johnegbertdotcom

[johnegbertdotcom]

Famous!Reader x hamzah

A/n: boi 1st time writing... don't judge I thought of this idea higher then a hoe okay

Warnings: just two cute ahh bihs who really really want eachother

Hamzah almost couldn't believe what he was seeing.

Almost.

You had posted a very passionate rant on tiktok, gushing about how much you love slushy noobz and how you could only dream of collabing with them.

The fact that you even knew about him and Martin—let alone appreciated their humor—shook him. He had always imagined you as the type to be elegant, sophisticated, maybe even too mature for the kind of chaotic energy he and Martin had thrived on. But realizing that you shared their sense of humor? That you actually found them funny? That just made his crush on you grow by tenfold.

But hamzah wasn't the only one nursing what was thought to be a "one-sided" crush.

You had been interested in Slushy Noobz—especially Hamzah—for what felt like forever. Your crush had been planted quietly in the background around the same time your career had exploded. It felt almost symbolic, the way both your stardom and this giddy infatuation grew almost side by side. You’d landed a few small roles in indie films, and then—seemingly overnight—one of those films blew up. Suddenly, you weren’t just “up and coming", you were practically everywhere.

You became the definition of “everyone wants to be her.” Despite that, you never let the fame go to your head. You stayed grounded, still posting regularly on your YouTube channel, sharing vlogs, behind-the-scenes moments, and your genuine self with fans. That relatability only made Hamzah fall harder.

With shaking fingers, a pounding heart, and a confidence that hamzah didn't even know we had in him, typed out a DM on Instagram:

"collab?"

He immediately threw his phone onto his bed like it had caught fire. Adrenaline shot through his body as he replayed everything in his head a thousand times.

Around thirty minutes later, you responded.

You were losing it. Hamzah had messaged you. THE Hamzah?? (Of course he did, do you even know who you are?)

You replied almost immediately:

“Are you serious?? If you are, when, where, and with who???”

Hamzah stared at your reply like it was a hallucination. He reread it five times, heart hammering in his chest. You were excited. You wanted this. He immediately screenshot it and sent it to Martin with the caption:

“BRO SHE SAID YES.”

Martin replied in all caps, “SHUT UP?!?!” followed by a dozen skull emojis and a GIF of someone passing out dramatically.

Meanwhile, Hamzah was trying to compose the most casual-sounding response in the world… while internally spiraling.

“Yea lol I’m serious. Could do something chill for YouTube first, or if you’re down, maybe something for both our channels?”

Sent. Again, the phone got tossed.

You, on the other hand, had your phone clutched in both hands, laying flat on your bed, staring at the screen with a face-splitting grin. You were texting your best friend at rapid speed:

“I think I’m gonna die. Hamzah just asked me to collab?? Like… we’re actually gonna film together??”

The two of you went back and forth for a few minutes, laying out a plan. You agreed on something fun and interesting for your channels—something low-pressure, maybe a challenge or Q&A style video that would let your natural chemistry show. You settled on flying out to Canada and meeting up with Hamzah there in around two weeks.

The day of the collab came fast. Too fast.

You walked into the studio with your usual positive aura, your makeup was soft and glowy, and your hair looked effortlessly beautiful (even though it definitely had taken quitea bit of effort), and then you saw him.

Hamzah was leaning against the counter in a hoodie, his signature grin in place, but his eyes widened just slightly when he saw you. You both just… froze for a second. It wasn’t awkward, more like a quiet shock that this was actually real now.

“You’re taller than I thought,” you said first, trying to break the ice.

He laughed. “You’re exactly as cool as I thought.”

That made you blush—just slightly, but enough that Hamzah noticed.

The collab started off smooth. You filmed a “Who Knows Me Better” game—Martin had joined via FaceTime and was yelling answers from his kitchen. There was laughter, chaotic yelling, inside jokes forming on the spot, and more than a few lingering glances that both of your fans would definitely pick up on.

After filming, you two sat on the couch while the cameras were off, finishing your drinks and scrolling through the footage.

