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blackwolfstabs · 10 months

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30 Day Writing Challenge: Day 24

CONFESSION

"He was responsible for this just as much as she was."

AU: Anika survived her attack in Scream VI :)

Tara spent hours pacing in her bedroom, watching time go by and fighting her fluctuating anxiety that had her fetching her inhaler more than she should, especially now, since…

No, stop thinking about it.

That was the problem, and she had two ways to handle it right now. She could either try to talk about it or try to sleep and forget about it. However, it was pretty fucking clear which one was promised to fail.

She didn’t want to do this… She really didn’t. She didn’t mean for it to happen anyway. Neither of them did. One thing just led to another and…

Fuck.

She pulled her phone up from clutching it at her side. The screen lit up to glow the time and a thread of unanswered text messages from Chad.

11:24 PM.

She couldn’t read through the texts. There were at least 20, and they had stopped around 7:00 that night. When she hadn’t answered, he had texted Sam, who’d told him that she was okay, home, and doing homework so her phone was on Do Not Disturb. Tara had been the one to tell her she was doing homework, but that wasn’t the truth. She lied. Because she couldn’t focus on anything but the thoughts running a thousand miles per minute in her head.

The ones she had to get out.

She navigated to the Discord app, where she could find an immediate answer if who she needed to talk to was still awake. Discord was where she and her classmates kept in touch with assignments and questions and whatnot. It was the quickest way to get a response from someone, because there was always someone online, no matter what time of day.

Luck was finally on her side tonight. She found the green status symbol alive next to Mindy’s icon, leading her to immediately go to her DMs.

‘hey are u busy? there’s something i need to talk to u about’

Her heart was pounding, as if it was already set-in-stone that she would be spilling her anxiety to someone else. It wasn’t. Mindy may not be available. She could easily change her mind and say ‘nevermind. it’s nothing. sorry for bothering u’. But something kept her staring at the screen long enough to see Mindy start typing a response and then it coming through, reading:

‘What’s up??’

For a moment, Tara felt nauseous, her legs shaking as she bit her lip.

‘um i’d rather talk to u in person. . . can i come over? if not, it’s ok. it can wait’

She knew she shouldn’t, but she had to add that last part as a final attempt to possibly get herself out of it. If Mindy said no, then it technically wasn’t her decision and she’d be forced to not tell anyone right now… right?

But her luck vanished in a second.

‘yeah sure. Chad’s already asleep so he won’t bother us, but Anika’s still here. We can go to my room to talk if you want.’

Now, there was no backing out. It was a relief that Chad was promised to stay out of the picture, but now that it was mentioned, she didn’t think having Anika there would be a problem. In fact, it might make things easier with how compassionate and easy-going she was. So, she quickly replied.

‘no it’s fine, she can stay. i don’t mind talking with both of u’

‘Cool then come on over. I’ll unlock the door.’

‘kk’

Tara took another breath through her inhaler, before shoving it in her pocket and leaving her room. She gave Sam’s door a look as she passed, making sure that no light was detected from beneath it, before continuing to the front door. All she could hope for now was that Sam was in a deep enough sleep to not recognize the unlocking and re-locking of the locks, nor wake up to find her gone before she could return. She didn’t intend to make this conversation very long, because she was exhausted and would rather be alone. She just hoped Mindy and Anika wouldn’t drag it out any more than need-be. Well… she was confident that Anika wouldn’t, but Mindy was unpredictable.

Once she got to the Meeks-Martins’ apartment and went inside, she became really nauseous. Mindy had left for a brief moment, but Anika had gotten them all some water and was setting the cups down on the table. Tara swayed a little, bringing a ginger hand up to her stomach with a small whimper.

She should’ve waited until the morning to do this, when nothing was in her stomach. She hadn’t even wanted to eat dinner but forced herself to anyway, so Sam wouldn’t suspect anything was wrong with her. After all, her appetite had increased, once she started going to therapy and had been on different anxiety and depression medication. Sam was sure to get suspicious if she didn’t eat anything at all.

Anika heard her weak noise and looked over to find her holding her stomach. “Are you okay, Tara?” she asked.

The younger took a deep breath. “Erm… I-I think I just wanna go home… my stomach’s upset…” she replied, her legs starting to tremble again.

But this only made the other more concerned as she came over to her. “Okay, well, why don’t you sit down for a minute first? See if it feels better?” She kept a soft hand on her back and guided her to the nearest chair, before pushing one of the water cups up to her. “Here, take a few sips.”

When Tara sat down, her leg immediately started bouncing in that infamously anxious way it did when she felt that staying still was like the calm before the storm. That was something she and and Sam had in common—

Sam…

She swore she couldn’t tell Sam what was going on, but it was hard not to want her around when she was this anxious. Just her sister’s presence was comforting, and if she were able to trust her with the truth, then she knew she would be able to be comforted the way she liked. But she just didn’t know…

She took a small sip of her water and a deep breath. Sitting down after shaking and pacing for so long actually seemed to take the edge off of her nervousness. It was a relief that made her realize just how much her feet were tired of bearing the pressure too.

“Is Sam not home?” Anika asked, knowing that Tara’s older sister was the first to know everything going on with her, ever since they eradicated the Kirsch family. Plus, whenever she was anxious like this, she always stayed close to Sam for comfort and security.

Carpenter set her cup down, shaking her head, “No, she’s home, just asleep.”

Right then, Mindy came back in, interjecting her apologies for her delay. “Sorry, I was catching up on some instructions for that paper that’s due next week.”

While Tara stayed quiet, Anika mentioned, “It’s fine. She just got really nauseous, so we haven’t talked much.”

But this made Mindy’s expression immediately switch to showing concern with underlying suspicion. If someone said they needed to talk and then became nauseous when they were given the opportunity to share, it was usually something that was risky. “It’s alright, take your time,” she assured, while she took a seat next to her girlfriend. “Is this your first time talking about whatever it is you need to talk about?”

Tara nodded without hesitation. She really wanted to just get it over with, blurt it out, and get all of the questions and awkward, judging moments of silence over with. “I… I just…” She paused to sigh again, trying to calm the waves of anxiety teasing her queasy stomach. “I’m just scared, because I don’t even know how to process it…” she whimpered.

“Well, let’s not worry about processing right now.” Anika reached her hand out to place it on Tara’s fidgeting hands. She then ran her thumb soothingly over her skin, “You can say whatever you wanna say, when you wanna say it.”

Beside her, Meeks-Martin nodded, “Yeah, whatever it is, it’s safe with us. Ring of Fire.”

‘Yeah, for now,’ Tara thought. It would be impossible to keep things a secret in the next coming weeks. She was already starting to feel the differences, which almost scared her more than telling someone, because she knew she’d be facing it all alone. She shifted in her seat and shrugged her shoulders, while giving a nervous glance down the hall… where the bedrooms were.

“Chad’s not going to come in, trust me,” Mindy promised, “Besides, even if he did, we’ll just tell him it’s girl stuff and he’ll go away.”

“N-no, that’s…” She couldn’t help but avoid all eye contact as she dropped her eyes to her lap. “It, uh… involves him actually…” This was where it got real. Unexpected tears suddenly rushed into her eyes, her chest feeling hot, while her throat started to close up.

The couple observing exchanged a glance, noticing her change in demeanor instantly. However, the longer they sat there, the more emotional Tara seemed to get.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay, Tara,” Anika rushed to calm her, getting up from her seat, when she saw the youngest’s figure shudder with a small sob. She knelt down next to her and wiped the tears that had started to fall.

But this just made Tara feel even more helpless as she drew her arms away from resting on the table-top to hug her torso, spine curving outward to hang her head further. “N-no, it’s not okay!” she cried, her voice pitched and whimper-like in trying to keep quiet.

“Yes, it is, T,” Mindy instantly told her, moving away from the table as well to go help comfort her. She came around and took the chair right next to her. “It is okay. Whatever it is, we can fix it or we can help you through it,” she soothed, gently beginning to rub her back in small circles. “Is this a coming-out thing?” She asked this, on account that what she was hiding concerned Chad and she hadn’t discussed it with Sam first, which was very weird for her. With how emotional she was becoming, it might suggest her having to break his heart, if hers no longer beat in the same direction.

However, Carpenter shook her head. “Mm— No…” She loved Chad. She loved him so much, which was why this was so hard. She didn’t know how he’d take it, because she didn’t even know how she could take it. There were options, of course, but it wasn’t just up to her.

He was responsible for this just as much as she was.

“Tara.”

She glanced up with watery eyes to find Anika’s calm and comforting ones blinking back at her.

“Take a deep breath… and tell us what you need to say.”

This was it. The point of no return. Tara closed her eyes, swallowed back the accumulated drainage clogging her esophagus, and took a deep breath. She felt Anika’s touch on her leg begin to pet her in a similar motion that Mindy was performing on her upper back. Her stomach twinged, which made her loosen her arms’ tight hold on it. She didn’t dare open her eyes.

“I’m pregnant.”

All my best! ♡ - parker

#scream #scream v #scream vi #sam carpenter #tara carpenter #carpenter sisters #scream au #chad meeks martin #mindy meeks martin #anika kayoko #tara x chad #tara carpenter x chad meeks martin #ao3 #ao3 author #ao3 writer #ao3 fanfic #30 day writing challenge #confession

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puppiesandnightlock · 8 months

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LINK: Goodbye Was Not Our End

Summary: Jon and Damian had made peace with the fact that they would never reconnect. Every little part of their childhood history, built up since preschool had come crashing down, both leaving hidden feelings unsaid. But now, five years later, they have the opportunity to fix everything that had gone wrong, and maybe, just maybe, they could make it something more.

Sometimes, all you need is a second chance.

set directly after A Robin's Song

The phone was taunting him.

It was dark green, a silver W on the back, and a clear case with a robin on it, and currently it was lying on the floor after being viciously thrown to the carpeted floor of Damian’s apartment.

Said person was pressed up against the bottom of his bed, mimicking a frightened cat, hair raised and all. Tears had dried quickly as the shock quickly overcame every other emotion in his mind.

The phone buzzed and he jumped, crouching down to poke at the tech and flip it over before drawing his hand back.

This could not be happening.

When everything had first occurred , he’d been plunged into the deepest, darkest canyon of his mind and emotions, no way out and no one to help him. He wallowed and oh, how he tried to drown himself in the abyss.

He’d begged no one and everyone for a second chance, a moment back, just one more glimpse of what their lives had once been. His nights had been filled with quiet sobs and fitful sleep, before eventually going numb.

Everyone around him tried to lift him up, help him out, save him from drowning. There was therapy and medication and the thing that was there when he finally, finally, finally had a grasp on the rope to be lifted out, was his family, his friends, and his music.

Slowly, busying his mind with the music, he built his life back up, starting something new for himself.

And now?

Now he felt like he was back where he started, the repressed memories and the joy and the excruciating heartbreak overwhelming him, all topped with a healthy dose of fear.

He shut his eyes, inhaling deeply. It was a conversation. He had wanted this conversation for so long, and had always dreamed of a moment where he could try and get back what he had missed for so long.

When he opened his eyes, he made a grab for the phone, immediately clicking on the message saying he had a new DM.

Written across the screen were the words “Hey, D. Missed you.”

He turned around and promptly screamed into his pillow. Something burst inside of him, something fearful and tentative, but at the same time hopeful.

So, so, hopeful.

He typed in a response, deleting it just as soon as it appeared.

What do you say in a situation like this?

