artificial inflation is the notes on my art of Ghost/Roach. The people who reblogged with tags were very happy to see it and were very kind (thank you!), but the post got less notes than my other CoD art because all of these new Ghost enjoyers have no idea who Roach is lmao (or just don't like Ghost/Roach)

There aren't a lot of reblog chains in the CoD screenshot above because most people who reblogged my post weren't seeing it on their dash already reblogged from someone else. Most of them likely searched for the tags I used on my post and saw the original in the search feed

About Hermitcraft

HC's been around for what feels like forever and trends on tumblr and twitter a few times a year, which is a MUCH bigger influence than most fandoms out there. The bigger the fandom is, the more people will be interested in reblogging and talking about people's posts instead of just liking them and moving on

I'm established within the fandom, with around 2.5 years of HC-related content under my belt. This entire time, since 2020, I've seen the same friendly faces reblog my content (thank you, you know who you are :D) alongside new people. When you post for a long time in the same fandom, people start to remember you. You become part of the fandom itself, a contributor instead of just a consumer, and people start to reblog more

Because I and a lot of my mutuals/followers are in the HC fandom together, it's very likely that a lot of people will see my art on their dash already reblogged from someone else instead of seeing the post from me directly. That's why the HC screenshot above has so many crazy reblog chains - someone reblogged my art, and then someone else who also likes my art reblogged from them instead of me

TLDR; my CoD posts get a lot of notes, but not a lot of reblogs, because the horny hype train is real and I jumped on it at the right time. My HC posts (at least some of them) get a lot of notes AND reblogs because the fandom is large and I've established myself within it here on tumblr

#hermitcraft #call of duty #sorry for how blurry the screenshots are

[lovely-echoo]

Sleepy Bois Inc x FranBow!Reader

In-game AU

Part 1/? Pt.2

Plantonic!SBI x Young!Reader

(10/11 years old)

OneShot/Drabble(?)

Genderneutral reader (they/them) 💜

INFO; If you haven't played or seen game play of Fran Bow then you can skip this if you'd like. If you don't care then go ahead.

Summary; Basically if you've seen/played the game you should know how this goes, you take place of Fran. So you go/went through the same things she did and you still have Mr. Midnight. This takes place while Fran is still in the mental hospital and then got teleported near the SBI.

Honestly I kept thinking about this but was afraid to request it to anyone so I'm doing it my myself-

If I get any info wrong, I'm sorry! I rewatched Markiplier's game play so it shouldn't be way off.

P.s not everything is described the same.

(^ art by sunquids on twt)

CW/TW: mentions/includes of cussing, gore, death, blood, consumption of medication, sexual assault (brief mentions of Damian/The King)

Fluff/Normal

(Angst if you squint)

How you ended up there - How you met Philza and Technoblade

As you were walking around the hospital, you decided to take a pill to see if it'll help.

You watched as your vision blurred and some sort of demonic noises rang in your ears.

After a few seconds your vision cleared up, you took a look around the front desk.

The once dull and lifeless room had turned into this even duller and just plain deathly like room.

Blood was everywhere, random body parts of babies where thrown around. A skeletal figure was hung with what looked like an umbilical cord wrapped around its thin bones, it was connected to this baby covered by a blue blanket.

Just about everything looked grotesque.

Suddenly the floor ahead of you opened and this slimy black tentacle like arm grabbed you by the waist and pulled you in.

It seemed you may have passed out during your fall because you woke up to the sounds of hissing and supposedly two men.

Oh and let's not forget the killer headache causing the ringing in your ears. :)

You rubbed your eyes as you sat up, the light around you seemed much brighter than before.

You looked at the two men in front of you and then glanced down, you spotted Mr. Midnight!

His fur was spiked up and his ears were flat against his head. He seemed to be trying to protect you from the men.

Ignoring their presence you immediately scooped up your precious fur baby in your arms.

Your mind completely forgot about the fact there are two strange looking men in front of you.

A few droplets of water dripped down your (S/C) cheeks onto your (F/C) shirt/dress.

You started crying, so much happened in a short period of time and you found your cat you oh so desperately tried to find.

It panicked one of the adults. Said adult was an average tall man with slightly longer blond hair than average, he also had a green and white striped bucket hat. But what stuck out the most was the large pair of wings behind his back.

At first you thought that it was your pills fault but everywhere around you looked….

Normal?

It seemed like your meds wore off while you supposedly passed out.

But that doesn’t help or ease you at all. If the side effects wore off then how the hell did he have wings?!

The blond walked towards you slowly, like you were an injured puppy. His blue eyes roamed around your body, as if studying your every mouvements.

The other man who was beside him earlier seemed to tense up and looked at him as if he grew another head. He was on edge you assumed.

But he looked even weirder to you. He had long pink hair tied into a loose braid falling over his shoulder. Was it natural? He also had tusks peeking out from his bottom lip, they were large but not enough to be in the way. His skin seemed to be on the pinker side, it was roughed up with scars and calloused in certain areas. You noticed he had pig ears poking out his crown. Is he a king of sorts? Wait, that reminds you of someome... Oh! The king of course!

Ah yes, the king. You quite missed him actually, he was playful and let you use his cane- sword to get a key. But he didn't know about that part. You wonder if he's doing alright right know, the asylum sucks. And the shadow thing next to him said weird things to. Who exactly is the holy man? Why'd the shadow say he took off his clothes?

You couldn't dwell on it to much as you got distracted by the approaching man.

He reached out his hand to stop the winged male. “Phil-”

But the man named ‘Phil’ interrupted the crowned male by putting up his hand. He stopped his hand and let it limp to his side.

“It’s alright Tech, they seem harmless.” ‘Phil’ reassured, though ‘Tech’ nodded his head with a stern expression. There was still hesitance in his sharp red eyes.

‘Phil’ took the same hand he put up and reached it out to you. A soft and kind look in his eyes, you could’ve gotten lost in them if you weren’t careful.

“You alright there kid?” He asked, crouching down to meet your height from where you sat.

“Y-yeah, I think so…” You winced, your throat was hoarse and dry. You peered at ‘Phil’ as he took out this glass bottle with what you assumed was water.

He handed you the fragile bottle, he saw the look of hesitance in your childlike eyes. But something about them set off alarms in his head, they were dull. There’s nothing wrong with that of course! But they were too dull, at least for a mere kid.

He recognized a glint of trauma in your (Eye Shape) eyes, those beautiful (E/C) orbs had seen something they shouldn’t have. Haven’t they?

“Don’t worry mate, it’s fresh water.” He examined the way you handled the cork, you were inexperienced. He could tell you’ve never needed to do it, but why? It’s really the only way so far to keep water with you.

Did you not have any?

While he was lost in thought, you just had noticed he had an accent of sorts. Nothing wrong with it, you've just never heard of someone with it.

(^ Ignore that if you are british)

While the winged male was off in his own world the piglin hybrid watched as you sniffed the clear liquid in suspicion before letting your cat smell it as if you were looking for their approval.

To his surprise they did give it to you, the black cat nodded it’s head and squeaked out a meow. That strangely sounded like a yes- but he dismissed the thought. Probably was just the voices fucking with him.

You gulped down the water as if you hadn’t had any for months.

‘Why tf are they so desperate-’ ‘lowkey kinda concerned lmao’ ‘they look like they’d be an orphan tho’ ‘lmao maybe’ ‘idc about the kid, i want the cat’ ‘absolutely-’ ‘Nah fuck the cat, im allergic.’ ‘lol and?’ 'PFT ANY ASKERS???'

Those were all different voices speaking and overlapping each other.

Technoblade sighed as he glanced at his father, he knew him on the back of his hand. He let him be and slowly walked next to Phil and kneeled down.

“What’s your name kid?” he asked, taking the empty bottle you had handed him. “(Y/n), (Y/n) (L/n)/Bow.” You bluntly answered, looking at him in the eyes. He noticed how bloodshot they were, I mean you did cry not even 5 minutes ago.

"What's yours?" You questioned tilting your head a bit in the process.

Unbeknownst to you, some voices in a certain someone's head were losing their shit, squealing and chanting ‘protecc tiny bean’ over and over again.

"The name's Technoblade, but you can call me Techno." Strange name in your book but your not the one to judge. You simply nodded your head in acknowledgement.

"That guy is Philza, but you can call him Phil." He pointed his thumb to the unfocused man. Technoblade or Techno- cleared his throat.

“You’ve got somewhere to stay? Where are your parents?” “Why can’t you mind your business?”

Techno’s eyes twitched in annoyance and his teeth clenched to hold back any crude words.

Although he noticed the flash of pain in those dull (E/C) orbs of the mentions of your parents.

He sighed once again, something you noticed he did a lot. At least, so far he did.

“Look kid, do you have a place to stay or not?”

And that's how you ended up meeting your new family. . . <3

I may include a taglist if anyone's up to be tagged lmao

#mcyt x reader #platonic x reader #tommy innit x y/n #technoblade x reader #philza x reader #wilbur x reader #sleepy bois inc x reader #sbi x reader #fluff #mcyt #fran bow #franbow!reader #reader as fran bow #mr. midnight #cat #tiny bit of angst #only if you squint tho

[ssa-babygirl]

Out of my League [Part 5]

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Single mom!Reader

Word count: 4.1k

Summary: A night out with the team leaves you and Spencer with so much unsaid, despite how much he spills to you while you’re drunk and half asleep. 

Warning(s): Mentions of past addiction, alcohol consumption, some swear words, mentions of past bullying, EXTREME PINING

Author’s Note: I told yall this chapter wouldn’t take 10 years. just like... a week and a half. I promise I’ll do better lmao also enjoy the fluff cuz uh,, yall are gonna hate me next chapter oops

[Previous Part] [Series Masterlist]

Washington D.C., 2009

(Reader POV)

Rossi’s dinner party would not be the last time Spencer had to drive your drunk ass home. It happened two or three in the two years since that night. Dave meant it when he said you were one of them. Whenever they went out for drinks after a case, you would get a text from one of the girls asking if you wanted to come. Your mom living a few blocks away from you was helpful because you just needed to drop Jamie off and head over to O’Keefe’s. You very rarely went overboard because you normally had to drive home, but tonight was not one of those nights.

The team had just gotten back from a local case in Bethesda, so Emily offered to pick you up on her way back. Hotch gave them all the rest of the night off after they made the arrest, but Spencer, always the workaholic, still wanted to finish up his paperwork before going out. 

Your mom came to get Jamie and take him back to her house, so you were free to get all dressed up for a night on the town with your friends. You didn’t want to look too formal since most of them were still going to be in their work clothes, so you got out a cute green button-down blouse and tucked it into some high-waisted jeans. You put on your favorite locket and let your hair down. You went with a light makeup look, just brows, cheeks, and lashes. You were all set by the time Emily pulled up in front of your place. You strapped up your wedges and grabbed your purse, heading out the door, excited to see everyone after they’d been so busy.

“Hey! You look nice!”

“And you’re not so bad for fresh off a crime scene.”

“Should’ve seen me catch the guy, I looked amazing.”

“I’m sure you did, Em.”

Emily told you about the case, or rather just the ending. You only liked to hear her stories when they had happy endings. This one was pleasant enough, but you had a feeling that she was leaving some details out since it was apparently so bad that even Spencer would be tagging along for drinks.

When you got to the bar, Derek and Penelope were already sitting at a booth in the back with Aaron and Dave. Penelope hopped up from her seat to give you a hug as soon as you approached the table. 

“Hey, there she is,” Morgan smiled over his beer.

“Reid’s not driving tonight?” Aaron asked.

“He texted me, he’s on his way, he wanted to finish his paperwork back at the precinct.” 

“So what I’m hearing is you finally have time to tell us stories about Reid in high school,” Dave said with a smirk.

“No, come on, he’ll kill me,” you settled into the booth.

Emily snorted, “I’d be surprised if he even found it in him to be mad at you.”

“Oh, it’s happened before.” Your face scrunched up at the memory of what happened that day on the football field.

“Really?” Penelope seemed shocked.

“Yeah I’d… Rather not talk about it.” You didn’t know if Spencer had told the team about the Alexa Lisbon incident, so you didn’t want to talk about how he had been so angry with you for babying him. 

“Oh, come on, the kid was in love with you,” Derek prodded, “What’d you do?”

You elected to ignore his comment, “No, it was just stupid.” You could still talk about Kyle, though. The team knew the story of how you’d met Spencer, they just didn’t know about how upset he was when he found out you got back together with Kyle just a few months after you dumped him.

“We love hearing about the stupid things you did!” Garcia squealed.

You stared at the table and fiddled with a napkin to avoid eye contact as you said, “I dated one of his bullies.”

Dave was the first to break the silence, “But Reid said you broke up with him when you found out.”

You bit your lip and hesitated before owning up to it, “Did he tell you that Kyle is Jamie’s dad?”

Emily gasped, “No way!”

“We barely spoke outside of tutoring after that between him being scared of Kyle and basketball season. We were both busy with our teams.”

“Reid played basketball?” Aaron asked, amused.

“He was the coach.” You managed to crack a slight smile, “Budget cuts. But, hey, it was for the best, that was our best season in years.”

“Hard to believe he could focus on strategy with you cheering from the sidelines.” Derek wiggled his eyebrows and took another sip of his beer.

You were quick to change the subject, “So is JJ coming?”

Emily shook her head, “She went home after the case cuz she missed Henry.”

“Oh that boy is the sweetest little thing, I miss when Jamie was that little.”

Aaron sipped his whiskey, “How old is he again?”

“Ten. I’m old, don’t remind me, it’s fucking me up.”

“Ah! Language, bella.”

“Sorry Dave. But speaking of getting effed up, I’ll go get the next round.” You stood and took everyone’s drink orders: Dave and Aaron were sharing an expensive bottle that Dave had already paid for, Emily wanted a martini, Derek just asked for another beer, while Penelope ordered the most elaborate cocktail on the menu, but luckily it was her usual, so you had it pretty much memorized by now. 

You strolled up to the bar and gave the bartender the order, which he got right on. He started with giving you Derek’s beer, then Em’s martini, then your rum and coke, before getting to work on Penelope’s ridiculously fruity drink. An older man stalked into your field of view with a beer in his hand, grinning dumbly. 

“What’s a girl like you doing in a place like this?”

You snorted, “Has that line ever worked?”

“Truth be told, I’ve never used it.”

“Well you don’t have a great success rate right now, bud.” You looked over the man’s shoulder and made eye contact with Penelope, who turned to Derek and gave him a heads up.

“Well let me buy you a drink, maybe it’ll work better the second time around.”

“Oh, no, thank y—”

“No, come on, what’s one drink?”

You grabbed the tray with everyone’s drinks and started to pass him, “I should really get back to my friends.”

“Hey, I won’t keep you long,” He caught you by the arm and the last thing you saw before he turned you to face him again was Penelope leaping up from her seat to let Derek through, “what are you drinking?”

“Babygirl, how long does a beer take?” Derek stepped up behind you and placed a delicate hand on the small of your back, “This guy bothering you, doll?”

The man dropped his hand from your arm, “We were just talking.”

“Really? ‘Cuz to me it seems like you were trying to put the moves on my girl.”

“Babe, it’s fine,” you caught on quickly, placing a hand on Derek’s chest to keep up the ruse of holding him back, “I’m just waiting for Pen’s drink.”

“Get the hell out of here, man.” Derek glares and the other man leaves reluctantly. “You okay?”

You nodded, “Thank you.”

“Hey, no problem, sweetheart.” He withdrew his hand from the small of your back, “Wouldn’t want Pretty Boy to get jealous.”

You felt your face heat up as your eyebrows knit together, feigning confusion.

“Oh, come on, Y/N, you can’t seriously tell me you don’t see it.”

You played dumb, “See what?”

He sips his beer, “You don’t need to be a profiler to see the way he looks at you, Y/N.”

“Oh, god, first my mother, now you too?”

“I’m serious, I’ve only seen him like this one other time.”

“When?”

“On a case a few years ago. There was this actress we were helping out, Lila Archer.”

“Lila Archer? The Lila Archer?”

“Yeah, she had a little crush on Reid for a bit. They made out once.”

“They what?”

He laughed, “What’re ya jealous?”

“No!” Maybe? “It just seems so unprofessional, I wouldn’t have pegged him for a guy who would--”

“Hook up with a movie star? Yeah, I didn’t think so either. It didn’t work out with them, obviously, he said she only felt that way about him because he saved her life.”

“What does this have to do with me?”

“Ever thought about how you protecting him his whole life may have had a similar effect?”

“Showing him basic human decency didn’t make him fall in love with me, Derek.”

“No, but saving his life did.”

“What do you mean?”

“I think that’s more of a question for Pretty Boy himself.” Derek nodded his chin over your shoulder. You followed his gaze and saw Spencer coming up behind you, grinning as he neared the bar.

“Hey.”

“Hey, haircut! Lookin’ good!” Your fingers laced through his shaggy locks and messed up his new boy band-esque style.

 A faint blush spread across his cheeks as he fixed his hair, “T-Thanks.”

“When you lovebirds feel like talking to the rest of us, I’ll be at the table with the rest of the team.”

You roll your eyes and turn back to the lanky boy next to you, “Lemme buy you a drink, Spence.” 

“Oh, no thank you. I’m driving. And also did you know--”

“You can just say you don’t want it.”

“No, I do. That’s the problem.”

Your face contorted with confusion until it suddenly clicked, “Oh… Has that ever been a problem for you before?”

“Not anymore, and not alcohol, but yeah.”

“Wait, Spence, why didn’t you tell me? I-I’m not mad, it’s your choice, obviously, but I could have helped.”

“You did.”

“I did?”

“Remember that one time I was too sick to talk on our Saturday call?”

“Yeah?”

“I had just gotten back from a case in New Orleans. Remember Ethan from school?”

You nodded, holding onto every word.

“He’s in a jazz band down there now. He talked me into getting help. When you called, I was at the lowest point of withdrawals, shaking so hard I couldn’t sleep, and completely alone. I almost didn’t pick up, but I knew you wouldn’t accept that,” he laughed nervously, “and when I heard your voice…”

He trailed off, finally meeting your eyes.

“When I said I wasn’t feeling well, you said ‘I’m putting Jamie down for the night, wanna hear his bedtime story?’”

You both found yourselves smiling slightly at the memory. 

“Not once, during any book I’ve read, had I fallen asleep so easily as I did when you read me The Very Hungry Caterpillar.”

He took a deep breath, almost shuddering, “It was the first time I slept without nightmares since Tobias Hankle.”

You remembered that name. He’d come up in conversations from time to time but you never heard anything about his case. He was always a touchy subject for the team, and now you knew why.

“How long ago was this?”

“Almost three years ago.” He didn’t even have to think about it.

“Spence, you could have told me. You can tell me anything.”

“Anything?” He gulped.

You reached for his hand on the bar and felt it tense under your touch. You’d think after how long you’d known him his touch aversion wouldn’t be an issue with you anymore, but apparently not. Feeling your cheeks heat up, you withdrew your hand as if you burnt your hand on a hot stove and let out an awkward scoff, turning away to look back at your friends, who tried and failed miserably at making it look like they weren’t watching you and Spencer. 

“We should…”

“Yeah… w-we should.” Spencer passed you and sat down next to Derek in the booth, leaving you in your usual spot next to Emily with your first of many drinks that night.

            3 Hours Later

(Spencer’s POV)

I helped her into my car and buckled her up after she couldn’t find the seatbelt. When I got into the driver’s seat, I glanced at her to see if she was still conscious, only to see her dopey smile directed at me.

“What?” I laughed nervously.

“Nothing,” she slurred, dragging out the ‘ing’ and turning her head towards the window.

“You okay?”

She nodded and leaned her head against the glass as I pulled out of the parking lot. She was quiet for the most part during the drive, so I assumed she was asleep, so imagine my shock when she piped up as soon as I parked in front of her place.

“Can you walk me in?” she asked as if I could say no to her.

“Of course.” I was going to regardless. I helped her out of the car and she stood on wobbly legs. She groaned and looked at her feet. 

“Hold this.” She shoved her purse into my arms and placed a hand on my shoulder and hopped up to take off one of her heels, tossing it onto her seat before repeating her actions on her other shoe. She grabbed the pair and marched up the path to her front door. I trailed close behind, just in case she stumbled, which she did. 

She fumbled for her key when she suddenly remembered that I had her purse. I dug through the pockets and fished it out, tossing it to her once I got close enough. She instantly giggled as soon as I met her eyes.

“What’s so funny now?”

“Nothing, Spence,” she failed to stifle a smile as she tried to open the door, “You have nothing to worry about.”

I stepped in beside her, “Well you’ve been awfully quiet since we left and now you’re laughing at me!”

“I’m just thinking!”

“That can’t be good,” I joked, prompting her to lightly slap my arm, “Kidding! What are you thinking about?”

“Don’t worry about it!”

“No, now I’m curious!”

“Just something stupid Derek said before you came tonight.”

“Oh jeez, now I have to know.” She climbed up the staircase and down the hallway in front of her bedroom. She twisted the knob and pushed open the door. I stepped in after her and placed her purse down on the dresser. She flopped down on the bed, shuffling under the covers, not even bothering to change out of the clothes she wore to the bar. I grinned down at her. She looked like an angel snuggled up in the sheets.

“Comfy?”

“Very.”

“Good. Call me if you need anything, Y/N,” I started to walk towards the door.

“Did you have a crush on me in high school?”

I paused.

“W-Where’d you get that from?” Nice job, genius, that doesn’t sound guilty at all.

“That’s what Derek said.” She was now sitting up in bed.

Okay, but how did he know that?

“How did this come up exactly?”

She explained how the team was trying to get her to tell them embarrassing stories about me as a kid (sidenote: not cool, guys) and my dear old friend Kyle came up. She said that Morgan brought up transference, where a person experiences something traumatic and associates their “hero” with safety and feelings of relief after being helped.

“He said one girl you helped in a case had feelings for you and the way you explained transference to Derek sounded like you were speaking from experience.”

Great. This is what I get for only having friends on the team. My best guy friend is also a profiler who can read me like a book. Awesome.

I let out a deep sigh and sat down in the chair next to her bed, “I was.”

“Speaking from experience?”

“Yeah. Because that’s where it all started for me. A pretty girl told off one of my bullies and showed me basic human decency--”

“Aw, Spence, you thought I was pretty?” She teased, eliciting a chuckle from me.

“Of course I did. Y/N, you were the head cheerleader that came to me for help with chemistry and tousled my hair and bought me McDonald’s whenever our study sessions ran late. To twelve-year-old Spencer you were this perfect, unattainable princess--”

“Princess?” She giggled and it was the most beautiful sound I’d ever heard, “I like that.”

“Yep.” I laughed with her, “A princess who lived in a beautiful castle with posters on the walls and sparkly beads on the curtains and Doctor Who playing on the TV and a mom that always invited me to stay for dinner and I’m rambling again but that’s perfectly fine with you because you actually cared about what I had to say, especially when I would talk about Shakespeare because A Midsummer Night’s Dream was your favorite assigned reading and--” I stopped myself before it slipped out. 

I love you. I’ve said it a million times to her in a million different ways but I knew at that moment that if I said the actual words that I wouldn’t be able to take them back, not that I would ever want to, I just want her to be present when I told her the first time. If I said it now it would be the first time she’d hear it from me and she wouldn’t even remember it when she woke up.

“And what?” She still smiled at me so brightly that the dimly lit room was lit up by the gleam in her eyes.

I smiled back, “You’re my best friend.”

Her grin somehow grew wider, her eyes scrunching up, but the sparkle was still there, “You’re my best friend too.”

If I hadn’t already decided against it, I would have said it then. I would have repeated those words over and over again until the words lost all meaning, only they never would because they felt like they meant the world to me. But I wouldn’t let myself start. Instead, I just looked at her like she was the moon and stars and all the space in between and said, “Goodnight, Y/N.”

“Spence, wait,” she murmured, further burying herself in her covers.

“What now?” I whined, the smile still present on my face.

“I think you’re pretty too.” 

It had never been harder for me to resist the urge to kiss her than in that moment. Every fiber of my being screamed to sit back down, lean over her pillow, take her face in my hands, and crash my lips to hers. And for a split second, I thought I would. I almost did. I almost gave myself everything I had ever wanted for sixteen years, four months, and eleven days, but I couldn’t.

“And I think you’re drunk.”

“Spencer Reid!” She squealed, “Just cuz I’m drunk does not mean that you aren’t pretty!”

“Oh really?”

“Yep! ‘Cuz guess what, genius?”

“What?”

“I think you’re pretty when I’m sober, too.”

If I didn’t know any better I’d say she was trying to drive me insane. And you know what?

It was working.

