#i’m working ok it i’m trying i’m thinking. and yet i fear i’m overthinking

[livvyofthelake]

i’m actually about to start like crying what do you meannnn i have to be up at 9:15 tomorrow but i didn’t finish all the stuff i was supposed to do tonight. laundry. packing. not even tv watching. and it’s 2:30 and i am sooooo tired and basically need to go to sleep if there’s any hope for tomorrow to not be actually miserable. but then i have to do all that stuff tomorrow IN ADDITION to all the stuff i already have to do tomorrow. oh my god who’s idea was it to go on a family vacation that requires plane travel and goes on this long in such a weird weather place. oh yeah it was my sister. girl kys. AND SHES NOT EVEN HERE RN TO HELP MEEE she’s with her fucking BOYFRIEND dude KILL YOURSELF OMG. i don’t care that you want to see your gf for a day before she leaves for almost 2 weeks. you saw her YESTERDAY too. EYE need her here to micromanage and nag me into getting things done and piss me the fuck off. and yeah this is on me for spending so much time on tiktok today. and the hours of the day which are dedicated solely to jacking off. sorry you don’t need to know that but yes you did. i’m not gonna be able to masturbate for two weeks i’m gonna be sharing rooms with my sister all the time i’m gonna fucking kms. that was dramatic. but real. if we are ever going to have a femininominon we NEED to normalize dykes talking about jacking off idc. anyway. i hope jakey dies.

[scoobysnakz]

ok but imagine loser!Miguel finding out that the reader has been seeing someone (casually, nothing physical… yet) and he has to try to put a stop to it while also having to listen to her swoon over said man RAAAAHHHH

AHHH OMG YESSS!!! LOVE THIS IDEA SMMM OMG

loser miguel who can’t help but get frustrated about the way you ramble on about him with that dopey smile on your face. normally, he’d be over the moon to see you so happy but the fact that it’s because of someone else…

it’s bad enough he can’t bend you over the break room table and pound your sweet cunt with his nose buried in your hair, now he has to contain his jealousy as well.

loser miguel who realises he can’t take this anymore and decides to end whatever silly ‘situationship’ you have going on.

loser miguel who starts pointing out all of the flaws he has, whether or not they’re real aren’t important.

“when was the last time he texted you?” he pipes in one day, forcing himself into the conversation, not that you care, you’re just happy good friend miguel is finally interested in your love life.

“i’m not sure.” you shrug, finger idly tapping the side of your mug half full with the coffee miguel made you. “sometime yesterday, i think.”

he just raises his brow with a sharp breath before walking off, praying that you start to overthink this minor flaw. but he knows you, and he knows you’ll get dragged down an endless rabbit hole of doubt.

loser miguel who inserts himself into your life, hoping that you’ll realize how much more useful he is than him. he starts making you coffee in the morning and bringing in croissants from the café over the road.

he loves the little thank you’s that you coo with a kiss to his cheek when he slides on your coat on your way out and the pretty smile that graces your face when he ‘coincidentally’ bumps into you by your house.

loser miguel who wants to know what’s going on when the two of you have to stay behind to work on something. he slides over to your side of your desk, his hand moving over the top of yours to stop your endless scribbling.

you look up at him through heavy eyes, the lack of sleep obviously getting to you. he can tell you haven’t had a good nights rest in a while and he’ll be damned if it’s not because your staying up all night texting your special someone.

“hmm?”

that soft, quiet hum resonates throughout miguel, travelling up his arms and legs and settling in the pit of his stomach. the feebleness of it makes him want to melt right then and there, pull you into a tight embrace until you fall asleep in his arms because the mere sight of you too tired to even ask a proper question is more than enough to make his heart ache.

“your eyes are all scrunched up, mami,” he sighs, a calloused hand coming up to push some of your hair out of your face. “when was the last time you got a good eight hours?”

you shrug, not even bothering to lie to him like the last few times he’s asked. “dunno.”

the next thing you know, miguel has his big strong arms wrapped you as you bawl your eyes out about how sucky this guy is. he’s not as understanding and kind and other guys you’ve been with, he doesn’t soften from your love and he doesn’t stare at you with those lovestruck eyes.

and while you feel so vain and self absorbed for expecting this from some random guy, miguel is practically dancing with glee. he knows why you expect all this, why you crave the gentleness and love of this man. he’s put these standards in your head, he’s the one who has been treating you this way because he’s who’s best for you.

you just need to realize it.

loser miguel who has to leave you alone to finish of the assignment for the evening, as much as he hates leaving you on your own, but the fear of you feeling his hardened cock digging into your thigh is much stronger.

he spends the rest of the evening relentlessly fucking his fist, imagining that it’s your tight pussy that squeezing his cock and not his thick fingers.

loser miguel who comes into work sorely disappointed to see you with eye bags big enough to hold two baby elephants and a makeup less face, not like he’s bothered but he knows how you like to doll yourself up for work.

he thought he told you to get a good nights rest !! why on earth are you so tired ??

“did you get any sleep at all?” he scolds, thick arms crossed his chest.

you look up at him, blinking slowly as you try and process his words. “‘course, migs,” you mumble while waving a dismissive hand at him.

“por dios,” he chides.

sliding an arm around your waist, miguel slots himself into the chair next to yours. you let yourself relax against him, your head nuzzling into the warmth of his chest and eyes flickering shut.

“couldn’t sleep.”

how badly he wants to pull you into his lap and let you curl up like a little kitten as you fall asleep clinging onto him like your life depends on it.

he lifts a large hand to smooth the crinkles in your shirt, smiling smugly as you let out a content sigh. “was thinking ‘bout what you’d been saying, how he isn’t good enough because he isn’t nice and stuff,” you admit scornfully, “and started thinking ‘bout things i shouldn’t.”

miguel nods, trying to pay attention to what you’re saying while also attempting to suppress his erection. “mami, you shouldn’t have been thinking about silly things so late, you need your sleep.”

loser miguel who loves the way you cling to him, sleepy mumbling an abundance of apologies as you nuzzle your head into his chest and stare up at him with those fatigued doe eyes.

he’s so grateful that it’s too early for anyone else to be in the lab otherwise he’s be too nervous to be holding you so close. he’s still trying to handle the glares he gets when he holds the door open for you.

loser miguel who whispers sweet words of reassurance as you start to bawl your eyes out all over again. you’re a blabbering mess with reddened eyes and puffy lips that he just can’t resist.

he leans down, face inches away from yours, and breathes in the comfortingly sweet scent of your perfume that he’s grown so accustomed to.

“why won’t he do all the things you say he should? how am i so clueless that i didn’t even realise he should?” you sob helplessly, “you’re always so sweet to me, why can’t he?”

“awww, poor chica,” he coos huskily. the warmth of his voice soothes you slightly, it’s like warm honey trickling past his perfect lips and dripping into your ears until all you can hear is the low rumble of his accent.

loser miguel whose heart nearly stops when you kiss him. never in a million years did he expect you to make the first move. every time he’s fantasised about it, he’d always been the one to pull you in, press you against the wall, whatever it is he’s the bold one.

but now your soft lips are pressed against his and all he can think about is how sickly sweet they taste.

his hand cups the back of your head, feeling the shape of your scalp and the softness of your hair. greedily, he deepens the kiss, cock straining against the seam of his pants. his tongue pushes itself into your mouth, hastily taking in the flavour of you as his desire for you deepens.

loser miguel who is panting and bewildered when you pull away, fingers curling up into the muscle of his chest.

“i was trying to kiss your cheek.”

loser miguel master list

[kairithemang0]

it always hurts to think about the fact that Tatiana was the one who said “Owen” when he came out from behind the curtain and not Curt. Curt just stands there, shocked. He’s terrified, he freezes. The first thing he says is “how are you here”, and then “why are you here”. I swear, this poor guy. And the fact that Tatiana, who has only really heard stories of Owen, and maybe saw a few pictures if Curt kept any and decided to show her (I’d like to think he did keep a picture of Owen on him, dunno it’s cute) just knew that it was Owen. It’s just the way that Curt freezes, the way he walks back just a bit when Owen starts talking, just trying to figure out how Owen, Owen who’s been dead for 4 years, could possibly be here, and not only that, could be the deadliest man alive, the man who tortured him days prior. I’m rewatching the scene now, it’s been a minute, but the way Curt stutters at “how are you here” is so painful. He left Owen, he wanted to put Owen behind him and he wanted to move on, meanwhile he’s being confronted by Owen mere days after he finally got back on his feet. I feel like “you’re dead” is more of him trying to get himself to believe Owen is still dead now, I think in some way he’s experienced this before, some type of hallucination trying to make him believe Owen is still there. And yet here stands the real Owen, who is not only alive, but wants him dead and wants to go against everything they ever believed in. Ugh the way Owen insults him is everything to me, because in some way it is true, Curt is arrogant and impulsive, he probably did feel like the dumb one on the team at multiple points. Ughhhhh what if these were insecurities he actually told Owen? What if he was able to open up to him about the fear he’s arrogant and impulsive and was made to feel stupid by the people around him and Owen reassured him at the time he wasn’t and now he’s the one telling him? Sorry I’m overthinking this scene I just love it. And then the one time Curt gets something right HE STILL INSULTS HIM. Off topic but Curt’s “rocks?” Is so cute to me idk why it just is. Rocks? Gah I love them. Owen’s little annoyed slow turn after “huh” is everything to me IM SORRY IM LOSING MY MIND.