An ‘i missed you too’ should suffice. He scanned the little box and deleted it. Too longing in the way his voice read it back to him

Should he just type back a hi? Maybe a familiar nickname? Was he still allowed to call him that?

Every little thing was put on trial and was thrown out, and before he knew it, fifteen minutes had passed.

He gave up, getting up to pace around his home in an attempt to shake the anxiety filling him.

Their cat, Alfred, jumped on the counter as Damian began to brew some tea, absent-mindedly running his fingers through the cat’s short fluff.

“What am I doing?” He murmured to him, voice softly mournful. “What are we doing?”

Alfred meowed at him, and Damian nodded wearily. “Wise advice, Alfred.”

He inhaled the steam from his tea, wrapping his hands around the mug and absorbing its warmth.

Damian retrieved his phone after a bit, clicking on a few messages he had missed with the friends he’d kept from high school, plus someone from the studio he grew close to as he had first started out in his career.

You Can’t Sit With Us (five people)

gotSkyhighdreams: My 2 gradrs hate me u guys [cleanup.img]

Turninurfuckinbooks: this is why i don’t allow paint around small gremlins.

Colinator: could never be me fr

unmatchdwittyandQUEEN: rip sky

flyROBINfly: hey you guys something happened

Damian took a screenshot of the dm and cropped it, watching their messages pile on top of each other on screen.

You Can’t Sit With Us (five people)

Turninurfuckinbooks: what did you do.

gotSkyhighdreams: did you kill someone

Colinator: if you did i’ll help hide the body if u need

unmatchdwittyandQUEEN: same just say the word an ill bring a shovel

flyROBINfly: do any of you watch my streams

Turninurfuckinbooks: not unless a compilation or an edit of u being stupid shows up

Colinator:same tbh

UunmatchdwittyandQUEEN: if the internet doesnt shut up abt a certain interview

gotSkyhighdreams: when im on my lunch break ye

flyROBINfly: first off akira colin you are both dead to me

Second do you guys remember jon

Damian winced as the phone began to blow up, practically jumping from his hands with the pings that began to blow up his phone. It was a rather stupid question but he asked it anyway.

You Can’t Sit With Us (five people)

Turninurfuckinbooks: do we remember jon he asks

Colinator: jon, who you ask me abt every six months without fail bc i have his instagram

unmatchdwittyandQUEEN: jon who is forever known as that bitch in my heart

gotSkyhighdreams: nono we don’t at all remember the drama of the year that brought us together and kickstarted ur career

Turninurfuckinbooks: who you still pine for but have mostly forgotten about so you say

flyROBINfly: there has been no pining fuck off

Colinator: swear jar

flyROBINfly: anyways [screenshot.img]

gotSkyhighdreams: R U SRS

Turninurfuckinbooks: TF????

Colinator: WHAT

unmatchdwittyandQUEEN: EXCUSE ME?!?!

flyROBINfly: what do i say???

Turninurfuckinbooks: block him

gotSkyhighdreams: say hi back??

Colinator: ask him for his insta so u can check urself

unmatchdwittyandQUEEN: block him

flyROBINfly: so so helpful, all of you

never mind i’ll deal with it

The responses were overwhelming, but he felt petty and ignored them, setting his phone down and picking up the cat, setting Alfred on his stomach as he leaned back on the couch of the apartment.

“I’ve waited for this moment a long time, Alfred.” he informed the cat. “So very long and every planned thing left my mind the moment I saw him again.”

“What do you suppose he’s done now? Heard he got married, maybe he has a kid.”

Alfred meowed at him and he nodded. “I suppose you’re right. What would I ever do without you?”

That was how Duke found him thirty minutes later, lying on the couch having an avid conversation with their cat.

He dropped his keys on the entrance table and his messenger bag hung on the coat rack, Damian sitting up.

“I am having a crisis.”

“When are you not?” Duke responded dryly.

“Sarcasm is unbecoming and quite frankly patronizing at this moment.” Damian sniffed, Alfred wiggling out of his grapes and stalking over to Duke, rubbing his fur all over his ankles.

“I’m assuming it has something to do with today’s stream, right?” Duke pulled out his phone, waving it at him.

The online articles were blowing up, as well as various platforms. “I thought I'd ask you first before clicking on this.”

The feelings returned, an anxious churning sensation swirling around him and creating a lump at the back of his throat, pressing down and making the tearful feeling rear its head.

“I…it's Jon.” He pulled up the message and held it out, watching the impact of the words settle on his brother’s faces, eyes moving across his screen multiple times.

“Kent? Jonathan Kent? Are you sure it’s him?” He squeaked.

Damian nodded, the initial shock and feelings having faded slightly, although the remaining ones were funneled into anxiety, leg bouncing rapidly and fingertips tapping out a familiar rhythm.

“Did you respond?” He shook his head and Duke made a pained noise.

“So, you've been waiting for this for five years and the thing you do is leave him on read?”

Damian looked horrified. “Oh my God. Oh my God. Oh my God, he must think I'm such an asshole.”

Duke winced. “Well, I mean, this is a very telling moment for the both of you, I'm sure he understands, just respond.”

“What do I say??” Damian agonized over the phone, draping himself on the couch, and Duke was about fifty percent certain that their younger siblings spirits had come to possess Damian with their dramatic natures.

“Just say Hi. A simple hello, how have you been?” Duke prompted, nudging him. “If he’s an asshole, you know the rest of us will beat his ass for you.”

“Swear jar.” Damian said half-heartedly.

“I’m an ADULT!”

Duke got up but not before nudging Damian on the shoulder “I’m going to go and do some work, and when I come back, I expect to see a message sent.”

“I am older than you.” Damian scowled.

“And when you act it, I'll acknowledge that.” Duke had a shit eating grin on his face. “Dames, you mothered all of us pretty well til you left the house, so feel free to act your age or whatever.”

Sighing, Damian stared at the familiar logo on his screen. Nothing elaborate, just a diamond S in blue, red and yellow. They’d made them when they were younger, Damain creating the R symbol that came to be well known.

With a deep breath, he typed back, staring at his screen and waiting for the little bubbles to pop up, showing Jon was typing back a response.

It had been three hours since he’d sent the message to Damian, the typing bubbles popping up and dying back down just as quickly. The jumpiness caught up to him, obsessively checking his phone and pacing up and down his hallway.

Kathy Brandon, someone he’d met his freshman year of college and quickly bonded with, had sent him links to people talking about both him and Damian followed by a demand for an explanation. Talking about it had calmed his nerves a bit, but he was still jumpy.

He’d gone out an hour after to pick up something, and had returned slightly more relaxed. He was attempting to edit the article he’d been assigned, procrastinating on his Chem homework, when finally, finally finally, a notification lit up his phone.

Jon_Kent

Hey, D

Missed you.

ROBIN_Offical

Hello, Jon.

You already know I share your sentiment.

How have you been? It’s been…awhile.

Jeez, looks like sometime in these past few years Damian had swallowed a dictionary. Or was he upset? A grudge was understandable, but the way he’d sounded on the video…

Jon knew both of them wanted to reconcile, even if this new way of communication was slightly off-putting.

Jon_Kent

I’ve been alright.

lots of ups and downs from the few years

what about you? How’s ur family?

ROBIN_Official

They are doing well, as am I.

Duke and I have been staying outside of Gotham U

stephanie often stays with us

Are you still in Metropolis?

Jon winced at the way the conversation was read out. It was stilted and awkward, even over text. There was nothing relatively interesting about this, unlike when they were younger, never an awkward moment left between them, never running out of things to talk about.

Jon_Kent

yup, still here

Gotham U, huh? Thats not too far from here

ROBIN_Official

no, not very

I’m glad I was able to talk to you again.

Damian’s heart was pounding as he hit send. The message could be received in a few ways, and he hoped he wasn’t being too forward too early into the stiff conversation.

Jon_Kent

me too damian

I wasnt lying, i have missed you

i feel like this is a conversation better held in person then over phone

ROBIN_Official is typing…

Jon chewed on his bottom lip, having moved from the table to the kitchen counter. He wanted to see him in person, see the change and the things time had eroded from the image in his memory. Surely, in person the conversation would flow more, bring an atmosphere much closer to the way they used to be.

ROBIN_Official

Would you like to meet sometime this week?

I will have to check my schedule but i believe i’m free this friday

Damian was lying. He knew for a fact he was free on Friday, hell, he worked from home most days and could get away with driving to Metropolis tomorrow if he wanted, but rushing headfirst into a situation that required time most of all was something he didn't want to do.

Jon_Kent

that sounds good for me!

theres a nice little cafe around my apartment

we can meet up there if you want?

ROBIN_Official

sounds good. Send me the address and i’ll see you then

It sounded much more like he was organizing an appointment, but that was fine. God, he said yes. Jon let out a breathy laugh, hand over his mouth and he read the words again and again.

Little footsteps pattered into the kitchen, and Jon set down his phone, looking down at a little girl with tanned skin, raven curls, and freckles.

“Daddy, hungry.”

He smiled softly, lifting her up and setting her on his hip. “How does mac ‘n cheese sound, princess?”

Damian sat up, the anxiety resurfacing with a topping of nerves churning in his stomach. He took a screenshot, sending it to his friends, before announcing to Alfred the cat,

“Well, this Friday, I'm going to see my estranged best friend, who I pined for uselessly for somewhere around four years, and who I most certainly no longer have feelings for. We’re going to talk it out like the adults we are, and everything will be fine. How has your day been?”

The cat’s judgemental stare and incredulous meow was the only response he got.

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twistedthings · 1 year

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𝖔𝖕𝖊𝖓 𝖙𝖔: m/f/anyone 𝖕𝖑𝖔𝖙: Jeremy is a golden boy homicide detective with the dark secret that he is a serial killer, while out getting a breakfast order he spots your muse & instantly becomes obsessed. hmu in DMS if you’d like to plot this out more~

The mid-morning sun had just broken through the overcast clouds when Jeremy pushed open the door to a coffee shop, he was on duty but looked like any other patron walking into a coffee shop, typing away at a message in reply to his partner as he entered the place. Shaking the briskness of the morning off his shoulders the detective glanced up from his phone, pocketing the thing as he slowed his approach to the counter long enough to catch sight of everyone in the establishment. With that glance Jeremy had found his newest obsession, it was a feeling, perhaps the only thing he could feel– it started in his gut, cold and churning before it moved up into his chest to start his heart into a race. It took him a moment to focus on the menu after it happened, the barista was more than willing to give him all the time he needed, still, he apologized, ordered and then paid. He had to see them again, make sure they were real.

The tall man moved over to the area where he would wait for his order, tugging out his phone again, shaking his head once slightly to rid the gnawing urge to look at them once more, just a glimpse. But he controlled himself, pushed the sensations down, reading the reply he’d gotten from his partner from the text he’d sent earlier and then he glanced over where they sat. They were beautiful, tucked away in their own little world, pouring over what was on the table before them, Jeremy studied them for a few more seconds before his order was called out and he retrieved it.

It was out of his way, but not entirely so, he made it casual though, walking near their table, he slowed his step just a bit once he was in better eyesight, quickly scanning over their set up before he paused in stride, topic of conversation picked. “Careful reading that in public, people might believe you’re planning on killing someone,” he said, gesturing to one of the books, recognizing the title and author, a small smirk played at his lips before he shifted to stand opposite them on the other side of the table, still in the little walkway between tables, as if he didn’t have intentions on staying very long, despite his starting a conversation or at least trying to. “– I think it’s for a research paper or something similar, but, I’m really good at picking the bad guy out in a room.” In all cases, Jeremy was the bad guy in the room.