While I was lost in my thoughts, no doubt staring at her, she let out a tiny yawn and snuggled deeper into her pillow. A piece of hair fell in front of her eyes, hooded yet still shining. I brushed the hair out of her face and told her to get some rest.

“Good idea. I’m sleepy,” she dragged out the e and yawned again, “Goodnight, Pretty Boy.”

“Goodnight, princess.” I chuckled softly. My fingers still lingered just behind her ear, so I stroked her hair once more and pressed a small kiss to her forehead once I was sure she was asleep. Her cheeks twitched in a barely conscious smile, making me grateful for my eidetic memory again. I went to the kitchen and took a glass from the cabinet, filling it up in the sink and placing it on the nightstand with some aspirin.

I took a sheet of some stationery and scrawled out a note for her in the morning:

Make sure you stay hydrated. There’s more aspirin in your cabinet but wait a few hours to take it. Call me if you need anything. -S.R.

            The Next Morning

(Reader’s POV)

The coffee machine made too much noise. Your head was pounding despite the fact you took an aspirin a few minutes ago. Now you played the waiting game, hoping it would kick in soon. When the pot was finally done, you poured yourself a cup, hoping it would help wake you up. You normally wouldn’t drink coffee this late, but you needed it. Just as you took your first sip, your mom came through the front door with Jamie in tow carrying his pajamas in a shopping bag. He said good morning to you and ran upstairs to his room.

“Did you just wake up?” 

“Yes.”

“Y/N, it’s almost noon.” You could hear the judgment in her voice.

You took a sip of coffee, “It’s 11:05.”

“I take it you had fun at O’Keefe’s last night?”

“Yeah,” you grumbled, rubbing your eyes.

“How’d you get home?”

“Spence drove me.”

Her eyes widened, excited. She lowered her voice to ask, “Is he still here?”

“Mom!” You whisper-yelled.

“I was just checking!”

“No, he’s not, he dropped me off and went home.” You decided to leave out the whole “putting you to bed” part.

“How’s your hangover?”

“Better with aspirin.”

“Have you been drinking water?”

“A little,” you lied.

“No more coffee until you finish a glass.” She took your mug and dumped its contents down the drain.

“Wh—” You start, “Mom, I’m not a kid.”

“Just drink your damn water.”

“Jesus,” you groan, still making your way to the stairs and heading up to your room, where your water had been put on your nightstand the night before. Under the glass was a note that you didn’t notice when you first woke up. You recognized the chicken scratch handwriting immediately: Spencer.

“Make sure you stay hydrated. There’s more aspirin in your cabinet but wait a few hours to take it. Call me if you need anything. -S.R.”

You smiled as you read the words over and over. You put the note down and took a sip from the glass. You reached over to your phone on the nightstand and dialed his number. It rang twice before Spencer’s voice crackled over the speaker, “Hey, how’re you feeling?”

“Better, thank you.”

“Of course. Did you drink the water I gave you last night?”

“Some of it.”

“Good, did you eat?”

“No.”

“I’m going on my lunch break in a bit, wanna meet up?”

Your heart fluttered at the offer, a small grin tugging at your lips. You nodded, unable to find words enthusiastic enough to express how much you’d like that, before settling on “Yeah! Sounds good!”

“Perfect! There’s a new thai place downtown I’ve been meaning to check out, how about there?”

“Sure! I’ll meet you at Quantico?”

“See you then!”

“Bye,” you all but sighed into the receiver before snapping out of it. You always tried to keep that part of you beneath the surface, but it wasn’t as easy as it used to be. You didn’t remember much from last night, but you did remember calling him pretty boy and making him blush. You remember him tucking you in and calling you princess and brushing your hair out of your eyes. You remembered how your chest swelled with light as he pressed his lips to your forehead, and the soft chuckle he let out seeing you smile against your pillow. 

You hopped in the shower and got dressed, fixing yourself just enough to pass for a functioning adult who did not get sloppy drunk in front of her best friend’s coworkers last night. You told your mom you were going out for lunch, and she happily agreed to babysit for a few hours while you were with Spencer. 

“Have fun on your date!”

“Not a date!” You almost couldn’t tell who you were talking to, her or you.

You got to Quantico about a half-hour later and were met by Dave in the bullpen.

“Oh, look who’s joined the land of the living!”

“Oh, come on, I wasn’t that bad last night. I could have been Penelope.”

“That is true, bella, but it was still a Thursday,” Dave chuckled, “The kid’s in Aaron’s office, he’ll be out in a sec.”

“Thank you,” you said and walked over to Spencer’s desk, sitting down in his chair and making small talk with Emily while you waited. A few minutes later, you saw him walk out of the office, eyes immediately landing on you.

Taglist~~~

Lmk if you wanna be added! Some names didn’t work so if you don’t see your name as a tag just dm me a url and I’ll try to fix it

@lawnmoa @ellvswriting @baby-pogue @purelyprentiss @confused-and-really-hungry @thatsonezesty13 @deni-gonzalez​ @irjuejjsaa @randomfandomshitposts @bisoner @moonstarrnghtsky @smurfflynn @eldahae @t0xicllama @undeniablyyou @staplernpaper @theweirdobella @sammypotato67 @k-k0129 @helloniallslovelies @dazzlingnights @uhuhuh @booksarekindaneat @crimeshowtrash @carlgrxmes​ @collectiveuniverses​ @annesauriol​

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid smut #spencer reid #mgg smut #mgg x reader #mgg imagine #mgg fanfiction #mgg #cm imagine #cm fan fiction #CM #criminal minds imagine #Criminal Minds Reid #Criminal Minds Fanfiction #Criminal Minds

[catwithangerissues]

Sweet by Cigarettes after Sex - Sakusa Kiyoomi

🌱This is another scenario based song fic😌 let me know what you think, please! I think I peaked with that Yachi drabble lmao. This is for a request that was sent to @sunalma ,but fit under my prompt so she sent it on over to me :)

“Watching the video that you sent me

The one where you're showering with wet hair dripping

You know that I'm obsessed with your body

But it's the way you smile that does it for me”

You were sat on the rooftop of your home, the chilly night shingles and wind nipping at your uncovered face. You only wore the hoodie Omi had given you, knowing you’d get cold at the most random times, and a pair of your own old joggers.

With your feet dangling off, you sat close to the edge, you had only one earbud in at the time, and were peacefully humming to the tune you’d been playing basically on repeat the past few days. It was from the playlist you’d made many months ago for when you weren’t feeling well, and with the gray blue and purples clouding the early night sky, you thought it was quite fitting.

“It's so sweet, knowing that you love me

Though we don't need to say it to each other, sweet

Knowing that I love you, and running my fingers through your hair

It's so sweet”

You came up here to get some fresh air, the open window beneath you allowing the bitter wind to seep into your bedroom. You hadn’t been feeling well, and you weren’t sure whether it was just an off day or what.

You knew your sweet boyfriend Omi had been worried about you all day, he had practice so he wasn’t able to spend as much time with you as either of you would’ve liked, but he texted you every chance he could to ask how you were doing and to make sure you’d been taking care of yourself until he got home, he knew you had a habit of neglecting your needs when you felt bad. He felt guilty for leaving this morning, all the more reason why he caught himself cursing under his breath when he fumbled with his keys to open your shared front door.

He opened the door expecting to be hit with a wave of warmth from the house, but once he realized it was only slightly colder outside than it was indoors, he knew exactly where you’d run off too.

He always knew you preferred the rooftop when you weren’t doing well. You had mentioned many times that you liked the scenery up there; the lights from the city, the different vivid colors swirling within the sky and clouds, and the ambient sounds from your street- like the neighborhood cats pestering one another about their territory. Truth be told, he didn’t mind joining you up there, he could agree with you that it was rather peaceful and he certainly didn’t mind being in your company when you two escaped to your little space away from normal life.

He desperately wanted to bask in a hot shower after such a long day of practice, but he wanted nothing more than to make sure you were doing okay before you both turned the lights out for the night.

He made his way to your shared bedroom, only reaffirming the answer to his mental question as to why the house was so cold moments ago once he saw the open window. It felt routine at this point, as odd as it sounded, to climb through that window and up onto the roof. The first few times you asked him to join you, he was put off by the offer, and usually gave you snarky comment about how filthy it was, but he slowly began to join you more and more, to the point where it felt normal now. He still didn’t enjoy the filth, though.

“Watching the video where you're lying

In your red lingerie ten times nightly

You know I think your skin's the perfect color

But it's always your eyes that pull me under”

He peered over the edge of the shingles at your laying form, eyes closed and hair gently blowing onto your soft cheeks. He could tell you were cold from the goosebumps that covered your body, so he made a mental note to keep the house extra cozy tonight.

You hadn’t heard him climb up next to you, until you felt his fingertips gently ghost over your cheek and brushing your hair away. You would’ve been alarmed, had you not immediately recognized the gesture; Omi was always so gentle when touching you in any way, like you could break into shattered glass if he wasn’t careful.

You opened your eyes slowly to see a small smile on your longtime boyfriends face, though you could easily pick up on the hints of exhaustion and concern beneath his dark eyes. Reaching up to grasp his proportionally much larger hand, you lay it gently flush against your cheek, basking in the warmth of his skin as you nuzzled further into his touch. He couldn’t help but smile wider at your gesture.

After getting comfortable, sitting up next to one another, your head laid casually on his shoulder and his arm around you, you two spent what felt like forever talking. About his day, your day, how you were both feeling, and otherwise. You could feel your heart swell and sink simultaneously at his worry for you, you wanted nothing more than to bring a smile to his face, but you greatly appreciated all the love and care he had for you. He pet your hair lightly as you continued to rant, offering his occasional two cents of advice.

It was comforting, and you found yourself slowly feeling better as he continued to spend time with you. About the time he saw your eyes drifting closed again, he decided to bring you in.

“It's so sweet, knowing that you love me

Though we don't need to say it to each other, sweet

Knowing that I love you, and running my fingers through your hair

It's so sweet”

After helping you back into your bedroom, he quickly went to turn up the thermostat to heat the now icy indoor air. You felt a large pair of arms wrap around your waist, pulling you as close as possible to his chest. He nuzzled into your shoulder, mumbling about throwing the towels in the dryer to be warm for you once you got done showering. You hadn’t noticed he slipped into the bathroom behind you to prepare it for you, but you felt woozy with appreciation and adoration at that moment. Peppering his face lightly with your kisses of approval as payment, you both found yourselves smiling wide at the other after pulling apart.

After a steamy shower, you felt newer, and the warmth of the previously mentioned towels definitely helped in improving your mood. Omi had run off to the guest bathroom to clean up himself in the meantime, wanting to give you space if you needed any, and using it as an excuse to prepare a few more surprises for you, as he always knew you took longer showers than he did.

He had taken the time to bring a few extra blankets into your bedroom, along with your favorite comfort movies and some of those snacks he’d picked up on the way home that he knew you loved, you always said they were your favorite but he knew that changed basically each week.

He laid out some pajamas for you, including one of his own sweatshirts, the same one you said was your favorite on him so he wore it more often from that point forward.

The house had begun to warm up, and he padded his way to the kitchen to make you some hot tea, figuring you’d spent quite a bit of time in the chilly air outside even before you’d spent an hour up there with him.

“And I will gladly break it

I will gladly break my heart for you

And I will gladly break it

I will gladly break my heart for you

And I will gladly break it

I will gladly break my heart for you

And I will gladly break it

I will gladly break my heart for you

It's so sweet, knowing that you love me

Though we don't need to say it to each other, sweet

Knowing that I love you, and running my fingers through your hair

It's so sweet”

After bringing back the tea to set on your side of the beds nightstand, the steam from the open bathroom door and missing clothes he’d laid out for you gave it away that you’d finished your shower. Once you emerged, he couldn’t help but think about how much cuter that sweatshirt looked on you than he ever thought it did on him, but he wouldn’t tell you that now. You smiled at the sweet gestures your boyfriend had done for you, even after such a long day of intense practice. He really never failed to bring a smile to your face, and this was no different.

Bringing him into your tight embrace and falling back onto the bed, his head resting on your chest and muscular arms wrapped around your torso, your arms around his neck and shoulders, you let out a sigh and a sweet hum. His weight on top of yours was comforting, and his black curls smelled nicely of his shampoo. He nuzzled further into your touch, mumbling a question you didn’t really catch about having an impromptu movie night and if you’d like a massage, also letting you know he’d be around the house all day tomorrow, he’d texted the teams groupchat to let them know he would be missing practice. You smiled wide at his words, excited to spend a full day with the man you loved so much.

Some people would consider Sakusa Kiyoomi a cold person, one who wasn’t fond of people nor someone who could be very affectionate. But in that moment, you knew more than ever how wrong they were.

✨Tag List: @sunalma @toworuu

🌱Let me know what you thought of comforting Omi, he’s one of my favs to write for. Hope you liked it! <3

#weeklypromptevent #haikyu #haikyuu #haikyuu oneshot #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu!! #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu matchup #haikyuu matchups #haikyuu headcanons #haikyuu sakusa #sakusa kiyoomi x reader #hq sakusa #kiyoomi is my husband and i love him #kiyoomi fluff #sakusa fluff #sakusa headcanons

[hybridfanfiction]

Owner Training - 9

- Lonely Kitten - 

If there was anything that made you hate having to get up at the crack of dawn to go to work besides the fact that you were actually going to work , it was the sight that greeted you when you went to say your goodbyes for the day.

Yoongi was curled up on the right side of the bed, the blankets pulled up so much you could barely see his face. He looked so comfortable and cozy, and you wanted nothing more than to climb back into bed and let his soft purrs lull you back to sleep.

Yoongi suddenly does that weird snore/snort combo he does when he’s jolted from sleep, and he turns to the other side, now facing the doorway. His eyes are still closed but your heart flutters a little when he tugs some blankets back like he’d worried he’d pulled them off of you.

You grin and walk up to him, bending over to press a small kiss to his forehead. He cracks one eye open and looks up at you sleepily.

“Work?” he mumbles, his voice adorably slurred.

“Yeah, sweetheart. I’ll see you later, kay?”

He hums and smacks his lips. “Don’t stay too late. You’ve been working too much.”

He had a point. You’ve already worked nine days straight this week and you were going crazy.

“I won’t. Today should be an easy day.”

How he manages to project so much skepticism with just one eye is a mystery.

“Promise?”

“Sure, baby. I promise. Love you.”

“Love,” is all he manages to mumble before he falls back asleep.

****

The thing about your job is that...you hate it. You’d gone into this job expecting to be able to make a difference. That you’d find abandoned kids great homes, bring families together, or...you didn’t even know. It was a lot of rainbows and unicorns. The reality of it was that you saw a lot of kids being given back to abusive homes because their dad passed an anger management class, only to be back in the system six months later. Parents would take each other to court over visitation rights, and only relent when they received even more money from the other. And those were just some of the more mild issues. Basically, this job had opened your eyes to the fact that people were monsters.

And on top of the actual work, was the fact that your seniors and boss made your life a hell. Instead of treating you with the respect due to you as a fellow lawyer with the same shiny degrees as them, they instead handed their work off on you or made you do menial tasks like you were just another paralegal ( NOT to shit on paralegals either - their job was hella hard too).

You didn’t even have your own office! You were just another desk in the sea of paralegals and secretaries. When you’d brought it up at your last review, you’d been told it was because you were the new hire and you had to work your way up. Well, you’d been working here for several years now, and the hotshot young guy straight out of Yale that they’d hired a year ago already had a private office and his own secretary.

Literally, the only thing keeping you going these days was the fact that you needed the money and you didn’t know what else to do. At least you had Yoongi waiting for you at home to look forward to.

“L/N, I’m going to need your help with these pleadings. Need them done for tomorrow. Thanks,” Johnson, one of the lawyers you hated the most, threw a pack of client interview notes on your desk and struts off without even giving you a chance to reply.

You sigh and look at the packet, debating setting them on fire and walking out of the building like a boss. But then he’d just complain to the big boss, who would call you in and give you a talking to. It all seemed like too much of a hassle. (You knew you were being bullied for being the only female lawyer here - it was ridiculous and sexist. Like, hello? Is this 1924? No.)

You’d get out of here eventually. Somehow. For now, you simply pull the packets closer and get to work.

Yoongi is going to kill you.

****

When you arrive home and finally kick off your heels with a happy sigh, it suddenly hits you that your apartment is silent. No TV, no booming rap music, not even the blessed sounds of cooking that your empty stomach had been looking forward to.

“Yoongi?”

“Nice of you to join us.”

You jump as he mumbles the words, finally pinpointing him in the corner of the dining room. He’s lounging in one of the chairs with his arms folded, his eyes screaming his disappointment.

“I know I’m late, I’m sorry.”

“Late, she says. It’s past midnight,” he scoffs.

“I know! I was going to leave earlier but I got stuck with some extra work.”

“You promised.”

His tone hurts you and you feel horrible.

He reaches out his hand, looking you dead in the eye...and pushes your vase of wildflowers right onto the floor.

The glasses crashes everywhere and he merely sits back and looks at the mess with a slight smirk.

“What the fuck, Yoongi?”

He shrugs. “It was in my way.”

“Why do you... aw hell ,” you whisper, feeling tears well in your eyes.

Suddenly, he leans foreword, looking at you with alarm. “Why the fuck are you crying? No, wait , stop that.”

“I’m so so-sorry,” you hiccup, as your tears turn to wails. “I’m a horrible person and a horrible girlfriend. I can’t do anything right. I’m a failure.”

Yoongi rushes to you and crouches down, pulling you into his chest.

“No, you’re amazing. The best. I’m just throwing a tantrum like a baby because I miss you. I’m sorry, I’ll be better,” he croons, petting your back frantically in an attempt to comfort you.

You lean into his touch and let yourself cry until chest and throat throb in pain too much to continue. Yoongi presses a kiss to your forehead.

“Better?” me mutters, and you nod your head, finally looking up at him. His eyes are red too, with tear tracks down his cheek. You swipe at them and he kisses your hand.

“Sorry,” you whisper hoarsely, and he shakes his head.

“No need. I’m sorry I was being a brat.”

“You have a point though. I’m never home.”

“Because you’re literally working to take care of us.”

“Yeah, but...even I know that they are working me too much. I’ve never been so stressed in my life, Yoongi. And today I had to literally watch some kid cry and be torn away from the foster family that’s been raising him since he was two weeks old and be given to his druggie mother who he’s seen once in three years. I just...how is that okay?”

“It’s not. Not everyone has as big a heart as you, love.”

You grunt and relax into his touch as he pets your hair soothingly.

“If you could find something else, what would you do?”

You consider the question. “I’m not sure. I think there’s still a part of me that desires to help and make a difference, but then there’s the me that’s been at this for awhile that isn’t sure that’s realistic. I’d still work in law, but...I don’t know. I don’t know who would actually need me.”

He hums and tilts your head up. “Want some tea?”

“Yes please,” you smile softly as he stands up and reaches out a hand to help you up.

He peeks sheepishly at the glass and gestures for you to go sit on the couch.

“I’ll clean it up”

“Seriously though, Yoongi. My vase?”

“Honestly, I’ve been feeling the urge to push that off the table for a few days and I just used that as an excuse. I’ve also been eyeing the wine glass display, but I’ve held off since I actually use those,” he chuckled on his way to the kitchen.

“Don’t you dare. Bad Kitty.”

“Kinky,” he hums, then you hear the click of the electric kettle.

You wait in silence, exhausted after your outburst of emotion. Truthfully, it was probably long-due. A few minutes later Yoongi returns and hands you a mug full of lemon and ginger tea, blowing on his own mug as he settles in next to you.

“I had a thought,” he rumbles after taking a sip.

“Finally,” you snort, grinning when he pinches you.

“You never call in sick or go anywhere so you probably have a shit load of vacation time saved up, right?”

“Oh, yeah. I should have at least a couple weeks worth. I usually just cash out at the end of the year.”

“Take it. Let’s go on vacation. No sense killing yourself over a job you hate, and I want to spend some time with you.”

You sigh, leaning into Yoongi’s warmth. “Yeah, you’re right. Where shall we go?”

He shrugs. “Jeju? I don’t know. I don’t care as long as it’s somewhere with a nice bed and I get to see you in a bikini”

You pinch him and he laughs unapologetically.

“You know I love you right? No matter how much I’m away or if we are having some stupid fight - I love you,” you ask, your voice soft and a little shy.

He picks up your free hand and places a kiss on the back of it, squeezing it gently.

“I love you too, even when I’m being a brat or when you forget to pick up ice cream.”

“Wow, that’s deep.”

“What can I say?” he shrugs. “I’m a man of refined tastes.”

****

Notes:

Why are my cats always knocking shit off my counters?

Also, I had a few requests from people who wanted to send me fanart. You can email it to me at [email protected] or tag me on here. I’d love to see it.

I think I have a twitter made but I can't remember it right now lmao. If anyone wants that I'll try to find it later.

#bts #bts fanfic #bts scenario #hybrid!bts #hybrid!yoongi #cat hybrid!yoongi #hybrid fanfiction #fanfiction #yoongi

[threecrowsinatrenchcoat]

Paint My Spirit Gold

Dukeceit Week Day 2: Green/Yellow

Fans of the YouTubers "Deceit" and Remus "The Duke" Sanders start to suspect that maybe, just maybe, the two of them are more than simple internet pals.

AO3 Link: [here]

Word Count: 2187

Warnings: n/a

@dukeceitweek <3

-

[ID: A screenshot of a Twitter post by user @CallMeDukie. It features a watercolor-style painting of a snake. The snake appears to be made of melting chocolate, and there is a large bite taken out of its tail. Cherries and jam are leaking out of the snake at the bite wound. The snake's expression of horror is overly-exaggerated to the point of comedy. The caption reads: "liked your snake boi, @SerpenThyme. thanks for the inspo." /end ID]

- 

A notification ding cut Janus off mid-sentence. 

“Wow, someone left their cell phone on, so professional,” he said, giving the camera a dramatic eye roll. That someone was him, of course, because he was the only one in the apartment- just him and the running livestream- but that was no excuse not to be a drama queen about it. He finished wiping flour off his hands and grabbed his phone to silence it; but the notification made him pause. He flicked his eyes up toward the camera and gave a slight smirk.

“My goodness, I’m famous,” he drawled. “The Duke himself has graced little old me with some fan art.”

Most of the comments in the chat wanted him to show it, so Janus opened up Twitter to see the full post he’d been tagged in. It was a watercolor painting of the coiled-snake chocolate sculpture- lovingly named Jake by his viewers- he’d made for his YouTube video last week; it was wearing an expression of such comedic horror that Janus had to stifle a laugh. He flicked his phone screen toward the close-up camera on his counter so his viewers could see.

“How kind of you, Remus,” he said. “All of you should go scold him for what he’s done to poor Jake here.”

Most of his viewers would know he was joking- after all, they were the ones to nickname him Deceit when he provided neither a real or fake name for his online persona. They knew full well what he was like by now.

The oven timer dinged. Janus silenced his phone and set it aside.

“And our first batch of cookies is done. You know, why don’t we show the Duke some appreciation?”

-

[ID: An Instagram post by user @SerpenThyme. The photo is an artistically-framed shot of a stack of sugar cookies with green, yellow, and pink icing. Propped up against the stack is another cookie, with an intricate icing-drawing of an octopus. The photo appears to have been color corrected to have high contrast, low saturation, and a dark vignette at the edges. The Instagram user @OctoDukie is tagged. No caption. /end ID]

- 

“You know, I have often been accused of actually being a little old lady, what with my fondness for knitted jumpers, rocking chairs, and incredibly fucked up murder mystery books. Today I am doing nothing to dispel this accusation, by making soup.”

The studio was dark and empty aside from Remus' workspace. Everyone else had left long ago, even his own brother, which meant that it was officially ass-o'clock in the morning (or, as most people called it, somewhere between 1 and 2 a.m.) But Remus was stuck in hyperfocus, honed in on putting the last touches on a commission that he'd been putting off for weeks. It's not that it was a tough painting- once he'd gotten started, it was actually a very creatively satisfying piece- but man, executive dysfunction could go suck a dick

“French onion soup, specifically. Because while I do like to pretend I am a classy bitch, I am also, regrettably, a lazy bitch with a distaste for anything that takes longer than one bottle of wine to make.”

Remus hated working in silence. It was stifling, almost suffocating. His brain needed noise like his lungs needed air. So when the studio had grown still and silent, Remus had flipped open his laptop and queued up some YouTube videos. 

“So we have here three pounds of onions that we need to slice up, pole to pole. You’re going to cry no matter what, so if you have any memories you’ve been repressing since middle school, now is an excellent time to dredge those up.” 

And if it happened to be 90% SerpenThyme videos, well. Sue him. 