“This was fun,” Hamzah said, glancing over at you. “Way more fun than I thought.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Wow, high praise.”

“No, I mean…” He trailed off, nervously rubbing the back of his neck. “I just didn’t expect it to feel this easy. Being around you.”

You looked at him, your heart thudding louder than it should. “Same. I thought I’d be more nervous.”

He smiled at that—soft, boyish, kind of shy. “So… should we do this again sometime?”

You tilted your head, pretending to think. “Depends. Is it a collab… or a date?”

Hamzah froze for a beat, stunned, then grinned like an idiot.

“Both?”

You laughed. “Deal.”

---

[johnegbertdotcom]

— saltwater heart beats ౨ৎ✧˚

warnings: subtle longing, ocean mythology, soft tension, slowburn? pairing: percy jackson x daughter of amphitrite a/n: this was pure indulgence :)

the first time percy sees you, you’re standing in the surf.

not walking, not swimming. just standing there, still and quiet, like the sea is part of your breath.

the sky is soft gold. the wind smells like pine and salt.

percy is heading back from the canoe races when he sees you. you’re knee-deep in the ocean, long hair dripping wet, fingers trailing through the water like you’re listening to something just beneath the surface.

he stops walking.

he watches.

the tide hushes around you, like it recognizes you.

"you’re staring," annabeth says from behind him.

percy doesn’t look away. "didn’t think anyone else was out here."

"that’s the new girl," she says. "daughter of amphitrite. she’s not exactly a camper."

"what does that mean?"

"diplomatic visit. she’s here to observe. probably keep an eye on you."

percy frowns.

he glances back toward the water just as you turn your head.

your profile is sharp, elegant. your expression unreadable.

then you step forward and vanish into the waves without a sound.

your name is y/n.

you say it flatly, standing barefoot in the dining pavilion. your plate is untouched.

chiron gives a warm smile. "you’re welcome to join meals and training. your cabin is ready."

you nod once. that’s all.

you don’t sit with any cabin.

you don’t speak unless someone asks you something directly.

you don’t eat much.

but percy sees you.

he sees you every morning, swimming silent laps across the lake at dawn.

he sees you walking through the forest with your fingers brushing pine needles.

he sees you whispering to a hippocampus behind the stables, your hand on its nose like a promise.

he never interrupts.

not yet.

you approach him during the rain.

percy is sitting by the lake, skipping rocks into the water. the sky is heavy and gray. it smells like thunder.

he hears you before he sees you. your steps are light, careful. the rain slows, like it’s giving you space.

he glances over. you’re already beside him.

"hi," he says.

"you’re poseidon’s son."

"percy."

you nod. "y/n."

you sit beside him. not too close. just enough.

he flicks another stone. it sinks.

"what are you doing here?" he asks.

"chiron invited me."

"your mom doesn’t exactly like mine."

"she doesn’t hate him," you say. "she just doesn’t trust the sea when it answers to someone like you."

"because i’m mortal?"

you tilt your head. "because you change it."

the rain falls around you in soft sheets.

percy skips another rock. this one manages a single bounce.

"do you think i’m dangerous?" he asks.

you look at him. "i think you’re powerful."

then you stand.

"that’s not always the same thing," you add, and walk away.

you’re different in training.

you don’t talk.

you don’t hesitate.

you move like the sea — fast, smooth, precise.

you knock down an ares camper in ten seconds and walk off before anyone reacts.

percy watches you more than he means to.

he copies your stances. watches your footwork.

annabeth raises an eyebrow.

"you’re staring again."

"i’m learning," he says.

"you like her," she says.

he doesn’t answer.

a few days later, you hand him something.

a small shell. pale pink, cool and smooth.

"a listening shell," you say. "if you speak into it, i’ll hear you."

he turns it over in his palm.

"why would i need to call you?"

"you might want to," you say simply, and leave.

he finds you by the lake that evening.

you’re braiding seaweed through your hair, humming something low.

he sits beside you without asking.

you don’t move away.

"you always sit by the water," he says.

"it’s the only place that feels like home."

he nods slowly. "same."

you glance over. your eyes meet his.