#indie rp #indie dark rp #indie horror rp #indie para rp #indie bi rp #indie crime rp #indie mafia rp #indie mutant rp #indie open starter #open starter #| int. Jeremy |

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ftmtftm · 1 year

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It does kinda seem that you put a whole possible group of people on blast for one kid's dumbass "joke". This is going to have repercussions that are a bit too harsh for the crime of being young and unfunny, as people are already making posts talking about sending them rape threats, suicide baiting them, and doxing them. Calling attention to this on your big blog probably wasn't the best move, even if you felt the need to distance yourself in a "its not me, its them officer" type move. This doesn't need anymore attention. It should've been handled privately with the user who originally made the joke, but I guess that's tumblr for you. Everything needs to be a circus.

I hope you're deleting any replies that are listing urls in your notes bc if you let that happen on your post, on your blog, and it goes too far, you'll have some perverbial blood on your hands too.

Hey, so first and foremost to address the very end of your ask: I have not seen anyone listing URLs in my replies or reblogs and if anyone has been doing that I would appreciate it being brought to my attention so I can delete it! I've scrubbed through the notes and my activity and cannot find anything, so if something has slipped through the cracks please tell me!

Secondly, and also related to the end of your ask, I really don't appreciate the guilt trippy nature of this ask at all! If you want to have a discussion about platforms and the way people use them, by all means we can have that conversation, but I'd prefer if it was had without the typical Tumblr accusatory guilt trip tonality. I'm addressing this upfront because addressing someone in the way you've addressed me really isn't how a productive conversation is had, but I wanna take the opportunity to try to have one. Let's just talk without trying to make each other feel bad to try to prove a point, okay?

I do agree that I should have put more thought into my post and also I should not have made it while I was on my lunch break at work. I had less control over the response to it than I would've liked and also left people in my DMs waiting on a reply in a way I'm sure was stressful. I'm not used to my posts gaining that much attention that quickly and that is on me for not having thought about that possibly.

I do think that I made it abundantly clear that I don't support the harassment of anyone, ever and that harassment and targeting individuals wasn't the goal of the post once I was able to. I do apologize that it wasn't something I was necessarily thinking about it the moment and that my comments were not soon enough to beat some of Tumblr's worst to the punch.

This is where I'm sure some people will disagree with me, but do I pretty firmly believe in openly, publicly talking about the failures of and issues within my own communities. I don't think there is anything to be gained from trying to shy away from it or trying to be quiet about it, especially when shying away or burying it just tends to lead to entire community collapse in the long run in my experience. That is why I made a post publicly about it in the first place.

I'm going to go more in depth into my reasoning for making a public post here, but if that doesn't interest you that's okay! The previous paragraph sums up my feelings pretty concisely, this next section is just expanding on it.

This is a new~ish blog, but I've been active on and off in Tumblr discourse spaces since I was about 16 so I'm looking at this informed by about a decade of experiences. The thing I've seen that happens most often is once people who aren't used to a giant influx of attention get that attention, especially if it is negative, things tend to get extremely sour extremely quickly. Usually this results in taunting, feeling like you need to get the last word in with a quippy remark, slippery slope-ing, and a lot of assumptions and poor taste comments that come from very real upset and distress. Those responses then get used as more fuel for the fire and it just continues and continues and continues really until someone deletes or abandons their blog. That's absolutely not to discredit the very real distress that is happening, but instead to call attention to this cycle that happens all the time.

I personally partially attribute the nature of this cycle to the fact that no one on the internet (especially on Tumblr) really knows how to healthily disengage because the internet is a culture all about engagement (especially negative engagement), but that's a topic for another post. The reason why I bring up the cycle is because in all of that individuals tend to get mean, defensive, and deflective and say things they might not actually mean or reflect extremely poorly out of context.

That's what has been happening with multiple people I follow the last few days, not just with one or two individuals. When a culture like that begins to take shape I think it's important to openly address the ways in which it is manifesting, especially when it includes a public joke about the oppression of another marginalized group. Like I said earlier, I do think I should have gone about it better in the ways I've already described but what's done is done in that regard. I also would like to address the fact that I explicitly, intentionally did not name individuals because there was already a harassment campaign happening and I did not want to directly contribute to that. Again, I see the failures within that especially given my own personal timing, I just want to give context for anyone reading this ask.

Again, you're more than allowed to disagree with my feelings or my responses/lack of response due to other constraints and you can extrapolate as much ill will and negativity from it all as you'd like. I can't control the thoughts and actions of other people. I do, however, know myself and I know how I feel and while I do believe I should have been more thoughful about my timing and wording I don't have any issue with openly addressing actions I disagree with in communities I'm in. Especially ones like that. That's not really going to change because of an anon slippery slope-ing about proverbial blood on my hands in my askbox.

I also want to add on the end here that I don't particularly like the accusation that I'm a "big blog" when before I made that post I had under 200 followers. Sure, I'm vocal, I've got a decently put together mobile layout, and I speak like I know what I'm talking about, but I'm that doesn't make me a "big blog" - I've just been on Tumblr for a decade and know my way around most of the time (though, as I think this shows, I'm also still human and have my own blind spots like everyone else).

#asks #anon

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myrrhmaidwrites · 1 year

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Sunstruck Writing Wrap-Up

I think I’m going to start posting writing wrap ups here for my own benefit. Writing about writing is supposed to make you better at it, or something.

This fic was not only my longest ever, but it also ended up spanning 12 google docs, 6 Word files, 8 pages in Notion, and 100+ DMs. If you think my writing process could use some improved organization, well, you’re right.

Originally, Sunstruck was about Trevor writing the book. He had finished it, and the book was in some ways a love letter to Jamie, and a lot of their conversations revolved around what was in the book. (Have you read The Next Next One? Yeah.)

Anyway, that didn’t end up happening. Somewhere along the way I switched the story to Jamie’s POV and moved away from the book idea. I just couldn’t get it to fit. I don’t think I’ll write a sequel to this, but if I did, it would be Trevor POV and it would be about the book.

Now I’m going to talk a little about the writing process for this fic.

16k words isn’t that many for a lot of people. For me, it’s the longest thing I’ve ever written, and I think that deserves some note. Woo! May there be longer fics to come. Also I genuinely have no idea how people write novels, haha. Practice, I suppose.

Shortly before I started this fic, I did some reading about various approaches to the editing process. The method I ended up using, which worked well for me, was to basically just get some words down for the first draft (“shitty first draft), and then rewrite the whole draft based on that. This worked well for me because I was able to get the pure words down pretty well via writing sprints and typing on my phone in bed before I went to sleep.

Then came the rewriting. I took one scene, slapped it in a column on Notion, and used it as a guide to write a new version of that scene. No copy+paste allowed, but I could rewrite the original words if I did want to keep them. I almost never kept them exactly. The second version of scenes were almost always better than the first.

During this period is when the story feels most like a confusing mess that I have to muddle through. I have scenes missing that I don’t know I need, I have to rearrange things and delete things and realize that something I wrote won’t work anymore because I changed something earlier. I’m constantly re-outlining, adding notes to scenes, writing new bits and deleting them, etc.

To give you an idea of some of the things I changed in this stage, in an earlier version of the fic, Jamie said something really heartfelt for Trevor’s video and they cut most of it out for the public video. Trevor only sees it after the Ducks staff send him the full video, and their reunion/get together scene happens at home the day after the ceremony.

At another point, I really wanted to have that long distance/breakup/dark night of the soul moment that would require a big gesture from Jamie (flying across the country for Trevor or similar). In the end, I couldn’t get it to work, so we have the condensed crisis that starts during the sex scene. I’m not mad about that change, but I do sometimes wonder if I could have made that scene hit harder if the separation/downturn had been worse.

Anyway, after getting through this horrible muddled mess, there’s a third re-writing, where I have the scenes mostly in order and I go through and rewrite everything from beginning to end for a third time. This time around, there’s a lot more that stays the same. What’s nice about the earlier stages is that when I write something I don’t like so much, I don’t have to worry about it at the moment because there’s an incredibly low chance it’ll make it to the final fic.

After the third rewriting is when I like to loop in my beta reader. I usually try to have a couple of specific questions for them as they read. I think technically this is called alpha reading (and beta reading is just for spelling/grammar), but if I’m honest, I need this kind of help more.

Then I go about incorporating changes from my beta reader, which usually involves a major overhaul of 1-2 scenes, almost always the finale and another scene in the second half of the fic.

After that, I go through and re-read the fic in order and look for places where I need to make major additions. This typically includes descriptions of emotions or settings and additions to dialogue where characters get to the point of what they’re trying to say far more quickly than is realistic.

Finally, in the last couple of days before posting, I look at sentence structure and word choice. I tend to use the same sentence structures over and over in my writing as well as certain words. In this phase, I try to mix it up as much more and make the sentences and words sound interesting.

In the “adding” and “sentence structure” phases of this fic, I added about 5k words. Yep, the fic was only about 11.5k words before this. That means the fic my beta reader read, while kind of close to the finished version, is also hugely different from the fic up on ao3. It’s kind of crazy to think about.

Finally, I do one last read for typos, and the fic goes up.

There’s one thing about this fic experience (and others I’ve had) that I haven’t really gotten to talk about yet, though.

This fic was part of a big bang, and as a part of that, I worked with a hard deadline, and I also had an artist relying on me to be finished so we could post at the same time. Last year, I participated in an exchange that had a similar type of deadline.

Both times, I’ve had horrible insomnia for ~3 weeks leading up to the deadline. We’re talking 3+ weeks of not sleeping, sleeping extremely poorly, or not sleeping without pills. (And I’m talking sedatives here, not melatonin. God, I wish melatonin did something useful for me.)

It didn’t matter that I could have pushed the deadline back. It didn’t matter that I could have just dropped out. It didn’t matter that I was actually quite on top of this fic and not particularly concerned about finishing on time. My brain was not interested in sleeping.

Luckily, I got through it. Most of this week after posting the fic I slept just fine. But it does make me think about whether doing something like this is useful for me, or sustainable in the long run. I really love the community aspect of writing fic. I doubt that without doing a bigbang that my fics would have art made for them. I doubt I would have produced such a long fic so quickly without a deadline.

Maybe these are just things that I need to accept about myself. If I don’t want to cause myself weeks of insomnia (and I don’t because it fucking sucks), maybe I need to just accept that. Really what I need to do is probably talk to my therapist about this, but it’s hard.

Does this happen to anyone else? Just me? Okay.

To end this on a less depressing note, one final observation I want to mention is that after I choose one fic to concentrate on, my ideas for other fics tend to slow down, and then once that idea is close to wrapping, they tend to speed up again. Now I’m stuck in the middle of 4-5 fic ideas and I want to write all of them. Of course I don’t have the time, and I’m sure I’ll end up concentrating on just one or two eventually. But for now I have like five different gdocs that I want to keep open at all times. It makes me wish I didn’t have a job so I could just write. (Plus my two anons that I owe fics to…oops!)

If you read this far, thank you. Sometimes it’s nice to hear whispers in the void when you know you should expect silence.