“Now the first rule of caramelizing onions: fast and sloppy is always better than slow and thorough… at least, that’s what every man I’ve ever slept with tells me.”

Remus choked and glanced over to his laptop screen just in time to catch Deceit's trademark smirk directed at the audience just for a moment. It was the deadpan delivery that always got him. Remus could barely hold onto a joke long enough to get through it without cackling mid-punchline, but this fucker could say the funniest shit like an off-hand comment. 

He wiped his hands off on his jeans (what use were clothes if you couldn't use them as paint rags?) and pulled his laptop across the table.  He typed out a quick comment, citing the timestamp of the joke, and after it was posted, he shut his laptop. 

'Cause ass-o'clock was short for "get-your-ass-home-or-I’ll-kick-it" o'clock. 

-

[ID: A screenshot of a YouTube comments section. The first comment is by user TheDuke, and reads: "10:42 wow, rude." The second comment is a reply by user SerpenThyme, and simply reads ";)" /end ID]

-

Janus plopped down on the couch with a slight groan. He didn’t need to stream today, but he really hated missing days. Besides… he was fine. Really. 

He adjusted the camera until he was happy with the framing, and then checked the settings on his streaming software. Satisfied, he started the stream, and watched as his usual viewers rolled in. 

“What do you mean I’m not in my kitchen?” Janus drawled, addressing the chat. He glanced around with an expression of faux-shock on his face. “My goodness, when did that happen?”

He chuckled, and then gestured to his surroundings. “Yes, we are in my living room today. If you must know, my closest and most trusted friend tried to murder me today- yes, Virgil, it was attempted murder and nothing less- and I survived with nary a scratch… and a broken foot, but that is beside the point. Anyway, I’m not allowed to stand for long periods of time, and I may or may not be somewhat inebriated by pain pills and couldn’t stand even if I wanted to. So we are cooking from my couch today.”

Janus paused for a few moments to read the chat messages as they popped up. A few get well soon’s, a few theories about the “attempted murder,” Virgil- who moderated his chat for him- vehemently denying the “attempted murder” but otherwise refusing to clarify the event, and a large volume of wtf why are you streaming today, take care of yourself comments, which made him smile. But one particular comment caught his eye, almost lost amid the torrent of an active chat: wait this kinda looks like the Duke’s living room?

“Oh, VampSuga,” he said, addressing that commenter in particular with a slight smirk. “I haven’t the faintest idea what you’re talking about. Anyway, since I can’t reach my oven from here, I thought some no-bake cookies were in order. For these you will need-”

-

[ID: A screenshot of a Discord conversation. The text reads:

“VampSuga: Ok ok hear me out. Dukeceit. 

Starstruck96: who?

IneffableSnek: lmao

FeralBeauYasha: lol

VampSuga: Deceit and Remus Sanders! They’re totally dating. I will die on this hill. 

FeralBeauYasha: Isn’t the duke w/ PatPat?

IneffableSnek: no thats his brothers bf

FeralBeauYasha: ohh

VampSuga: Did anyone see Deceit’s stream today? I swear that’s the Duke’s livingroom. 

StarStruck96: idk that seems like a stretch

IneffableSnek: no wait i kno what u mean

IneffableSnek: im watching the duke’s old videos and that one where he shows off all his old weapons he’s in a living room kinda like deceit’s 

FeralBeauYasha: They were acting all cute on twitter too

VampSuga: DUKECEIT”  /end ID]

-

"Hey guys, been a while since you've seen my face and not just whatever my hands are busy with, when it's within YouTube's terms and conditions I mean. They used to be way more lenient…" Remus trailed off for a moment, then shook his head sharply and plastered on a grin. 

"Anyway! In June me and a few other creators did a fundraiser for the Trevor Project, and y'all smashed the goal, so I let you decide what video I'd make this month." He paused, and gestured to the mountain of clothes piled behind him on the bed. "And you had so many juicy ideas to choose from, but you decided to dress me up like a Barbie instead."

Remus paused to scroll through his phone for a few moments. "Ah, ok, here we go. Twitter user YoonIsMyCat- oh, BTS, nice- sent in this first outfit. Uh… future Remus, put up the post here somewhere." He gestured vaguely to his right. "Y'all went with either a fuckton more clothes or a fuckton less clothes, which I respect. Apparently this outfit is called…” He squinted at his phone. “Amish chic? I take it back, no respect at all.”

Remus cycled through the outfits his viewers sent in, which ranged from the aforementioned “Amish chic” to “2008 rave attire” to “ok now you guys are just fucking with me” (which consisted of one of those big puffy snow coats, lime green in color; booty shorts with the shrug text emoji across the ass; fuzzy pink boots; and a yellow cowboy hat to top off the whole thing. It was awful. Remus loved it.) The mountain of clothes on the bed gradually became a mess of clothes spread across the floor instead, until there was just one outfit left. 

“Ok so Twitter user VampSuga sent me this outfit that I’m gonna call ‘sexy librarian.’ I couldn’t find this exact sweater online, but-” he paused for dramatic effect, before brandishing a sweater toward the camera like a bullfighter. “My boyfriend had something that was close enough.”

Remus hopped up from the bed and switched off the camera so he could change.

“They’re going to lose their minds,” a voice drawled from the doorway. Remus threw his shirt at him.

“Shoo, I’m getting naked.”

-

[ID: A Twitter post by user @CallMeDukie. It features a selfie of YouTuber Remus “The Duke” Sanders, a Hispanic man with his hair dyed green and styled into a spiked mohawk. He is wearing a yellow knitted cardigan over a black button-up shirt. He is grinning widely at the camera. The caption reads: “my viewers pick my outfits! now live on youtube. go see what i look like as a sexy librarian!” /end ID]

-

DukeceitStan

first and only dukeceit shipper ig

DukeceitStan

wow there’s so many of you now! Hi!!

DukeceitStan

i want this to be canon so bad omg

DukeceitStan

i mean just look

[image]

how 

[image]

cute

[image]

[ID: A series of three gifs featuring Youtubers SerpenThyme, aka Deceit, and TheDuke, aka Remus Sanders. Deceit is a black man with long, dreadlocked hair, and vitiligo patches along the left side of his face. Remus is a Hispanic man with green-dyed hair styled into a mohawk, many ear and facial piercings, and tattoos covering both arms. Each gif is edited so that the highlights are tinged yellow when Deceit is seen, and tinged green when Remus is seen.

The first gif depicts a close-up shot of Deceit’s hands as he carefully decorates a cookie with green and yellow icing. The cookie art he is working on appears to be a half-finished octopus. The gif then fades into a mid-shot of Remus, with his back to the camera, facing a canvas. The canvas is blank, and Remus appears to be laying out paints on a table to his left. 

The second gif depicts Deceit seated at his couch, facing the camera. He has many ingredients spread across his coffee table (including oats, cocoa powder, and butter) and appears to be in the process of laying out several more. The gif fades to show Remus seated at a similar couch with a similar coffee table in front of him. The camera is angled slightly downward to better show the myriad of knives spread out across the table. Remus is gesturing wildly with a morning star held in his hand. 

The third gif depicts Deceit in his kitchen. He is pulling on a bright, yellow knitted cardigan, and smirking toward the camera. The gif fades to show Remus in his bedroom, seated on his bed. He is holding up a similar-looking cardigan toward the camera and grinning. /end ID]

- 

“Remus, it’s almost two in the morning. Come to bed.”

“I’m coming, sorry. Twitter distracted me.”

“Mm. I can’t believe the bird app is more distracting than I am.”

“You should try harder.”

“Come to bed and maybe I will.”

“Ok, ok, I’m coming. Hang on though, is it cool if I post this?”

“Sure. They figured it out anyway.”

“Sweet. Ok, Jannie, I’m coming.”

-

[ID: A screenshot of a Twitter post by user @CallMeDukie. It reads: “Dukeceit is canon.” /end ID] 

#dukeceit #dukeceitweek #remus sanders #janus sanders #sanders sides fic #kye writes

[iampikachuhearmeroar]

sometime in this last week, or this week coming, my blog has turned/turns 10. god. a decade old. a whole ass chunk of my life i’ve spent on this hellsite. when i began on here, i was a kid. a lost, lonely, depressed and anxious 15/16 year old kid. a kid scared of her future. a kid confused about her future. what to do for uni. to change schools or not??? to do drama/acting at uni or english/philosophy or to move 8hrs away to another regional uni to “escape” her “washed up, dead end hometown” that was so typical of all the pop-punk music that she was listening to at the time.

she was a tad overdramatic, loud, “funny” (as described by her school friends) and terribly forgetful in regards to homework and school assignments. she was angry at the world, most especially the catholic school she was fucking sick and tired of attending. but she was convinced that since she was the so-called “funny girl”, that she simply couldn’t be depressed or anxious. she believed herself unloveable because she didn’t look like a weird mixture of hayley williams and emo-pop queen lights. but now, i no longer believe that i have to look like the women that i looked up to in the ~emo scene~. fuck beauty standards. i am loveable.

in the years since joining tumblr, i’ve managed to get through business college, my undergrad degree and, well, failed out of postgrad due to obvious burnout and health issues amongst other things. although i’ve lost many friends irl and many followers/mutuals online on here. for those who’ve stuck around to see me get through all of this, thank you. to all the friends/casual mutuals that have since deactivated or only followed me for a short time then unfollowed; thank you.

like obviously i was never/have never been a massive popular blog on here, like thebootydiaries or vampireapologist (who has since deactivated a couple of months ago) with tens of thousands of followers. my follower count is still close to the 8,000 range at 7,892. obviously that’s still a lot of people (and of course, porn bots lmao and many, many non-active blogs), enough like one super old post from like 2012 tumblr pointed out, enough for a small to medium sized city or town, or something like that. i don’t know how many people i’ve really reached. i really don’t know how i actually amassed this small army of people.

i am aware though, that on other platforms like snapchat (lmao does anyone even use it anymore in 2021???)/instagram/youtube/tiktok etc, i’d PROBABLY be considered as some type of ~micro influencer (🤮🤮)~. hell, i actually had a bot slide into my notes about being one on here on this hellsite back in 2019. i don’t know if i’ve ever actually ~influenced~ anyone on here with my shitposts (when i started making some) or my personal posts. i don’t know my reach. even though, now, i do occasionally get featured on buzzfeed listicles (although pay me buzzfeed along with the OPs of those original embedded posts), i still don’t know how many people i’ve reached… and even with my very occasional checks of google analytics lmao. on top of this, grappling with the loss of followers at times is much, much easier than it was when i began on here and the first few years following that. i know that my follower count doesn’t determine my worth and stuff.

but over these 10 years, i have grown. i turn 26 this year. back in 2011, 15/16yo me never thought she’d be here. she was partially down the suicidal thoughts hole, with things about ~picturing her funeral and wondering who’d bother to turn up. if only she could pretend to be dead for a day to see who’d give a fuck~ and 16-18yo me was defs down it with her HSC hellscape thoughts in 2012/2013. that 3rd floor tafe/tech women’s bathroom window drop and the thought of scarring her class for life (and that cool dude from catholic school that she crushed on who ended up at tafe with her) with jumping out of it onto the concrete below. instead, she just posted on fb about ~being a failure~ etc which ultimately did lose her a bunch of facebook friends lmao. it was practically the same thing. her mental breakdown after the end of her hsc, where she let her earrings go green and get infected in her ears because “fuck self care, bc what the fuck is it??? i’ll never get better! let me fucking wallow in my self loathing bc it’s the only thing that i’m fucking good at!!!” so i no longer have my ears pierced. oh! it was just all too fucking much!!

i am happier today. i no longer have those semi-suicidal thoughts. hell, i almost died in 2020 from a fucking bowel aneurysm, after my stomach tumour excision surgery. that forced me to put things into perspective. i appreciate the little things . i appreciate the very few friends that i actually have. yes. i’m still depressed and anxious. some days are still shitty and hard. but nowhere as hard and shitty as they were back when i began on here 10 years ago.

how the fuck last 10 years have gone past, with my ass on here; clearing out my blog and caring more about doing that than my uni work (lmao whoops); having made some lifelong friends both internationally (from the US) and long distance domestically in australia, it’s been a long ride; i honestly have no fucking idea. obviously over these past 10 years, i’ve debated with myself over and over and over again whether i should delete/deactivate this account or not. would it make me healthier??? more than likely. but then when i have meltdowns or just inner ramblings i have to get out somewhere, where else to post??? on fb?? obvs not. it’s “attention seeking” or the like on there. no one will read them. no one will resonate. but on here??? even if i got/get one “like” in the notes or one “yo i feel this” response in the tags or replies, it feels like i’ve reached someone??? okay yeah. i know this place IS NOT therapy and i’m not using my followers as amateur (or probs even actual professional) armchair psychologists…. which is a thing i think people need to stop doing internet-wide: but that’s a whole other post that i reblogged a few days ago lmao. i really need to get another therapist, actually lmao.

but it’s the community i’ve found hard to leave. i have what feel like friends, when i’ve never been employed (still as of yet); and when all of my irl friends/acquaintances are working and doing the whole ~adulting~ and ~grown up life~ thing right. it’s also the frenzied rabidness of spite with hating staff’s godawful ideas. the memes. oh the memes. and also the RaWrInG 20s XD emo scene reemergence on here that’s kept me here. the messy petty drama from time to time of big blogs fighting it out.

this place really is bizarre and fun sometimes. and also the fact that i can still hide behind the ridiculous “roaring pikachu” URL that i made all those years ago. i am anonymous. it’s freeing. but on fb it’s all like “WHY WONT YOU ADD A BANNER IMAGE AND TELL US 20 FUN FACTS ABOUT YOU!!!!!???? LET PEOPLE WHO HAVENT SPOKEN TO YOU IN 10 YEARS KNOW EVERYTHING ABOUT YOU BECAUSE WE’RE ALL FRIENDS HERE!!!” and the same goes for Corporate Hellscape Facebook™️ (linkedin) but in the professional sense instead. y’all know fuck all about me really. besides my posts. and i love that and live for that. okay yeah. y’all know more about my mental health than my fb feed obvs… which is probably a terribly unfortunate thing. but still.

over the last 10 years then, my superiority complex for being ~so original and intelligent~ or whatever the fuck i had in high school, has all but ebbed away. i’m not that smart just because i went to uni. hell, i literally did NONE of my in-class work and none of my philosophy readings in uni….. so i have fuck all idea of how i got through undergrad like that lmao. i’m not original when so many people can articulate the same thoughts that i have, but like, sometimes better, on a post (even though sometimes/most of the time the Tumblr User Hot Takes Tuesday™️ takes on here are fucking awful lmao). but still. originality is not something i really have anymore. or really had in the first place lmao.

so will i deactivate after these 10 years, like i’ve been saying for so, so long??? i honestly have no idea. but just know. thanks guise. have a nice gpoy selfie day XD. grab your wands. your tardises. grab your war paint. grab your whatever the fuck other fandom specific stuff that was one that hella cringe post from 2011 til 2015 random tumblr. that relic is as old as time itself. just as this mysterious roaring pikachu is for someone whose too loyal to leave this W E B B E D H E L L S I T E that’s just as much of a train wreck as she is. lmao.

#life #about me #shut up ilona #tumblr is legit my fucking life now #motivate me to deactivate this blog to leave the hellsite forever 2021 #trigger warning: suicide mention #tw: suicide mention

[radiorenjun]

Grand announcement ❗❗❗

Yep you read that right and no this is not a joke, unfortunately.

Honestly is it that much of a surprise?

Um I don't know when I'm actually going to post this or if I will post this considering I've been debating on whether i should actually take time off of not. But depending on the date I post this, its either going to be one of two reasons or both.

LETS GO WITH THE POSITIVE ONE FIRST SHALL WE?

First of all, Happy Ramadan! My maids going back to her old village for the holidays so I'm going to have to assist my parents in babysitting more til she gets back. Therefore I will be too busy to post or update. Or maybe my parents plan an unexpected vacation or something and I'll be too busy to communicate with anyone on my phone.

Edit: I take it back my mom fired her when she caught some cigarette ashes in her room today (my maid went back to her village yesterday btw) and now we gonna get a temporary one that comes and goes everyday at the end of Ramadan LMFAOOO more chores for me then

Also, im posting this to just inform everyone I'll be okay and I'll return somewhere in the end of May or the beginning of June considering I promised a few moots to voice call then. Man, it feels weird speaking all serious like this. It feels even weirder that I'm not even using capslock lmfao.

Okay the other reason. Im not really thrilled to think that it's finally drove me up so far i have to take a break from everything.

If you can't tell from how I've been on and off lately uh like my mental health is getting bad. Like really really bad?

I won't go into much details but for safety stuff here's your trigger warning for ED, SH, Depression, Nightmares, etc. If you don't want to read this part you can scroll down until you see some random red statement I'll write later so you can see what I have to say before i leave.

Uh okay where do I start. To sum it all up basically, my mental health is in absolute ruins? At the moment?? Uh... It's been the worst it has been in the past three to four years? I don't know anymore. I can't sleep properly because I keep having nightmares of past su1c1d3 attempts and the outcome of actually succeeding. I can't eat properly anymore. My SH habits and my anxiety is coming back (every beginning of every month though so it wasn't as bad as way way when this started) and I trying my best to stop it again. I'm almost a month clean but I doubt that I can last more than that again because everything seems to get worse and worse. I cry myself to sleep because of my thoughts being so fucked up. I tried coming forward with this so many times to my parents and my teachers but they won't believe me, i can't do anything anymore except try to get better by myself. I can't bring myself to communicate with anyone anymore knowing full well that the only thing that's keeping me alive at this moment is socializing. I keep having flashbacks of when older men stalked me everywhere I went in the past. I lie awake knowing that nothing can bring me comfort except seeing that one idol who you all probably know by now. Im literally depending on him to keep me together during the day it's not even funny anymore lmfao.

I have to do endless chores, deal with all of this at once, catch up on two semesters worth of materials for my new school, deal with my graduation ceremony which is coming around this month or next month? Somehow I developed some type of anger issues the past year so haha that's great yuh no.

To stop you from worrying, no, I don't have suicidal tendencies anymore but I don't exactly have something to be thrilled living for. I'm just vibin in life at this point lmao

I'm just tired. I'm really really tired. Id lie awake crying my eyes out while listening to renjun voice audios. I'm tired of crying all the time and I'm tired of everything. Im tired of laying in bed overthinking and stressing bout things that wouldnt normally bother as much. I promise I won't do anything stupid

I won't be gone long. I'm not okay at the moment but I will be. Because at the end i need to be okay again. I'm giving myself time to heal again before something gets bad. I promise I'll come back from time to time. I promise I'll be okay again and I'll come back as that happy hyper renjun simp who swears and uses capslock, spamming memes or whatever.

I'm not comfortable opening up about anything that goes beyond too sad in my life so I'm just going to leave it at that

You can stop scrolling now. The triggering part is over.

Thank you for all the moots who decided to cheer me up unknowingly whenever I was having a mental breakdown. Thank you for reading up to here lmfao uh I don't know what to say? God Im a mess.

Dms on both tumblr and discord will be pretty slow. I'm sorry but I'll reply to my asks like a day or two after they're sent. I won't be posting much until June and I'm truly sorry for those who were waiting for the last chapter of idni, im taking this chance to also rethink the ending so I can somehow make it better than I originally planned it literally a year ago.

Damn broken English 101.

As I said before, I'll be okay when I get back. I'll be the happy hyper angie I always was and always will be when I return. I don't know when I'll post this but hopefully I don't haha. You don't have to be worried about me, this happened before and I always come back okay again. I'll be okay, I promise. I'll be back in a month.

Do what yall do and don't forget to tag me whenever you post any renjun fics haha. I'll miss you all, don't forget about me okay? Haha.

I'll be looking forward to writing again and hopefully I'll be mentally and physically healthy then. Hopefully I'll have my motivation in writing back again by then. I'll try my best to commit into getting better and being happy. Plus I wanna start an sm au but rn it doesn't seem very likely haha

I'll be contacting my networks bout this as soon as I post this.

Thank you and see you all later

#announcement! #bye bye

[zirkkun]

Yo you have every right to be upset about things! You're still a person with your own feelings and deserve to be treated kindly. No one should come at you for making things you enjoy or for misunderstandings. I hope things get better for you even if I wasn't here for when all the drama happened (or maybe I was and just wasn't aware of it? I tend to avoid drama as much as possible tbh)

I didn't really post about it much. I think I answered about 4 asks about it (three of them in the same post because i was sure it was the same anon due to the similar string of seemingly continued messages) and the rest I just deleted as soon as they came in, but I got... A lot. A lot of mean things said too. Kinda hurts when you wanted to make something because you knew this work was highly criticized and wanted to let people give it a second chance only to be shot down by the people you were hoping to defend lol

In short, and a lot of it I missed because I was blocked by a lot of people so my friend sent me screencaps; someone took I believe only the old ask box post I had for ULR, which at the time was called "Underlust Rewrite," and was disgusted at the fact that everything was revamped and "made for kids" (because it's not 18+ explicit content, but as I've said before, it's just cause I'm too scared to be horny on main, and I've literally made a whole different biological system for ULR so I can write the necessary story ""sex scenes"" without it being human-like sex or otherwise uncomfortable or too explicit for me to draw, but I still consider it a mature story overall), so they blocked me instantly here and on twitter and then made a callout post on twitter itself. People were telling me originally to stop calling the AU Underlust, and I didn't really get it at first, because like, what's the difference between my spinoff and, say, Underlust Gold, Swapfell Indigo, TS!Underswap, you know, names that have add-ons from the original title to differentiate it but still connect it to the source. So that's what I said, as well as if I removed the Underlust name, it would be considered stealing to me, because I'd be disconnecting it from the source. But apparently, instead, what had been the concern was that it was just being called "Underlust" and the "Rewrite" aspect was implying I was replacing the original story, which like, had never been my intention and I've made a bunch of things with both the ULR and UL cast together and love the idea of Lust and Ace meeting up and just being a disaster duo of not working together at all. I just adore Underlust like it's in my pinned FAQ, Lust's been in my banner for months now, and he's practically my staple pfp character on every account but here atm.

It took like 3 days for it to actually click what was going on, because once I finally got the chance to have a conversation with someone where they weren't telling me I was the scum of the Earth -- which, honestly, bless the three people I talked to, they were so sweet (which actually included someone from the Japanese side of the fandom whose art I loved too... yeah it got pretty far. Once I sent them a message though it was cleared up quickly and they did post a clarification post about ULR and me, so that was nice to see.) -- I finally got the chance to realize that this was a misunderstanding from the beginning, from both sides, where people coming at me were saying I was doing all of the stuff above and probably more but those stuck the most, while I was confused as to where this information and accusations were coming from and what they were referring to in the first place. They probably never explained it in the anon asks because, well, they probably assumed I knew what I was doing, but when they came at me about something I didn't do with vague context of something I did do, I was very confused, and got really defensive really quickly, and really honestly snapped pretty hard. After my first initial explanation post and people were still trying to tell me to stop ULR/don't call it Underlust/whatever else there was, I just got tired and told people to block me if they didn't like it. But that didn't really stop anyone and honestly made it worse because that's when I started getting really nasty messages. I like... Specifically remember one where someone called me a lowlife and a thief, and that one stuck the most, but I tended to not read through them before deleting them for my own sanity. I actually did this to one of the people who'd later talked to me calmly about it at first too, because I had just woken up, and really didn't want to read an essay lecture on everything everyone's been telling me at the crack of 7am when I was borderline ready to delete my account and start over lol

Some people I do remember were accusing me of trying to censor nsfw content or erase it as well because ULR isn't 18+, and I'm out here on my horny ass like "wh. What are they talking about, where did you get that idea, have you SEEN my ao3 recommended list," /j but in all seriousness I really didn't understand that accusation at all because I've never been against nsfw content in the slightest and lowkey? This is very dumb -- but like, you know how they say when you get hate mail, you know you've made it? Well, for me, my thought has always been, "When there's 18+ fancontent of my OC's, I'll have finally made it." This is... Not a joke, some of my friends think its very weird LMAO oh well. I've been on the internet for far too long at this point -- like, definitely since I was far too young, probably, and being with a family of the next youngest being 12 years older than me, I really dove into stuff pretty quickly I definitely shouldn't have, but hey that's life -- I'm really unfazed by mostly anything now. Hell, me making ULR was honestly half motivated by me wanting to make others more comfortable with this kind of media, discussing sexuality and otherwise sexual-considered topics, without really being embarrassed or bothered by it. Because, people talk about death and killing and whatever other gorey stuff just fine, but the moment sex comes up, people just gasp in awe, y'know? I kind of grew up that way myself but like... ironically, in being more comfortable with my asexuality, I realized that it's honestly not that big of a deal. Sure, we don't need to hear the details of everything. We don't need to hear the details of a murder either. But I will never understand how murder is always the lowest on the "morally wrong list of things to not to" to so many people and that it's fine to mention, but even consider bringing up anything else and it's like, a sin and you're a bad person. Even racism is like, higher up on there for a lot of people, which it's like... this is an issue that needs to be discussed, or it can never be solved. You can't just kick that away and hope it goes away on its own, that's never how it works.