Ok I meant to do this months ago but here’s my overthinking of the line of “I’d be god, what kind of a world would that be?” You can’t really see exactly who he’s looking at, but I swear it’s Curt. He’s looking directly at Curt and saying that a world where he’s god would be better than this one. At least that’s how I’m reading it. honestly I doubt Curt or Owen believed in god at that point, through all they’ve been through, for all the things they’ve done, though the fact that at this time homosexuality was seen as “sexual perversion” and against the will of god. I dunno, I’m really overthinking this. I don’t know where I’m going with this tbh, frankly that’s all of my posts

the way Curt hesitates at “good thing we’re here to stop you” is interesting to me. Does he want to stop Owen? I mean yes of course he wants to stop this plan of his, but does he want to actually hurt Owen at this time? I think he’s still processing the fact Owen has been the DMA, that Owen tortured him. I think at his time he isn’t set on killing him, that maybe things could work if he somehow gets Owen back on their side and thinking clearly. I think once he kills the informant, that's when he really questions it. The informant isn't just some random person who they need to kill to get out of some warehouse, he's someone Curt knows and may not be close with but does care about. Owen didn't need to kill him, he just sort of wanted to.

I think the fact Curt at first wanted to go and destroy the compound is interesting, he knew what was going to happen by then. He knew one of them wasn't going to make it out alive and that this wasn't going to end well. I'd love to see a Tatiana staircase scene with Owen, I don't think it would be as emotional, but I think it would reveal a lot more about Curt and Owen's relationship. Tatiana, even if Curt hasn't explicitly told her he and Owen were once together (i think he did personally), it would be interesting to hear Owen's point of view on that. Actually I may write that... hmm.

Well here are some really incoherent thoughts for yall

[ruminate88]

Getting Real With Me:

Getting real honest with myself: When I met my husband, I was sooo tired. All men were pigs as far as I was concerned. All men leading up to him made me feel like they only want sex. Men didn’t value me as a human. Most men got my nudes and then dated other women. I didn’t get to have feelings and crying only made men run from me. They made me feel so weak for crying. I was told on Twitter that “I was too fragile”.

So when my husband was so nice, I wanted his “friendship” but didn’t know if I liked him. He asked me out but I told him no. 🥺 but we talked 3 months and be continued to be nice. Then I asked him out this time and he said yes. THEN my ex Andrew tried to come back and it hurt so much. Ugh. Andrew disturbed my peace and got me all upset again. 😭😭 why did he want to hurt me so much???? All I wanted was to love Andrew. I KNOW I married my husband to get away from Andrew and to get “safe”.

I move forward with my new man and he continues to be so ever nice but things heat up before we get married becuase we’re trying to plan the future and I was scared to get hurt. We get married and stuff happens right before the wedding with my family. My wedding day was both beautiful AND sad. My honeymoon was GREAT but also very emotional. I cried a lot. My poor new husband had to deal with me being emotional and weird. I felt so uncomfortable and frustrated but couldn’t understand why.

the first year of marriage is okay, I’m sick at Christmas in the hospital for 4 days but then the next year shifts drastically. My new man wants to escape work life through video games and doesn’t always wanna go places with me, making me feel alone. I begin to complain how I fear he prioritizes video games over me. (I was being triggered from abandonment and neglect wounds but didn’t understand it yet)

For the first part of my marriage, I have NO IDEA why I feel so disconnected or upset at my man. I couldn’t stop obsessively having Intrusive thoughts of my ex Andrew. It was very bad. I was comparing everything my new man did and said to Andrew. I was low-key angry at Andrew but didn’t know it and so I look at my new man with almost frustration and anger. I slowly started building walls.

in 2021, my new man surprised me with a very expensive gift which made me feel horrible and then took me on my dream vacation at Christmas and I forced myself sooooooo hard to enjoy it. It was my dream!!!! He made that dream come true but also complains and stresses about money so giving me my dream but I feel so bad for it too.

I was soooo uncomfortable but tried so hard to enjoy myself and my man. It’s overly uncomfortable to open up and talk to my man about my feelings. I couldn’t express to him that I’m stilll obsessively thinking of Andrew and I’m angry cuz I think it will hurt him and upset him.

I want nothing from my husband. I’ve lived just to exist. I married him just to survive. I he’s a nice guy and a very hard worker. I care about him and want to be there for him. I would be upset if something bad happened to him and can’t go to bed anywhere but with him…. Sounds romantic but I AM SO TIRED 🥺🥺🥺🥺 I overthink and over analyze every move, word or choice he makes. I don’t force anything really now. I’ve reached a point where I’ll do my wifely duties and be fair to my man but whatever it’s just going through thr motions. He goes to work, I clean and cook then he comes home, I feed him and repeatedly ask him “ARE YOU OKAY???” It annoys the shizz out of me. WHEN DO I STOP ASKING IF HE IS OK EVERY SECOND??? 😝 I hate that about me. I worry to upset him all the time when I KNOW it’s all in my head.

some people have said “you need to have an honest conversation with your husband” like…. Scary. No thanks. I don’t wanna tell him I think about my exes every day and feel so stupid and small. Just the thoughts of it make my knees buckle. I feel fake when I’m trying so hard to be a good wife. I do everything for him, get up at 3am with him and blow him a kiss before he drives out of the garage for work. I pack his lunches and do his laundry. I do it all and I want nothing back 🥺💔❤️‍🩹 just don’t be upset at me or hate me or hurt me. I don’t EVER wanna hurt the way Cody and Andrew hurt me. I’m sick inside over it all.

I just wanna sit alone in my thoughts. I don’t beg my husband to turn off the video games and spend more time with me cuz whatever, I’m done fighting for men. I gave Andrew all my fight and begged Andrew to spend time with me. I’m not doing it again. My husband will either be with me or he won’t. I do feel like most of the “disconnect” is me and not my man causing it but I just don’t want to push myself. This healing journey has made me wanna just be with myself and listen to music.

[bi-dykes]

Ok so. It's like I have forgotten everything about writing. How does one even begin writing? 😭😭 Do you have any writing advice for beginners?

This is a great question! I think you’re going through writers block. Sometimes, after years of writing, we one day are like “what r words.” It’s like if you’ve ridden a bike for years and one day it’s just so difficult randomly. But don’t worry! You can always get back on that bike.

Here is a website I found to combat writers block:

10 ways to overcome writers block

I also have some words of wisdom for beginner writers that I hope will help!

1. Start with a scrap journal.

This journal does not need to be like a diary or anything, but it can be fun to just write down sentences for your story as they come into your mind- in whatever order! I have written down the beginning of my spin off- I’m not even done the first book in my series! But writing down any ideas for your characters or the universe your story takes place in- whether it’s the first chapter or last-

My scrap journal is a mess. I’ve been writing in it for years, it’s purple and glittery which I looove, there’s ripped out pages stuck in the middle, there’s ideas for the sequel, there’s some dialogue written for the first book, for chapter 1, then chapter 12 randomly etc. Writing in a little scrap journal or diary of lined paper (or you could use your notes app on your phone, or a google document on your laptop, or whatever you prefer to write in! I just wouldn’t use the same folder as your actual manuscript/draft of book) can take away the pressure of it feeling like a “good copy” that has to be “perfect”, and instead just gets the writing flowing :)

2. Fill out a character chart!

These can be fun to get in the heads of your protagonists! You can find many on Pinterest, but here’s one I found from Medium!

Also: don’t worry if you don’t know your character’s favourite food or favourite number or favourite shirt yet, some of these you’ll never even need to know as the author, and some of these you’ll discover along the way. Whatever suits your story! It’s more important to know your characters’ goals, ambitions, fears, and inspiration than say, their favourite animal.