#retirement fic #writing wrap up #posting this at 11:30 on a saturday so it can vanish into the ether

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twistedthingsa · 2 years

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#indie rp #indie serial killer rp #indie horror rp #indie mafia rp #indie crime rp #indie para rp #indie mutant rp #indie hannibal rp #indie mature rp #open starter #| int. Jeremy |#tw: stalking

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kimnjss · 2 years

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Oh ooor Hobert. The man is truly setting himself up for failure and hurting his own feelings at this point. I do understand that unlike YN he doesn't have this divide on how to act because he's in the know so feelings from in person interactions slide into the online ones. And since he came out the gate as a wannabe sugar daddy online she's not giving the same energy as irl her. Though I do question if he isn't trying as hard in her DMs or if she's just more resistant. She does clearly have him in a box online, but we saw how thrown off she was when he was being not horny with her via his anon so I can't tell if he's just not as in it because he got some of what he wanted at the strip club or she realized he was getting too personal and just started shutting that down.

Idk if that made sense because my thoughts got muddled for a second LOL.

Anyway Akri came on strong and I respect it. But poor JK truly set himself up by lurking on her account. It was a cute attempt though. I'm intrigued to see her in the mix, especially if JK brings her to the club while the other girls are there. Which I assume is happening since you mentioned a them all becoming friends.

And now that I think of it I imagine the girls are going to play an important role into YN seeing more with/going after Hobi. They're both very bold and I assume Akri is emotionally available enough for this.

HONESTLY. nd jin called in from jump - like??? you knew you wanted to date the girl so wHY would you approach her as if you could handle all your interactions being strictly transactional 🥴 he's starting to feel some type of way that he's not getting the attention that he does when he's with her face to face (which isn't that special bc she's also WORKING) nd it literally does not make sense bc yeah ., she really only sees him as another client . nd it def was her shutting down his nonsexual advances online that's shown him . we don't see much of it ., but him asking her abt her day nd trying to have actual conversations happens quite often - nd she's always the one to steer it back to 'just get what you came for nd go' . bc she honestly doesn't think he wants to have these conversations but instead is trying to make the interaction less awkward . the real hoseok is so far from her mind when she's talking to him through his anon ., so the shy guy behavior that she's used to seeing from him isn't a factor . if she knew it was him ., she'd def spend more time chatting before she was asking for payment .

she's definitely one of the strongest soldiers ! bc if jungkook rejected me like that??? so blatant like wtf 'i'm not interested.' i don't think i would've been able to recover the way she had . literally just brushed off what he was saying nd went on with what she came for - which she was right to do bc he CLEARLY was lying to himself after lurking all the way back to 2019 💀 nd yesss ! they're all gonna meet soon ., like if you think the groups are chaotic right now - jus wait until all the girls are together nd feeding off of each others energies??? 😳

yn def needs a push in the right direction when it comes to hobi - nd that's not going to come from jungkook 'i'm probably fucking your mom' jeon ., or taehyung 'i have a crush on my best friend nd refuse to talk abt it' kim nd absolutely not ! jimin 'i don't know if i like the attention or if it's you' park . soooo hopefully the girls are able to give her the push she needs !

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the-wayward-snowflake · 2 years

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KNOWING YOUR PARTNER WELL CAN POTENTIALLY MAKE WRITING TOGETHER A LOT EASIER. ( REPOST DO NOT REBLOG ! )

✿ NAME: I’m Ari. I have used Ari Shae (and well ShadesOfLetters) as my pen name for years.

✿ PRONOUNS: she/her

✿ PREFERENCE OF COMMUNICATION: Guys, I am on discord if you’re ever interested. My instagram and twitter dms are also available. The messaging on tumblr isn’t as reliable for me because I don’t always have my Ipad on me or my laptop near me. I do tend to respond rather quickly when I have my phone on me. I’m a tad shy, but once you get me going... You’d be shocked because I do tend to get excited about talking about others characters and mine.

✿ NAME OF MUSE(S): Isolde! My beloved.

✿ EXPERIENCE/HOW LONG (MONTHS / YEARS?): More like a couple weeks. A month even? I haven’t done this for long at all. I’ve been writing for years, but I have never really taken part of RP before. Oh! But I do have theatre experience. I think like five years of theatre? I was mostly a light techie, but I dabbled in acting. I learned I bounced off other people better.

✿ PLATFORMS YOU’VE USED: For RP so far I have only used tumblr.

✿ BEST EXPERIENCE: Okay so, first off. I think a mini shoutout is in order because @sylvctica actually got me going and told me everything I needed to note. Hell, I was given a google doc. Which was so nice. So, I’d say getting into it I had a good time.

But with that said, dear lord. The harem conversation had me DYING. I said one thing and suddenly a downward spiral happened. It was just so funny seeing how things went down. I just had a blast that day, I sat back and watched everything go down until I realized Isolde probably should be hiding! I don’t, I have had a great time so far despite being a shy coffee bean.

RP is like the OC version of social media, but everyone is unhinged and living their best lives.

✿ RP PET PEEVES/DEALBREAKERS: I haven’t experienced much to say I have a pet peeve. But the one thing I will say is when I check out a profile and they say to read their rules, they don’t have a link anywhere prominent and you have to dig through posts. If I don’t see them, it’s kind of a deal breaker for me.

✿ FLUFF, ANGST OR SMUT: I am cool with fluff, suggestive even. I am good with angst too. I’ll write a whole range of emotions. But... I. WILL. NOT. WRITE. SMUT. I have no issue seeing it. I just don’t like writing it. (sometimes people are really good at it though, like damn)

✿ PLOTS OR MEMES: Honestly, I am cool with both. I have not really had a chance to plot with anyone yet, but I am always open to it. You can always message me and I’ll get back to you. You can also as for my discord if you want it. I have grown to really enjoy meme-ing the shit out of my characters lately. I do enjoy both very much.

✿ LONG OR SHORT REPLIES: I can do both. As of the moment I’ve only been doing shorter responses. I have not gotten a chance to write longer posts with people. If you want to do that, just let me know and understand the longer ones will take a bit of time for me to get out.

✿ BEST TIME TO WRITE: Any time inspiration hits me. Most the time that inspiration comes during the middle of the night. There I am, at my laptop, typing away because I got an idea I didn’t want to forget in the morning. Right now it’s 7am when I am making this. It’s just whenever for me. Hell, I put off my school work in the middle of the afternoon yesterday to polish up a headcanon I wanna post soon.

✿ ARE YOU LIKE YOUR MUSE(S): I always seem to have a tiny bit of me in most my characters. In this sense, I would say the few things I share with me character are patience, asexual, and my love for warm beverages. Oh wait, and the fact that for the first time ever, I have a character that dislikes alcohol. It’s just some tiny things.

#OOC I just wanted to do this to help get to know me better #[About Ari]

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voidcommascreamintothe · 2 months

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My ex came crawling back a few days ago, asking for a second chance. This isn't the first time he's done this. Every few months or so, he dms me, sends a picture or a meme, likes my insta story.

And every time the conversation is the same: "Hi, I miss talking to you," he would say. I would skirt around his bid for attention, give him one word answers and we would leave it at that. Until a few days ago.

I asked him not to contact me again. "Don't write, don't reach out, don't tell me you are around," I pleaded, "It's painful. I don't wanna know."

"Not even tell you? Wouldn't you want to see me if I visit your country again?" He asked, sitting comfortably in a much better part of Europe than mine.

"No," I replied, "I wouldn't want to see you or meet up."

"I don't think I deserve that."

"And I didn't deserve to be ghosted in the middle of a vulnerable conversation all those months ago, but alas," I angrily typed out the words and hit send, the button blurry from unshed tears in my eyes.

We ended it, agreed on no contact, he came back and then ghosted me when I let it all out. I tried to keep our break up conversation civil and omitted some details about how I was feeling. We were long distance had seen each other only a few times. There were not to many strings attached, but for me they ran so deep sometimes it felt like they cut me in half. I realised I was the only one invested and I was the one to end things. He agreed but still misses me.

After I asked him why he did what he did, point blanc, he had to answer. His explanation was, "I felt like it was too much for me and I couldn't deal. I apologise."

And there was my answer.

The conversation was running smoothly, we were joking around right before this, and I was tempted. Oh, I was teetering on the verge of agreeing to meet up again and reconciling. But he told me he felt like my confession of just how deep my feelings were was too much for him. "I don't know what you've done to me woman, but I can't stop thinking about you. I still dream about us, I still hear your moans."

I reread the text a few times, uncertain of how to respond. I've never had this effect on someone, and with very little guilt I admit that it's a nice ego boost. He is saying all the right things in all of his other messages. He says, "If I come over to see you and say I'm ready to commit, it this between us happening?"

A year ago I would've been thrilled to whiteness this confession from him. What I wouldn't have given back then, to have him say this to me. So why does my stomach do somersaults? Why do my lungs and diaphragm feel like they are pinched together?

"I'm not sure," I replied, not knowing what else to say. "I have already moved on; it's been about two years."

"And I'm happy for you, but no other woman I've met compares to you." The three little dots went up and down a few times before his next text came through, "What do you say?"

"I'm exactly like other girls," I never considered this kind of sentiment to be the compliment men think it is. "You need to move on, my love. I have."

He changed the subject, and I was grateful. We talked about Saltburn, how he still hasn't gotten around to seeing Banshees of Inisherin, but the entire time my heart was racing.

I spent the next couple of hours spiralling. My brain cannibalised itself trying to digest this conversation. As I was staring at my ceiling that night, unable to sleep, I realised why I felt like my intestines had turned to snakes. Why I felt like there was an iron mask over my face.

I had moved on.

Too much time had passed, even though it was simultaneously still to soon for me to see him again. He was asking of me something I was willing to give a year and a half ago. He knew me then, the way I was back then. Going back to him meant going back to that version of me.

It meant going back to a dark, dark time in my life that will forever taint my experience with him. Not of his doing, he is a very kind man. But life is unfair. I had gone through hell and back, twice over. It changed me, it made me suffer and however unfair, it tainted an otherwise easy kind of love. He's right, he doesn't deserve our potential future being cut clean off because of what happened, especially since it had nothing to do with him. But I didn't deserve what happened to me either.

I bear no shame in admitting just how desperate I was to get out of that bottomless chasm.

I bear no shame and freely admit how I desperately clawed my way out, continuing long after my fingers bled. I got out, I climbed that mountain, and now I sit on the summit breathing fresh air.

My intestines no longer feel like serpentine creatures threatening to devour me from the inside. My breaths are even and no longer feel like I'm breathing the last of my oxygen in a coffin. I watch the sunsets with a smile on my face instead of dread creeping up like bile because a new day will come tomorrow.

He's a sweet man, but we wanted different things. I will not let him convince me to climb down from the very top of my mountain, even if it means sacrificing a potential future of blissful love.

I am no longer an understanding victim who acknowledges that it's unfair and tries to console him. I am a hardened, tested, cut-throat bitch. It's unfair but tough shit, such is life.

I look down to the root of the rocky mountain I climbed and I see the version of me that I will forever associate with that time period. I know what she need, she knows what she need, but now I'm the one strong enough to not compromise and to stay firm. No boundaries will be crossed, no one will beguile me (or her, for she is with in me) into going back to a place where the worms eats our brain and the snakes in our stomach try to crawl out through our belly button.

I remain, steadfast.

I am the rock against which the surf crashes.

Nothing can break me.

#a journal entry #grief journal

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seeklovenet · 2 years

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crystalkleure · 2 years

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@ DID/OSDD anon, I’m sorry but I cannot keep answering asks like these because I have to post them publicly. These are extremely loaded subjects you keep touching on and me discussing them on my blog, no matter what I even say, will attract people wanting to start massive fights in my notifications about it.