Ah, well, now I've gone off tangent lol. Sorry to make you read a blob of text lmao but having things in a cohesive format of what I've been thinking does feel a bit better. Thank you for the support regardless, and I do want to keep making what I really enjoy, because frankly, I really want to make things that make people take a step back and think for a moment, y'know? Things that invoke like a realization in yourself about something you didn't even know. That's how fiction's always been for me, so I want to give back by making it that way too. ... maybe my horny content is exempt from this however. That's just. Self indulgence LMAO.

Probably helps that I'm actually talking this all out for once, too, since before any of this I tried to keep as much of the situation contained to myself as possible in hopes I could clean it up before it got too bad. That was, in hindsight, probably a terrible idea lol. But I didn't want to be a source of stress for anyone following me or become the new creator-to-defend that like, 50% of people hate and 50% of people love and that you're either on one side or the other and there's no where in between. (I feel like Arin Hanson comes to mind for me every time I think of someone like this.) I know I can't please everyone and I knew internet hate would come eventually, but like, didn't expect it to be over a name or tag choice. I thought that would be a simple enough DM or clearable thing but apparently not, especially since I saw someone a few weeks ago delete their blog over a similar thing (though, the opposite, in a way: posting nsfw in a sfw tag by mistake). It wasn't in the UT fandom so y'all probably weren't following them (tbf I wasn't either, I just witnessed it happen from start to finish), but it was still disheartening.

Anyway, thank you, and sorry to make ya read all of that (if you actually did vahdbs don't blame you if you don't it's a lot of thought dump lmao)💕💕

#zircon answers #anonymous #all this happened like the DAY i got accepted onto the bhc team to and i was like #alright guys am i being kicked out day one lol #like i was expecting the worst from this whole thing #but im still kind of happy with how i worked it out #i really wish more people were like #willing to talk things out rather than just spit in a general direction and hope youll listen #because like even the people i talked to calmly some of them were pretty rude at first! but! #theyre not bad people #they were just scared for their favorite thing #i cant blame them for that and honestly i do consider the hatred justified under the circumstances that they knew #but they were all really nice after we talked things out #and were like 'i hope your series does well' and that really meant a lot honestly #death mention tw//

[hatsukeii]

So I was talking with @trashcanweeb right

Talking thirsting over fluffy dom daddy Tsukishima

And I was just mentioning how I was gonna do soft Tsukishima

And she was craving for post-breakup Tsukki

👀👀👀

I think you know which one I chose to do

Let me channel all my pain into this

I might actually end up crying while writing this:D

I apologise in advance

Three months // Tsukishima Kei x reader

Word count: 1600+

Warnings: Angst??? Is that even a warning at this point lmao learn to expect it from me at the worst times

Summary: Tsukishima can’t deal with change, at least not in this form.

“They say the emotion that breaks your heart is the very one that heals it.” Three months ago, Tsukishima would’ve never even thought about the possibility that this shitty, cringy, fake deep quote that he poked fun at so much with you, would somehow become relatable. Three months ago, he would’ve still had a tattered, but intact heart. It wasn’t as if you didn’t know how much even the tiniest betrayal could impact him. You knew fully well, which only added to his misery. Trust? Every little shred of that is long gone. Three months ago, he trusted one person. Now, he can’t trust anyone. No. He simply won’t anymore. Not a day has passed by where he didn’t stare at you hopelessly. Whether it be in class, or from across the hall. He should be mad. Pissed. You were an absolute asshole. Calling you an animatronic dick equipped with balls that was bought off of an eighty year old man in an alley would still be an understatement. Regret, resentment, the bitter disgust of being absolutely played and fooled whilst everyone watched, and yet, he still can’t find a way to stop loving you, even if it’s slowly draining him from inside. Tsukishima never gave much thought to heartbreak, nor did he care. He was good with his emotions, it couldn’t be that bad. Three months ago, the possibility would’ve ceased to unnerve him. However, that isn’t so certain now. He’s terrified. How long will this constant, mental, hell, last for? A few more months? Maybe a year? Only time will tell, and that doesn’t sit right with him. What upset him the most, was how you didn’t even make an effort to explain yourself. How the hell did you expect him to react when he overheard your friends pitying him? Unaffected? How could you even have had the audacity, to ask Yamaguchi why he looked “depressed and suicidal”? How did he manage to fall in love with someone like you?

“Tsukishima! Eyes on the game! Stay focused!” Daichi’s voice resonates through the sports hall, catching everyone’s attention but Tsukishima’s. His eyes are glued to the stands, scanning every single face that was present. The sound of the volleyball slamming into the ground fills the court, cheers from the opposite team booming through the large area as the crowd cheers together. Golden eyes frantically dart from stand to stand. Although he knows what reality is, his mind simply refuses to accept and give in. He still wants something, anything, that can show that you were there, like usual. His mind was empty, your name rerunning like a shitty mixtape as his eyes droop in the familiar disappointment. “Oi, Tsukishima, that’s the third block you’ve missed in a row-” “Daichi, don’t.” The third year freezes, feeling an icy cold hand on his shoulder as he turns to meet the blond’s best friend. Yamaguchi’s eyes show the sympathy he has for his friend, desperately trying to get the captain to lay off. Even the freckled teen can’t understand the middle blocker now, despite being the closest to him. The past three months were gruelling, with Tsukishima being completely depressed and out of it. He stopped waiting for Yamaguchi at the school gates, ignored everyone’s texts, never picked up his phone, and most importantly, stopped trying in practice. When you went up to ask about Tsukishima looking “depressed and suicidal”, Yamaguchi was tempted to strangle you on the spot. However, he didn’t want to waste his boba tea. “Are you serious right now? You’re one to ask, when you’ve been nothing but fake to him for almost half a year! No shit he’s depressed right now! You’re an absolute bitch. You don’t deserve to apologise to him.” You were taken aback, easing your hands out in an attempt to calm the green haired boy down. “Dammit, I know I screwed up Yamaguchi. Just...” Your eyes darted to the sky for a moment, trying to form the next sentence. “Just don’t be mad at Hinata. Tell Tsukishima not to be mad at Hinata. Please.” Now this. This was exactly what made Yamaguchi pop a vein, and hurl the entire plastic cup at you, letting it bounce off your torso and spill everywhere. “Shut up. Tsukki isn’t as shallow as you are. You’re terrible.” And with that, he stormed away, leaving you shocked and humiliated as other students approached you, curious about the commotion that was caused.

Another loss for the Karasuno team. They haven’t won anything in three months. Daichi was gradually getting anxious, as were the rest of the team. No one seemed to pay much attention to Tsukishima, of course, except Hinata and Yamaguchi. Hinata has been feeling terrible, despite none of this being his fault. He doesn’t reciprocate any of your feelings. He only found out through Yamaguchi a few weeks ago, and he hasn’t said anything to the blond since. His usually stupid insults were silenced, anything even the slightest bit offensive to Tsukishima being muted out by himself. Tsukishima was never mad at him, oh no. Hinata was not, and still isn’t at fault. He thinks it’s stupid how the ginger is still apologetic, despite all the times he’s told him not to worry. Time and time again, Yamaguchi and Hinata would convince the third years to understand how Tsukishima “isn’t in a good place right now”. So far, the only person that has figured it out is Sugawara. His mom instincts are far too strong to not sense it. Since then, he’s joined the two first years in helping Daichi cool off whenever he got agitated by the middle blocker’s “less than ideal” performance. 

For three whole ass months, all Tsukishima would do is go through everything that marked your relationship. From old text messages, to the selfies that he tried so hard to delete. Everything that you were a part of felt... fake. As if it never happened at all. All the “omg ilysm”, “you’re amazing”, “Kei, sweetie” texts still made his heart bounce around his ribcage like a hare on crack. It was both painful, and heartwarming. When a hare jumps around your ribcage, expect the bones to break too. He would regularly trace his finger around the selfies, trying to reimagine all the times you two spent together. One of his favourites, is the one of you in his jersey after a game. Were you faking then? Were you even cheering for him? He couldn’t hear any cheers, or maybe he was just too busy breaking his fingers in the court. Who’s to say she wasn’t cheering for the ginger haired spiker, who she ended up infatuated with? Were any of those dates genuine? Was her mind even on himself? How pathetic of Tsukishima. To think that trusting someone would ever lead to something good was the biggest mistake he’s ever made. He trusted his brother. He looked up to him. Look what that led to. Then he trusted a girl. He gave her everything he could. He spilled his feelings, teased her, comforted her, reassured her when times got rough, pulled his heart out and let her handle it because he couldn’t do it himself, and what did he get in return? Betrayal. Yet another betrayal. How many more people are planning to turn on him? Hm? Maybe Yamaguchi? Perhaps his mother would reveal that he was adopted? Those two are the only people he thinks he trusts at this point, and that trust is slowly fading as well. He never understood the difficulty in pressing a delete button until three months ago. His finger hovers above the trash can icon like he’s done so many times before, tempted to press it. Erase the memories, regardless of whether they were fake or not. It’s as if an invisible force pulls his hand back at the last second, making him rethink everything all over again. Is he really ready to trash these photos? Would he really be able to manage himself without you? Why were you the only good thing that has happened in his despair filled life? Night and night again he would imagine you saying the things you text him. You might not have meant it, but it never hurt to imagine. His tears get caught in his eyes every time he does that, but he does it anyway. He doesn’t care if it hurts anymore. Everything hurts. Might as well get hurt by love over and over again, at least that’s somewhat interesting. 

Tsukishima knows that there’s eventually going to be a time where none of this matters anymore. It’s going to take a while, but he simply can’t stay in this depressive loop forever. He knows it’ll get better. Everyone that knows about this has been trying to reach out to him in some way, but to no avail. They should definitely be more concerned than they already are. Tsukishima is not good at emotions. He has no idea what he’s doing as he takes one of his mom’s beers from the fridge and gulps it all down, almost throwing it all back up at the disgusting bitterness. He hasn’t been sleeping at all, thoughts constantly clouding his mind. He’s been terrifyingly hard on himself, making deprecating comments about his personality, his looks, his skills, all to make him feel bad. Maybe he deserves it. Maybe he just wasn’t good enough. That might’ve explained why you went to another person without even giving it a second thought. Despite all this shit piled up on him, he still manages to say one thing to himself every single night. He might be crying, he might be drunk, he might have just shattered something. But without fail, he will say this. 

“Please, three more months only.”

Why is this so shit I don’t understand-

Idek anymore I just made myself depressed writing this

I hate it yaaaaaas

It’s SO BAD I CANNOT WHAT IS THIS???

Tags: @trashcanweeb @sunshines-and-tatertots @izzyphantomgamer @emsvegetables @inlwlevi @just-another-bored-writer @burnt-tomato @justachillgirl @eleiaisagoodgirliswear @kaylacinderella @random-fandomlover @for-ests @bokutokoutarou @poppirocks @tiger1719 @thirstyvolleyballhoe @sakusasgarbage @animebsposts @tiredgr3mlin @mariechan123 @itmekisuu @iwaigroomi @talks-a-lot-of-stuff @agentvicinity​ @ewfilthymundane​ @macaronnv​ @artsamber @sneezefiction @xonfusedsoul

#haikyuu #haikyuu scenario #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu imagine #haikyuu headcanons #haikyuu tsukishima #haikyuu angst #hq #hq x reader #hq scenario #hq headers #hq angst #hq imagine #hq tsukki #tsukishima kei #tsukishima x reader #tsukishima angst #anime #idek i hate this so much it's so bad but have fun reading

[selfcareparker]

okay fghsgdj yes you can say girl ! my pronouns are she/her :) okay but fr pause, i read this like 3 minutes after you posted it (or at least my notif said 3mins lmao) bUT IM IN BED AND I USUALLY HAVE MY COMPUTER OPEN WITH YOUR RESPONSE SO I MAKE SURE I ADDRESS EVERYTHING AND THEN SEND IN THE ASK ON MY PHONE HDGSJSH anyway, time to get my ass up 😔 but wait i find you so funny like honestly, reading that cracked me all the way up. and i feel the “lol” thing so hard!!!! idk why i do it all the time (i’m tryna stop) but i’ll say something with lol at the beginning and lol at the end... it might be a defense mechanism at this point lol (😔) AND (i need to stop with the uppercase too it’s not funny anymore) I DONT KNOW WHY I LAUGHED SO HARD JDHSK WHEN YOU SAID ALSO AGAIN HAHAHAH LIKE UR HAHHAH also my sleep schedule is not pretty either lmao but i’m homeschooled so i never have to get up for anything? hhdhsis idk but i’m glad you slept!! you need sleep!!

also (pls no i cannot) why did i not know what ykwim meant until i reread this?? like it makes so much sense- anyway! i think it’s so cool that you’re excited for university! idk why but i do lol like you’re getting ready for the future (masters degree and all that) & you’re (maybe) going to england anyway so that’s cool haha (hopefully when you go you can see your relatives 🤞🏾)

the fact that you get happy seeing my asks i- 💓💓

you make me wanna go to London & England so bad urghhhh like i’ve only been out of the country once (to Canada for a family reunion) but it sounds so prettyyyyy & i’m so sorry that cov*d is messing everything up and i hope you can see your relatives soon :(

now to address the whole english speaking/writing: I FIND THAT SO WEIRD DUHSKSJ i don’t know how an english speaking person could say that if you don’t write it 100% grammatically correct.... that it’s wrong? when literally, over here at least, WE’RE SO GRAMMATICALLY INCORRECT HAHHAAH in both the way we talk and write!! and lol you’re welcome,, AND THE PARAGRAPH DID MAKE SENSE HDHSJSH & your rant is fine because... that is actually a bit ??? bc no one writes with 100% grammar lol

OH MY GOSH (see this uppercase thing is addictive) YOU STUDIED LATIN FOR 6 YEARS??? that’s really cool 🥺 the way that you know/speak 3+ languages i- NOT EVEN 3+ LIKE 6+ (german, english, latin, french, serbian, italian, and everything that comes with latin lmao) even if it’s just a tiny bit like wowee. it is really fascinating!!! i had the opportunity to take latin and i... didnt. i took art instead BUT ONLY CUZ MY FRIENDS WERE IN THAT CLASS AND ART LOOKED FUN IM SORRY

PLEASE WHY DO YOU KNOW EVERYONE?? that sounds so fricking cool tell your mom (mum or mama it’s really fine lol) that she sounds awesome. i think Jamaica would be fun either way!! i mean it looks pretty from pictures? i was a baby so i honestly have no recollection hahaha

LMAOO NOT U SAYING THIS IS LONGER THAN SOME OF MY FICS- PLEASE GIRL IM TELLING YOU I VERBALLY LAUGHED HAHAHAHAHAH but yea you really don’t need to apologize i like reading everything you say 🥺 HDKSHS AND UR FINE WE WERE JUST TALKING ABOUT ME BEFORE uhhh hmm uhh lemme think i, well, i saw chaos walking yesterday (big tom holland fan over here) and it was alright.. my mom acted a fool at all the jump scares LMAO but it was funny... since i’m talking about movies (this is hella random i know) but i like shark movies HDKJSSJ my favorite is the meg (it’s so good ohmigosh) and the 47 meters down movies aren’t bad either... i have two younger brothers... iiiii AM IN LOVE WITH MUSIC PHEW anddd i’m homeschooled (i think i mentioned that lol) i think that’s a good amount ahahaha AND IM HUNGRY RN JDHSJ

now. please. let me address the edit. i just want you to know that.. when i talk about your fics and i finish them and everything i’m not looking for more? like obviously if you’re writing i’m gonna read it but you don’t need to feel pressured or anything (idk if you do) to put more fics out lol like they’re great and i’m just sending the praise bc i love the ones that are there :’) but i’m so happy you’re working through your writers block!!! yay so so happy for you!!! and PUHLEASE anything you write is fantastic, i feel the exact same way when i write but girl. you’re fine. it’s gonna be great. (idk if this made any sense but... okay)

(and my cousin calls her mom mama so it’s really okay hahah i even call my mom mama sometimes) (and where you got the number “16 sentences” beats me but i still cracked up) (is this me pretending i had tags? maybe) HAHAHAHA OK BYE ❤️❤️ why did this take me so long to send i have no clue, AND WHY AM I OVERTHINKING EVERYTHING I SAID SHAJSHSJ ANYWAY BYE btw i love us too... like iconic // lovely anon 💓

me reading this:

also the dedication you put into sending me stuff— like with the laptop and phone and ahsksk 🥺🥺🥺

i’ll update you when i’ve started uni btw, i’m getting more and more excited every single day haha but i still have 3 weeks until it starts and even then I’ll obviously have to get used to it and everything, but you’re making me even more excited about it sksjshsg

yeah i wanna go to england too dkshsh let’s be sad together over the fact the we can’t travel eksjsh😔😭 but hopefully the wait will make it even better in the end <33 also i talk to loads of relatives over the phone at least once a week so it’s not too bad for me! but i miss their house 😭lmao

and i knowww snshsh so many native english speakers just make so many mistakes— and obviously i get that some things are slang but some things are simply wrong ajsh, the thing is no one has ever told me that my english is bad (i know it’s not bad anyway, but i’m still insecure) or no one has ever pointed out any mistakes, but yeah it’s mostly just insecurity dkshsg but yes thanks for saying what you said (previously as well as in this ask)😌🥰

Okay now for latin— girlll i don’t blame u for choosing art over latin esp. when all of your friends are doing art as well!! I’d choose art over latin as well lol skshsg but in year 6 we had to choose between latin and french, and at the time i didn’t like french? which was dumb of me and now i wanna learn french ekdhs but i don’t regret choosing latin at all bc if i properly learn french one day then i’ll already know understand loads of stuff (or at least some stuff lol) just thanks to latin 😌😌 but still, art>>>latin skskshshgs

I wanna watch chaos walking too!!! But i don’t get when/where/how it’s out lmao, cinemas are still closed here so i’ll either have to wait or find it somewhere online... il*egally 🥰 i don’t have high expectations at all btw but i like daisy and tom and the dog🥺 so i think i’ll enjoy it

GIRL SHARK FILMS SHARK FOLMS SKSJSHSHS okay so there are a few classics i haven’t watched yet, and also a few new ones that i haven’t seen yet BUT I LOVE SHARK FILMS SO MUCH SKSHSGSGSKK the first like proper shark film i ever watched was the shallows (which i like but my brain is still too small to comprehend what happened at the end (i mean i get it but i just can’t imagine it— idek if you’ve seen the film but skshhs)) and after watching it three times it does get a bit boring (but now whenever i see pictures or videos of big waves i’m just waiting for a shark to show up like come ON SKSJSG

^^^that pic/scene really traumatised me sksjsh but i still like the film

I only watched jaws like a few months ago, and i get that it’s a classic and also that it’s old and they just didn’t have the best.. equipment or special effects or whatever but i mean... look at meg and then look at jaws.... no disrespect to jaws at ALL but the meg is so much cooler. (That one scene on the boat where the shark just JUMPS OUT OF THE WATER AND SKSJSHHSUSJHA i get such a shock every time it’s so good (and the dog aww aksjshssli 🥺🥺🥰 and the boy with the ice cream lmao he’s iconic)

47 metres down, wow, i liked that film too. (i’ve only watched the original/first one i think) i mean that is such a fucking nightmare scenario like ALSJDHSNEMSKDJSHSJSKWBALSODUEWBSLDKHDJSNSKSKSHSGEBWKAISGSHEKEKSKLDJDJDHDHSHAGGA (that’s the best way i can express my feelings about that scenario lmao)

oh and i’ve recently been watching more horror films but i don’t know if they’re for me... I like the thrill and whatever but i just end up being scared for my life when i have to go to the bathroom at night or when i’m trying to sleep bc suddenly my mind is flooded with all the scary shit from the films 💀💀💀

and music i mean... you know those people who just don’t listen to music? WHAT IS WRONG WITH THEM???? i honestly like all genres especially in the last year, i am IN LOVE with Nicki Minaj + Megan andddd Stormzy and i like Harry Styles but i prefer his first solo album (and obviously one direction has bangers i have a throwback 1D session at least once a month), I also love MGK especially his new stuff and otherwise i mostly listen to german artists lmao. So who do you like?💖 (WHY DO I FEEL LIKE YOURE GONNA SAY SOMETHING COMPLETELY DIFFERENT SKAHAGUS IF YOU LISTEN TO COMPLETELY DIFFERENT MUSIC DONT JUDGE ME AJSHDJS) (i know you’re not gonna judge me but)

++ @ the thing you said about writing, don’t worry, i don’t feel pressured at all!!! (not by you and not by anybody else.. except myself sometimes lol) and i’m just very happy that you liked my fics 🥰🥰🥰 and if i start telling people that i’m writing a fic then sometimes it puts a bit of (healthy) pressure on me. like yes sometimes it really is writer’s block, but sometimes i really am just lazy ddkshhd so now that i’ve told you i’m writing a fic i might get my ass up quicker than i would if i hadn’t told anyone 😌😌😌

#ok i wrote some if this on the tube/on the bus/at the dentist/in bed so if this seems like it’s all over the place #that’s bc i was literally all over the place skshg #*of #also i love how you used tags skajahsg #lovely anon #<3 #sorry if some of the sentences didn‘t make sense or were too fucking long i wrote half of this half asleep #and i know i dont have to apologise but still like no one should have to read all my page long sentences that arent even proper sentencesskk

[theheroheart]

New Years Meme 2020

@arqueete:  “This survey is a meme that has been passed around among my friends since back in LJ days. If you want to join in, please consider yourself tagged.”

I used to journal more, and stuff like this is really nice to look back on, because I have terrible memory for life stuff or the passage of time. So here, for future me.

1. What did you do in 2020 that you’d never done before? Uhhhh wear a mask to the grocery store? This was not a groundbreaking year for new experiences.

2. Did you keep your New Years’ resolutions and will you make more for next year? I didn't have any. I don't make any. I mean, sometimes I make them in the vague "I want to focus on this in the future", but I'll already have forgotten by March, like I don't really PLAN my life in such a way. I just have goals that aren't tied to specific points in time. You get there when you get there, and you choose what you want to prioritise.

3. Did anyone close to you give birth? No, but my brother got married, which was very exciting because he's 40 and has never had a girlfriend who he considered important enough for me to meet. (And my sister-in-law is delightful.)

4. Did anyone close to you die? My (half-)brother's dad died a few weeks ago (cancer), but I didn't really know him, so I wouldn't say he was close to me. I did spend almost a week at my brother's place to be there for him though. And honestly, I kept thinking about how my mom's dead this year, because in a way I'm glad we didn't have to deal with this year together. She already died from respitory failure, had poor impulse control and sense of safety, and I would've been CONSTANTLY worried about her.

5. What countries did you visit? I was gonna go to Malaysia (for my brother's wedding celebration), but that didn't happen. (Flatmates were gonna go to Japan.) So. Yeah. Home country all the way.

6. What would you like to have in 2021 that you lacked in 2020? A driving force to move forward in my life?

7. What date from 2020 will remain etched upon your memory, and why? I don't think... that there is one specific day? I guess the US election? Despite me being Norwegian, it's still fairly historic.

8. What was your biggest achievement of the year? /stares blankly at the wall I did do some nice art pieces? I coped? I managed to have good times and make friends despite everything else.

9. What was your biggest failure? I dropped out of two classes specifically because I couldn't do remote learning and self-structured study (BECAUSE ADHD YO), even though it wasn't even that HARD subjects, which was very frustrating. It hasn't set my study plan back, thankfully, but it still felt like a waste.

10. Did you suffer illness or injury? Only mental. And thankfully not as bad as it could've been, but hell yeah there was some strong anxiety in there.

11. What was the best thing you bought? I've bought some great video games this year. Animal Crossing brought 250 hours of fun, Hades brought 100 hours so far. Good investments.

12. Whose behavior merited celebration? // 13. Whose behavior made you appalled and depressed? Both of these are related to pandemic behavior so I think you can guess.

14. Where did most of your money go? Entertainment? Also, god, I spent so much money on theatre tickets that are now just vouchers for non-specific future performances. I'll get my money's worth eventually, but right now it's hundres of dollars worth just sitting in vouchers. OH, and, digital D&D books.