3. Give your document a funny name!

The first manuscript I ever wrote (and never finished lol, abandoned middle school project) had it’s book title and chapter title of course, but said just below the header, “warning: don’t read if you’re homophobic or hate fall out boy” or something else cringy like that, I can’t recall exactly 😅 but it helped take the pressure off of beginning a “formal looking draft”! Some header titles could include:

- Welp here we go, I have nothing to lose

- First draft, cowabunga!

- Here is some beautiful messy writing

- Hmm let’s give this a try

- Behold! Beginner’s writing!

And then just write your book title and chapter title below it, and began typing out the intro. It could be your main character describing her life, or it could pick up right during two characters’ conversation, or it could begin with the main character walking home and describing the world around her, there really are no rules!

4. Use a few tumblr writing prompts!

If you feel stuck at the beginning of your story, many tumblr users do post great dialogue prompts! Here are some I enjoy :3

@givethispromptatry- I literally recommend like all of their prompts lol, whichever ones you get inspiration from :)

150 random writing prompts by @writinginstardust :)

@writing-prompt-s is also a good account! :)

5. Don’t overthink it!

Let your beginning of your novel have mistakes. Let it be a work of progress. Let it be childish or messy or cringy or whatever. Your second draft can be the fancy one, don’t hold back on the first draft! It will be okay <3

Goodluck! I hope this helped!

[iwishiwascuddled]

“Blake?”

The small figure practically jumped out of her skin, the room not well lighting their face. BoJack had always gone to their place for the night, but recently she needed an escape from her own apartment.

Lighter in hands, joint in mouth, she was caught in the doorway to the balcony pool in her pjs. She took deep breaths, plucking the joint from her mouth. “Could you be any more frightening? Good lord BoJack, it’s 4 AM.”

“I know.” He says. “That’s why I’m wondering why you’re up.”

She sighs, seeing him eye her joint. “I know you’re doing your whole thing with sobriety, but I’m not you!” She exasperates. His face gave her a look that he couldn’t wipe off of his face. The look of a broken soul understanding another. “BoJack, I’m a 6th generation Green Triangle Californian, you expect me not to indulge?”

He was silent, his brows suddenly furrowing. “I never said shit about your pot. You do what you want.” He says. “You’re Blakely Honey. You can do whatever you want.”

Her face slowly dropped. He gestured to the couch. “Wanna talk?”

She snorts a laugh. “BoJack? Talking? This is new.”

His eyes roll hard. “Ok, yeah, make fun of your sugar daddy.”

“You’re not a sugar daddy, you’re...” Blake stutters on her words, setting the joint and lighter on the coffee table. “..you’re my fuck buddy? That’s even worse.”

As they both settle down, she criss crosses her legs, not sure how to start. Her brain was moving too quickly, like try to catch water in a ocean storm with no way to hold it.

He lets out a breath. “So, what’s going on? I mean, in your head.”

“What?” Her head turns to him confused by the statement.

He clears his throat. “Well, I know that you like to think a lot, and I’ve been there when you start to overthink and spiral into the void that is ‘yeah but’ and ‘what if’.”

She turned away, in utter shame. He was right. “Am I...doing something wrong?”

“What?” Her face was crossed with panic momentarily.

“Do..do you not like who I am?”

“BoJack..” She lets out a long sigh, he face in her hands. “What happens when you hate everything you’ve ever become?”

Guilt and fear was struck immediately, the tension in the room extremely high. He takes her hand, his thumb rubbing over her hand. He didn’t know how to answer, this was the question he had been asking everyone his entire life. After Sarah Lynn, he couldn’t afford to be this harsh with a soft soul.

Blakely and him had met through Diane, as Blakely was one of her work associates at Girl Croosh before they had all gotten fired. Blake took an immediate liking to BoJack, and there was something about Blake that BoJack couldn’t shake. Motherly, yet compassionate, things be never had in his life. She could also be as cynical and aggressive as BoJack, but he saw her as a fragile doll. He’s broken too many women now, if he broke even one more he might go off the deep end.

He kissed her cheek and said, “I’m not sure. But I think we can figure out together?”

She scoffs. “Hallmark generic much?”

“Hey, you’re asking the worst guy to give you advice. You should’ve asked Hollyhock.”

She lets out a broken chuckle, squeezing his hand. “Hollyhock’s always mad at everyone. It makes it hard for me to get her like I did you.”

“Hollyhock is just hardheaded, and plus she’s not really into mother figures all that much.” He said. “Blakely...do you..”

She looked up at him, even though they were both sat down he couldn’t help to notice her eyes looked like stars. Even through her pain, through all of the shit thrown at her by everyone in her life, she still managed to have the light of pure life in her eyes. She didn’t let the fame get to her head like it did him.

“Do you like working?” He asks. “As a celebrity?”

She shook her head. He looks at her timidly. “It’s not too late to cancel the job with Princess Carolyn and Judah. You don’t have to be in Birthday Dad.”

Tears start flowing from her eyes. “I just wanna be an author..” She admits. “I wanted to write a medical novel and help change healthcare and immortalise this country to finally be good for once in over 200 years. Why is LA so fucking shitty?”

He sighs, scratching his neck. He squeezes her hand as she leans on his shoulder, and they sit in solemn understanding of the cruelty of the world. No one should expect this much of a college student, nor should they of an asshole actor from the 90’s. People are people.

“I’m gonna call Princess Carolyn in the morning and tell her to cancel the contract. I’m not letting you go any further on this.” He said. “If you need to move back to Grass Valley, I can help you. I can get you on the next bus to Colfax and get you an apartment downtown. You can stay with your family but also still stay in California.”

She wipes her eyes, letting go of his hand so she can blow her nose. “BoJack-”

“I’m not letting you ruin your dreams. You want to be an author, I can do that. Just please, get out of LA.”

“I don’t want to leave you-”

“I’ll be fine.” He stood his ground, firmly at best. “Because for some reason, every time I hit a rock bottom, It gets better until I hit another rock bottom. But I’m not about to allow yourself to rip the silver spoon out of your mouth in exchange for a piece of shit acting career that will make you hate yourself.”

She stayed quiet, listening to this ramble. “Blake, if you stay here any longer, not only will LA haunt your every thought forever, but you will too. Every single moment of your day will be filled with regret if you stay here with me. I’m tar pit and you’re just...”

He stopped to see your face. You were scared, you looked as if you had seen a ghost.

“...you’re just too valuable for me to let you rot in this house with me. I’m not letting you go down with this fucking ship.”

She sighed. “You’re right.”

His face contorted. “What?”

“I said, you’re right.” She slightly snapped. “I tried to make it work in LA, and it’s ruining me. You’re right, BoJack.”