#This is a type of conversation that would need to happen through DMs #I'm deeply uncomfortable having said even as much as I already have about the matter because I don't want a lot of attention on me for it #People were doxxing eachother over these things very recently #It's really not safe for me to talk about these things in public. At least not right now.#I don't want to get called slurs and sent graphic threats that may be credible. No one ever figured out HOW the doxxers were doxxing people #.It speaks #.Maxim 🎩#I'm going to delete that other ask I posted because it is going to bring me extreme trouble no matter how much I beg to be left alone #I am desperate for peace on my blog. I don't get much IRL so I gotta have it here.#I like science and block ableists and transphobes and that's the most I'm willing to state publicly on the subject at this point #I want to talk about anime #That being said; since I'm about to nuke the link I posted earlier:#did-research.org is still one of the best sources of quick and comprehensive info on dissociative disorders #I'd recommend getting your basic info from there rather than from me anyway because it's written so well I'd pretty much just quote it all

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yonkimint · 2 years

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The End is You and I [Taehyung x Reader]

35. We Need to Talk ✎

PREVIOUS - MASTERLIST - NEXT

The days leading up to the next competition are surprisingly calm. The tension among the Boy Scouts eases and while y/n would like to ask what the reason is, she decides it’s better not to beat a dead horse. Tae is back in the fold and that’s all she can ask for. She smiles at all of them now, at their laser focus while Hobi counts out steps and they all follow along in the mirror.

At the last minute, they decided to add a new dance break to their final set and the choreography is complicated to put it mildly. y/n doesn’t envy them as Hobi critiques footwork over and over. She snuggles deeper into the oversized hoodie she stole from her brother’s closet and opens up Twitter to make some headway in her DMs for the Bangtan Secret.

Just as she’s about to look up a breathing technique for a message on test anxiety, another dance student pokes her head into the studio and pauses their music. Her face is round and pretty, her eyes squinted in apology.

She holds up her phone — which is open to a weather app — and says, “I’m just going room to room letting everyone know the weather service issued a storm warning. The dance professors are asking everyone to head home early for the day.”

The sky had been gray the last couple of days and they were due for a downpour. y/n couldn’t help but be a little excited. Every time it stormed, the Boy Scouts camped out at her and Hobi’s apartment, eating jjigae and watching scary movies until they fell asleep or they lost power. If that happened, they would take turns passing around y/n’s emergency flashlight and telling spooky stories until Hobi got too scared and made them stop.

“Thanks for letting us know, Seri,” Namjoon says, “We’ll start packing up to leave.”

y/n hops up to help them. She usually shuts down the sound system while they clean the rest of the studio of their sweat and clutter but Tae grabs her by the shoulders and pulls her back. She tenses at the jolt he sends through her, thinking of her conversation with Hana and Mina at the coffee shop the other day.

They had talked about a lot of things of course. School, family, the latest drama… but it somehow circled back around to the break up and the boys. Mina had swatted her for not telling the others about Bogum but y/n stood her ground, insisting it would cause more drama to tell them right now when things were finally settling down.

“It’s going to cause more drama later,” Mina said. Hana’s head bobbed up and down with more enthusiasm than y/n felt the situation merited.

“That’s what I’m saying!”

“Like, I get wanting to make Tae suffer longer cause he’s a little bastard but at least think about the others. They’ll kill you for trying to handle things on your own,” Mina reasoned, quirking her eyebrow to warn y/n off when she had tried to interrupt, “You meddle in their shit all the time, y/n, don’t even try to tell me they won’t find this at the very least hypocritical. They’re going to be offended that you didn’t tell them as soon as it happened.”

y/n buried her head in her arms. She knew the truth of Mina’s words and she knew Mina wasn’t usually the type to scold like this. She always tried to say just enough, never more and never less.

y/n moaned, “I know. Eonnie is mad at me too. To be honest, I’ve been avoiding her texts about Bogum and Tae…”

Hana shook her head in disbelief, “You and Tae really are a perfect pair, aren’t you? You both keep essential information from each other and then get upset that the other didn’t communicate.”

y/n lifted her head and pouted. “Take that back!”

“Talk to your best friend,” Hana retorted, flicking y/n across the forehead. It was enough to ease the tension and they had all burst into laughter as the conversation drifted toward more trivial things.

y/n blinks back to the present and finds Tae studying her face curiously, his palm pressed to the flat of her back between her shoulder blades. His free hand hovers over the aux cord connected to Jimin’s phone. She hopes he didn’t ask her something while she zoned out.

Tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ear, she flashes a tentative smile and elbows him out of the way to take care of the aux cord herself. “I got it, Taetae!”

“What were you thinking about?” he asks, his fingers tickling her skin through the thick fabric of her hoodie.

“Nothing,” she answers reflexively and then, Hana’s words echoing in her mind, she sighs, “I was thinking about how excited I am for scary movies and Jinnie oppa’s jjigae. I hope he makes it extra spicy!”

Tae presses his lips together, fighting the laughter bubbling in his chest. He knows he’s still in the dog house and that he’s supposed to be paying penance or whatever but it’s hard to restrain himself when y/n is being this cute. Now that he’s acknowledged his feelings in some capacity, he wonders how he ever held himself back from her.

Without thinking too hard about it, he wraps his arms around y/n so that her back is pressed snug to his chest and turns his face into her hair to press a soft, barely noticeable kiss to the side of her head. He feels the tremor that runs through her body at his touch but when she twists around in his arms, whatever emotions she’s feeling are concealed behind her gaze.

“I hope it’s extra spicy too,” he says. y/n cocks her eyebrow.

“You hate spicy food,” she reminds him, scrunching her nose at him.

“But it will make you happy,” he reasons. His stomach flips when she laughs at him and wriggles out his embrace.

“You’re ridiculous,” y/n says as she finishes shutting down the sound system.

He’s about to respond when every single phone in the room goes off with an incoming notification. In sync, he and y/n glance around the room as the Boy Scouts check their phones. “Is it another warning about the storm?”

Hobi shakes his head, “It’s noona. She wants a head count for the after party.”

“Assuming the whole city doesn’t flood,” Jin says, glancing towards the door because there are no windows to see out.

“Don’t jinx us like that, hyung!” Jimin whines.

The boys all look up from their phones to see y/n rooted to the spot, her eyes trained solely on her phone screen. The color has drained from her face and she feels so dizzy she thinks she might pass out. A hand — Tae’s — flashes across her line of vision and still she can’t bring her gaze up.

The storm outside isn’t the only one brewing anymore and this one is not one she was prepared for.

It’s Jin who calls to her, “y/n? What is Jiwoo talking about? Did something happen with you and Bogum?”

“Yes,” y/n breathes. She’s not even sure if her voice has carried across the dance studio until Yoongi asks her to elaborate. Her heart is beating so fast against her breast bone. She feels like she just got called to the principal’s office in grade school even though she has never been in trouble. Her brain is no longer thinking rational thoughts.

Run! it tells her, Get out of here! As if she could make it around Tae without him catching her. As if the boys wouldn’t follow her out into the hall. She could try for the bathroom, lock herself inside a stall, and wait for school security to escort them out of the building, leaving her in peace. But they wouldn’t go until she was with them. She knows it.

Okay, she coaches herself, you could lie! Yeah, let’s lie!

But Jiwoo will tell on her for sure. And if not Jiwoo, Mina and Hana also know. And Bogum knows. It’s not likely that the boys will cross paths with him but it’s not impossible either and frankly, she’s lucky she’s gotten away with keeping it a secret for as long as she has.

“y/n,” it’s Tae’s voice, low and gentle, that pulls her out of her panicked thoughts, “you don’t have to tell us if it’s too painful but if you and Bogum broke up, we’re here for you.”

His voice goes lower still so only she can hear when he adds, “I’m here for you.”

Finally, she lifts her gaze, staring into his worried brown eyes, and she can’t help feeling anything but guilty. Because it wasn’t that it was too painful. It wasn’t that she was sad or disappointed or was trying not to burden any of them — all the reasons they would assume she had kept this information from them.

She hadn’t told them about the break up because she wanted to get back at Tae.

And then her guilt hardens back into anger because why should she feel guilty just because he whispers a few nice words that she’s been dying to hear? He can say he’s here for her but where exactly has he been all this time?

“Shut up,” she says instead, stepping back and turning her face away from the hurt her unexpected words have caused, “You can’t say you’re here for me. You haven’t been anywhere near me in months!”

y/n turns to the other Boy Scouts and presses her lips into a tight line, “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you when it happened. Bogum and I decided to call it quits after the double date with Tae and Hana as well. I didn’t tell any of you because I didn’t want it getting back to Tae.”

“That’s a little fucked up, Baby Jung,” Yoongi mumbles.

“A little?” Tae hisses, “You’re such a hypocrite, y/n! You’re gonna be mad at me for not telling you about Hana and then you’re gonna turn around and do the same thing even though I’ve been doing everything in my power to make amends? Just say it’s never gonna be enough then!”

“I just wanted you to have a taste of your own medicine!”

Jimin and Jungkook share a concerned glance. The others shift uncomfortably in their spots around the studio. Are Tae and y/n going to have their big blowout fight in front of everyone? And if they are, is there a way for any of them to politely extricate themselves from the situation?

“Okay, great! You got me! Congratulations, I hope it was worth it!” Tae cries, “At least I wasn’t being vindictive when I didn’t tell you about Hana. I was trying to make sure it was the right fit before I brought her into both of our lives!”

Namjoon interjects, “We’re gonna give you two some privacy. Just please try to get out of the studio before the storm starts, okay?”

The boys beeline for the door, even Hobi, which surprises y/n, and she and Tae are left alone.

y/n’s shoulder slump and she sinks down to the studio floor and hides her face in her hands. In the time it takes for the boys to leave, the tension she’s been carrying since Jiwoo’s threat snaps and she’s left suddenly exhausted.

She hears Tae sigh and peeks through her fingers when she feels him lower himself to the wood paneling, his knees just a breadth away from touching her own. He’s got his chin propped in one long fingers hand, his wavy locks falling over his eyes. His back curls catlike, his shoulders pulling in toward his chest, and for all his bad posture and the pout on his face, he still looks like Adonis.

“We need to talk,” she says.

Tae nods, “Yeah. We really do.”

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moonlit-jeno · 3 years

Text

friends (m.)

pairing: lee jeno x fem reader

genre: explicit sexual content | omegaverse | heat sex | unprotected sex | some name calling

words: 3.6k

don’t like don’t read :)

“Your heat’s coming up.” Jeno says, point blank in between bites of his apple. You just nod, taking a break from your notes to side eye him. It’s not odd for him to know intimate details of your life- you do make sure to keep him updated on your cycle just so that he can send you the notes for the days you miss - but it’s not exactly a common subject for the two of you. “Who are you spending it with?”

There are still 13 powerpoint slides for you to grind through, but you figure a small break won’t hurt. Might as well use the conversation topic for something good, aka a reason to slam your laptop shut. You turn to Jeno, giving your best friend your full attention, and take the iced coffee right out of his hand. He doesn’t protest. “No idea. Would call Jaemin but he’s ‘found the one’ or something, so I’ll probably just spend it by myself.”

“By yourself?” Jeno’s eyebrows shoot up to his hairline as if you’ve just admitted to committing a sin. It’s not like the concept isn’t unheard of, there’s a market full of toys to help you through it. “Isn’t that dangerous?” You shrug and take a sip of the coffee, offering him your smoothie in exchange. He takes a sip and then bites down on your straw. His entire face scrunches and he yanks his face away from the beverage. He pulls the straw up, inspecting the now soggy and dented object with disgust. “Fuck, what is this made out of?”