"you’re not what i expected," you tell him.

"what did you expect?"

"someone more reckless. more loud."

"and what are you?"

you think for a moment.

"deep," you say.

the corners of his mouth tug into a smile.

your knees brush for a moment.

neither of you pulls back.

that night, percy dreams of you.

you’re floating beside him in the ocean. no monsters. no storms. just water and breath.

your eyes are closed. your expression is calm.

he wakes just before you reach for his hand.

the shell you gave him hums softly on his windowsill.

he almost speaks into it.

almost.

but he waits.

because part of him wants to see you again — in person, not in dreams.

because part of him already knows you’ll be there.

the days blur like tidewater. every morning begins the same — mist curling low over the lake, the sky pale and open. every evening ends the same too — with the sea humming in your blood and something warm settling under your ribs when you think about him.

percy jackson.

he’s everywhere now. not like a storm, not all at once. he just... drifts into your days, quietly, like a tide that doesn’t ask permission.

he offers you a peach one morning. it’s overripe, sticky sweet. your hands brush when you take it.

he shows you how to hold a sword differently during sparring. he leans in close to adjust your stance and you feel the heat of him along your back.

he asks questions. not loud ones. not the kind you’d expect.

"what does the sea smell like below a thousand feet?" "do you think fish ever dream?" "when you’re down there... do you feel lonely?"

sometimes, you answer. sometimes, you ask things back.

"did it hurt when the sea called you the first time?" "do you ever wish you weren’t a hero?" "do you still love the surface, even after everything?"

he always answers.

not always with words.

one night, you bring him a lantern made of coral and driftglass.

"it glows when the moon rises," you tell him. "only then."

he holds it like it’s made of stars.

"why give this to me?"

"you live between tides," you say. "you should have light for both sides."

he doesn’t speak for a moment.

then, softly, "you always talk like that?"

"like what?"

"like you’re reciting something the sea wrote."

you glance at him. "maybe i am."

the shell hums again one night.

you wake slowly. the glow is soft, gentle. it pulses like a heartbeat.

you lift it to your mouth, hesitate. then whisper, "are you awake?"

there’s a pause.

then, crackling through the shell — "i am now."

you smile before you can stop yourself.

"i couldn’t sleep," you say.

"neither could i."

there’s a quiet between you.

"are you outside?" he asks.

"always."

"can i come find you?"

you pause.

then say, "yes."

he finds you by the cove, barefoot and half-damp from the waves.

you’re sitting on a smooth rock. the stars are smeared above you. the moon is full.

percy doesn’t say anything when he sits next to you.

he just breathes.

so do you.

you tuck your knees up. he leans his shoulder gently against yours.

"did you really want me to come?" he asks.

"i did."

"why?"

"because when i’m with you," you whisper, "the water isn’t the only thing that feels like home."

percy looks at you. not sharply. not suddenly. just soft and steady, like you’re something he’s always known.

"y/n," he says.

you turn.

he leans in.

he’s close. so close you can feel the ocean in him.

"can i kiss you?"

your breath catches.

"yes," you say.

he kisses you like you’re made of salt and moonlight.

not fast. not careful either.

just real.

his hand finds your jaw. your fingers curl into his shirt. you’re still kissing when the tide laps up to your ankles.

you don’t pull away until the shell between you glows again.

you both laugh.

after that, it’s easier.

you still train. you still eat quietly. you still slip into the lake before sunrise.

but he’s there now.

sometimes he’s in the water with you.

sometimes he’s on the shore waiting.

he never pulls you too hard toward land. you never drag him too far below.

you meet in the middle.

where the tide carries both your names.

and when he says yours, it sounds like a promise the sea is willing to keep.