“But you know..” As she continued, he hung on her every word. He took it to heart, harshly at that. Every sentence was agony but he loved it.

~~~

“Hawaii?” He asks. She nods in response.

“I’ve been thinking about it for a while, my flight is in 3 weeks. My step brother invited me to live at his place while he’s on his oil rig in Montana. That’s enough time to wrap up my shit here in LA and move.” She chuckles. “You act as if you’re the captain of this ship, but have you ever noticed you never get to make decisions for yourself?”

“Excuse me?” He smiles back at her. “I can assure you that I am 100% in control of my own life.”

“It’s always your manager or your producer or your agent, even your publicist or your fucking book writer.” Her eyes drool a little. “I never get to hear anything from your mouth, BoJack. It’s always Philbert’s, or Secretariat’s, or..I don’t even know at this point. ”

“What are you implying?” He urges.

“I’m saying, BoJack, you don’t have a free will anymore!” She says. “You just keep getting treated like a replaceable cog in a machine of media, and it’s pointless! I just want you to speak to me, person to person.”

He gives no response. She had a point. Everytime BoJack made any sort of progression, he immediately got sabotaged right back down.

“You should’ve gone back to Wesleyan.” She says. “Gone back to teaching. It’s the best thing you could’ve done right now. But you fucked that up too. Do you know how difficult it is to get to my job - which is in the middle of town, by the way - when paparazzi keep swarming me for Sarah Lynn information?”

He stays silent, anger but love still across his face. She lights the joint as it holds place in her mouth, puffing it until it lights. “I’m sorry.” He says to no one in particular. She scoffs.

“Tell it to the judge.” She says, letting out her breath.

“I didn’t mean for it to be like this.”

“It’s not your intentions.” She says. “It doesn’t matter what your intentions were. Because that part of the situation is over. Now it’s about your actions. It’s about what you’ve done. Its about whats happened and how it’s going to be handled.”

“All I can say is...I’m sorry.” He says. “I have no excuses.”

“I wish I could help you. I like defending you sometimes, because I love you, BoJack. Other times, it’s so overwhelming.” She says. “It’s like trying to swim in a lake with cement bricks tied to your shoes. And every time you’re able to get to the surface, something hits you and you’re pushed back into the lake, barely able to get a breathe in before being plunged back into the cold water.”

He sighs. “Trust me, my friends and I have been drowning for a very long time.” He says. “I love you too.”

She giggles. “Remember when we first met?”

He smiles. “How could I forget? You were glowing that night.” He chuckles in return. “You had the weirdest earrings on.”

“I was going through a custom earring phase, I thought worm on a string would look good.” She laughs some more.

“You did look good.” He said. “You can make anything work.”

“You wanted to say something to me that night.” She said. “But PC pulled you away to talk before we could speak any longer.”

He gulps.

“What were you going to tell me?”

He knew she’d ask. Her memory isn’t good for recent events, but she can keep a perfect record of anything over 6 months ago. Once she’s taken 6 months to process it, then she remembers. It had almost been two or three years now.

“I wanted to say..” he started, but paused quickly. “I wanted to tell you how gorgeous you looked.”

She forces a laugh. “Doubtful.”

“I’m serious. You had the most amazingly sewn blue blouse, it had gold sequins that looks like constellations,”

“I remember, I hand sewn every bead.”

“and you’re make-up made you look like and angel with the white and gold liner and pastel blue lips,”

“You remember the details of my makeup? Weirdo.”

“and you had overall shorts on, and a backpack with roses on it.”

“Get to the point, Romeo.”

“The point is, you put so much work into your outfit and no one noticed. They just...expected it of you.” He said. Her face softly smiled, her eyes meeting his. “But I thought, ‘why did she put so much work into a bunch of assholes’. You should’ve been the talk of the town that night, not some stupid movie.”

“...BoJack, that was a show with you in it.”

“Yeah- fucking- whatever.”

She smiles, leaning back onto the couch. BoJack does the same. She turns her head to his.

“Do you think.. if we had met at an earlier time, this would’ve worked?” Her query seemed far fetched to him. “Like what if we met when I was moving back from Texas? Or before I moved there in the first place?”

“I think that no matter what time you met me, we would always be this.”

“And what is ‘this’?”

The wind blew through the open door, the black night sky peering through his windows like a dripping ooze.

“‘This’ is..” He stumbled. “‘This’ is one of the best things that ever happened to me. With me. For me. And I can never thank you enough, Blakely. I’m so sorry.”

She giggled at his apology. “BoJack, even though you are one of the weirdest things that has ever happened to me, I loved my time with you. I loved every party, every interview, every stroll in the park and every night spent just like this.” She snorted a quick retort to balance the words, “and every night we’ve spent with me trying to get you to hold back your load so I could actually get off.”

“You trained me good. But now I cum on a specific command and I don’t think that’ll be helpful anytime soon.” He smiled at her outrageous laughter that filled his home. Her presence was overwhelming, but also enough.

“Those are the parts I’ll miss. But..”

“But?”

“I won’t miss the accusations.” His heart heavied. “I won’t miss the zero privacy of the architectural structure of your house. Or the fear of you relapsing, or the fear of you going back to your self destructive habits, like going back to multiple month benders where I don’t know if you’re alive. Considering eighteen people have killed themselves on me, I thought I was being generous to you. I won’t miss the idiocy of your schemes against others when you think you’re helping.

I DEFINITELY won’t miss the chicks from the bar leaving at an ungodly time and me dragging you to the clinic to make sure that the next time we touch I won’t get chlamydia.

Another thing I won’t miss? Princess Carolyn.”

He chuckled. “Woah, what? PC? Why?”

“She’s a constant reminder.”

“Of what?”

“That someone worked on you for 25 years- longer than I’ve been alive- and they still weren’t able to fix you.”

The feeling in the room left as he had to process that thought. “You really think that?”

“She’s been with you since your first agent. She worked harder than your actual agent to get you whatever you wanted. She busted you out of bed, she cured your hangovers, she’s taken you to hospitals, funeral homes, agencies, interviews, but you never noticed.

I don’t want to be the girl that does everything for you just for you to not notice and not fix yourself. And I think that’s fair enough.”

He laid there in awe as she stood from the couch, throwing the roach from the joint off the balcony. He hadn’t even noticed she was smoking the whole time.

“I’m heading to bead, Bo.” She turns in the doorway to his room. “I love you.”

As she’s about to enter the darkness, he sits up. “Blakely?”

She turns back around. “Yeah?”

“I want to get you something.” He started, making her giggle. “As a farewell gift. Anything you want.”

She stared at the city outside, leaning against the bedroom doorway as she pondered this. Her eyes meet his again and he’s entranced.

“I always liked hydrangeas.”

[seriouslysam8]

Hi,

Ok so first of all, I love your works! I really enjoy reading them and I am excited for the next chapter of Brumous (Harry is adorable in this story). I really liked Backstabber too, especially the interactions between Harry and Sirius, but mostly because you portrayed the marauders in a very realistic way. Sorry that I did not comment on most of your stories, I always overthink what I want to say than get anxious and I just avoid commenting as a result.

Ok so here’s my question; how are you able to put the idea/story that is in your head on paper? I have so many ideas of fics in my head and I just can’t put it into words (or when I do I just cringe at myself). So yeah, how do you do it?

Bye😁

(I am so awkward🙈)

First of all, don’t ever feel awkward with me. I’m very socially awkward and I have sky high social anxiety. Sometimes I get sent asks that literally paralyze me with fear because I don’t know how to answer them. Or, for example, I’m super anxious about chapter four on Sunday because there’s one scene where I think people might think it is awful and OOC and I’ve written it about five times but Bell assures me it’s fine and a good scene. Please, just go read my amazing dorky responses to some reviews on AO3 where I legit just scream excitement at some reviewers. Though, normally, my cap locks are reserved for reviewers who I recognize and review repeatedly because I think they understand I’m a legit crazy person by this point.

Second of all, I’m so glad to hear you love my stories! Backstabber got some love! Yay!! That makes me really happy.

To answer your question, I think a lot about a story. Like a lot a lot. I reply scenes in my head. I plot out the entire story in my head. I don’t think that’s a normal process at all. I know a lot of people use flow charts or spread sheets to help them plan. I’ve just always been more… mental about it. Anytime I try to plot with charts, I get bored.

I also took a lot of creative writing courses in high school and college. They’re useful for the exercises they provide and a more technical aspect of creative writing. It helped me realize what parts of a story are needed. But more importantly, it just gave me practice messing around with different prompts and settings and situations.

My best advice. Just write. Anything. Everything. Just picture the scene in your head and write the words down on paper. Even if at first it’s not creative, just write it. The more you write, the easier it becomes. Then, go back and evoke the senses. If you’re in a third person limited POV, which is what I prefer to write in, then describe what the character sees, feels, hears, touches. What’s important in that scene that the narrator senses that the reader needs to sense. Realize, your narrator in this POV doesn’t know everything. They may lead the reader wrong or contradict things the reader knows because they haven’t learned it yet themselves. Or maybe they are talking to another character and they say the wrong information. It’s important to just get inside a characters head. Know what they know and feel what they feel.