15. What did you get really, really, really excited about? I had tickets for Chess. Several tickets, for multiple performances. STILL HAVEN'T SEEN THIS PRODUCTION THOUGH. But they're still doing it so hopefully it will still happen.

16. What song(s) will always remind you of 2020? Not sure I have any specific ones, actually. No iconic music.

17. Compared to this time last year, are you: Last year I was feeling very accomplished. I was challenging myself, had befriended lots of classmates, had gotten through some stuff I was quite proud of managing. This year has been... not that. But on the other hand, I'm not as exhausted from school stuff, and I'm ready to actually go places and try to do things, as opposed to just wanting a month long nap.

18. What do you wish you’d done more of? General life maintainance stuff. Not just school work, but like, focus more on money sensibility and try to get on disability, go to the dentist, work with my doctor more... All of that got a little bit just... postponed indefinitely.

19. What do you wish you’d done less of? Uh, can't think of any notable negative behaviour. It's mostly stuff I didn't do. Like, I had some bad anxiety in the spring, but honestly I think I did an appropriate amount of worrying.

20. How will you be spending Christmas? Had my first christmas with my flatmates (whom I love very much), and had my dad over as well. It was very lovely, and socially way less draining than usual.

22. Did you fall in love in 2020? lmao I'm aromantic

23. How many one-night stands? lmao I'm asexual

24. What was your favorite TV program? There were a few this year! Good Omens, The Queen's Gambit, Julie and the Phantoms, Avenue 5. There were more I watched and enjoyed, but I think those stand out the most. Also, does Critical Role count? OH, The Baby Sitters Club! A lot of good stuff.

25. Do you hate anyone now that you didn't hate this time last year? Nah. I don't hate a lot of people.

26. What was the best book you read? Don't think I read anything notable this year. Don't read a lot of books, I prefer to consume stories in other media.

27. What was your greatest musical discovery? Julie and the Phantoms. Not because the music is astounding or anything, but it was very feel-good and fun. Don't think I had a lot of new music.

28. What did you want and get? D&D campaigns? Have gotten really invested in one of them in particular, it's delightful.

29. What was your favorite film of this year? Hmmm. The only one that stands out was The Old Guard. I watch more series than films. 2 hours isn't long enough for me to get properly invested AND satisfied.

31. What did you do on your birthday, and how old were you? I turned 33 and I don't know that I did anything special. I think I just chilled? Flatmates made me a nice breakfast!

32. What one thing would have made your year immeasurably more satisfying? Having the energy for essays/exams, probably. Just feeling like I actually had some accomplishments. OR LIKE. If Norway did like New Zealand and just wiped the virus out.

33. How would you describe your personal fashion concept in 2020? Pyjamas. Occasionally 'apocalypse chic'.

34. What kept you sane? My flatmates and my dad. Reliable social interaction with people I care about.

35. Which celebrity/public figure did you fancy the most? Matthew McNulty, which applies to every single year. But this year I started both a gallery website and a discord server for him, so it was a particularly good year for him.  (Special mention to Paul Spera, who I finally talked to face-to-face, through Zoom, but still.) Also I'm using 'fancy' platonically.

36. What political issue stirred you the most? Ha aha hah all of them, oh god. BLM, probably, though. That was when I still had the energy to get invested.

37. Who did you miss? So many people. Like, come on. I don't know that it was even specific people so much just... being in a group? Like, my choir gang?

38. Who was the best new person you met? Met a guy I ended up playing a LOT of board games with. We haven't really talked in a few months now tho. And there's a friend I didn't MEET this year, but I really connected with, who's also now my DM, which was really nice.

39. Tell us a valuable life lesson you learned in 2020: It's not necessarily new knowledge, but this year has really driven home the need for both community solidarity and governmental support/leadership.

40. Quote a song lyric that sums up your year: I'm alone in my apartment, that means I can do anything / I'm not wearing pants (alone in my apartment - Brian David Gilbert)

Summary: It's been a conflicted year, a lot has felt like it's been on stand-still, but there's still been some good things in there.

#real life maybe #2020 #personal

[heffrcns]

william schofield falling in love with a stenographer (part 2)

this is ready a lil’ bit earlier because my exam got cancelled lmao. i haven’t had the time to work out links yet, so part 1 will be under #gecrgemackayswrites if you search the tag on my blog!

also, i got really carried away with this part too, sorry!! so if you want another headcanon for their actual wedding, please let me know!

11th november, 1918

the horrific, merciless war had finally come to an end

and will felt a little numb, at this point, from everything he went through

but the young woman, who he thought about every day without fail, was the one thing that kept him going throughout it all

he could still hear her laugh ringing through his mind, and could still picture her wide smile every time he closed his eyes

and god, he couldn’t wait to see and hear those things again

he knew roughly where she lived back home, from the many conversations they had shared about life before the war came around

he knew that she was going have to live alone, when she finally made it back, due to her parents’ strong disapproval of her going off to help with the war

but she always took it in her stride, like she was already prepared for the next step, no matter what it had in store for her

and that was one of the many things he admired about her

and he kept it in mind to give himself strength when he needed it

so when he was finally able to get home, he of course firstly greeted his mother, before wanting to waste no time in finding her

after a teary-eyed (on both parts) reunion with his mother, he couldn’t help but gush about his love to her

“i’m gonna marry her, ma. i swear i will. and i know she made it, i can feel it”

“then go and find her, will” his mom smiled, happy that her son had found a form of happiness in it all

the journey from his home to her area was luckily only one train journey away

but the journey was long enough for him to gaze out the window, and fall into deep thought

he thought about the promise he made to her, back in the war

how he promised to keep himself alive, and how he promised to go and find her as soon as he could

his heart filled with a mixture of pride, excitement and anticipation at the fact he was close to fulfilling both of those promises

and of course, despite his gut feeling telling him she was okay, there was still the tiniest thought in the back of his mind, of what if?

what if she didn’t make it? what if he was just being hopeful?

but even then, he still felt it

he still felt, deep down in his heart, that she was alive

and he was about to go and find her after all these months apart

as soon as the train pulled into the station, he was already on his feet, ready to jump off to find her

he walked fast-paced, but was still observant of his surroundings, so not to bump into anybody

he also scanned over every face he could see, checking if she was amongst them

outside the station, he maintained his steady pace, still glancing at every face he passed

he also looked around at the buildings, and thought about how they were exactly like she described

which also reassured him that he was in the right place

will then slowed down slightly, taking in the view a bit more, noticing each small café, shop and house he was passing

there was one particular café, that really caught his eye

it seemed so familiar, yet he had definitely never been down the street before

which is when he casted his mind back, recalling how the girl he fell in love with described, what he thought must be that one, as her favourite

he noticed how the light blue painted door and the old but welcoming ‘open’ sign hanging from it matched the exact description of her favourite local coffee shop

he stopped in his tracks, thinking fondly of the stories she told him, when the café door opened

closing the door gently behind them and turning around, will’s heart and stomach simultaneously dropped

it was her - she was right there, just a few meters in front of him

and her gaze then travelled up, to start walking down the street, when it landed on him

and they both locked eyes on each other

will felt like he was in one of those cliché fairytales his mother used to read him before bed when he was younger

he also felt like the entire world stopped around him, also resembling those cliché stories from his childhood

but he didn’t care

in that moment, he only cared about her and only her

hell, that’s all he really cared about ever since he met her

to which of course she felt the same

and once she processed what was going on, she launched herself at will in a tight embrace

he hugged her back, breathing heavily from the shock he was still in, not caring that they were in the middle of the street

she then pulled away, to look at his face again, like it was the first time she ever saw it

she took in his appearance, noticing how he looked different

he wasn’t covered in dirt, or blood, or sweat - in fact, he was glowing

and the same could be said for her

will thought she was the most beautiful person he’s ever saw back in the war? well, just imagine what he thought now

her hair was neatly pinned back, her face wasn’t splattered with dirt and blood from the soldiers she had to write about, and she was smiling arguably even brighter than ever before

and all this was too much for will, so he leant down to kiss her like his life depended on it

she kissed back with just as much passion, neither of them giving a damn that they were still standing in the middle of the pathway

their foreheads then leant against each others, just like after their departing kiss all those months ago

neither of them had said a word yet, it didn’t feel necessary when so much could he said by the embraces they shared

when will did finally speak up, however, the words came out almost impulsively

he still meant it, of course, he meant it with his whole heart

and it came out barely even audible,

“marry me”

those two words had been playing over and over in his head since they separated in the trenches

he was originally going to wait, at least a little while after being reunited, until you’d both got used to not being at war anymore

but at that moment, it just felt so right

and it was her turn to start breathing heavily, as she removed her forehead from his to look directly into his eyes

“of course i will” she breathed, her smile not leaving her face the entire time, “i’ve been waiting to hear those words since i had leave you near the front line”

“then let’s do it. and then you can live with me. i don’t care where. you can come back home with me, and meet my ma, i’ve already told her all about you. or we can find a place around here, or a completely new area! i don’t care, love, as long as i’m with you i’ll go anywhere”

he was pouring his whole heart to her right then and there, making her own beat faster

“right now?” she joked, shaking her head in amusement at his enthusiasm

he chucked slightly, “oh yeah let’s just have our wedding right in the middle of the street, yeah? but what about next week? you can come home with me, meet my mother, my other family, and they can come to the wedding! it won’t be a huge one, it doesn’t need to be, bu-“

she cut off his rambling by planting another kiss on his lips, to which he definitely didn’t mind

“that sounds amazing will, i can’t wait”

he beamed at her, taking her hand in his, as they started to walk back down the street

just as they were contently strolling along, he whispered into her ear:

“i can’t wait to make you mrs. schofield, my love.”

#william schofield x reader #will schofield imagine #william schofield #william schofield headcanon #1917 #1917 movie #1917 film #1917 headcanon #1917 imagine #george mackay #gecrgemackayswrites

[boymeetsweevil]

(Welcome to) Camp Lonely Heart

Grouping: Camp Counselor!Reader x Camp Counselor!Taehyung

Word Count: ~15.6k lmao 

Warnings/Themes: walkie talkie sex + masturbation, graphic public sex in a field, descriptions throughout of breast play, 69ing, riding, fingering, creampie sorta, some bullying, some angst, concerned older brother Minho, OC is kinda flaky

Summary: It’s possible to find love in all sorts of places: In bars, in school, on apps. But what about through a walkie talkie?

Part of the Masterlist for Group 2 of the @btssmutclub Summer Project

A/N: sorry its late! tagging @classickei and @chimchurro

A noogie from his older brother is the first thing to welcome Taehyung when he arrives at the admin building for the first weekly counselor meeting. He sits through it patiently because he knows Minho means well and it’s better than those times where he just cups Taehyung’s face tenderly and says absolutely nothing. But this is why he insisted they arrive separately.

With Minho’s arm tossed over his shoulder, Taehyung makes his way into the familiar conference room. Despite the fact that this is his 3rd year as a junior counselor, the fact that the conference hasn’t changed since it was built in the 80’s still surprises him every time. The people inside it change fairly frequently, though. There’s always a steady rotation of counselors for both the boys’ and the girls’ camps on their respective sides of Lake Lonely Heart.

A smattering of people are already seated and chatting amongst themselves before the introductory meeting starts. As more people trickle in, Taehyung acknowledges them from his corner seat. Some veteran staff from the boys’ camp naturally come to his and Minho’s side of the table, greeting Minho mostly.

“How was your trip up, son,” asks one of the senior staff, Cref.

“It was good,” Minho gives a genuine smile up at Cref before giving a pointed look in Taehyung’s direction.

“Oh,” Cref’s eyes dim noticeably, “And how was your trip, Tae?”

“It was fine,” Taehyung’s answer matches Cref’s in its lack of warmth.

“I see you kept that little ponytail thing you had last summer.”

“Yeah.”

“Shame,” Cref huffs before turning to some of the other boys’ staff that arrived while he was talking and gesturing to Taehyung.

“Cref can you really talk when you’ve still got that comb-over?” The comment sends the other boys’ staff who’d been listening into a tizzy and Cref scoffs before turning on them to compensate. Meanwhile, Minho gives Taehyung a covert pat on the back.

None of the girls’ staff seemed to be watching the exchange with the exception of one girl who must be a new hire. Taehyung doesn’t recognize her face from last summer and though she’d been snoring softly when Taehyung first arrived, she looks at some of the jeering boys’ staff with a bit of muted disapproval. The look is brief because almost instantly another one of the counselors near her pulls her into another conversation. The sour tinge her features had disappears and leaves a gentle and open expression on her face as she listens to someone tell her about what to expect with her sleeper cabin.

There’s something nice about her face even though nothing specific jumps out at him as super beautiful or sexy. The soft way she smiles is subtle, almost like the turn of lips could have been a trick of the light. He wants to know what a full-blown smile would look like. Taehyung likes to think that he would have gotten up to talk to her. Eventually. If it weren’t for the camp leader entering the room with the dreaded Talking Stick.

“Alright everyone,” the camp leader shouts energetically, halting all conversations. “Veterans don’t spoil anything. Newbies, one of you raise your hand and tell me what you think this is,” she grins and wiggles the bedazzled stick in a wide circle.

Taehyung sighs and settles back further into his chair, ready to endure yet another round of icebreakers and name learning games.

“Here’s your humble abode for the next few months,” Moe grunts as she pushes the door of the cabin in. She smiles shakily before mumbling something about the paint job being so new that the door wouldn’t budge. A few hits to the door with her shoulder help it swing open.

The cabin looks nearly identical to that of Moe and Moe’s roommates. A pair of bunkbeds sit across the main room from one another. There’s some simple wooden furniture and a nice view of forest on the girls’ side of the lake in the front window by the door. The bathroom has two shower stalls and two sinks. The cabin is clearly made to hold four occupants.

“Are my roommates on their way?”

You walk in and admire the posters on the wall. They must have been left by some other counselor some number of summers ago.

“So, uh, you actually get this whole cabin to yourself.”

“Huh? Like I’ll be sleeping here by myself?”

“Yeah. I know its weird, but it’s not on purpose. The rooming system isn’t the most efficient. People fill the first cabin and then we fill the second one and on and on. When we got your answer, it was late and we’d perfectly filled 3 other cabins before this one. And since your position was the last one we filled before closing the apps, there weren’t any other people after you who could have been placed here.”

You try your hardest not to look too dismayed at your lonesome living situation. But, truthfully, one of the things that made you consider taking the position was the friends you were hoping to make on he job. The job testimonies on the Camp Lonely Hearts website mentioned that some of the best times of being a counselor were the times had in the cabin with coworkers after dark. With you being new to the city and this being the first summer in a long while where you weren’t forcing yourself into a boring 9-to-5, you wanted to take a chance on something inspiring instead. And you really wanted to make friends because city life alone was taking a toll on you. The chance to be a ‘youth leader for the young women and men of Camp Lonely Heart’ seemed like just the right thing.

Now, though, it looked like you would have to work a little harder to make the lasting connections you were expecting to fall into your lap the first night on the grounds.

“I’m sorry sweetheart,” Moe says when some of the bouncy pluck in your shoulders seems to leave you with the sigh you let out. “You’re welcome to bring a sleeping bag and sleepover in cabin 3 any time.”

“Thanks, Moe.” She leaves you to unpack with the slow setting sun.

Everything seems clean enough under your quick inspection. You take over the bathroom with your toiletries and towels. The bunk bed is less uncomfortable than you thought it would be, and there’s an outlet near your little writing desk, so you’re able to plug in and set up your boombox. There’s no wifi at the camp, and while it’s an experience you’re looking forward to, you can’t live in total silence. You did, however, bid all your friends a temporary goodbye on Facebook after explaining where you’d be for the summer.

You switch the boombox onto radio mode and extend the boosted antennae. It picks up a classics station that you unpack to. The job is over quickly given that you only had to pack a few undergarments and pairs of shorts to rotate with the t-shirts that they give to counselors so people don’t confuse some of you with campers.

When boredom starts clawing at the edges of your brain, you snoop through all the little corners and crannies you ignored when you first arrived and were busy with settling in. You don’t find much. You find a shoebox with a bunch of office supplies under the other bunk bed, a supremely large beetle carcass on your window sill, and a solar powered walkie talkie in the bottom drawer of the writing desk.

The walkie talkie obviously is the most intriguing find out of all of your finds, but you don’t see its mate in the cabin. Surprisingly enough, it powers up, but it has a low battery. You fiddle with the channels and mumble a wimpy little ‘anyone there’ into the first one. Figuring that no one is there, you lower it from your ear and move to go make your bed when the device sounds.

“Hello?”

The voice is deep and smooth. You’re so spooked by the response that the walkie talkie slips from your hand and clatters to the floor with a loud clunk. You let out a curse and bend down to pick it up only to find that the transmission was cut off from the impact. With the hopes that you can revive the device, you stick it in the bathroom window where you know it will get the most sun during the day and pray it's not broken.

Before you head to bed early, you go over your schedule and how you’re going to present yourself to the kids the next morning. It takes a while for you to memorize your schedule because your mind is slightly preoccupied,  wondering what the person on the other end must be thinking of your sudden departure.

You were worried that it would take a while to adjust to your position and that the kids would be intimidating, but quickly you realize there was nothing to worry about.

You love your girls more than you could have predicted. They took to you instantly since you were the youngest among the counselors. Even the 17-year-olds, who are the oldest campers there, flocked to you too during parts of the daily schedule that you weren’t leading. Many of the girls in high school would drag you to their table in the mess hall during dinner or the free period before lights out to ask you for school advice and questions about the more mysterious parts of life. It instills in you a strong sense of responsibility that you didn’t think was possible. You didn’t think you’d ever find teenagers endearing.

The camp itself is kind of like a hazy afternoon dream. The nature around you is beautiful and the air is crisp. If you take a 20 minute trek away from the main grounds, you stumble into the camp’s medium sized lavender field. It’s your favorite place to be at any time of the day because the air is thick with the scent of the purple flower. The first time you see it, you’re joining one of the other junior counselors, Jade, to grab some plants for craft time.

“You’re gonna trap flies like that,” Jade gestures to your slack mouth.

“Sorry, sorry. It’s just that we barely even get grass on the sidewalks at my new apartment. And this is...so beautiful.”

You can’t help it really. The sweet scent that had been coating your nose and throat since you were halfway up the trail just increased ten-fold and has stolen the place of your breath.

“Yeah, it has that effect on people. But you get used to it after working here long enough and the smell starts to fade. You might even get a little sick of it.”

You shake your head to clear it and try to fathom the idea of being sick of lavender. The rows of plants are lush, huge, and neat. You walk through the small plowed paths between each bush looking for the most fragrant patch you can find. There’s what looks like a few other counselors from the other side of the lake wandering through some nearby rows, looking for the same thing you are. You tap Jade’s shoulder when their backs are turned to you and whisper.

“They’re from the boys’ camp, right? Do you know those guys? ” Jade turns and squints into the distance before straightening up immediately.

“Oh my god, yeah, that’s Minho. He’s the yoga instructor for the boys.” Her tone takes on a wispy, dreamy quality. “He’s so nice and so cool. And, like, really funny.”

The man in question has on a shockingly bright Tiffany blue t-shirt with the sleeves rolled up to beat the heat. And perhaps showcase his sculpted arms. He looks tall and broad from your vantage point, but he doesn’t seem extraordinary at first glance. Maybe he’s really great once you get to know him.

“What about the other one?” The slightly shorter man with the tiny ponytail and coke-bottle glasses catches your attention more. Even though he’s fairly far away, you can tell he has a nice profile. Jade squints again and hums in thought.

“Mm, I don’t know. I think he’s one of the newer guys. I don’t really remember his spiel from the intro meeting. Do you know him?”

“No,” you give him one last look before squatting down and getting to work. “Just curious.”

***

“—and then move this finger here,” Taehyung nudges one of the camper’s fingers until it’s sure to make the guitar in his hands sing that way he wants. “That’s the last part of the chord. So from there you can play that song we went over in musical hour. Did you take notes?”

“Yeah.” The kid in front of him is probably no more than 16, maybe a baby-faced 17. He looks too nervous for an impromptu guitar review during free time.

“Kook, what’s the matter?”

“Nothing,” Jungkook hangs his head a little in embarrassment. “Just...what if I suck at guitar?”

“Then you suck at guitar,” Taehyung shrugs. “It’s okay to not be good at things. Especially if you’re just learning them for the first time.”

“I know, but I really need to be good at this. I have to be able to learn a song in less than a week by the time camp ends.”

“That can be kind of fast depending on the song. Why do you need to learn songs so quick?”

Jungkook’s round cheeks heat up and he eyes his peers who are playing jacks at one of the dinner tables. “There’s this girl...”

Taehyung hums knowingly and smiles down at the kid. “I see. Did you tell her you could play guitar?”

“How did you know?” Jungkook’s are wide as he eyes Taehyung like he read his mind.

“Just a guess.”

The camper nods. “I told her I’d learn her favorite song and play it for her when she gets back from vacationing with her parents. But I obviously don’t know what I’m doing.”

“Well, I can’t promise you that you’ll become a prodigy before the end of camp, but I’ll let you borrow my guitar every day as long as you promise to practice like you mean it every time.”

“If I do that, do you think I’ll at least be able to learn her song?”

“I’ll personally help you learn the song.” Jungkook’s shoulder relax instantly once he realizes he’s in good hands.

***

“Star, it’ll be fine. Really,” you try your hardest to get the tiny middle schooler to stop shaking without drawing attention to her as you bring her into the admin building. “Once your mom picks up, I’m sure she’ll understand and she’ll bring your hormones over.”

“I know,” Star’s frame shivers with the force of her hiccups, her eyes pink and watery. “But I can’t believe I forgot them at all. She didn’t even wanna let me go because she was worried I’d lose them.”

“But you didn’t lose them, sweetpea. You forgot them. Kinda different.” The little sobs, now intermittent at best, halt as she processes your logic.

You show Star to the telephone used for emergency contact or extreme cases of homesickness before stepping away to let her have some privacy with her mother. In the meantime, you let the borrowed keys of Moe’s truck swing from your fingers while you explore the halls of the admin building.

It feels odd roaming the various wings of the building when you’re not there for your Wednesday morning staff check-ins. The layout isn’t any different from those days, but you rarely get to see the other parts since you usually just make a beeline for the conference room.

The white painted cinder block walls and the linoleum tiles give you flashbacks to your own adolescent days in school. As does the un-ironic use of retro inspirational posters—though you suppose they weren’t retro when they were first put up. A few doors leading to utility closets or other, smaller conference rooms. While hunting for the staff lounge, you find a counselor you recognize from your side of the lake talking covertly with a counselor presumably from the boys’ side. Your roll your eyes when they give a disdainful stare for breaking their private moment and keep snooping.

At the end of the hall is the communal laundry room. The lines for it are usually awful on Wednesdays. You peer in just to see what it is you don’t have to deal with since you have your own unit in your little cabin. In that moment, you catch someone holding up boxers. You recognize them as that Minho guy that all the counselors seemed to have fallen for.

“Did you find any extra detergent, Tae?” He turns to you then and realizes you’re not who he thinks you are and you’re out of there as quickly as possible.

When you get back to the phone, Star is waiting patiently with no more tears and news that her mom will be dropping off her hormones and some homemade fudge.

***

Breakfast is served to the counselors at asscrack od dawn so that they can get the mess hall ready for the campers and complete the first things on the schedule for the day. Usually it's not so bad, but today’s early rise is hard for Taehyung because Minho brought some of the other counselors into their cabin the night before and they didn’t leave until late.

So when Taehyung stumbles into the mess hall looking for pancakes, he hasn’t given any thought to his morning appearance. He fixes his plate and sits across from his brother since the spot next to him is taken by Cref.

Taehyung’s wearing an old t-shirt that’s gone through many of his more experimental phases with clothes. The previously white t-shirt is now a soft apricot color after a night he was practicing with dyes a few years ago and the sleeves are thin in the places he took scissors to the shirt.

“Nice lingerie,” Cref sneers down his nose at Taehyung while he picks at his breakfast meat sleepily. “You know, I think I saw something at the mall a few weeks ago.”

A few of the guys sitting on the side laugh, some even dumbly repeat the joke under their breath as they chuckle into their breakfast.

“Fuck off, Cref.” Taehyung’s sigh comes out deeply tired. More tired than one could be from one night up too late from a noisy roommate’s friends. “It’s too early for this.”

“Yeah, Cref,” Minho pipes up, eyes locked on Taehyung’s sleep-puffy face and messy long hair. “We all know you don’t personally have the ass to pull off anything in a lingerie shop. And you definitely don’t have anyone’s ass to pull them off of either. You just sound sad, man.”