“Paper.” You huff a laugh out through your nose, taking your smoothie back. “And I mean, it’s not any more dangerous than spending your heat with the wrong person. Plus, my heats get kind of… intense.” If Jaemin sleeping for three days straight and limping after is anything to go by, both parties take the short end of the stick. You’d felt so bad after and apologized to him profusely, but he had just thrown you his signature dazzling grin and told you that drowning in pussy was exactly the way he envisioned himself dying. He definitely didn’t complain about the brownies you’d baked him as a ‘thank you’, though.

“Spend your heat with me.” The bold request has your brain malfunctioning, at a loss for where to even start reacting to his statement. You just stare at him, mouth opening and closing repeatedly while he returns the gaze earnestly. “Look, it makes sense, right? I know you better than anyone, and you already trust me. Plus if they’re as intense as I’ve heard they are, you need someone there.”

You frown, opening your laptop up and staring blankly at the screen just to avoid having to look at Jeno. It does make sense to have him there with you, and it’s not like he’s the worst person to have sex with. Plenty of people around campus have delighted in talking about their nights with Jeno, dreamily telling you how lucky you are to have him and falling deaf to your insistence that the two of you aren’t like that. Plus, you’re not blind and even if you’re not the cute couple everyone thinks you are, you can admit that he’s hot.

“Wait, hang on. What do you mean ‘heard’ about? What shit is Na Jaemin saying?” Jeno’s shoulders shake with his laughter at your sudden concern. “I mean, he didn’t say anything, but that was kind of the problem. He didn’t show up to practice for like a week and when he finally did, he looked like he’d been mauled. Coach had to bench him.”

Your heart drops slightly at hearing that Jaemin’s soccer had been affected. He hadn’t told you that. “Oh.” The guilt must show on your face because Jeno is quickly soothing you, making sure to tell you that they all found Jaemin’s state funny. “Okay, wait. Wouldn’t you have the same problem if you help me?”

“It’s off-season. So, what do you say?” Jeno waits for your response expectantly, eyes soft, curious. “You can say no, y/n. I don’t want to pressure you at all, I’m just letting you know that it’s an option.” “I’ll think about it.” And you do. A concerning amount.

You spend that night tossing and turning, trying and failing to shut your brain off. Worries about ruining your friendship and about hurting Jeno bounce around your brain no matter how much you try to stop thinking about it. What if something bad happens during it? What if you never talk again? And worst of all is your brain telling you that he doesn’t actually want you specifically, he just wants to be with an omega in heat. You’re just convenient.

That thought actually makes you cry and you wrap your blankets even tighter around yourself, sobbing weakly into your pillows. In an effort to distract your wandering mind you grab for your phone, opening instagram to find an influx of dm’s from Jeno. It calms you a bit, the messages ranging from cute dogs to absolutely cursed memes, and you smile softly at the reminder that he’s your best friend, and that he definitely cares about you. Biting your lip, you hesitate for only a few moments before typing out a “you can help”, hitting send before you can second guess it. You lock your phone and set it face down on the dresser, thankfully finding sleep as soon as your head hits the pillow.

It’s hot when you wake up, clothes clinging to your skin uncomfortably. Peeling your shirt off only gives you relief for a moment but then the sticky heat is back full force. You whimper in misery, trying to snuggle back into your bed for at least some comfort, but you find that the corner of your fitted sheet has come up, the rest of your blankets on the floor. There’s only one pillow near you and it’s soaked in sweat. You panic slightly, frantically yanking your sheets back onto the bed and trying to fluff them up as much as possible, only calming down once the bedding has been fixed to your liking. Only once you’ve settled down in the plushness of your blankets do you have a moment of clarity.

“Oh shit.” You shoot up and search for your phone, dropping it once before finally managing to open the correct app. There’s a few messages from Jeno that you don’t bother looking at, going straight for the ‘call’ button. He picks up on the third ring.

“Hello?” He sounds groggy, like he’s just woken up, and a flash of heat runs through you at the low tone. “Why are you calling me at 5 a.m?”

You manage to stop fantasizing about your best friend long enough to choke out the word “Heat.” It comes out pathetic and whiny and you pause to clear your throat, trying to keep a clear head as well. “I’m sorry, my heat came early and I wanted to call you but you can go back to bed, I didn’t realize-”

“Fuck, okay, I’ll be over in 10.” Jeno cuts off your rambling with a swear, some rustling in the background accompanying his words.

“Thank you.” You whisper, setting the phone down and curling up in bed, trying not to focus on how agonizingly slow the time is passing.

Jeno’s looking down at his shoes when you open the door, kicking idly at the door mat and fidgeting with the bag in his hands, though his head snaps up when he notices you. The smile on his face falters when he inhales, turns a little strained as he gets a taste of your heat, and you honestly give him props for the amount of restraint he has. It’s definitely more than you have, at least, because you’re on him the second he’s inside. He ends up sandwiched between you and the door, bag dangling precariously in one hand while he envelopes you in his strong arms. You don’t (can’t) do anything besides bury your face in his chest and whimper, knowing exactly what you want but being too needy and fuzzy to remedy it.

“Jeno, it hurts.” You whimper and lift your face to nose along the skin just above the collar of his shirt, finding that while the skin to skin contact helps, it doesn’t fully relieve the heat scorching through you, the dull ache screaming for Jeno to take you already. “Please…” He holds you closer to his chest, encasing you fully in his scent, and picks you up bridal style. “I’ve got you baby, don’t worry.”

Being around Jeno does help to ease your stress, but it also serves to make you needier. The warm scent that you’ve grown to associate with the man is stronger than you’ve ever smelled it and it’s making you lose your mind more and more by the second. You’re worried that you’re drooling by the time he sets you down on your bed. He pauses to drop the bag he’s holding on the floor, and then he’s on top of you, strong arms caging you in.

The first kiss is soft, chaste. It would be cute if you weren’t so fucking needy, but you are and it’s just not enough. Unsatisfied, you thread your fingers through his hair and tug, nipping at his bottom lip and tilting your head to the side to get a deeper angle. A groan rumbles in his chest and he returns the kiss with more intensity, trying to take control again. You don’t let him, even if every instinct in your body is screaming at you to just submit.

Jeno shifts on top of you, scooting so that he can fully lay down between your legs. You wrap your limbs around him on instinct, pulling him as close as you possibly can and- oh. The close proximity means that you feel everything when he grinds down, and the feeling of having him so close to where you need him has any semblance of control that you had draining out of your body. You gasp pitifully, annoyance clawing at you from the amount of fabric blocking you from what you want.

“Please,” You almost sob, tugging at his shirt while trying to grind your lower half against his, the pressure of his cock against your center making your eyes roll. Jeno pulls back to yank his shirt off and then he’s back, hands sliding down your body to your panties, tugging the fabric down as far as he can before he growls in frustration and just rips the fabric in half.

“Shit, you’re so wet.” Jeno moans in awe, breaking the kiss yet again to marvel at your pussy. “Bet I could just slip right in.” He drags his fingers through the slick on your upper thighs, eyes glued between your legs. You’re just about to complain when he finally presses his fingers into you. The initial relief has you moaning sweetly, though it quickly turns to impatient pleas for his cock. You clench around his fingers, reaching a hand down to palm over where he strains against his sweats.

“I need you to fuck me.” You beg, looking at him with what you hope is a convincing expression. “Please Jen, I need you.” “You have me.” He promises you, flicking his wrist faster, curling his fingers just right. “I’m right here baby.” It’s sweet, and under normal circumstances it would be enough, but right now it’s not what you need and the frustration has you on the brink of tears.

You buck your hips and try to arch up as if it’ll magically make him slip in, but Jeno remains as patient and controlled as ever. It’s too hot and every part of your body is screaming for him to fuck you, for him to claim you, and his refusal is killing you. “Alpha please, I need you.”

He absolutely snarls, pinning down your wriggling body with one hand around your throat. The other hand stays between your legs where it continues to strike pleasure into every single nerve ending you have, adding to the fire already coursing through your veins. “What you need is to take what your Alpha’s giving you. You’re not in charge here, okay?” With his face pressed so close to yours you have no choice but to make direct eye contact, staring straight into the most intense gaze you’ve ever seen. His pupils are blown out so wide that his eyes are almost black. Unable to tear your eyes away and as if in a trance, you find yourself nodding. The corner of his mouth quirks up. “Good girl. Now listen to your Alpha and cum.”

It happens almost instantaneously, as if his words were directly connected to a trigger, your body exploding just as soon as the words leave his mouth. Your entire body locks up, mind going blank as the immense pleasure takes hold of you, leaving you clawing at his back and screaming silently into the air.

The orgasm only serves to thicken the haze in your mind, clouding any thoughts that aren’t related to the Alpha above you and his cock. It takes a moment for your eyes to finally come back into focus enough to make out your surroundings, and you’re greeted by the sight of Jeno with his fingers in his mouth, sucking your essence off of his digits. You’re burning so hot, so much hotter than you think you’ve been before, and it’s hard for you to function. All you can think about is his cock.

“Please,” You beg, swatting at him weakly. “Alpha please, I need you so bad.”

There’s no way that Jeno isn’t being affected by the pheromones clouding the air, but he manages to appear unbothered, his actions rough but nowhere near as desperate as yours. He just laughs lightly at your begging. “Aww, baby needs me?” The rhetorical question is punctuated by a slap, his hand coming down on your pussy hard enough to draw a yelp from you, thighs closing on his hand in a conflicting attempt to relieve the pressure from the hit and keep his hand on your cunt. He laughs meanly and pulls his hand away, drawing back slightly to spit onto your already soaking pussy, rubbing the spit into your skin while he talks. “This pussy belongs to me, yeah? You’re mine now.” Jeno leans down, mouth at your neck so that he can bite at the skin. “That means that I can do whatever I want with you.” You can’t speak, can’t even begin to think about what you should say in this situation. He presses a kiss to your jaw before pulling back and uses his free hand to turn your head so that you make eye contact with him. “Tell Alpha what you need.” “Need Alpha in me.” You beg, plead, flipping yourself over onto your hands and knees and arching your back, presenting yourself to him. “Need your knot, need you to fill me up, breed me, Alpha please-” Your sentence is cut off by his cock slamming into you, the filthy sound being drowned out by his groan. You gasp in relief, breathy thank you’s leaving you with each powerful thrust he delivers. His cock stretches you out so well, makes you go dizzy with the relief of finally having him in you. Your elbows give out nearly instantly, your chest hitting the mattress, and Jeno takes instant advantage of the new position to pull your hips even higher into the air.

It’s so good- almost too good- and it leaves you drooling and clawing at the sheets. All you can focus on is how well he’s fucking you, how he’s going to fill you up so well, breed you like he was meant to.

You scream when he pulls out, alarm bells going off as your body instantly protests. It only lasts a second though, Jeno’s hands never leaving your body as he flips you onto your back.

“Couldn’t see you,” Jeno pants out, dropping a kiss to the corner of your mouth and pushing back in, returning back to the brutal rhythm he had before. It has your eyes rolling in your head at how fucking good he feels. “My pretty baby, taking everything I give her.”

He’s got you so fucked out that you don’t even realize your tongue is hanging out of your mouth until he pinches it between his thumb and index finger, pulling it out even more. “You love my cock, hmm? You love everything I give you.” The pad of his thumb rubs over your tongue, the sensation making your toes curl and tears slide down your cheeks. “Such a fucking needy omega, isn’t that right?” He tugs on your tongue, your head following his actions as he leads you into nodding.