[johnegbertdotcom]

　　 　　 loa cheat sheet to keep in mind 25/8 <3

　assuming gently but constantly

this does not mean obsessively looping affirmations... instead every time your mind wants to lean toward worry or doubt, you gently tip it back toward the i already have it mindset. you don't have to do this forcefully nor do you have to yell at yourself. more like….. you're reminding a forgetful friend, more like ... we're fine, this is already ours. do it ten times a day or do it a hundred or do it once, just don't let the opposite story get more airtime.

　not checking if it's working

I KNOWWWWW that this one is hard, especially because we're soooo used to measuring progress. but manifesting isn't like school or baking. sadly you don't get a gold star for effort. if you're checking, has it shown up yet? did that mean something? was that a sign? you're not in the state of having, you're in the state of lack, in the state of waiting.

the version of you who has it wouldn't be checking, they'd just be living. so copy that energy, even if it feels fake at first. it doesn't have to feel real, you just keep doing it until it does.

　not tying it to your worth

you do not have to heal everything first, you don't have to deserve it and you don't have to earn it. that's not how any of this works. you don't have to be the best version of yourself and you don't have to love yourself perfectly. you just have to accept that you are allowed to have the thing, and then decide that you do.

　letting it be boring and letting it be simple

you don't get there by force, you get there by letting the assumption settle into you like a habit. you don't try to feel it every second, just let it become normal. even boring.

you tell yourself a new story until it becomes the only one you respond to. you assume and you persist and and you let it land.

[johnegbertdotcom]

So aamzaing tap in

The edges of your soul (I haven't seen yet) ⭐︎ S.H.

⭐︎ Warnings: 18+ mdni! post apocalypse, character death, angst, mean!steve, grumpy!steve x sunshine!reader, blood, wounds -- all the gory stuff, smut in the future chapters, hurt/comfort

⭐︎ Pairing: Grumpy!Steve Harrington x sunshine(fem)!reader

⭐︎ Summary: Everything he once knew, is gone, dead and buried, burned to the ground and turned into ash. All he has known is loss, death and pain, he despised this world, until it brought you to him -- the sunshine he had long forgotten. Light he will follow till the very end.

⭐︎

Prologue ☀︎ When the sun hits, she'll be waiting

Chapter one ☀︎ Welcome and Goodbye

Chapter two ☀︎ Can you see right through me?

Chapter three ☀︎ You’re the greatest thing we’ve lost

Chapter four ☀︎ While I'm alone and blue as can be

Chapter five ☀︎ Watching cityscapes turn to dust

Chapter six ☀︎ The killing time. Unwillingly mine.

Chapter seven ☀︎ Fall back into place. Fall back...

Chapter eight ☀︎ Dead-eyed. Dead weight.

Chapter nine ☀︎ Pull the trigger on the gun I gave you when we met

Chapter ten ☀︎ Turn me into something tragic, just for you, I let it happen

Chapter eleven ☀︎ And I'll fear no evil because I'm blind to it all

Chapter twelve ☀︎ You’re a bandit like me. Eyes full of stars

Chapter thirteen ☀︎ Then this heart would break and fall as twice as far

Chapter fourteen ☀︎ The devil in your eyes, won't deny the lies you've sold

Chapter fifteen ☀︎ Every print I left upon the track has led me here

Chapter sixteen ☀︎ One day I am gonna grow wings...

[johnegbertdotcom]

[johnegbertdotcom]

Early 2000s Desktop Wallpapers!

[johnegbertdotcom]

where?

[johnegbertdotcom]

WDYM you can't change your appearance? It's a medical fact that our bodies builds a whole new set of cells each 11 months, basically the YOU now isn't the YOU 11 months ago, stfu and trust yourself, it is possible, we have a quote in arabic countries, it says “there's no smoke without fire”, and i say there's no stories/talks without evidence, ppl be posting about it with pics and it's subliminals not even loa/void, SUBLIMINALS do you hear me? I mean they used tools and still managed, exactly!

As a medical student, it's so possible to change your appearance, inside out, INSIDE OUT from cells to bones, it just depends on you and I know you won't give yourself up.

[johnegbertdotcom]

what do you mean reading fanfics on tumblr instead of sleeping isn’t healthy

[johnegbertdotcom]

"match my freak!" match my sweetness. match my benevolence. match my empathy. match my ability to feel emotions so deeply it tears me apart from the inside out