Cref stammers at Minho’s comment, not missing the subtle way the jab went a little deeper than it normally does when the two are just ripping on one another for fun. He admits defeat and sends a little nod in Taehyun’s direction. The same guys who were giggling earlier look on at Minho with some awe and are quick to jump on Cref for his non-existent ass as well.

When Minho kicks him under the table, Taehyung gives him a small thumbs up before taking his now half-eaten plate away to dump.

***

Dinners are normally spent at a table off to the side with the campers because they want to be able to treat you less like an authority figure and more like a wise older sister. But tonight you’re eating with the other counselors because you’re missing adult company. It’s been hard to have any of the bonding moments you were hoping for and there’s not much time during the day to have them when you’re trying to patch up skinned knees and guide macaroni projects.

Even though everyone is friendly enough and does try to make sure you feel included, you can’t help but notice how peripheral you are. After a few weeks, everyone has their designated dinner seat, so you were forced to pull up a chair to eat. Once the plates were cleared, you still felt a little left out. Apparently everyone makes a habit of staying up a little later than you so they can have time to unwind and talk about the day together in the other cabins. Apparently, people even share bunks occasionally so that they can visit non-roommate staff for the night.

You know you’re really not part of the group when the conversation becomes 80% inside jokes and you can’t recognize or understand a single one. The girl next to you attempts to explain the first few, but it slows the conversation down and you can tell that people are losing their patience when a story has to halt for you to catch up on nicknames or events. She stops explaining after the 4th one and you don’t really blame her. Maybe you should have spent dinners with them more. Or maybe you shouldn’t have gone to bed so early; even on the nights where you felt the exhaustion in your bones.

While everyone laughs about something someone said one night earlier in the summer, you construct a mental pros and cons list in your head. You could stick around and try to scrape through every single thing everyone says until you get all the jokes and can understand why random things like the brisket you’re eating is so funny. Or you can accept that you’ll probably have to forge these connections individually and not feel bad about getting well-deserved rest when you need it.

You opt for the latter and genuinely explain to everyone that while you had a nice time, you’re feeling a little fatigued. No one looks like they’ve caught on, but no one looks too upset to see you go either. The conversation continues to flow as you leave the dining hall, no need to fill the space you left because you didn’t really leave one. The walk from the mess hall to your cabin is short and brisk and you feel as though you’re not sure you made the right choice. You hope sleep will clear your head.

But before you get to the little fork in the foot trail that separates the other cabins from yours, you get struck with a current of rebellion. If you’re going to be lonely, you might as well make the solo time as fun as possible. So you sneak behind one of the cabins, searching for the cooler you know is wedged under the raised foundation. The first night there, someone showed you the booze that they brought in behind the camp leader’s back during the strict luggage inspection. If you recall correctly, you remember this girl saying that her boyfriend drives up during the weekly meetings and drops off new cases of beers for her to scoop up under the guise of a “bathroom break”.

When you open the cooler, there’s several 40s sitting in a bath of ice. It’s not your drink of choice, but beggars can’t be choosers. You take two for good measure and skip off to go drink on your porch with the radio blaring from inside the cabin.

***

“Tae, come on. You haven’t pulled your trunks out once since we got here.”

Minho whines fairly well for someone of his stature and it’s convincing enough with the pouty lips and the puppy eyes that Taehyung really does consider it. ‘It’ being swapping his pajamas for some board shorts and heading out to the lake for a night swim. Apparently the water will be refreshing in the thick and heavy heat in the night air. One of the other counselors had promised a smuggled beer, but Taehyung isn’t really interested in tempting fate.

“I don’t think I’m up for it,” Taehyung says while pushing Minho out the front door of their cabin. His biggest fans Jay and Dan are waiting outside and groan when Minho turns back again.

“You sure you don’t want to come? Maybe you’ll end up having fun. You never know.”

Jay whispers to Dan then. “I don’t know why he’s always so obsessed with bringing him around to stuff. It’s not like he adds anything to the mood, you know?”

It’s loud enough for Taehyung to hear, though he doesn’t think it was supposed to be heard. Minho instantly shoves Jay into Dan, who both go stumbling off the steps of the cabin porch. A moment later his eyes admit defeat and he pats Taehyung’s shoulder.

“Do you want company? I can stay in and you can, like, teach me the color wheel again.”

“Really, it’s fine. I’m gonna do some reading. I brought a few books that I’ve been wanting to crack open. And I’m kinda tired. Don’t worry about me.”

***

By the time you’ve finished half of your second bottle, you’ve migrated back into your cabin. Drunk-you is a little paranoid and worried that the camp leader will show up out of nowhere and see you intoxicated. Although, as you flop onto your bed, you’re not sure that’s such a bad thing. At least then you’d have company, you muse.

The bottle hangs from your lax fingers and you take a look at your surroundings. The screen door is facing out towards the lake and the view shows that the boys’ side of the camp is still awake with the lights from their own cabins shining like small beacons back at you. Then you look back and there’s the four walls of wood. You wonder briefly if its pine or oak before realizing you’re a little too drunk if you’re trying to distinguish between types of lumber. You do appreciate the wood’s warm tone and the natural striations that add some intrigue to the otherwise bland walls. If it weren’t for the abandoned Kiki’s Delivery Service poster on one wall facing your bed, you might think you were in a wooden version of solitary confinement.

Your head turns to rest more comfortably on your pillow and you gaze up at the little writing desk below the window that faces the woods behind the cabin. A little blurry shadow obscures some of the view of the forest and you sit up to see it better. It’s the little walkie talkie you discovered on the first day.

Drunkenness and boredom compel you to leave the softness of your mattress and stumble over to the window. The walkie talkie spent several weeks in the sun, so you figure it can’t be out of battery. You also figure it can’t have actually been destroyed from the meter it fell from your hand to the floor that one day. So you flip the power switch with blind hope and squeal excitedly when it turns on. Pressing the ‘talk’ button, you hop around the main room of the cabin and hum into the first channel. The song you’re singing is a broken version of a tune your grandfather used to always have floating in the air of his house from his record player. The melody sloshes together at certain points like the contents of the bottle you continue to take generous swigs from.

***

Taehyung’s reading in his bed, trying to tune out the sounds of distant splashing and shouting coming from his co-counselors by the lakeside. When he picks up the sound of sloppy singing, he wonders if Minho has come back to the cabin for a towel or to try to convince him to come back out again. But the door of the cabin doesn’t swing open. Taehyung is confused for about 5 more seconds before he’s eyeing the dark space under his bed suspiciously. There, underneath a sheet that fell down the crack between the mattress and the bed, is the walkie talkie that’s been collecting dust since the night before the camp session started.

He shifts an arm down behind the bed and disentangles the device from the sheets and dust bunnies. Sure enough, the broken lilting of the soft tune is coming from the walkie talkie. To say he’s surprised is an understatement. A few weeks prior, he’d turned on the walkie talkie by accident and a moment later someone’s voice sparked from the speaker. He was intrigued enough by the voice to leave the device on during the day, charging it often in case whoever was on the other side would want to tune in again.

Now, the fog of sleep rises to make room for this little mystery. He doesn’t try to speak just yet. Instead, he lets your voice continue your rendition of a few songs mashed into one from a famous jazz album. When your voice putters out because you forget where the rest of the tune’s trail leads, Taehyung smiles to himself.

“I really—hic—wish someone was there,” your whisper crackles through the speaker.

He worries a bit about scaring you off again, but the urge to speak outweighs the worry. He holds the device up to his mouth hesitantly. “Someone is.”

“Oh.” You don’t seem nearly as startled as you were last time he spoke up. “The void speaks.”

“Believe it or not, I’m not the void.”

“Well,” you hiccup more into the walkie talkie and the sound is funny and tiny. “I suppose you’re not if you say you’re not. But who’s to say the void isn’t just a consciousness trapped in a reality that won’t answer back.”

“Wow. Do you normally philosophize in the midnight hour while drinking?”

The sound of you taking a large swig from your 40 washes into his side. “How did you know I’ve been drinking?”

“Call it a hunch,” he grins up at the slats of the mattress above his own.

“Well, what are—what are you doing?”

“Me?” For some reason the question takes him by surprise. “I’m just reading.”

“Reading what?”

“N-nothing.” He stares down at the book he was reading. “It’s just an art book.”

“What kind of art?”

“Uh, Van Gogh,” he trails off, waiting for your reaction.”Van Gogh’s art.”

“Oh, that kid. Nice one.” You let out a burp, but otherwise sound completely serious.

Taehyung can’t help the laughter that takes over him. It’s not that your reaction was stupid, but it was so unexpected and nonchalantly ridiculous that his brain can only react with laughter. You grumble at him through the speaker, but don’t actually take offense. He laughs for so long that you’re silent on the other line when he finally calms down.

“Sorry,” he wipes at his eyes, “I didn’t mean to laugh at you like that. I just...I’ve never heard anyone do something like that.”

“‘s okay,” your shrug is practically audible.

“Hey, you’re not a camper from the girls’ side, are you?”

“Are you asking if I’m one of Camp Lonely Hearts’ young women?” Your voice takes on a strange lisp in attempt to sound hauty.

“Yes?”

“Well, sadly I’m not. I’m a counselor over there, though.”

“I think this is the first time I’ve talked with one of you guys this whole summer.”

Back in your cabin, you have the walkie talkie resting against your ear after having fallen back into bed. Your feet are at the wrong end of the mattress, but you don’t care because the sound of the deep voice on your little radio is soothing and pairs well with your beer exhaustion.

“Mmm, me too.”

Your breathing slows and evens out, lengthening in Taehyung’s ear. He lays the walkie talkie down then, realizing that you’re probably on the verge of falling asleep. From the sound of it, you probably fell asleep with the ‘talk’ button still activated. He switches his walkie talkie off after mumbling an awkward ‘goodnight’ and lays the device down on the ground near his bed. He falls asleep quickly that night.

*** After waking up slightly hungover but not hungover enough to be without memory of the night before, you panicked.

Whoever this mystery person was on the other end of the walkie talkie, you had babbled dark philosophical nonsense at them for a good five minutes before doing who knows what else. You were so embarrassed you could hardly swallow down the overlooked eggs they served you for breakfast that morning. Being on kitchen duty didn’t help the upset stomach. You felt nauseated by your dopey antics and the smells of the meat and eggs you were frying for the campers’ breakfast.

The only thing that settled your stomach was the resolute plan you made to apologize to the mystery person over your lunch break. You hoped to all that was good in the world that the other person wasn’t a camper that was so scarred by your actions that they already reported you to the camp leader. Although, something about their tone when they asked you if you were a camper the night before made you think they were a counselor like you. It was the nerves and the hint of disappointment that even drunk-you picked up on. Nerves and disappointment about what, though?

With all your musing, you’re spaced out during physical education period and get brained by a volleyball. It’s actually a blessing in disguise because it means you get sent home and don’t have to work the dinner shift. The walk back to your cabin is full of you patting the tender skin of the back of your head while you practice your explanation for why your dignity is still actually intact and why you’re not as weird as you may have seemed last night.

But when you get back to your cabin, you find that you’re more nervous of the idea that no one picks up than the idea that they do pick up to give you a piece of their mind. Still, you switch the device on because you want to explain yourself. The first channel crackles to life again and you press the ‘talk’ button.

***

“I’m telling you, if these kids would just put their phones down, their spinal alignment would be so much better. You ever looked at their little shoulders? They looks like fucking mole hills. Makes me wanna cry.”

Minho is trying as best he can to remain still despite how much the topic of young people’s posture riles him up. Taehyung appreciates the effort, though, as it makes Minho’s silhouette much easier to capture on his canvas. On nights when there isn’t much to do, Taehyung takes out his paints and sometimes gets his older brother to be his model. In exchange, Minho gets to rant to a whole person about the dangers of office chairs on the coccyx or whatever the sexy new topics are in his chiropractors' digest.

Tonight is one of those nights and Taehyung’s managed to fill the canvas with three different poses and has also learned why he shouldn’t ever cross his legs for extended periods of time or diss nursing shoes until he’s tried them. But before he can ask Minho to find another position to hold, the walkie talkie by the foot of his bed fires up; on from when he turned it on as soon as he got back into his cabin for the day.

“Hello? It’s me,” your voice calls tentatively out into the air.

“Ooooh, who’s that?” Minho’s eyes turn into little semi circles as he grins at Taehyung. The mocking coos are inaudible to you because Taehyung hasn’t pressed the ‘talk’ button and he’s glad for that too. He quickly flips Minho the bird before scooping up the little device and leaving to sit on the porch.

Time stretches thin as you wait for an answer. The seconds are long. Long enough that your face is hot with unnamed shame and you’re reaching to switch the device off when—

“Hey. Sorry about the delay.”

“Hey!” You pull back automatically before remembering you’re the one who initiated the call. No backing down now. “So, I’m—I’m sure you remember the other night.”

“I do,” he snickers and recalls the way you’d bumbled around verbally. “Are you back for a repeat performance?”

“Uh, no. I actually wanted to apologize for being so weird yesterday. I was kinda drunk and I didn’t think about the fact that I might be bothering someone by turning this thing on and talking into it.”

“You didn’t bother me.”

“I didn’t?” You were just about to venture into the next part of your prepared speech, but now that you don’t need to, you’re at a loss for words. “That’s...good to hear. Are you sure? I can be kind of a lot when I’m drunk.”

“I really didn’t mind. It was a nice change from—I mean, it was funny. And nice.”

“Nice? I can’t remember the last time someone said I was nice.” The laugh behind your voice is subtle, but it sweetens the tone of your already pleasant words until Taehyung is smiling again.

“Glad to be of service, then,” he shoves a hand in his pocket.

“You sound nice too,” you blurt out. The sound of your feet hitting the floor in a little dance of embarrassment are thankfully too soft to reach Taehyung’s ears. “I mean—”

“Thanks. So,” he clears his throat softly, “do you like jazz?”

From that night on, you and Taehyung begin talking with one another via walkie talkie. Every night, a few hours before sunset, one of you will send out a little message to the other. Nearly like clockwork. Nearly because there are some nights where the conversation gets put on the back burner. Those were unusual nights, though. On one of those nights, the older counselors wanted to host an ABBA karaoke night with some of the older campers in the dining commons and you couldn’t miss it because 1) the 17-year-olds really like you, and 2) you can completely body an ABBA song despite the fact that you were never an avid fan growing up. Another one of those nights Taehyung couldn’t make it because Minho dragged him out of the room to play flashlight tag in the woods. He didn’t even have time to change out of his paint-stained shirt, much less shoot you a quick warning about not being able to talk. Although you didn’t like being left hanging, when he explained why he was busy the following night, you completely understood. Because, really, how often does an adult flashlight tag opportunity come up?

Even still—on nights like those you both miss each other’s voices.

99% of the time, though, you both make time for talking with one another. When you both are in, you talk about anything and everything. From family and life outside the camp to joke competitions that have Minho snorting to himself from under the covers even though he’s supposed to be asleep. The number of movie and book recommendations you’ve swapped only to find out that the other person was a fan is almost too high to not make you wonder if you’re actually stuck in some cliché young adult summer novel.

These days Taehyung’s cheeks hurt from smiling so much. Usually he doodles what he thinks you could look like in his Moleskin while ignoring Minho’s weird soft looks or wiggly eyebrows. Sometimes he’s not up for sharing his cool new digital pal with his brother and he’ll migrate outside, to the back of the cabin, and endure the bugs so he can enjoy your voice in peace. The only downside is that Minho won’t let him live it down. The countless jokes about his new lady friend only get worse when Minho slips up one breakfast and lets all the other counselors know that Taehyung’s been avoiding the group to talk to you. The raucous applause was one thing, but Cref’s fake pride that Taehyung managed to capture female attention was enough to have him kicking Minho under the table for his indiscretion. But it wasn’t all that bad.

You’re fairly content with the way things are as well. You’ve managed to get your boombox radio to play a local ‘best of’ jazz station and it reminds you of your myste when you’re not talking with him. It's only until you catch yourself trying to recall Taehyung’s appearance that you realize what you’re missing. That is, you don’t know what he looks like and that makes you feel odd. In theory, people don’t need to know what their friends look like. Pen pals and mutuals on social media sites don’t always know what their internet friends look like and still manage to talk for years and feel a real sense of closeness. But you keep wondering. Is he tall, is he brunet, is he pretty?

The thought keeps plaguing you until one day the question just tumbles out of your mouth. It’s a Tuesday, and you’re getting ready for bed because you have to be up earlier on Wednesdays for the weekly meetings. Taehyung had just been telling you about a flip that the arts director did that morning off the pier. It was a grisly story of broken legs and nose bleeds and how Taehyung  became both the arts and music counselor until further notice. You’d been trying to listen diligently but you couldn’t help drifting off. You’re trying to picture Taehyung’s face solely off the timber of his voice when that same voice blares a little louder than normal in your ear.

“Yo, did you fall asleep on something?”

“How tall are you?”

“Uh,” is all you get back from him. And it’s honestly an appropriate response to such a blunt change of subject.

“Sorry, that was kinda rude of me. It’s just that I realized that you’re probably the closest person to me in this whole camp and we’re not even on the same side of the lake...I just realized I don’t even know your name. And I definitely wouldn’t be able to pick you out in a crowd.”

“That’s—that’s true,” he gnaws thoughtfully on his lip and Minho raises his surprised and bespectacled gaze from a physical rehabilitation manual. “I’m Taehyung.”

He’s not sure how he managed to spend weeks talking with you nearly every night only to never ask for your name. When he was alert and talking with you, he felt no gaps, he didn’t even think to ask. But, Taehyung thinks, maybe the thought came to him when he was on the fuzzy border of sleep and wakefulness. When he was most open and sometimes the yearning slipped out. He doesn’t say any of that to you, of course. He just listens to you reply with your own name and repeats it to you until you’re praising him for the way it sounds on his tongue. Minho makes fun of him and whispers your name in a squeaky voice that’s supposed to be Taehyung’s.

“I like your name,” you chirp. You’re so happy to have one more piece to the puzzle that is Taehyung that you almost forget your original question. “So, Taehyung, what do you look like.”

“I’m 5’10.5,” he starts. “And I have...blond hair. All my friends tell me I have a perfect face–”

“Is that so?”

“–and a great chest-to-waist ratio. I don’t wear makeup, b-but if I did my MAC shade would be NW30.” Minho narrows his eyes at Taehyung, but the younger man simply turns away.

“That’s nice?” You sound a bit baffled by the description as well, but you try to take it in stride and picture it.

The resulting image in your mind isn’t exactly what you expected, but you guess you can’t be surprised that he looked different from how you imagined when you didn’t even know his name. You rattle off your own appearance, though not quite so awkwardly. When you’re finished, you wonder what he imagines with the description you gave. What does he think, you wonder. Do I sound nice?

Taehyung, on the other hand, realizes instantly who you are. You’re the girl that was falling asleep during the first meeting. He remembers watching your head lolling back and forth during the icebreaker and trying to contain his laughter when the camp leader shouted loud enough to wake you. He remembers your boisterous laughter at the third weekly meeting when someone thought it would be funny to round up 5 squirrels and release them into the conference room to watch the mayhem unfold. If he’s being honest, he’s actually more excited with the connection he’s made now. He’s glad it’s you. It makes sense.

“Well, I guess this will make tomorrow’s meeting a little more fun, right?”

“Huh,” he snaps out of deep thought. “Why?”

“Because now we can talk to each other in person.” Your voice is brimming with excitement and it’s easy to hear even through the half mile of distance and the static-y connection. “I’ll be able to find you now.”

“Yeah,” his voice trails off guiltily but you don’t catch onto it because you’re busy smoothing out your sheets.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, Taehyung,” you bid him goodnight with extra giddy emphasis on his name now that you can actually use it. It’s cute and should probably bring a smile to his face, but as he turns off the device, he can only purse his lips in frustration.

The sounds of sheets rustling remind him of his brother’s presence and he lets out a sigh, waiting for the lecture that’s about to come.

“So,” Minho begins slowly, “How come the person you described was cousin Jin when she asked you what you looked like?”

“In my defense, I...”

“In your defense, what? I’m really curious about what your explanation is.”

“I didn’t want her to be disappointed. And no one’s ever been disappointed by Jin’s looks, so when I got nervous I just gave her his greatest hits.”

“I heard. The foundation thing was a little much.”

“Yeah,” he sighs.

“Why do you think she would be disappointed?”

“I don’t know. I guess if for some reason the appearance stuff was important to her, I thought it made sense not to leave things to chance. In case that would mess things up.”

“But what if, to her, lying is even worse than having an ‘ugly’ friend,” Minho asks with air quotes included.

“Then...I fucked up big time.” Taehyung holds his head in his hands for a few minutes before eventually looking up helplessly. “But I didn’t do it to spite her or anything.”

“Did you really just do it because you thought she would be disappointed? She doesn’t sound that shallow to me, and I don’t know her like you do.”

“Yes and no,” he groans and tosses himself onto the mattress. “I mean, I wanted to seem good in her eyes. Someone she might...like?”

“Someone she might like? She does like you.”

“Someone she might,” Taehyung eyes Minho softly, “want to be with.”

“Ah,” he nods sagely. “So it’s like that.”

“It’s like that.”

“Then you know what you need to do.”

“Yeah. I’ll tell her tomorrow. During the meeting.”

***

Taehyung figures that the idea of preserving his friendship with you being so important will make confessing his lie to you super easy. But when he lumbers into the meeting room the following morning at 6:30, the nerves take over. He grows silent. He stays silent when you come in looking too chipper for a normal morning meeting. And when you spend the majority of the meeting studying the face of every counselor from the boys’ side of the camp, looking for the man described to you on the phone yesterday and not finding him. And when the meeting officially adjourned and you’re standing around hoping for some sort of explanation. Silent when he eventually slips out while Minho is in the bathroom and someone has started chatting you up.

He knows that eventually he’ll have to face you—figuratively speaking. The floor will probably have a trench plowed into it from where he paces the area in front of his bunk anxiously. Sundown is soon and normally you’d be tuning in at this time to see what his plans are for the night and talk about each other’s days. But as the minutes tick by, his walkie talkie stays quiet. Minho pins him with an expectant look before mumbling something about going to go hang out in someone else’s cabin. Maybe he thought Taehyung would benefit from the privacy, but the empty space on the other side of the room just makes him more aware of how the ball is in his—and only his—court. He picks up the walkie talkie and presses the ‘talk’ button.

“You there?” When he gets no response at first, he presses again. This time, he just calls your name pleadingly. Surprisingly, you pick up.

“Is this Taehyung?”

“What? Yes, who else—”

“Or maybe this is Mr. tiny waist dorito face SPF 30. Can’t tell who’s who these days.”

He ducks his head. The smile in his voice is self-deprecating. “It’s me. Taehyung.”

“What can I help you with this evening?” Your voice is sharper than it normally is, but subtly so. He almost wants you to just yell at him instead.

“I just wanted to say sorry.”

“For friend-catfishing me?”

“Yes. For lying and for not coming clean at the meeting when I first saw you.”

“Why didn’t you say anything at the meeting,” your voice wavers a bit, traitorous in the way it shakes. “I was looking for you.”

“I know. I really was gonna tell you. You can ask Minho. But I just got scared all of the sudden. Like as soon as you saw me, you’d regret the decision to ever talk with me.”

“Tae, I wouldn’t do that. I really...I care for you. Something like that doesn’t just go away because what you pictured in your head isn’t 100% reality.”

Your words are simple, but he feels comfort from them. The grip he had on the plastic of the walkie talkie loosens significantly and he lets out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding.

“I still haven’t been completely honest with you, yet.”

“What is it now. Do you even work here?”

“No, no,” he chuckles and the sound drives you to chew on your thumb. “When you asked me what I looked like that night, I described my cousin to you.”

“Yes, ok, we’ve established that you’re not really Mr. Dorito head. What else is there,Taehyung, you’re making me nervous.”

“Hear me out.” You huff but otherwise settle for tapping your foot rapidly to channel the nerves productively. “I told you that I did that because I thought you wouldn’t want to be friends with me. But that’s not the only reason.”

“Okay,” you trail off.

“I did it because I thought maybe if you thought I was handsome, it would make it easier for you to, uh, return the feelings I have for you. I...like you. In a like-like way.”

“I see.”

Now it’s your turn to stretch the pause out until Taehyung’s fisting tufts of his hair in his free hand. The walkie talkie is probably going to leave a red imprint on his face from how hard he’s pressing it to his cheek, but he doesn’t even register the discomfort.

“I really don’t like that you lied to me,” you begin. “But, since I really like-like you, you can be on probation.”

The sound of exaggerated gagging sounds from the entryway of the cabin where Minho has been eavesdropping for the last five minutes. Taehyung doesn’t even bother to chastise his older brother for getting into his business and instead lets laughter bubble passed his lips.