If you’re new to writing, I’d pick one main character. Don’t do what I do and switch POVs. You need to have distinctive voices for all of them. A trick I use is that I pull up a character chart of Harry when I’m writing Harry. Then I pull up my word document. I can see Harry’s picture out of the corner of my eye as I write which helps me visualize writing as Harry. When I switch to Ginny, I pull up Ginny’s character chart and I see her picture out of the corner of my eye. It helps me focus on who I am writing and hone in on their personality.

But, honestly, it’s all trial and error. What works for you and what doesn’t. You’ll figure out your strengths and your weaknesses. I mean, I’m totally embarrassed by Cronus Rising so much that I deleted it off every single site because I saw how terrible my writing was back then. I cringe anytime someone brings it up to me. But let me tell you, you never get better if you don’t try. You just got to keep writing and you’ll get better and better every single chapter. By your second story, you’ll be in a groove and it will be better than the last. The next story will be even better.

In conclusion. Just write. Every day. Even if it’s a few paragraphs. It will keep you sharpen and keep you engaged and you’ll remember your plot a lot better that way.

I hope that helps. Feel free to PM me anytime with any questions. I’m not an expert by any means. There are plenty of fanfiction writers out there who are far better than me. But I’m willing to offer support, encouragement, or whatever I can. Good luck!!

[hareharrison]

hold me

pairing: george harrison x reader

summary: george is in the process of finishing abbey road, and has been repeatedly coming home frustrated. instead of talking to you about it, he distances himself completely, and only speaks to you in annoyance or anger, and lashes out on you. he doesn’t know how much it affects you and one day comes home to the effects firsthand.

warnings: hurt/comfort, angst, angy geo, neurodivergent reader, invasive thoughts, mental breakdown/panic attack, but it works out in the end

a/n: hayyyy ok so i wrote this as a comfort fic for myself, and i decided to post it cause why not. i struggle with intense fear of abandonment cause of bpd haha fun 😐and wanted to make it from the POV of a neurodivergent reader?? so this is like a comfort fic for ND readers?? idk if i need to put any other potential trigger warnings for this but if i do please lmk and i will fix it

year: 1969

the flat was quiet without him. to be honest, it was quiet with or without him, lately. as much as you didn’t want to admit it, george had been distant. he was always a quiet person, but he has never dismissed you this much. you knew that his job could be tiring and you tried not to overthink it, but you couldn’t help but feel bad. a voice in your head was planting horrible ideas, saying things like, “you fucked up, he doesn’t like you anymore, you’re annoying.” but still, you pushed on and tried your best to ignore the noise in your brain.

you sigh heavily and slide back into the couch. you had the next two days off of work, and nothing to do. george of course had to work on your days off, which left you alone at home. with your thoughts. it was hard getting through today, your intrusive thoughts were particularly loud... but he would be home any minute now, which brought on a bit of hope; seeing him should rid you of your own jailhoused mind.

the tv played some sitcom in front of you, which you had no interest in. all you could think about was if you ruined things. what if he was thinking of leaving you? it would be your fault... and yet you couldn’t think of a single thing you’ve ever done that might have hurt him.

the door opened gently and let in a cool draft that brushed against your warm skin. you look toward the entrance, seeing your george sigh heavily with exhaustion as he took his shoes and coat off. he looked up to you, his boldly furrowed brows softening.

“hi, love,” he says, walking toward you. you stand and approach him to greet him with a quick kiss. he holds you for a little longer than usual, and you take the opportunity to melt into his arms and breathe in his smell, something you’d been deprived of recently. he rests his chin on top of your head, which laid comfortably on his rising chest. it was moments like this that made all your worries slip away, moments like this that you wished you could cling onto forever and ever.

“how was your day?” you ask, finally leaning back to look up at him. he lets go of you and runs a hand through his long hair.

“not good,” he says, a frown on his perfectly sculpted face. you return his expression at the sight of him being sad. quickly, you remember your dinner ideas. maybe that would cheer him up.

“hey, maybe we can go get something to eat? maybe get your mind off of things?” you suggest, looking up at his brown eyes. he looks down at you, eyes full of regret.

“i’m sorry love, but i’d rather just head to bed already,” he says remorsefully. you smile softly and reassure him that it’s okay and he should get some rest. but part of you breaks inside, knowing he doesn’t want to spend time with you.

he headed upstairs and you followed, the painful ideas returning at full speed.

“you’re so annoying, of course he doesn’t want to spend any time with you. you’re so annoying and clingy,” your brain says and you flinch at the harsh thoughts. through your entire bedtime routine, thoughts flooded your mind and filled your entire being up, and you felt like you were being drowned from the inside out. george stood next to you as you both brushed your teeth, not speaking a single word to you or giving you a single glance. you changed into one of george’s t-shirts and watched as he slid out of his clothes and into his pajamas in seconds. he muttered a monotone, “good night,” before turning on his side, his back facting you.

as much as you didn’t want to, you believed the mean voices and hung your head as you got into bed next to george.

you slept back to back that night.

————————————————————

the sun seeped into your room through your windows, and invaded your bed, waking you rather unpleasantly. you groan lightly as you reached over your bed for george, but only found empty space. his side of the bed was cold, indicating that he’d been up for a while now.

you sit up slowly, rubbing your eyes as the aromas of freshly brewed coffee and morning dew hit your senses. you hear the song of the early birds chirping as your feet hit the cool floor. as you head downstairs, you can hear george on the phone, and you soon see him muttering softly before taking a long drag from his cigarette. you don’t bother him, seeing that there was paperwork on the table and his call must be business related. naturally, you decide to head for the coffee, the smell luring you in like a fish.

you poured the hot, dark liquid into your favorite mug and add in your preferred amounts of cream and sugar. looking out the window, you see water drip gently from the leaves of a tree that george and you had planted a year ago. you sip your coffee and reminisce about the times you used to actually spend time with george. how nice it was, seeing him smile so often.

you suddenly hear george raise his voice at the phone, something unlike him entirely. you jump at the unpleasant sound before peeking through the hallway to see what on earth was happening.

“no, i don’t care! i want the bloody bastard fired, in fact, tell him not to bother showing up today,” he shouts into the phone before slamming it down, placing his head between his knees and groaning in frustration. seeing george this upset and acting out on it was truly a rare sighting, and you thought carefully about what to next.

after careful consideration, you tiptoe into the room and gently rest a hand on his shoulder, the sudden contact making him flinch.

“christ, (y/n) are you trying to give me a bloody heart attack?” he grumbles before lighting another cigarette.

“sorry,” you say softly, “would you like some tea?” you figure it could calm his anger and soothe some of his abnormal irritability.

“what? tea? there’s already coffee made,” he says rudely. you take a step back, saying nothing. you know that you didn’t do anything and that this behavior would pass. george was never like this. your eyes find the time and see that george should have left ten minutes ago.

“george, you’re gonna be late to work,” you say, thinking you could at least do something helpful. his head snaps back at you and his once soft face turned hard with anger.

“what are you implying? you want me gone?” he stands up and angrily grabs all of the papers scattered on the table, shoving them into a folder and the folder into his bag, “fine, i’ll leave. im out the door.”

you look at him in confusion, you’d barely woken up and were just trying to help, “what’s the matter with you?”

“what’s the matter with me,” he repeats, looking away and scoffing. he runs his hand through his hair in frustration, “im sick of this, (y/n)! im sick of life. i come home exhausted and you have half a mind to ask me if i want to talk about it!”

“you always want to go straight to bed,” you defend yourself, hurt that he would even suggest that you don’t care about him. his dark eyes glare into your own for a moment that feels like hours, trying to think of somethig clever to say in response, but he just wasn’t ever much of a fighter. he finally chooses to put his cigarette out on the table’s ashtray and grab his coat. if you wanted him out of the house, he was more than happy to comply.

“george-“ you start.

“no,” he cuts you off, “don’t say anything right now, i can’t even look at you.” and he doesn’t, he ignores your presence entirely as he picks up his bag and walks out the door.

you’re left in the cold house, alone, hurt, and dumbfounded. you couldn’t believe what had just happened. you couldn’t believe that george, your george, had taken his anger out on you, simply for trying to help his morning be less shitty. worse than that, he thought you wanted him gone, when all you wanted was to be with him. is this how it was going to be now? a bitter, loveless relationship? your eyes sting with fresh tears at the thought, and a huge lump in your throat grows painfully. you take a deep breath before heading upstairs. you wanted anything but to cry this early in the morning, and the only reason you got up somewhat early was to see george before he left to work. now that your morning was ruined, you figured heading back to bed was the next best thing.

you climb back into your shared bed, suppressing your emotions with the warmth of your fluffy blankets and soft pillows. the comfort of a bed felt almost like a hug, and you sighed, letting the pain drift away as you fell asleep.

————————————————————