Jeno laughs and lets go of your tongue, dropping his face down to kiss at your neck. He sucks mark after mark into your skin, licking over each one to soothe it after, until he finally gets to your most sensitive, vulnerable spot. Even just the feeling of him close to your mating mark has your entire body aching for it, your neck craning to the side and pushing into his touch. The leverage you get from your legs wrapped around his waist has him pushing even deeper into you and you can feel his knot at your entrance, not quite fully swollen but definitely getting there. It has you absolutely keening, the thought of being so totally owned making you desperate.The sweet drag of his cock along your walls paired with the absolute filth he’s spewing has your body locking up with no warning, your orgasm ripping through you. You arch off the bed, the action only pushing you further onto his cock.

“God y/n, fuck!” Jeno curses, slamming his hips into you with even more force, his knot popping into your entrance and forcing the neediest sound you’ve ever made to leave your lips. You desperately wrap your limbs around him, trying to get him even closer, digging your heels into his ass to push him further inside. He grinds his hips against you one, two, three more times before he shudders, teeth clamping down right on your sweet spot as he comes. Jeno seems to come forever, filling you up with delicious warmth, making your body purr in satisfaction. He finally comes down, having the clarity of mind to tip the two of you onto your sides so that he doesn’t crush you when he collapses. He still tugs you close, arm thrown around your body possessively, his chin resting atop of your head.

“Told you it was intense.” You laugh out, trying to break the silence in the room. The heat’s subsided for now, but you’re still barely in your mind, and you have no idea how long the break will last.

He huffs out a laugh, chest shaking against you. “I understand Jaemin now.” His hand pets over your back, sliding up to the back of your neck and scratching lightly at the skin there. “You alright?” “Mhmm, yeah. Perfect.” His fingertips press lightly against the mating mark, sending sparks shooting down your spine, and it has your head spinning. You try to adjust yourself against him in an effort to keep your cool, but moving has his cock shifting inside of you and you sleepily grind against him, not thinking. Jeno hisses and tightens his grip on you to keep you still, but the way he grabs your leg has him shifting inside of you and pressing against all the right places. Heat floods through you and your grinding turns more urgent.

“Ohgod,” You moan, finding enough strength to push Jeno flat on his back. Your body has a mind of its own and you find yourself bouncing desperately on his cock. His knot has you locked into place and you’re barely able to move, but you can still swirl and grind your hips against him, feel the delicious friction of his knot against your entrance. “Alpha, it feels so good.”

“Fuck, look at you. So fucking knotdrunk, hmm? Can’t get enough.” Jeno shakes his head, laughs in a way that’s meant to mock you but it comes out strained. His hands are heavy on your ass, squeezing and slapping to feel the way it jiggles, to feel the way you clench around him with every hit. You throw your head back and let him do as he pleases, losing yourself entirely in how full you feel, in how good his knot feels in you. He buries his face into your chest, moving one hand from your ass to play with your tits, his mouth wasting no time in marking the delicate skin up.

“Shit baby, gonna make me cum again.” His lips seal over your mating mark again in a sloppy kiss and that’s exactly the final push that you need, your eyes rolling back and your tongue lolling out as your cunt spasms around him, orgasm ripping through you almost painfully. Jeno groans as well, hand flying to your back to pull you as close as possible, and his knot pulses inside of you as you swear you feel more cum shoot out.

He shudders against you, tight grip finally relaxing, though he still keeps you anchored to his chest. You follow suit, collapsing against him. A tired moan leaves you and you let yourself relax, lips absentmindedly mouthing at his skin. His hand pets your back soothingly, touch heavy and sluggish, and the last thing you feel before you fall asleep is his lips on your forehead.

#jeno smut #nct dream smut #nct smut #00 line smut #kpop smut #lee jeno smut

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katyasrussianaccent · 4 years

Text

you’re so golden (corpse x reader)

Summary: You’re a faceless youtuber that sings cover songs. What happens when a certain faceless streamer slides into your DMs after you cover one of his songs?

Authors note: Part 3 whoop! I havent written fic in 3 years so Im hoping this is okay. Its about 4000 words, super long, sorry. I also dont play Among Us, but hopefully its not too obvious. Lemme know what you think!

You're nervous, though you aren’t quite sure why. The kind of nervousness that spreads to your feet, causing you to tap your toes against the side of your sofa.

Call you in 15.

You look at the message again, staring at it till the screen goes blurry. Rubbing your eyes you exhale into the emptiness of your apartment; a feeble attempt at calming yourself down.

Logically it’s stupid to be nervous over a phone call. Logically you know that in the grand scheme of the universe, there are bigger things at hand. But you’re not a logical person, never have been. You’re all heart and emotion, both a blessing and a curse. There’s something intimate about a phone call, to have nothing but someone’s voice on the other end of the phone, talking to you and only you. It was a little scary; to think your purely online friendship with Corpse was going to be taken to a different level. You’re excited to think what that could mean.

“Fucking get it together,” you mutter to no-one as you exhale again, because there’s nothing else to do other than to wait and try to breath. There’s this frantic energy about you; like when you eat fizzy sweets, the flavour buzzing on your tongue. Your ancestors used to hunt wolves and here you were nervous over a single phone call.

The silence in your apartment’s too much now; too noisy. You grab your TV remote, clicking onto Spotify to find something. You’re scrolling so much, none of the artists feeling quite right for the moment before settling on Sufjan Stevens.

The dulcet tones fill the space, and for a brief second, you feel fine. You’re feeling relaxed and then your phone lights up.

Incoming Facetime Audio

“Fuckfuckfuckfuck” you say. Your face feels warm, your heart quickens in your chest. You could just ignore it, say you’re not feeling too good and that would be that, you wouldn’t have to do this. But it’s Corpse, you like Corpse and you’re kind of friends.

You swipe to accept the call, and press the button for speaker.

“Hey,” you say, cringing at the meek tone your voice has taken on.

“Hey,” Corpse’s deep voice rumbles through your tiny speaker, distorting slightly and you press the volume button to turn it down a little.

There’s a beat of silence, a beat too long, and you already hate how awkward this is. You’re not great at social stuff, the concept of being a social butterfly is almost foreign to you. And it’s not because you dislike people, it’s just you hate this; the small talk, the awkwardness before you get comfortable and can hold an actual conversation.

You suddenly remember a tip from your customer service days. “How are you?” you ask, plastering on a grin so wide that it must look borderline demented. Thank god you’re single.

“I’m okay thanks, how are you?” he asks.

You lounge back against the soft cushions of the sofa, lifting the phone up to your mouth as you do so. “I’m good, excited to be taught by the Among Us master.”

He snorts in disdain. “Hardly a master.”

You chew your lip before you speak again, “I dunno, people on the internet think you’re pretty good.”

He snorts again, and you smile at the sound. It’s not something you’ve heard from him before, through your hours of watching his streams, you’ve become accustomed to his voice and the noises he makes. But this one seems to be new. And maybe it’s the weird, selfish part of you that likes to think he’s only ever made that sound for you. You shake the thought out of your head, because really? Getting happy over a snort is really such a ridiculous thing to do.

“People on the internet say a lot of things.”

“True, but sometimes they speak the truth,” you reply, moving to get more comfortable; tucking your feet under your thighs. You wonder what he’s doing right now as he talks to you, is he sitting down? Or is he lying on his bed; his head propped up with pillows? There’s a brief flash of yearning, of wanting to be there in the same room as him, but it disappears as quickly as it appeared so you ignore it.

“Hm. We’ll agree to disagree.”

“Okay, you’re the boss Mr Husband.”

He chuckles softly, and again, you smile. You can feel yourself getting annoyed with yourself; you’re acting like a child with a crush; smiling at the phone. All you needed now was a notebook that had Mrs YN Husband written all over it.

“You know if you keep calling me that, we’re gonna have to get married,” he says, his voice a little lower than it was before. You blink and cock your head to the side, looking at an imaginary camera like you’re in The Office. Did you say that out loud? Is he...flirting with you? Sure, you’re flirty over Twitter, but it’s Twitter, Twitter isn’t real. There’s a fluttery feeling in your stomach at the mere prospect that he might actually be flirting with you.

“I’d be the best wife you could ever get,” you shoot back. There’s a brief second of silence before he answers, and you can hear shuffling on the other end. You want to ask what he’s doing, but you know it would break the conversation, and you’re curious to see where this goes.

“Oh really? And why’s that?” he asks, and you can picture the smirk in his voice. You have no idea what he looks like, no real care about it either, but you bet he’s got a beautiful smile. You bite your tongue before it tells him this, for once your brain actually works and stops you from making a fool out of yourself. It’s incredibly strange, how quickly he puts you at ease without a try, he’s just so naturally comforting. He’s not this flashy persona, he’s just a guy who likes to play video games and happens to be kinda good at them. And also has a voice that is literally like chocolate. Not just chocolate; dark chocolate. If dark chocolate could talk, it would sound like Corpse.

“Cos your girl can cook,” you say proudly, puffing out your chest a little. And that’s not a lie, you can cook. Okay, you’re not a Michelin starred chef, but you feel quite confident in the fact that Gordon Ramsey could eat your food, and probably (hopefully) wouldn’t scream that it was “fucking raw”.

“And what would you cook for me?” he asks.

You hum in thought for a second. “You’ll have to marry me first to find that out.”

He laughs, a proper laugh that settles in your stomach, spreading warmth through your chest. “I’ll think about it. I can hear music, what are you listening to?”

You straighten up a little, the question catching you off guard. You bite the inside of your cheek as you look at the song that’s playing. It’s not his type of music, you’re almost positive about that. You almost don’t want to tell him out of embarrassment. You’re not sure why you feel embarrassed; you know Corpse isn’t an asshole, he wouldn’t make fun of you. But music is so personal to you, so personal, it’s like baring a piece of your soul; which sounds so fucking cliche, but it’s true.

“Uhhh...It’s called Make out in My Car by Sufjan Stevens,” you reply.

He hums in affirmation. “It sounds nice; from what I can hear.”

“I can turn it up?” you ask, leaning forward to grab the remote off the coffee table.

“You could always sing some for me,” he offers.

You laugh a little, scrunching up your nose. “And why would I do that?”

“I thought you wanted to get married. You have to woo me,” he replies.

“Woo you?” you ask, your tone incredulous. This isn’t how you pictured the conversation going.

“Yeah. Woo me, yn.” he says, dragging out the “o” causing you to laugh again.

You sigh dramatically. “I haven’t warmed up or anything, it’s gonna sound so bad” you warn as you put the song to the beginning.

“I’m sure you sound great. Go ahead, woo me.”

You shake your head as you softly sing. “I'm not trying to go to bed with you, I just wanna make out in my car. And though I'm dying to fall in love with you, I just wanna make out in my car”. You stop and you’re suddenly very aware that you have essentially just serenaded him. Good going, brain.

It’s silent for a beat too long, and the smile that graced your lips starts to fade as the embarrassment starts to set in.

“Well now we definitely have to get married,” he affirms. And there’s that fluttery feeling again.

You swallow, moving the conversation swiftly onto Among Us. You grab your laptop that was next to you, humming in acknowledgement as he walks you through downloading it.

“So there’s a few of us joining us tonight, it should be really fun.”

“Oh. It’s not just us two?” you ask. You focus on the download, watching the number increase. You’re nervous at the prospect of playing with other people, strangers, for the first time.