Not too much changed after the night you both confessed to one another. Supposedly that’s a sign that you had a good foundation for your romantic relationship. But there are little changes and they’re noticeable. Much to Minho’s chagrin.

Most notably to everyone involved, since that night, the tone of the walkie talkie conversations shifted. Now your voices have become a little more hushed and Taehyung absolutely refuses to pick up the device unless he’s alone, whining until Minho leaves the cabin or is truly asleep. If the talks go on late enough, midnight moonlight lays a forlorn, whispered feel over you both and things become a competition for who can be the mushiest. The air is made of breathy laughs that bleed into sighs and unironic use of ‘No, you hang up first’. It’s all so rosy and the happiness you feel starts to stain your cheeks and smile. The other counselors notice too. A few give you meaningful looks like they’ve caught on. Moe, especially, looks proud to see that the dour cloud that was hovering over you has dissipated some. Others don’t quite have it right. They ask you if you’ve been sneaking weed into the camp. You don’t give up your secret for either of them. Mainly because you could face disciplinary action, but also because you don’t want the next time there’s a meeting to be turned into a spectacle. It’s not lost on you that you still don’t know what Taehyung looks like. But you were being sincere when you said that you didn’t need that to care for him.

Still, the curiosity wears on the edges of your consciousness every now and then. You can’t quite ignore the idea that you guys are sort of dating—that you may have a boyfriend at the end of this summer—and you still can’t tell when you’re in a room with him. Despite this, you feel a visceral attraction to him growing from what was a gentle simmer to a boil the longer you exchange pillow talk with him. At the right moments of the night, your hands itch to feel the solid weight of him, of any part of him. To have something other than the intangible rasp of his voice when he spills his feelings to you over the walkie talkie.

***

The Sunday night before the last week of camp finds you, of course, on the walkie talkie. Unlike all the previous conversations, there’s a bittersweetness that you’re trying to swallow down. You’ll both be busy with preparations for the end of the summer festival where both sides of the camp meet—this year on the girls’ side of the lake—to celebrate a summer well spent. This means you won’t have the time or the energy to talk to one another before the big day. If it wasn’t for the fact that you still hadn’t met up properly, you wouldn’t be bemoaning the brief absence so much. But with the end of the camp session rapidly approaching, questions linger in the air. It’s not clear what happens to what you have with Taehyung once you’re not close enough to use walkie talkies to talk with one another every night. So you cherish every minute you get with the man, even if its just his voice.

“I wish we could just keep talking forever,” you whine half into your pillow, half into the balmy night air. You’re trying your best to combat the heat with your sheets kicked down to your ankles and your lightest sleep clothes on. The tone you use is one you might normally be a little ashamed of, but you’re feeling extra needy.

“I wish we could have worked on the same side of the lake,” Taehyung counters after a quick glance toward Minho’s bed. Still unmade and empty because the man in question went to go smoke on the dock. “This whole separating the camp for the kids’ sake is dumb sometimes.”

“Yeah. I wish I could’ve seen you teaching songs to the kids on the guitar.”

“I wish I could see your face while you listen to the songs I rec’d you.”

“And I wish I could see your paintings.” Taehyung turns back to see the canvas he’d filled yesterday with paint swatches, trying to remember the exact hue of your skin from the first meeting in which he knew you were you.

“I wish we could just see each other.”

“Me too.”

“And touch each other.”

Your mouth drops open wide. He’s been flirty in his own way, but never so outright.

“Oh my god, Taehyung, are you drunk?”

“I don’t drink,” he replies simply. Your cheeks feel too warm and you have to pat you face to give yourself a semblance of control.

It’s not that you haven’t entertained the idea of being intimate with Taehyung, but it was a bit difficult when you still couldn’t match a face to his name. Perhaps that was just a ‘you’-issue, but it frustrates you and, until now, kept you from getting very far with your fantasies. But with his voice in your ear that night, you think maybe you could get there. Already your skin is taking on a feverish heat, sweat starting to prick certain areas.

“What would you do if we could. H-how would you start?”

He palms himself deftly over his shorts and lets his eyes fall shut in indulgence. “Are you in bed?”

“Yes.” Your breath is bated. A hand trails down the top you’re wearing to lift the hem up, exposing the dewy skin of your torso. You pick at the elastic waistband playfully, eager to hear what Taehyung’s plans are for you.

“What are you wearing?”

It’s a benign question, but it still speeds up your heartbeat. His voice is somehow silken in its depth while tugging raggedly at something inside you.

“Um. I’m wearing a camisole and some shorts.”

He hums appreciatively. “Well, first, I’d take off your top. I’d pull the straps off and push the rest down slowly. I’d kiss your neck and your skin all over. Until I get to your breasts.”

Your fingers slide under your shorts to find the crotch of your panties. A growing wet spot greets the searching pads of your fingers. “And then what?”

“Easy, easy.” He smirks. “I’d take my time on you. I bet they’d feel so nice in my hands. Probably soft and warm. I’d put my mouth on them, lick them, suck on them. I’d pinch your nipples until they’re hard and you’re moaning.” Sure enough, a moan floats up through the speaker on Taehyung’s end. “Then I’d kiss your stomach and your hips and then I’d get your shorts off. Are you wearing panties?”

“I am, yeah.”

“Shame,” he pouts. “I’d take those off too. I’d kiss your thighs and then I’d kneel between your legs and I’d taste you. Get you all over my tongue.” His erection throbs with the image and he has to squeeze himself at the base to keep his cool. With his words momentarily halted, you jump in.

“All that sounds nice, but I think I’d like you under me more.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah. I want you on your back on the bed and I want you naked. And then I want to sit on your face. I wanna grind on your mouth for a bit and then I want to get you in my mouth too.” His breath hitches sharply in your ear. From the sound of it, he’s stroking himself slowly and leaning on and off the ‘talk’ button. “I want to feel you in my throat. I want to gag around you while I stroke you.”

Taehyung’s whines are high as he fights the urge to fuck into his hand quickly and chase the high he feels pulsing under his skin. “Are you—ngh—are you touching yourself?”

“Yes, but I wish it was you. I’ve got my fingers inside, but it’s not enough when I could have you do it. I want you to stretch me out. I wanna ride you after. I’m gonna ride you one day for real.”

“Can’t wait for that day,” he sighs, tossing his head back.

Taehyung spits into his hand to aid the glide. His hand moves quickly over his length, under the fabric of his bottoms. The slick sounds show up in the background noise of your cabin, egging you on. You bring your fingers to the apex of your lips and ghost them over your swollen clit. The first touch has so much anticipation behind it and has your back bowing off the mattress. Like a feedback loop, your moans set Taehyung’s hand in action and trigger his groans, which bring trickle after trickle of arousal down to wet your hand.

“I bet you’d feel so good. You sound so wet, god. You’d probably squeeze my dick so tight and good.”

“What would you do,” you gasp into the little radio, rolling a nipple under your satiny top. “Tell me what you’d do while I sit on your face.”

“I’d fuck you with my t-tongue. And I’d give some attention to your ass. It would probably look so good from where you’d be sitting. Bouncing on me while I fuck your mouth.”

“Fuck, Tae. I want you so bad.”

“I know,” he hisses through gritted teeth. “Add another finger for me and play with your clit with your other hand. I want to hear you come. Be loud for me.”

“I’m so close. I’m—”

As soon as you heed his instructions and add another finger, you’re able to re-angle your hand and hit a sensitive spot along your walls. The sudden onslaught of pleasure makes your volume increase by double. Taehyung’s erection jumps at the sound of your orgasm.

“Did you come?”

Your heaving breaths through the speaker are answer enough. He soldiers through, trying to catch up to you. So you help him along.

“If I were with you, I’d hold your dick right on my tongue so I can taste all of it when you come. Or maybe you want to come inside me. To fill me up and get me all sticky?”

“Fuck,” he grunts one, twice and then his mouth drops open as he spurts over his hand. The thick white of his orgasm leaks through the gaps of his fingers to make a mess. His body tenses with a few of the aftershocks before he flops bonelessly into his pillow. “I can’t feel my toes.”

“I don’t think I’ll be able to walk for a while either.”

Taehyung pouts up at the top bunk. “If we were on the same side of the lake, we could have just done this in the same bed. Then at least we’d be immobile together.”

“How romantic.”

“Hey, there’s nothing wrong with taking a lazy day off.”

“Maybe not normally. But with the festival coming up, I don’t think we really have that choice.”

“That’s true.”

“But,” the smile is audible in your voice, coy in its sing-song tone. “The next meeting is coming up soon. And we can maybe see each other there.”

“Yeah, we can.” Sleepiness makes his eyelids heavy, but he fights it as best we can. “I wanna see you so bad. Wanna hold you.”

“We can be really brave and hug in the parking lot outside the admin building.”

“I’d swim across the lake if it meant that was the fastest way to see you.”

“Aww. You’re such a sap when you come.”

“Only for you,” he mumbles. His cheek presses into his pillow as he loses his battle against sleep.

By the time Wednesday rolls around, you’ve been swamped with preparations for the festival. When you’re not busy avoiding paper cuts while designing decorations for the mess hall, you’re fighting off campers who want you to spoil the movie that the boys have chosen for the group as a whole to watch together. You go to bed at night without word from Taehyung, but you’re too tired and too familiar with the work he’s most likely doing to feel upset about it.

You’re so busy and your mind is so full that you don’t even realize that you should be looking for Taehyung when you go to sit down in the conference room. It’s only when you’re zoning out while the camp leader gets progress reports from the boys’ side that you realize you haven’t heard his voice in several days and you’re still not hearing it during the meeting. So you tap your fingers and wait for the meeting to adjourn. And as soon as it does, you make a beeline for Minho. Despite never having spoken with him directly, you’ve heard enough about him in and out of meetings to know what he looks like. Though, even if you hadn’t heard anything from your fellow counselors, you’d heard enough about him from Taehyung. If you listen carefully, you can almost hear similarities in the way that he and Taehyung talk. You suppose that’s what happens with siblings.

“Hi,” you greet him when there’s a lull in the conversation between him and some older counselor from the boys’ side.

“Hi, yourself.” Minho’s eyes widen as he registers your voice. It’s the only part of you he has direct experience with, but he has quite a lot of experience with it. He takes in your appearance with a grin, happy to finally meet the person who’s ensnared his baby brother’s affections.

“We’ve never met before, but my name is—”

“I know who you are. I hear Taehyung talk on the phone with you every night.”

“E-every night? Like even Sunday night?”

“Uhh,” his eyebrows raise at the sudden question. “No, actually. Not Sunday night. I was staying at someone else’s cabin. Why?”

“No reason. Listen, I just wanted to ask you if you knew where Tae was. I was planning on finally meeting with him face to face, but that...didn’t happen. And there’s not much time left.”

“I mean, there’s always after the summer. You both live in the city.”

You give him a non-committal noise that he doesn’t really like the sound of, but he doesn’t say anything. He’s not about to butt into his brother’s relationship just because he’s older. Even if it seems like you’re maybe not on the same page about what happens after camp ends.

“Well, he’s not pulling another fast one on you if that’s what you’re worried about. He told me not to tell you, but he got sick off bonfire weenies last night. So he’s probably still at home shitting his pants while he makes banners for the festival.”

“Thanks for that.” You blink away the image Minho’s words bring up and focus on the task at hand. “So I guess I probably won’t see him until the actual day of, then.”

“Probably. Since he’s covering the old art director’s tasks in addition to the musical stuff, he’s pretty swamped and this hot dog thing might set him back a bit. He definitely wants to see you, though.”

Minho tries his best again not to overstep and reveal too much. Not about the rampant diarrhea, but about the way Taehyung’s been scribbling frantically in notebooks for tasks that weren’t assigned to him for the fest. Nor does he tell you about the 3 a.m. guitar sessions. Or the tender way he sees Taehyung pick up the walkie talkie sometimes, holding it in his hand as thoughtfully as someone can when running on 5 hours of sleep.

                                                    (Festival Day)

“Come on, we’re gonna miss the concert!”

A camper pulls you by the wrist from the small station where face painting was being held to the center of the makeshift festival grounds where a stage has been set up.

People have been pulling you around since the wee hours of the morning. By now you’re used to just letting your body follow the person pulling you, but the slight twinge in your wrist is starting to worry you. You replace your wrist with your hand and the camper merely pulls you along harder. There’s already a large amount of campers and counselors from both sides of the lake surrounding the stage where some performances are about to take place. Somehow the 11-year-old holding your hand manages to weave you both through the bodies until you’re only a few feet from the platform.

After a juggling act done by two of your favorite campers, a lovely comedy routine where Moe roasted her ex-husband Cref, and a trio of high school yo-yo experts, the prep for the final performance begins. Apparently, Camp Lonely Heart had an anthem that all the campers learned in their music periods so they could all sing together during the final days of the summer. Since you were never present for the music sessions, you didn’t really know there was a song. Luckily for you, Jade gave you a sheet with the lyrics printed on them earlier that morning. You didn’t have any time to memorize them, but you got a good look and they seemed like pretty typical camp lyrics.

You spot Minho making his way to the front of the stage easily. He’s got a small glittery sign that says “That’s my little brother” and a few of the guys around him snicker when he waves it at the counselor and camper on stage. The words on the sign are slow to register with you, so it takes a moment for you to put two and two together to get Taehyung. But you do. And when you do, all you can hear is your own blood rushing in your ears and all you can see is him.

He’s seated with a guitar resting casually in his lap. His hair is long. Longer than you imagined it would be. It’s also lighter than you thought it would be based solely off Minho’s own dark chestnut locks. He’s handsome, though. With the honeyed skin and the large, expressive eyes behind vintage frames to offset the manly geometry of his other features. The young boy next to him on stage must say something nice or cute, because his whole face lights up. You marvel at the boxy shape of his mouth while he laughs.

In the background noise, you hear the camper, Jungkook, make a little speech about this summer and camaraderie and how long it took for him and Taehyung to prepare this original arrangement of the Camp Lonely Heart anthem you’re about to hear. But it all sort of washes in one ear and out the other. Instead you’re watching Taehyung bounce his foot with pre-show nerves and smile occasionally at what the other counselor says. Then he’s being handed the mic and he’s looking out into the audience. You lock eyes after a few beats, and he holds your gaze like he’s trying to see if you know who you’re looking at. Maybe it’s your awestruck expression. Or maybe it’s the stupid smile on your face when his voice comes through the mic and you’re hearing the voice you’ve grown to love pour through something other than shitty walkie talkie speakers. But either way, his back becomes a little straighter while he greets the crowd and tells them he hopes they like the song.

Everything after that is kind of a blur. You don’t sing along and instead watch Taehyung sing back up to Jungkook’s pretty tenor stylings. Minho was screaming when the song ended and threw some snipped sunflowers wrapped in cellophane onto the stage at Taehyung and Jungkook’s feet. In that chaotic moment of applause, you slip out the crowd after making sure Taehyung’s eyes are on you. The path you make is clear: a beeline straight behind the cabins on the trail that leads through the small foothills. With the festival going on and all the campers in one place, counselor supervision has to be tight. No campers allowed past these parts.

After giving him a few minutes to catch up, you can hear his footsteps are close behind you. The trek is short and you come up to step past the gates that open into the camp’s lavender field. It’s been a while since you last visited it, but the smell is just as fragrant and lovely as it was the first time. Your heart rate slows down slightly. Anticipation makes everything in you coil taut, full of sharp and tiny vibrations. You feel giddy. When his footsteps thud softly and finally behind you, you release your breath and turn around.

“It’s you.”

“Me,” he confirms with his palms open like an offering. An offering that you take immediately.

Your launch yourself into his open arms and he huffs as he takes the impact. The hug is tight like you’re worried he’ll turn into mist if you’re not careful. His arms are sturdy around you and he pulls you in even tighter so he can get closer. He runs the tip of his nose along your temple, revelling in the way the summer sun mingles with the scent of your soap and you. It’s a small detail but it’s exciting. Here you are, in the flesh, in all your glory. Your arms and bare legs are covered in small splatters of dried paint from the last minute changes you had to make to some of the decorations this morning. And your counselor’s t-shirt has a few rips and frays in the seams from all the wear and tear it got over the summer. The flyaways in your hair and the way you sway as you hold him are all catalogued. Even in this more life-worn state, he can’t stop looking at you.

You pull back after a long while with your heart still beating in your throat. There were so many things you planned on doing when you first met Taehyung for the first time, but now you’re overwhelmed. Perhaps it’s because, in the back of your mind, you’re worried about time. It feels very fairytale-like, the way you only managed to come face to face on a special occasion. Like a good dream that will come to an end at the beep of an alarm or a fantasy that collapses into tatters at the stroke of midnight. You try to remind yourself that you’re not in a fairytale. This is real life and you have more than midnight because you have the internet and public transportation. But is that enough? You shake the thoughts out of your head, trying to focus on the here and now because it may be all you have.

“I liked your song,” you finally say. Both his hands come up to cup your face.

“Thanks. I practiced a lot for you.”

“It paid off.”

He takes a deep breath and accepts your compliment robotically before letting his eyes flit back down to your upturned mouth. “Can I kiss you,” he sighs.

“Please.”

The kiss doesn’t actually start for quite a few moments. As soon as he has your permission, then he decides to take his time. Your eyes are nearly closed and he admires the pretty shadow your eyelashes cast on your cheeks. Impatience scratches at your nerves, but you try to go with the flow. He tilts your head in his hands like he’s calculating the best angle to kiss you from, knowing he’s driving you crazy from the little frustrated huffs you let out. Chuckling, he ghosts his lips over yours once before fully pressing forward.

As soon as your lips move together for the first time, you both let out twin sighs. Instantly, like a choreographed dance, arms and hands move in tandem to bring each other closer. You experiment with the long hair that flirts with the back of his neck before following its path and dipping your fingers beneath the collar of his shirt. He responds with large hands spreading over the small of your back, fingertips digging in before lifting and then digging in again like a game of  practicing restraint.

You press your chest to his in an effort to get closer to him and unwittingly tease him with the promise of more unexplored softness under your clothes. He opens your mouth up with his own and nudges a subtle rhythm against your tongue. You moan and he mirrors the sound earnestly.

“I don’t think we can make it to the cabins,” he mumbles against your mouth.

“That’s fine,” you lay both hands on his chest and enjoy the firmness you find before pushing him back towards the tall rows of lavender. “I don’t need a bed if you don’t.”

“You’re something else.” He pulls back then with a wet sound. His lips are slightly puffy and shiny from kissing you and you grapple with the urge to bite them. You lose the battle and he shivers at the feel of you nipping at him. “Fuck.”

Once he and you have stumbled far enough back amongst the fragrant bushes and you find a soft enough patch of flattened lavender, you lower yourself to your hands and knees. He scrambles to sit beside you before immediately pulling you back in. You straddle his waist and rest some of your weight on his thighs while you peel off your shirt and bra. His hands smooth over the curve of your side once the skin is exposed, noting the way you arch into his touch. With an inquiring look, your hands move to the fly of his cutoffs. He lays back and then lifts his hips, impressively with you still seated on his lap, to pull his bottoms down and off. You do the same with yours and return to your perch as fast as possible.

Taehyung’s fingers find the soaked center of your panties and you rock your hips against the heel of his palm when he wriggles a finger in experimentally. He lets out a low appreciative whistle at how wet you are. You get wetter still when he grinds up into your clit to get you to lose some of the control you’ve garnered since leading him to the field. The feeling forces you to lean your hands on his abdomen, fingers fisting in his shirt.

“I want you inside me,” your moan shudders with the rhythm of the little circles you gyrate onto his long fingers. “I wanna ride you like I promised.”

“Are you sure you’re ready? We have time until we need to go back for clean up.”

“I know, but I want you to fuck me a couple of times before that happens.”

“I don’t have a condom, though.”

“Are you clean?”

“Yeah...You?”

“Yes,” your mouth drops open when he scrubs at a particularly sensitive spot on your slick walls. “And I’m on the pill. If you want, we could...”

“If you don’t mind.”

“I want it,” you assure him.

He takes off his shirt while you massage your breasts and take in more of his body now that it’s on display. The long hair framing his face falls prettily in his eyes after the shirt displaced it. Once it’s off, he pulls your panties to the side to admire the crystalline sheen that coats your lower lips. You shoo his fingers out of the way and pull the fabric to a more ideal angle before lowering yourself onto his length. The skin of his erection is hot to the touch and parts your lips easily. Your hips move in stuttering pushes forward to bump your clit against the swollen head.

“Oh, fuck,” his hands fly up to comb through his bangs. “God, this—you’re so sexy.”

“You are too. I don’t think I can wait any longer.”

With that, you raise up just enough to grip his length and line him up with your entrance. Instantly you realize his girth is a bit of a challenge, so you’re not as quick as you’d like when you take him in. But the slick aids things and your pelvises are snuggly slotted together after a few moments and some deep breaths. Taehyung’s hand flies to the slight bulge in your lower belly, enjoying the way he seems to fill you already.

You rest your hands on his ribcage again and get your bearings. With an efficient readjustment of your weight so you can freely work your thighs, you begin bouncing on him with no pretenses. His answering moan is louder than he clearly intended because as soon as it’s out, he bites down on his tongue. It’s clear he doesn’t want to make it obvious where you are and what you’re doing, but he’s having trouble containing himself. There’s sweat already starting to prickle under the surface of his skin and his hands feel restless just minutes into your ministrations.

Taehyung settles for muttering quiet curses and gripping your rapidly circling hips with bruising force. He can barely keep up with the pace you’ve set, but he does manage. He thrusts up to meet your every downstroke, though it’s not without an obscene slapping sound. The fact that he’s so visibly affected by your movements gets you wetter every second until he almost slips out a few times. You adjust your rhythm so that’s not a problem, but your thighs are burning with the effort. Taehyung sees through hooded eyes that you’re losing steam and seizes his chance.

You’ve opted for sitting and grinding with him inside you when he starts to shift. His arms come to envelope you and keep you steady as he sits up. Then you’re suddenly on your back. You want to protest about the dirt, but the ground looked clean and dry and doesn’t make your back itch, so you let it happen. Taehyung repositions himself among your splayed legs, hitching one up to wrap around his hip. He grabs the ankle of your other leg and lifts it slowly, testing your flexibility and giving you time to tell him where your limit is. When your ankle is hovering level with his shoulder, you give him a cheeky smirk at his wide eyed expression. He punishes your silent brag by sucking a rough hickey into the skin just above your ankle before resting it on his shoulder. The very fact that he’s pretzled you like this turns him on and gives him a slight energy boost. He figures you must have stolen some of his life force with the way you rode him earlier.

“Little succubus,” he spits through gritted teeth as he begins pistoning his hips against yours.

You let out a shameless laugh that quickly devolves into a low moan with the way the new angle feels. He’s not going to last much longer if you continue to squeeze around him like you’re doing, but he’s fairly certain you’ll finish first. Certain because his hand moves down between your bodies to tweak at one of your nipples. He noticed earlier how your eyes fogged over while you played with yourself in the same way. Leaning over, he continues to thrust into you while pulling the nipple between his teeth. He rakes over it lightly and your leg tenses before falling back down with a thud. You don’t seem to notice and instead your abdomen spasms with the waves of pleasure that begin lapping at you without ebbing back. The feeling merely builds until it explodes the moment he minutely clenches his jaw and bites. It’s a small amount of pain, but it takes you by surprise and pushes you over the edge.

With your walls milking him, he follows your high soon with his own. His breaths come out in deep huffs in your ear, heavy with bass. You test your limbs and the shifting makes you aware of the come he filled you with. When he pulls out, the sensation grows and you’re moaning weakly as it leaks out. He takes his lower lip in between his teeth as he watches the evidence his orgasm drip from your puffy center. He kind of wants to push it back in with his tongue or his fingers just to watch it drip out again, but he knows you might still be sensitive. So he settles for stroking your hip bone lovingly.

Grabby hands creep into his peripheral vision. It’s you silently asking for him to come lie with you, and he does. He presses sweet kisses against your lips until you sling a leg over his hip and add tongue. His dick twitches with the promise of second round, rubbing against the soft skin of your inner thigh. Normally, he’d need more time between orgasms. But you’re kissing his neck and for some reason the smell of your sweat combined with lavender is a miraculous pairing and has the blood flowing back south. A quick glance at his wrist watch tells him that there’s still a good 45 minutes and he flashes the little screen to you. Your answering grin is the rest of the motivation he needs.

The festival day ended two days ago. Following your rendezvous, you both smoothed out your clothes and shook the grass out of them before sneaking back into the campgrounds smelling suspiciously of lavender and ‘something else’ according to Moe. You managed to somehow avoid her keen nose just like Taehyung avoided his older brother’s wiggly eyebrows.