when you opened your eyes, the realization hit you. you’d slept until the sun began to set, completely ignoring your emotions, stuffing them down inside of you like an overflowing trash can. being awake made them fling right back at you; sleeping didn’t change a thing, and was only a temporary pause in your pain.

all of your feelings came back to you at once, and it once again felt like you were drowning internally. only this time, the thoughts weren’t the invasive factor. your emotions were overwhelmingly intense on top of your brain practically screaming horrible things to you. your breathing quickens as you feel tears slide down your face. this time you werent able to swallow the thick lump in your throat, and you began to weep softly.

this was it, george was leaving you. he hates you, he wants nothing to do with you. there was nothing you could do but hug your knees and cry. you choked on a sob and started rocking back and forth in attempts to try to soothe yourself. but you couldn’t stop, it felt like your entire world was falling apart. you soon began to have shortness of breath and struggled with your breathing, feeling your heart beat at an intense rate that you couldn’t control.

your bedroom door opens, revealing george’s early arrival. he immediately rushes to your side, afraid to touch you but wanting so bad to comfort you.

“(y/n)? (y/n), breathe. breathe, baby,” he takes your hand and you look at him. you aren’t sure if him being here is making the situation better or worse. seeing him try to help you stirred all kinds of feelings in your mind. you felt like you weren’t good enough for him, like you didn’t deserve his help.

george begins breathing in through his nose and out of his mouth, gently guiding you and hoping you will try to do the same. he sits in front of you on the bed and holds your face in his gentle hands. you look up into his eyes, the chocolate features of his face soothing you as your breath began to steady.

“that’s it,” he encourages.

“do you hate me?” you cry softly.

“what? no, (y/n), i’d give my life for yours, do you know that? you’re so, very special to me,” he slides over to sit beside you on the bed and wraps his long arms around you.

“why are you so distant?” you look up at him, and tears continue to roll down your flushed cheeks, “you acted so mean to me this morning, i feel like you want nothing to do with me.”

george is hurt by your words. he truly didn’t mean to be distant, and he never wanted to hurt you.

“i’m sorry,” he says, “ive been so overwhelmed i haven’t stopped to think of how you must feel. im really sorry my love i never meant to hurt you like this.” he embraces you tightly and you give into his comforting touch, wrapping your arms around his torso and digging your face into his chest. 

you take a deep breath, “i understand,” you say before looking up to him to whisper, “i miss you. i miss us.”

“i miss you too darling,” he pauses for a moment, “how about i take tomorrow off? we can do whatever you’d like.”

you sniffle, “what about the album? the deadline?” 

“i can fake sick. nothing is more important to me than you,” he says, “i want nothing more than to be with you. i love you so much.”

you smile when he presses a soft kiss to your aching head, “now how about we go have something to eat? i’m starved.”

[chemicalpink]

Lonely Hearts Club ♡ BTS OT7

Pairing: female reader x OT7

Warning: smut. polyamory. kinda voyeurism (? like- how else are you supposed to make an 8 people intercourse work.

A/N: this has a very poor representation of polyamory ok. It actually contains everything that is not how polyamory works, but it’s in favour of the theme. This is my last work for the Electra Heart Series

Summary: January to December, do you wanna be a member? In this Lonely Hearts Club, do you want to be with somebody like us? 

Genre: smut

Word Count: 4.5k

“Where are you going Kookie?” Taehyung called from his spot cuddled on Jimin’s side without really tearing his eyes from the screen as they both watched some movie on the couch, a usual Friday night. 

Jungkook paused for half a second as he made sure he had everything in his pocket before heading to the door “Out”

“Out where?” Jungkook groaned loudly at the questioning, as if it were nothing common within their relationship, determined to extend the silence in the room long enough to be comfortably dismissed from the conversation.

“Out with that girl he has yet to come clean to” Yoongi mentioned as he made his way to the living room, bag of chips in hand and stuffing a few inside his mouth as he did “which by the way, I’ve told him a thousand times before, it’s not decent to keep on leading her on”

“I’m not” the youngest murmured under his breath, which earned him a pointed look from Yoongi, followed by the TV pausing and both of the other men to turn their attention to him “I’m not leading her on”

A hand was placed on his right shoulder from behind, making him startle, wide doe eyes in full display as Seokjin voiced his input in the situation “You’re going out with a girl that we all know likes you while being a relationship, Jungkookie” Seokjin made the most overdramatic pout “I’d say that’s leading her on, plus, placing us second”

Jungkook let out a heavy sigh, already knowing he was about to be very late to the date “You guys all said you were okay with me dating out of the circle”

“You know we’re messing with you, come on, you’ll be late for your date” he’d have to thank Namjoon for always coming to the rescue when Seokjin was being a little bit too much.

If someone was to tell him he would end up in a polyamorous relationship he would have laughed in their face. If someone was to tell him that he would end up in a polyamorous relationship with the six older men he was forced to share his college unit with, he would have crumbled apart right there and then, it was no secret whatsoever that he had the biggest crush on the six of them the moment he first saw them, call it gay panicking or whatever.

And you see, things were going smooth, at least as smooth as they could be when 7 people are dating each other, minus the stares when they went out in public, the questioning of their not so close friends and the constant battle royale when it came down to sleeping arrangements, it was smooth. Until you came along. Sure, after eight months of him joining the polycule, and people unable to think outside their monogamous mindset, a fair number of guys and girls had approached him, which was always meant to go in either of two possible ways:

First, and best, case scenario, they were only interested in a fling, a one night stand that ultimately turns into a somewhat friendly distanced greeting when on campus, it was a thing between the seven men after all, being able to casually date outside the circle and understanding that the strongest emotional bond was with their boyfriends at home, although… Jungkook was the one doing it most often, Jimin following him casually in indulging in the pleasure of casual sex from time to time.

Second, and the hardest scenario due to him having the softest heart (if having Hoseok cutting ties with his potential partners in more than one occasion is anything to go by) is when after the first scenario, people keep trying to get in touch with him, not that there’s anything wrong with it but he wasn’t interested, plus, when he went as far as explaining the whole polyamory situation, people would dismiss it as an non-existent relationship or worse yet, there was a guy that went as far as telling him that all he needed was to be ‘dicked down good enough’ for him to stop being polyamorous; Yoongi had gone and had a friendly talk with the dude when Jungkook went home that night crying (he might have sent the guy to ER but there’s really no way to know)

So really, third case scenario was way out of control for him, said scenario being you. Never asking anything too invasive, hooked up a few times and even made him breakfast one of them which ended up with Jungkook bolting right out of your apartment, thinking that was it and he’d never see you again but boy was he wrong, you had texted him after to make sure he was okay, had the most amazing round of make up sex (could it even be called that when you two didn’t even fight? and it was all just him being a moron?).

So here’s the thing, maybe his heart started picking up when he saw you, maybe he started feeling butterflies when you two made out on your couch, maybe the blurred line between being a casual hook up and falling for you had become no line at all, and soon enough his hyungs started pestering him that he shouldn’t play with your feelings. God how much easier would it be if you were a student at his campus, with the amount of talk about the ‘7 best looking guys being in a polyamorous relationship’ really would have done the trick, so that he could stop the inner fear of losing you that came with owning it up and telling you he was indeed not just bisexual, but in an eight month relationship with 6 guys.

So far, Namjoon had had the most serious talk with him ever since he was invited to join the relationship, then came Yoongi constantly bickering with him as a passive agressive way to get him to come clean, Hoseok aggressively cuddling him while whispering borderline nasty and teasing things to him while Seokjin, Taehyung and Jimin had made it their job to try and gatekeep him from you before any date with the theatrics of non existent jealousy. Deep down he knew it was wrong, so wrong of him to keep such a vital piece of information from you, then again, he couldn’t bear the feeling of seeing you being disgusted for his love choices, polyamory was one hell of a misunderstood topic, often overseen as being greedy and unable to choose. Which was a blatant lie. He had made a choice eight months ago, and it pained him to even think that if the time came, he would have to stand by it. He would choose the six of them all over again. No doubts in his mind he would choose them over you if it came to be like that.

What if he had spent a week bawling his eyes out at night after a date with you and quality time at home, people should mind their own business. And the men he loved the most in the world were proving to be deserving of his love yet again. He had cried one last time after thinking just how much they were meaning to go out of their way to keep Jungkook happy. They had kept him in their best interests when they decided that maybe, prior further consideration and a serious talk involving you and Jungkook, maybe an eight addition wouldn’t be so bad. 

“God I can’t believe we are not only condoning this behaviour but now we are endorsing it” Seokjin mentioned in one of his many overdramatic tones as he and Namjoon placed some delicious looking dishes out in their small backyard where they had all dressed up the place when little Jungkookie announced he was bringing you over.