“No, it’s a 4 player minimum. We’re going to stream as well.”

“Corpse…” you start. You begin to pick at the skin around your nails, a habit you do whenever you get really anxious. This was meant to just be a cute moment where you learnt how to play a game, not a big event where people would be actually watching you, judging your every move.

“We’re going to do a few games off stream with you, you don’t need to be there for the stream after if you don’t want to,” he interrupts.

“Okay,” you trail off, your teeth biting down on your bottom lip. You feel a little better, but not by much. You didn’t know who the other people were, what if they hated you? You ask this out loud.

“I’ll be there. You know Rae and Sykkuno. Felix, Sean and Toast will be there but they’re super nice, I promise.” His voice is sincere, and it soothes you. You don’t know him, not really know him, but you trust Corpse. You know he has his own struggles, and you believe his promise; he wouldn’t screw you over or put you in a situation you were uncomfortable with.

The rest of the call is him taking you through how to play and how to set up something called Proximity Chat so everyone can talk to each other in the game. He says it’s easier once you actually play, and it doesn’t sound particularly hard quite honestly, you just hope you don’t get imposter on the first try because you’re not the greatest liar.

The game screen pops up, and you type in the code that Corpse gives you. You say goodbye to Corpse, who tells you to text him if you need any help. You drop into the game lobby, and you look at the little astronaut. There’s no time to dwell as a cacophony of voices hits you.

“YN!” Rae screeches and you chuckle at her enthusiasm. You’ve known Rae for a few years now, you met at college and had become fast friends. Though you had many different interests - gaming for one, you considered her your best friend. Rae was the type of friend where you didn’t need to talk every single day, you could message her a week later and it would be like no time had passed at all. And you loved that, sometimes you just didn’t want to talk to anyone. Sometimes your mood wasn’t the best, and you needed a little time to recharge. And she understood that, something that you were eternally grateful for.

“Raebies!” you screech back, using your “pet” name for her.

“I’ve been trying to get you to play forever. But Mr Smooth Operator over there slides into your DMs and suddenly you’re a gamer now?”

“It sounds so sordid when you say it like that,” you reply.

“Hi yn! Glad to see you playing with us,” Sykkuno says. You greet him and the others, making sure to say hi to everyone in the game. You didn’t want to start off by being accidentally rude. You listen as everyone talks amongst each other, and you talk when spoken to, but you aren’t interjecting. It wasn’t anything against the other players, it was just a little overwhelming, and you were figuring out what everyone was like.

“Hello,” Corpse’s voice interrupts your train of thought and you greet him along with everyone else.

“Aw, I wanted purple,” you say, frowning at Corpse’s name above the astronaut.

“We can switch,” he replies.

“No it’s o -” you start to speak before you realise he’s already switched to white. “Thank you, you didn’t have to.” You smile as you switch to purple, and you decide to add a flower for a little pizzazz.

“It’s your first game, I’ll kill you if I get imposter so it’ll even out,” he jokes and everyone laughs. The countdown begins and you puff your cheeks out, exhaling as it gets to 1. You’re nervous again, a seemingly common theme of the night. Your shoulders relax as the word CREWMATE flashes across the screen.

You watch as everyone but Corpse disperses from the cafeteria with haste, and you look at the keyboard to press the buttons to move.

“You ever see an old person text? That’s how I’m picturing you right now,” Corpse says as you walk together to Weapons.

“Shut up Sonny,” you reply in your best old woman voice, getting a laugh. You open up the task, shooting the Asteroids with ease. “Yay, I completed a task!”

“Good job,” Corpse replies, and you beam at the praise. You move down to o2, doing your task while Corpse does his.

“Wait, you could be imposter right? How would I know?” you ask as you walk together to Navigation.

“You wouldn’t, you just have to trust me,” he says, his voice full of charm.

You scowl. “Well that just makes me not want to trust you.”

Before he replies, there’s a blaring alarm. DEAD BODY REPORTED. You blink at the suddenness; you were really enjoying the relaxing pace of the game. You look at the screen; Felix has been killed.

“Who found the body?” Corpse asks.

“I did,” Rae answers. “I was in admin, and was going to lower engine and it was there in storage.”

“If you were in admin, why didn’t you go up through Cafeteria?” Toast asks.

“Because it’s quicker to go through storage,” Rae replies. They argue between themselves, and you listen intently and silently. It’s a lot of information, you can’t tell whose lying, but you guess that’s what makes a good player.

“Where were you yn?” Sean quizzes, and it takes you a second to realise you’re being spoken to.

“Oh. I was in um o2?”

“You don’t sound too sure there, pretty sus,” he says. Your face heats up a little, you’re not the imposter, but it feels like you are.

“She was in o2 and then we went to Navigation,” Corpse answers, and you breathe out as he takes on the interrogation.

“Oh you were together?” Rae asks, and you know that tone she’s got. It’s the tone that says she’ll be messaging you right away.

“Well yeah, it’s her first game, I’m not gonna leave her alone,” he says and you smile at that.

“Yeah we’ve been together the whole time,” you add and it’s left at that. No-one votes anyone out, since no-ones really too suspicious. You carry on the game, and you find yourself really enjoying it, though the questioning part is kind of stressful. You can see why Corpse likes it so much, it’s really fun. You’re in electrical, humming as you do your task when Rae comes next to you.

“Hey,” you greet her.

“I’m sorry, nothing personal,” she replies. Before you have a chance to say a word, she kills you and you look on in shock as your ghost floats above your body. You listen into the meeting as Rae continues to lie and plead her case. She’s good, but Corpse knows better.

“Wait, you said you found her in electrical and you were where?”

“I was in Upper Engine, and then I went to electrical to do my task,” Rae answers, her voice even and calm.

“I was in Lower Engine, and I didn’t see you,” Corpse says, and you grin at the fact Rae’s been found out. That’s what she gets for killing you.

“You were doing your task, I passed right by you,” Rae starts. She pleads her case, but it’s too late and she’s voted out.

“That was so much fun!” you declare. “I can see why you guys play it all the time.”

“Yes! We have converted another!” Felix shouts in victory.

“And all it took was Corpse,” Rae mutters sarcastically.

“Don’t get bitter Rachel, just get better,” you reply, causing the group to laugh.

You get the hang of it after a few games, and find yourself agreeing to stay while the others stream, though you decide against it yourself. You’ve only streamed once by yourself, and it was a very casual affair and you don’t want to feel too much pressure while you enjoy yourself. You know that Corpse gets nervous when he streams and he’s been doing it for so much longer, so you can only imagine how nervous you would be.

You tap your fingernails against the keyboard as the lobby counts down, any previous nerves have been replaced with excitement.

IMPOSTER flashes across. You’re the only one, your astronaut looks lonely on the screen by itself, and the red letters almost taunt you.

“Shit,” you mutter as your brain goes into overdrive. What was it Corpse had said before? Not to be too obvious. You don’t kill immediately, instead going at your previous pace to not look too suspicious. You were still fairly new to the game, and you were going to use that to your advantage.

You fake your task in Cafeteria before venting over to Navigation where Toast was.

“Hi Toast!” you greet, coming to stand next to him as you pretend you’re doing the task.

“Oh hey yn,” he says. It doesn’t seem like he suspects you, and you’re not quite sure when to click the Kill button. You do it anyway before running out and going down and into shields. There’s adrenaline running through you as the dead body’s reported and you crack your knuckles before putting on your game face. You were going to play dumb, play the confused newbie - because to them, that’s what you were.

“YN, where were you?” Corpse asks. Fuck. Maybe you weren’t going to get away with this.

You twiddle your hair as you draw out your words, playing the role perfectly. “Uhm I was in...shields? I think that’s what it’s called. I was in the cafeteria before that though.”

“Wait, you couldn’t have, I was in weapons. I would have seen you,” Sykkuno says.

You open your mouth to talk. “She could have vented,” Felix comments, and the rest of the group starts to agree.

“Guys, I don’t even know what venting is. I literally just started playing,” you point out, giggling.

“That’s true,” Rae agrees and you knew there was a reason you loved her.

“Bullshit! She’s playing you with her “oh I don’t know how to play” schtick,” Felix proclaims.

“Aw, that’s kind of rude, Felix. I’m just enjoying the game, doing the tasks,” you say, pouting a little. He’s the next on your list.

Everyone skips the vote and you lean over your laptop, ready for the next round. You were going to win this. You kill Rae and Toast next, and yet again, manage to worm your way out of any suspicion. You can sense that Corpse and Felix are starting to get suspicious of you, and you know you need to bring out the big guns to throw them off.

You catch Sykkuno in Med Bay after checking the cams in Security.

“Hi yn!” he greets, and you almost feel guilty as you kill him. He’s so sweet and innocent, but unfortunately, casualties are a given. You pass Felix as he comes out of reactor and it’s only a matter of time before you’ll have to talk your way out of this one again.

“I passed yn as I came out of reactor,” Felix shouts with a hint of glee.

You roll your eyes; this is going to be tough. “Yeah I came from Upper Engine, I was finishing part 2 of a task.”

“I was in Electrical, where was the body?” Corpse asks.

“Med Bay. And the only one that could’ve been there was yn,” Felix starts.

“Well no, you could have passed me and killed Sykkuno then self reported,” you reply. “I think you can do that right?”

Corpse hums in agreement. “Oh come on! She’s being really sus,” Felix argues.

“You are being a little sus yn,” Corpse comments.

“Corpse. You don’t really think it’s me do you?” You decide to lower your voice a little, your tone sweet but sultry. “You only taught me like an hour ago, there’s no way I’d be able to fool everybody so quickly.” You get close to the mic so it’s like you’re speaking only to Corpse. “Remember what I said? You’re a master at this.” You’re laying it on thick, and for a brief second you think you’ve been too over the top.

“This is difficult,” Corpse says, and you see the seconds count down, your heartbeat starts to quicken.

“Corpse, stop being a fucking simp and vote her out!” Felix demands.

“Corpsie baby,” you drawl out and you smile in success as you hear him sigh, almost shakily. You’ve got this in the bag. The victory screen flashes up and you cheer.

“Fuck yeah!” you shout, patting yourself on the back. You laugh as you exhale the breath you didn’t know you were holding.

“Good game yn!” Sykkuno comments, the others agreeing.

“Not fair, you used your womanly wiles against Corpse,” Felix says.

“Gotta use them for something. Not my fault Corpse knows where his allegiance lies,” you reply laughing a little.

You stretch, your back crying out in pain from being hunched over so long. You let out a long, loud moan of relief as you straighten your spine, your shoulders relaxing as you move from side to side.

“Your mic’s not muted” Corpse points out, clearing his throat. You feel your stomach drop and your face instantly becomes hot. Shit.

“Oh. Uh. I totally forgot about that,” you say, forcing out a chuckle. You screw your eyes shut, any happiness has been now replaced by red hot shame. “So this was fun, uh, really fun, but um, I’m gonna, I’m gonna go. So...yeah. Bye guys, have fun!”

You click to exit without giving anyone a chance to say a word, and drop your head into your hands.

“Can’t wait to see what they say on Twitter about this,” you mutter into your hands.

TAGLIST (if youre bold, it wont let me tag): @teenageguitarist @fanworrior @cherry-piee @mirahg @clara-bee @cookinglovingalien @vir-tual @clubfairy @youretheonlyonewhomakesme @more-like-reyna @boiled-onionrings @moneybagmgk @brendalopez99 @delicateavenuenacho @dreamsofficialwife @hydrate-tion @little-red02

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