Clean up was an absolute bitch that night, so you both went to bed without hitting each other up. And the following day was for making sure all the campers were packed up and shipped off to town or picked up by their guardians. That was somehow more exhausting even though there wasn’t any cleaning or sweaty sex involved. It was probably the giant bonfire you had and the 40s you threw back that night with your co-counselors. It was probably the most fun you had with them in a while. You were up into the wee hours recounting all the chaos from the last week and the shenanigans that resulted from having the counselors from the other side of the lake involved. No one mentions you slipping away for over an hour, and for that you’re thankful.

But the headache you wake up with the next day has you silently cursing the whole camp. You don’t need to spend a long time packing, and you’re out of your cabin in record time. Hitching a ride with one of the other early risers, you find yourself at the admin building with plenty of time to kill until you have to walk to the nearest bus stop. There’s donuts and bagels and a basic fruit plate in the conference room and you stealthily sneak some food out while the camp leader interrogates other counselors about how they felt the summer went. You even resort to filling out your evaluation form in the hallway to avoid the camp leader’s hawk-like gaze. You’re still seated on the floor, counting the dots in the pattern on the linoleum tiles, when Taehyung’s characteristic sneakers appear in front of you.

“You going home?”

It’s an awkward question, but it technically shouldn’t be. The last moments in the lavender field were spent with you skirting around his questions about where in the city you lived and what your plans for the fall were. It seemed pointless to tell him all that and act as if you were guaranteed to be able to pick things up where they left off once camp closed for the summer. With your back turned that day, you missed the way Taehyung looked at you after struggling with the feeling of not knowing you. Despite the fact that he felt deep in his soul not more than 3 hours ago that he knew you.

Couple this with the fact that you did have down time after the festival ended, but you said you were busy when you weren’t and you end up where you are now. Suddenly uncomfortable in front of the guy you’d been opening yourself up to for months because you never really got to breach the subject of what would happen when the summer ended. Now you’re realizing these are probably your last moments with what you had with him at Camp Lonely Heart.

“My bus is coming at 2,” you say eventually. He tries one last time.

“That’s hours from now. I can...I could drive you instead. I’m going into the city anyway.”

Yes, your brain wants you to say. Take me home, and then come in and stay with me. You want to utter the words, but your tongue grows heavy and clumsy. So instead you say something stupid.

“The ticket’s non-refundable.”

“Oh.” His head lowers to stare at his own shoes. “Yeah, that’s...I get that. Money, right?”

“Yeah.” You stare down at your shoes. You fight to find a redeemable moment, something lighter to end the summer on. “Hey, uh, look what I brought when I cleaned out my cabin.”

Taehyung stares down at your seated form while you fish through your little backpack for something. He’s not sure why the moment he was dreading before officially meeting you is happening now. The rejection he was hoping to avoid by remaining a nameless, faceless voice is now slowly rearing its ugly head.

“Look!” Your voice is a bit too enthusiastic to come off as 100% genuine, but the sight of the walkie talkie that started it all does make Taehyung smile despite himself.

When he pulls out a matching device from the side pocket of his messenger bag, the uncomfortable atmosphere lifts a little. Minho shows up then, keys jingling in his pocket. He calls for Taehyung and looks at you curiously.

“Are you coming with?” Before you can explain, Taehyung answers for you.

“She can’t. She’s gotta catch the bus.”

“The bus that’s going into the city? Where we’re also headed,” Minho asks with an incredulous smile that’s got none of the usual sweetness in it.

He looks at you for a better answer, one that makes more sense, but you don’t volunteer one when suddenly put on the spot. The slump in Taehyung’s shoulders betray the weak smile on his face. To Minho, the whole situation positively reeks of a similar situation his baby brother got into when he was younger and much less careful with his heart. He’s not 100% surprised at you, though. He saw this coming in the last few days when there were no calls from you and Taehyung’s eyes lost their summer shine. Minho pins you with a look of disappointment that you feel deep in your bones before he gives you a second chance.

“Tae, can you go start up the car?”

There must be something in Minho’s voice that you miss because Taehyung surprises you by only hesitating for a second before taking the keys and turning on his heel. You can feel Minho’s eyes on your face the entire time you watch Taehyung leave, but you can’t bear to face him until he’s gone.

“What the fuck is going on?”

“I don’t know,” you answer honestly. “I just panicked when he asked if I was coming, so I said no.” He sighs in what you think is understanding, eyes closing momentarily before opening again. This time, his face is slightly more patient. He thinks he knows what’s going on.

“Do you want to ride home with us? With him?” There’s something else in the question, and you see it and grab at it, even though the implications scare you.

“I think so. I want to spend more time with him before I have to go for good. We didn’t really...talk about how this would end.”

“Does it have to end?”

“I mean, you know what they say about summer flings. Plus, this all happened in a really weird environment. Who knows if all of this was only possible because we just happened to be in the right place at the right time.”

“Mm, yeah. It sounds like you guys were lucky in that regard,” he crosses his arms. “But you can take luck and build on it with actual effort and make something solid.”

You open your mouth to protest, but you can’t think of anything to actually say because he’s right. So you pick up your backpack and zip it up and gesture for him to lead the way to the car. A tiny bit of prideful approval bleeds onto his otherwise grave expression. On the way to the parking lot, your mind swirls with thoughts about the ways that this thing could fall apart. About how a summer haze made everything possible or how the distance that can’t be covered by walkie talkies will be the end of you and Taehyung. You look up to catch Taehyung’s profile as he waits for Minho in the driver’s seat. You also catch the way his face goes from a flat mask of indifference to surprise to badly concealed joy at the sight of you trudging behind his older brother. He rolls down the window while Minho makes a beeline for the back seat.

“You’re coming?”

“If that’s okay.” And you do wonder. Is this okay? Can we really do this? Can we make it?

“Y-yeah, of course,” seems to be Taehyung’s answer to all your questions, even the ones unspoken.

While you make your way to the passenger’s side, Taehyung whips his head around to stare at his brother.

“What did you say to her?”

“I’m not telling you, but just know that you may owe me for life after this.”

“Alright,” Taehyung concedes as you get in and strap in for the ride.

Thanks for reading through these collab pieces with me. Plz also go check out the pieces @polaritae wrote on the masterlist link above!!

#btssmutclub #bscproject #networkbangtan #95line.net #kimtaehyung.net #bangtan bookclub #bttnetwork #btswriters #bts smut #bts scenarios #bts imagines #bts fanfic #taehyung scenarios #taehyung imagine #taehyung fanfic

[suffering-and-happy-about-it]

Favored ones, Part 1. (Joel Miller x Fem!reader)

Description: When you spend every evening with someone who's deeply under your skin, a certain relationship can be developed. So it's crushing for Joel when Y/N suddenly disappears. But there's way more to the relationship that one would've guessed.

A/N: I love me a knife dad, sis.

A/N 2: This is just a chapter that will introduce you to the series and by the time, we will lay into deeper layers; as always, lmao. Also a subtle Far Cry 5 reference. Very subtle, you might not even catch it.

Warnings: Surviving the cordyceps apocalypse, enduring and surviving, an attack of some sort, will explain later.

Word count: 2.6 K

Tagging: @missdictatorme @xxgoldenhour @nemodoren

Also - if you would like to get tagged, don't be shy babe, just tell me.

If you like this story, please, more parts can be found here! :): H E R E

Around December 2038:

What was the worst part of the outbreak?

One would've thought it would be those who were infected by cordyceps. Some would answer that the worst thing which happened was the moment when the government broke completely down and when the society had crumbled to shit. Other people would tell you that the scariest thing for them to overcome was the cruelty of other people, them forming gangs, stealing from others, killing others to survive. Cannibalism, chaos.

But for one man it was the memories that took a hold on him. He was still scared of the nightmares that were crawling through his brain and subconsciousness. It was a dream that was playing in a fucking loop.

He saw his very own child, his little baby girl and angel shining through his darkness, his daughter Sarah being shot over and over and over again. It happened a thousand times till that very day and even if Joel found a way to endure and survive, he was still visiting the past in his mind.

It was over twenty-five years ago and yet he remembered every last detail of that night. Joel never felt such a painful loss in his entire life.

He found new people who he learned to love as the time passed, even if it wasn't exactly easiest to move on, he found new purposes and things he could do, but there was only one Sarah. No-one could replace her.

But to be fair, even if the twenty-five years of surviving took a hold on him, his physique and mental health, his experience was priceless. Nothing could be better than being taught by a professional.

So when he and Ellie settled down in Jackson County five years ago, he earned the people's trust when he decided to help them out with practical training. He was a master smuggler and survivor after all.

Sometimes, he got a bunch of kiddos in a class to teach them how to shoot with bow and gun in self-defense, other times they had a biology class and Joel taught them how to properly hunt an animal and how to cut its throat.

When Joel was in a really good mood, he was playing some old tunes on his guitar to them. But that happened truly rarely. Rather never than often.

As time passed, Joel could say who's in his group only to annoy him because he was such an old asshole and who is there to actually listen to what he was saying.

There were two small boys, twins, around the age of thirteen who loved fauna and flora. There was a sixteen-year-old girl who was willing to take guitar lessons. And then there was a girl, rather a woman, just a few years older than Ellie, who loved to learn how to shoot with a bow.

There was no other person so similar to Ellie, a girl who he practically adopted. That girl, her name was Y/N and she was born in Jackson County, was fiery and witty, quick with her responses and pretty tough cookie on the outside.

Even if Joel would not address the situation properly, the others began to notice - trips to the woods with Joel to hunt, practically everyday personal training from Joel to shoot with a bow. People began to spread the news quickly, it spread like a wildfire. The other day, there were jokes when you slowly approached your study session with the other ones from your town.

"Well if it ain't the miss I will get into your pants, huh?" - Jesse, your longtime friend joked while he prepared a saddle on his horse's back.

"Smelling nice, looking fucking fresh and I'm ready to take a hike." - You looked at your horse, a white one with one big black dot on near its left eye and you gave him a carrot so it could chew something. You called it Sadie and you knew that animal since you were a small kid. - "There was some hot water left yesterday around two a.m.. The best shower of the year."

"Hike on a horse?" - Dina, another of your friends, added and rose her eyebrows as she watched you. - "You still don't have a clue hikes work, do you?"

"Well, nobody said I'm the smartest, but in conclusion, fuck all of you." - You said with your head held high. Typical you - not having some valid arguments, so you cursed them out. - "Thanks for having a conversation with me, I very much appreciate it."

"Oh, snowy morning, three jackasses and some cursing in the air. I feel like I'm home." - The last member of your group joined. Ellie had her denim jacket with wool inside, her hair was in a bun and she looked like she hasn't slept an hour that night.

You whistled and sooner than you could stop yourself, your brain began to make connections and conclusions. Dina wasn't looking exactly fresh as well, so they have been together. Jesse was looking like a panther just ready to strike and kill his prey, so he and Dina had broken up once again.

Holy shit. If your calculations were right, it meant that...

"Don't tell me that you two are fucking." - You shouted with laughter, pointing at both of them. Ellie's eyes widened, Dina panicked and it all happened in the one exact same moment. - "Holy motherfucking shit, guys. I know that you're into licking holes, girls, but this was way sooner than we expected. You talked about it like... Yesterday. Nice. Good job!"

"Y/N, language." - You heard the voice of your mentor who you began to recognize amongst everyone else talking to you silently. It was Joel, looking like a bag of hot trash and smelling like local whiskey. - "We have children here. Alright?"

"I'm sorry. It just took me by a surprise. Not gonna happen again, I swear." - You looked down on your lumberjack shoes and smiled innocently.

It was hard to get under your skin - but Joel was deeply under it. He had grown to your brain over the last few months. It was one of the few adults you listened to willingly.

"Holy moly." - Jesse took advantage of that situation when Joel was out of the range to hear your bickering. - "Look how tamed she is for that old man. Never seen her like that. Wanna get a pat on the back of your head from Ellie's old man for being such a good girl?"

"Keep telling that to yourself, country boy." - You bickered back and hopped into the saddle, smoothing your horse's neckline. - "You never gonna get a single touch on all of this. This is VIP stuff." - You pointed at yourself and made your horse gallop to the gate.

The twins were sitting on one horse, ironically called the Rabbit, there was also a few other kids from the neighborhood. But today was different - while Joel took the other kids to teach them how to survive in the freezing cold temperatures while the trio will be guarding them against any wildlife or infected attack, you will hunt on your own.

The first time Joel had actually let that happen - you were out to near cities to find some things that may come handy in groups on daily, scheduled bases, but to hunt on your own in the toughest winter? Never happened to you before.

"So, just as we agreed?" - You looked down on Joel who's back were turn to you and smiled. You had a winter coat on, so your face with reddened cheeks and nose was barely visible. But even though, Joel came to your horse and caressed its side while looking you in the eyes.

"Yeah, just as we agreed. Stay in the area of the mapped roads and be back on time. No unexpected things today, I beg you." - Joel spoke silently, which made you smile wider.

"How many times we've been into the woods, big guy? I know those places like the back of my hand. I will be okay and I will behave well, I promise." - You winked at him and when nobody was paying attention, the tips of your fingers subtly brushed against his hand. It was just a second, small moment, almost invisible to most of the people around you.

You secretly lived for that - the big secret you held, the anticipation about what will happen when you'll be at home that night tickling every nerve in your body, the danger of anybody finding out. 

But you just looked in front of your horse as Joel stepped further away.

"I would say you behave. Safety first. You see something you can't shoot with a bow or kill with a knife, you run. Won't you be cold out there?" - Joel caught your stare one last time and you laughed a little. You were cold as shit even now, but because of your pride and anticipation, you would not say it out loud.

"Wouldn't you wanna know, old man?" - Then you rose up the sleeve to show him your watch. - "Got my timer set and bow steady, time to go. See you somewhere around Whitetail, Joel."

And with that, you rode out of the city's gates, slowly and steady through the pretty deep snow. And so, it was happening - your first-time real hunting session. Without Ellie, Jesse, Dina, the elders or Joel. Only you and the forest.

---

You could feel that you're one with nature around you. The snow was cracking under your weight as you slowly walked from tree to tree. Your body felt tensed up and the tips of the fingers tapped and brushed the bow and arrow in your hands.

At those moments, the world felt quiet and peaceful. Only the innocent white color was surrounding you, sometimes disrupted with brown or green, those were the trees. A few brackens were moving silently as the snow was falling on it.

You stepped forward again and looked around you, slowly exhaling out. You didn't want the mist out of your lips to cover your surroundings so you learned how to breathe slowly. That was of the things that Joel was teaching you since spring.

There were no misty breaths in March or April, but it definitely occurred in November and December. You needed to be careful with breathing. And shaky, cold fingers - that was when you needed gloves with cut off fingertips, so you could use at least the big portion of your fingers.

Just like that, you caught a glimpse of a rabbit running two to three feet away from you, not minding you at all. You dropped lower on your knees and you felt as the snow slowly froze them down. Your eyes carefully watched the movements of the rabbit.

If you get really lucky, you might even find it's lair. Ah shit, three to six rabbits on your first hunt? That would be a fucking jackpot. And you would prove yourself in Joel's eyes. So you decided to follow that small, furry animal with small steps and subtle movements.

You didn't even make rushed motions with your feet to keep the quietest you were capable of. But the rabbit only seemed to be running around and gathering some old, yellow grass. But then it got into a fast pace, but you knew that nothing is lost.

Just follow its footprints. That was actually the easiest technique when you hunt, Joel repeated countless times.

The following of the rabbit's trail took you almost half an hour before you stood in front of its lair.

Holy motherfucking shit. You actually made it. A lair of rabbits just in front of you. You heard them inside of it, moving and crawling, sniffing and making slow subtle movements. Just as you were taught to do it - stick your hands inside the lair and caught one of these little fuck's ears and drag them out and slice them.

But stand in front of the hole they could escape with. They would be too afraid to come out of it. Just like that, you had four dead rabbits in your hand. You walked with them to Sadie, smiling wickedly. Four fucking rabbits. Who would have thought?

But when you were too occupied with pinning the rabbits into the horse's back, you caught a glimpse of something interesting behind it. You saw a human being, probably a man, walking behind the tree.

"Hey, are you from Jackson County?" - You asked in a sharp voice. If it would've been someone you knew, they wouldn't be creeping up behind your back like that. So you controlled the knife you had behind your belt and furrowed your look in the direction where you saw them for the last time.

There were a lot of trees there, so you could probably catch some glimpses, but nothing was for sure. So you prepared your bow in the case of need. It wasn't Runners or Clickers, they even bother to sneak around. They would've attack immediately. The forest was unusually unsettling and quiet.

"Why don't you just come here and talk to me?" - You asked unsurely again. You played with the bow and looked around. - "Can you stop fucking with me and just come out?"

When you were almost about to snap, you froze when your ears caught another sound coming from behind your back. This was a fucking trap. And you caught the bait perfectly. You were so dumb.

Immediately, you jumped on Sadie's back and made her turn around so you could go back on the road as soon as possible.

But such terrible things can happen in a few seconds. Before you could even breath out, you felt as Sadie's legs lost the balance and as the horse crumbled down. Your legs fell from the saddle and the animal's body fell on yours for a second, but you couldn't breathe nonetheless. Both of you were falling from a hill - and it was a pretty bad fall.

When you laid in the ice-cold snow and tried to catch a breath, you realized your leg hurts too much. It was an immersive pain that made you scream out loud. It was broken.

And the guys who've been hunting you down were just slicing Sadie's throat.

---

"It's late. She should've been here an hour ago." - Jesse said to Deena. They've separated - Joel took he kids back inside and Ellie went to search for you in the area you talked about with Joel. Jesse and Deena stayed at Whitetail to wait if you don't come there.

"Come on. You know her. Maybe she found some good hunting spot?" - Dina said with a smile. Yeah. That was all you. Just to forget about time. There was probably nothing wrong with you. - "I bet she's just fine."

Just as she said that Jesse saw a glimpse of Ellie in the background. She was running as fast as she could and she was clearly scared for her dear life.

"I-I found Sadie, her horse." - Ellie stuttered, looking at both of them.

"Why didn't you bring him back? We could look into her logbook." - Jesse answered and Dina shook her head. - "She only wrote notes to her logbook when she was back in the town. She did write only when she was scheduled to go out. It wouldn't help at all."

"Dead. That horse is dead with an arrow in its knee and sliced throat. I do have any idea where she is." - And with that, they knew that they have to search for you immediately.

#joel miller x reader #joel miller #joel #knife dad #the last of us imagine #the last of us series #joel miller x y/n #ellie williams #ellie tlou #tlou #naughty dog #dina #jesse #joel tlou

[theguardianangel-fanfiction]

Current Progress/Life Update

Maybe I should do one of these each week for those of you who are here for my writing (I’m sure one or two of you are just here for the memes and I think one person is here for my personality). 

So for OBTD’s rewrite, my current plan is to split it into three separate fics that will be tied together with a series. The series is going to be called No Shepherd To Guide You. The first fic, which I’m currently working on putting into place, rewriting (like, legit, typing up and changing a lot of) the early chapters and setting up some plot points that I really wanted to explore, like the whole Mike-Ralph thing and “What happened to Christa?” and some other stuff. I’m wading through a lot of confirmed deleted content and plot points, trying to get OCs straight (obviously, I’ve gotten criticism before, but I’ve tagged everything now and at this point, maybe don’t read if you just don’t like OCs in the background or even in supporting roles once or twice?), and trying to figure out a good way to tie everything together with a pretty bow.  This fic is not nor has it ever been my intention to be compliant with seasons 3 and 4; not because I don’t like them (I love the season 3 characters, just not the plot) but because I started writing this fic in 2016 when neither of those seasons were out. 

The first fic in the series is Lambs To The Slaughter; this is the one I’m currently writing, and it will take us until the end of my arc with Howe’s. The sequel will be called Elysian Fields, and number 3, if I get there, will be Burning Daylight. 

You can scroll down if you don’t care about my personal life, but here’s a life update for anyone curious. I just finished my semester in college about a week ago and I’ve been having some issues related to that; it’s difficult to get out of the “oh my God I have to this this and this” headspace and I’ve developed some nervous tics that I don’t think are going to go away any time soon (restless legs, constant twitching, the works). My panic attacks have kind of increased since about October, but I’ve been keeping a diary of them and I plan to get help when I can. 

I’m still furloughed from the pet store and I’m debating quiting once my furlough is lifted (if it indeed is) and trying to find a second vet hospital to work at (now that I have my foot in the door) as I finish off at community college. I only have four classes left before I graduate with my associate’s degree, but it’s two chemistry’s, a math, and physics, so pray for my ass lmao. 

Now for the story progress: 

Once Bitten, Twice Dead - planned chapter 32 and I have several thousand words written for it, but I think I’m probably going to be waiting for the publishing of Lambs To The Slaughter and we’ll how we go from there.

Lambs To The Slaughter - written chapters 1-3 and vastly changed what once was the beginning of OBTD to include Christa’s fate, the whole Mike-Ralph thing, and some other stuff related to that.  - chapter 4 is not finished but it’s getting there. Chapters will be a lot longer than my early OBTD chapters were (which they really only were because when I was 15 and writing them, I wanted to do a weekly release, which is no longer feasible due to me at 19 working the equivalent of a full-time job, being a full time student, and being burned out due to fibromyalgia and my mental issues).  - I’ve waded through a lot of deleted content to find things that I thought would be interesting to write, not just Mike-Ralph. I’m still piecing them together in some places, but the general flow of the story is still there and I know what’s going to happen. 

alone, myself, i stand - a huge thank you to cadeparade on AO3, because they gave me a massive compliment and a few ideas for the final chapter, chapter 4, titled “the night will be over soon”.  - I currently have dug out my old first draft of a few scenes I planned on writing for chapter 4 before my involuntary hiatus, so I have a rough idea of what the chapter is going to be about, what’s going to happen, and how’s it’s going to end. My only fear this is that I know that this chapter is probably going to double the size of AMIS, if I’m judging by the size of OBTD’s equivalent chapter.  - any mentions of assault, eating disorders, post-traumatic stress disorder, and anything else of the sort are still tagged and will be getting a warning, as is usual. This fic isn’t supposed to be about assault in and of itself; it’s about trauma, recovery, and relapse. The ending isn’t happy, but it isn’t and will never be sexually graphic; it may not even be violently graphic, depending on how things go. Hotlines and references will be available in the notes for anyone that needs them.  - again, I’ve been through some shit myself. I know how it affects mental health.

tainted blood series - Nothing confirmed, but I do have an idea for a fic that could take place in season 3′s setting. We may get an appearance of the Garcias and insight into surviving t1d further into the outbreak.  - yeah, how do you keep insulin cold? Where the fuck do you get 31 gauge needles (the ones most people use for insulin) from? I work for a veterinarian now and yeah, I’ve learned a lot about insulin dependent diabetes even just from taking care of insulin dependent dogs. I’m even looking into becoming a veterinary endocrinologist. Edit: 31 gauge needles, 1 cc syringe is what I meant; in my experience working with animals, they use the same type of needles and syringes that people do, depending on the person of course. My dad’s medication (not insulin) is given intramuscular through a 3ml syringe with a 20G needle. All depends on the person. - Again, nothing confirmed, but there is an attempt. I’m not 100% guaranteeing that there will be a part 4, but there is a possibility. Similarly to AMIS, the reception that I received for tainted blood is something I never could have imagined, not for even a moment, that I would ever reach. I love you all. 

Upcoming Fics/Fic Ideas Yes, I need to stop starting shit when I already have too many fics to finish.

Kindly Stop For Me: Edith’s POV and a little bit further on during the Wellington ending, exploring Wellington and its functions, and how Edith ended being the person who took care of Clem and AJ. 

16 Months Later: A short multichapt fic exploring an AU where Christa and Omid’s baby (a daughter) survived. After Christa is killed by scavengers in All That Remains, Clem takes the 16 month old and ends up squatting in (underneath) the cabin and in the shed, relying only on herself to steal food and keep the baby fed and alive.

Awakening: A Detroit: Become Human fic that I’ve been writing on and off for the past year, but it isn’t published. It’s a reverse AU featuring human Connor (and RK800-60 and RK900) and android Hank, Luther and Kara switching spots and a human Alice, and human Markus and android Carl. Ships are: SiMarkus, Luthara, Reed900 (shut up, I like it), and maybe even ConNorth (again, shut up, I like it)? Who knows. 

So there you have it. This is my life now. 

Come check out my fictionpress, Always Good for a Smile, for original poems, short stories, and longer that I write. 

#update #obtd updates #obtd announcements #fanfic