Namjoon was quick to attempt to calm his boyfriend down while placing a small kiss on his lips “You’re overthinking” 

“Oh, I’m overthinking? How about Mr Jeon Jungkook who apparently can neither keep it in his pants nor grow a pair and tell someone that they are polyamorous, huh?” Namjoon really had to try his hardest not to burst out laughing at the way Seokjin’s words seemed to blend in together as they came out of his mouth in a flow that resembled a rap song “Don’t you try and gaslight me, Namjoon, I’ll have you know, psychology was my major before it was yours” 

“Doctor Kim has a beautiful ring to it” 

Seokjin did not stop a whole minute to stop placing everything out on the table as he kept on bickering with the younger “Don’t try to woo me Kim Namjoon, I know you only like the ring of it because we share the last name” 

Jimin walked out the exact moment they were blasting fiery heart eyes at each other, nothing out of the ordinary in their dynamic, “Seokjin-hyung, Namjoon-hyung, I think she’s here” the youngest of the three lend a hand for the whole table to be set in record time, already hearing an additional female voice that didn’t use to be there before coming from inside “I don’t think Taehyung’s on board with all...this” 

“What do you mean he’s not on board, we talked about it before!” if there was the slightest bit of panic in Namjoon’s eyes, he was one hell of an actor to have it covered up as soon as he sensed Seokjin stiff on his side and the whole room began to feel stuffy even when being outside.

“Tae says he’s not coming down for dinner” Hoseok announced as he popped his head outside “Y/N is talking in the living room with Kookie and Yoongi, she seems nice” before disappearing inside the house.

“I fucking told you all of this would come to bite us in the ass Joonie, eight people is one person too many” may Seokjin’s inability to read eye expressions be damned when Namjoon and Jimin tried to get him to keep his voice down before any more damage was caused.

A mop of black hair popped up from inside just the way Hoseok had done before, startling the three men outside when Jungkook spoke “Hey, is everything alright?”

“Yeah, totally” Jimin tried to fake a smile which ended up being the fakest smile he had ever put on his face, making the youngest squint his eyes at the three of them in a questioning manner, a few seconds away from dismissing it, Seokjin broke 

“Taehyung is not taking part”

“What do you mean Taehyung is not taking part?” Jungkook’s eyes widened almost comically but anyone could see the anxiety and panic rising in them, Namjoon ever the peacemaker in the relationship intervening 

“Tae says he’s backing down, but I’ll have a talk with him and-”

“I’ll do it” Jungkook shook his head as he took off back inside to the opposite side from which he came from; even with the whole uncertainty of the situation, it was sure not to head the right way it should have.

“That sounds lovely, I can just imagine” you said as Namjoon, who had just introduced himself, finished a random story about all seven of them “So.. you all live here together then?”

“Oh yeah, inseparable bond and what not” Seokjin, the oldest of the seven smiled somewhat uncomfortably at you, avoiding any type of direct contact. At first it really seemed to have taken the right turn, chatting with Yoongi and Hoseok after Jungkook left to see if anything else was needed before dinner, but then things started to shift, an unknown but uncomfortable silence filling the room every now and then, the way Jimin couldn’t stop fidgeting in his seat and Seokjin made little to no effort to not show just how uncomfortable he was. Jungkook had mentioned earlier that his housemates could be somewhat weird, without mentioning exactly how, but from the looks of it, it had something to do with dating within themselves. 

“Hey, do you mind if I use your restroom?” 

“Ah sure, upstairs, first door to the left” Yoongi answered with a tight lip smile on his face, everyone’s eyes discreetly following you in silence until your figure couldn’t be seen, probably out of earshot as murmurs took over the living room.

Not that you really needed to use the toilet but it would be nice to splash some cold water in your face if you wanted to even try and survive the rest of the night, but as you reached the end of the stairs, a room across what seemed to be the bathroom caught your attention, snuffling noises coming from the inside, and you really should stick to your own business, but how much weirder could the night go? apparently, exponentially weirder.

You reached the door that was conveniently slightly open, allowing you to take a peek inside, a guy sitting beside Jungkook  on the bed as he rubbed circles in the small of his back at the same time as he whispered things to his ear and you felt a pang in your chest, not really believing the whole sexual tension inside the room, perhaps your mind playing with you; up until the guy clearly nibbled Jungkook’s ear, a breathy moan escaping from his lips, your brain shortcircuiting between not understanding what was going on and finding it extremely hot.

“Tae no, you know I’m going out with Y/N” Jungkook said as the other guy moved around, seemingly placing a hand to his crotch in a playful manner, as far as the smirk in his face but obstruction of bodies allowed you to see from the door.

The guy’s eyes quickly turned to Jungkook in the biggest puppy stare you had ever seen, low voice above a whisper “Having someone around never stopped you before” 

“Please”

A heavier moan escaped from Jungkook’s mouth, hands immediately locking the guy around him as he straddled his hips on the bed “Do you not love us anymore?”

Whether it was whatever that was going on inside between the two of them, or the mention of love, that made you forget your compromising position, getting the feeling that you should stop watching and panicky closed the door, making your presence known, the world may never know, but there were thousands of thoughts running in your mind. Sure, Jungkook had never put a label on your relationship, and from time to time you had believed that perhaps there was something beautiful there, now coming to think of it, maybe his heart had always been occupied, as all those friends of yours that knew him from somewhere had once said to you, how it was the weirdest thing out there watching 7 great looking guys hanging out as if they were on a date, the unusual way they carried around each other. Not that it was bad, but i crushed your heart to know that you would never fit in, as much as you kicked it off with Jungkook and the sex was amazing, the dynamic between them seemed to put you as just a plaything for the youngest of them all.

“Y/N? Jungkookie wants to have a talk with you” you didn’t even noticed the shift of your surrounding, knowing Jungkook, how he most probably bolted right out of the room when they heard the door close forcefully, too absorbed in your thoughts, still too absorbed in your thoughts as Hoseok led you back down, sitting you down a few feet away from where Jungkook was seated, the TV playing a random programme in the back “You two do your stuff, we’ll be outside, feel free to join, okay?”

The TV Show echoed in the dark, it seemed like it had been hours since you joined Jungkook in his living room, wanting nothing more than cross the door and never see him again, but he was a great kid, you knew just how much he would blame himself over what were your insecurities and inability to speak up on the matter, on never questioning what game you two were playing, sleeping around, going on dates but not getting involved. Until he was the first one to speak up.

“I am in a polyamorous relationship, Y/N” he heaved a sigh, as if the world was lifting from his shoulders “Have been for the last eight months” 

Your heart sped up, the words unable to leave your lips, all tangled up on your brain “You should have told me before” you turned your face to where he was at the same time as he did the same “I would have understood”

“I don’t want to leave you”

“I know” which, you did know, time and time again he had made it clear that there was so much more to your relationship, although Jungkook wouldn’t express it out loud “I would love to have you… if there’s a way”

Jungkook’s doe eyes seemed to shine brighter at your words, although you could see tears forming in them “I don’t understand why would you want to be with someone like me” 

“Jeon Jungkook”  you scooted yourself to be closer to him, placing a delicate hand on his shoulder “Some people are so full of love they can give a way to a lot of people, I understand that” his eyes lighted up at your words, the tiniest bit of hope in them 

A hand was placed on your shoulder, softly grabbing the exposed skin, making you turn your head to see Hoseok, shadows playing on his face as he smirked down at you “Plus, love will never be forever, might as well have seven plans ahead, right Y/N?” 

You could feel a lump in your throat at that, images of what you had witnessed inside the bedroom with Jungkook and his friend still fresh in your mind, clearing your throat you hesitated “Uhm.. I really don’t know how to feel about all this Hoseok” but as soon as the words left your mouth you could see the rest of the boys joining the living room, as if you were some kind of prey you were after, the only source of light coming from the fairy lights in the backyard, illuminating them as they approached, hiding their true intentions in their eyes at the same time as their faces became darker, heart thumping inside your ribcage

“Oh come on, Y/N I saw you looking at Jungkookie and I outside our bedroom” Taehyung mentioned, which made you flush, fortunately going unnoticed by the lack of light, although he chuckled as he once again straddled Jungkook inches beside you, an all-too familiar image of the both of them as he grinded hard down on Jungkook’s crotch, earning him a groan from the youngest  “Seemed to me you were enjoying it a bit too much”

A firm hand underneath your chin turned you to face upwards by the slightest, a face that took you seconds to recognise as Yoongi’s too close to yours, grazing his lips with yours before he tutted and added a “Good girls are meant to share their toys Y/N” for good measure.

“Jungkookie here practically gave you up before asking you to join us” Jimin added as he took a sit beside you, body clinging to Yoongi who was still too close to you

“I just-” you turned your face to Jungkook, who was currently busy with his mouth all over Taehyung and Hoseok, both on each side of him as they seemed to get an equal amount of attention from the youngest, your lower abdomen firing up at the image and the prospect of you taking part in the dynamic “I guess it doesn’t really sound so bad”

“Even Seokjin is willing to give you a taste” spoke Namjoon as he walked into the area with Seokjin just inches behind him, nodding his head when you locked eyes with the eldest “But I bet you’ll be Yoongi-hyung’s favourite”

“It’s your turn to call the shots, Y/N”

Instead of a response, you pull on Jimin’s shirt until he leans onto you, capturing you lips in his in a kiss that seems to last just seconds before he is placing you on top of him, allowing Yoongi to take you previous spot, caressing you side so when you lean back to catch a breath, his mouth is on yours stealing your breath away; out of the corner of your eye you watch as Hoseok has his hand inside Jungkook’s pants “Sharing is caring, Yoongi” you remind him as he tries to have a second go, Jimin’s laughter underneath you hitting the right places as he frictions his front side up to you, earning a soft moan from your lips, which only turns to a second one when you feel two wet mouths on each side of your jaw, gently nibbling on the skin before they stopped to kiss right in front of you, tongues catching, groans escaping from each of Seokjin and Namjoon throat before they turned to look at you and retrieved to their original spot to entertain themselves.

“As much as I’d love to take her, I think it’s best if we let Jungkook welcome her into our dynamic” a soft laugh falls from Jimin’s lips as you quietly gasp when he places you on the couch, an awaiting Jungkook on your side, the blond man taking his turn with Yoongi a few inches away.

Jungkook’s eyes seem dazed, and he quickly finds your mouth, just the way he did all those times before, except that now it was somewhat different from them, in a room full of people, his boyfriends, yours soon to be; as he absentmindedly tongues your bottom lip to deepen the kiss, a single hand slides underneath the fabric of your shirt as the other grips around your thigh, slowly working its way to where you could already feel your panties dampening. Fingers dancing familiarly over your nipples, “God I don’t know what I’d have done if you said no to this”, you barely register his words so you just nod in agreement, desperately wanting him to touch you where you needed the most. Warm fingers find your folds, stroking them slowly, squelching sounds that somehow don't seem to phase the way the rest of the group keeps on having their tongues deep down on someone elses throat, changing partners everytime you look up. The tips of his fingers find your entrance, slowly working a pace in and out, pairing it with wet kissed to your exposed neck as you try and hold on to his shirt for dear life “You’re so wet already”

His fingers pick up speed, barely curling into that soft spot inside you. Hips lifting slightly as your head lulls back against his shoulder, peaking both Jimin and Yoongi’s interest from beside you, a clear interest in the action if the way their pants seem to grow tighter by the second “Hey baby, is Jungkookie making you feel good?” voice raspy, dark, but soft lips on your own as the youngest kept his pace with his fingers, stretching you open on the couch.

“She sounds so sweet I can’t wait to taste her” Yoongi adds as his hand reaches out inside Jimin’s pants, starting to stroke his member to life. And that’s when you see it. Namjoon and Seokjin, ever so reserved, in their own little world, sitting across from all the action, hands on each other’s bulge, not daring to look away from you. And it somehow stirs you in all the right places, mind set already on giving them the best show ever. 

Hands cup your breasts from behind you, softly massaging them, feather like kisses on the back of your neck as your shirt is lifted, bra forgotten and your tits are free for everyone in the room to watch and enjoy, a voice behind you, owner of the hands pinching your nipples whispering in your ear “I’m willing to forgive you interrupting quality time with Kookie”

You feel a pinching in your clit joining Jungkook’s fingers pistoning into you, making you reach your orgasm in record time in a broken mess of calling out Jungkook’s name. Hoseok’s instantly reaching for the waistband of your panties to pull them down “Well I’d say, dinner’s served,Yoongi-hyung” before said man is  leaning forward, Yoongi’s hands exchanging Jimin’s cock for your knees – holding your legs open. Yoongi’s tongue takes a bold lick over your slit before he’s diving in, lips attaching to your clit as the tip of his tongue flicks against it. Hoseok’s chin is rested on your shoulder,ocassionaly opening up your outer lips to allow the elder a deeper access to your cunt,  watching Yoongi’s  tongue fuck into you. You could feel Taehyung’s thick length pressed into your lower back, the slow lift of his hips dragging it against you. Soft groans from the friction falling from his lips, mixing with the husky moans that echo from around the room as everyone watched Yoongi intently. Your eyes find Seokjin and Namjoon across the room, both of whom have since pulled their cocks from behind their pants, glistening tips on full display as their large hands stroke over the base of each other, their  hips moving to match the movement of their hands.

The tongue between your legs moves swiftly, pushing past your folds and slipping into your entrance, lapping up the juices from your past orgasm as Hoseok leans down to share a wet kiss with him, then Jungkook, the three of them tasting you on their tongues. As Yoongi returns to his spot between your legs, he moans against your core like the taste of you is the most delicious thing to ever hit his tongue, the sound sending vibrations through your body that has your cunt tingling, not far from your next release. “Aah- Yoongi” you gasp, reaching down to tangle your fingers in his hair, pushing his face further between your legs.

“You gonna cum all over my tongue, huh?” his movements intensify, nose pressed against your clit, rubbing it precisely as it makes you fall apart in a rush of desperate pleas before he removes himself from his position, chin covered in your juices to which you can’t help but moan at the sight of as he licks his lips in delight. His lips capture yours once he’s on your eye level,  hand set on the back of your head to keep you still, mouth instantly flooded with your taste, pulling away with fiery eyes and a smirk. “Joon was right, you’re gonna be my favourite”

[apexland]

Spared

Bloodhound x Reader 

Warnings! Swearing, Violence

Might be a few errors here and there, still need to go through it properly!

Preparing for the drop every legend had a different pre-game ritual that helped get them in the zone before the beginning of every match, some more questionable than others such as Octane who uses the time for gaming, completely strange but I think it would be more concerning to see him sitting still or the likes of Revenant who always disappears before the drop, Mirage always says he’s away skinning something or doing something murderous. Bloodhound though they have always been a scary legend to come face to face with in battles, before every match they sit sharpening the edge of axe that they always carried along with them. Bloodhound always kept their cards close, never giving much away and I think that was the scariest part, being unpredictable. At least with Dr. Caustic you knew he wanted to watch you die a slow and painful death within his toxic gas. 

My ritual before the drop was listening to music, eyes closed, I found it easier than talking to the people I was about to face off with in the arena - it made it easier to pull the trigger without hesitation. 

As I let out sigh I took out my ear buds, knowing from experience the exact time of the drop, opening my eyes I was met with the blank stare of Bloodhounds mask from across the room the slight red glare that stained the glass looking right back at me. 

I peeled my eyes away once the squads flashed up on the screen. “Race you to the LZ” Octane’s rang out from beside me as we stepped on the platform. I rolled my eyes at him.

“You know we don’t have to race if we are on the same team Silva” He was still jumping on the spot the sound of his legs clanking against the ground. 

“Where’s the fun in that amigo?” 

“Let’s break some circuits” Wattson giggled from the other side of me. “Man, I really need to get a phrase” I said, fixing the strap of my boot, before the floor began to open and we were lowered above the destroyed land of World’s Edge, a chaotic mix of the epicentre that lay thick with snow, the dome that was surrounded by deadly lava - making it all the more scarier to fight near it, one wrong move and you would be cooked.

Octane - the adrenaline junkie that he is decided that fragment west would be the best option. The most popular landing spots amongst old and new legends and the spectators favourite spot to see a quick bloodbath. But, luck was most defiantly not on my side today scouting two floors and still having no weapon was not ideal. 

“I need a weapon” I said over the comms, sighing at all of the ammo that was one the floor but no gun.

“There’s a Mozambique here” Wattson’s voice came back over the comms.

“Hey! Isn’t that Chey’s line” Octane laughed. I picked up a few more syringes and cells before letting out a sigh followed by a quiet ‘dibs’. It was a good gun but nothing compared the dominant R-99 or the Volt, which judging by my luck the enemies would already be kitted with.

We moved to another building but it was long before the sound of footsteps sounded around us. “We’ve got friends here” I said quietly, a glimmer of luck started to appear when I found a hemlock of the lack of heavy ammo was disappointing. 

Wattson had put up her fences, the loud sound of the burning electricity warned the enemies off slightly. I peaked through one of the barred windows, spotting wraith who was focused on another door of our building I took the shot but she was quick to phase away. 

“Careful Horizon’s probably going to throw her ultimate over here” I warned my squad mates but Wattson quickly replied “I’ll take care of that”

“Wattson now!” I shouted as I seen newt being thrown towards us along with the deadly gas of caustic but luckily the pylon zapped them both down.

“Let’s go!” Octane yelled as he jammed the syringe into his leg before speeding off and we quickly followed, “Watch for traps Silva” I said, trying to catch up with him. I spotted Wraith trying to portal them out of the building, taking it back as she got the warning in her head. I quickly placed down on of my spike traps, pressure sensitive that once stepped on will send a deadly spike usually through the leg disabling the legend, which is exactly what it had down to Caustic as he was the next one to appear through the rift. 

Quickly taking him out, not giving him a chance to put down one of his traps as he muttered a ‘damn you’. Focusing back on the other two, Octane was already pushing to the building along with Wattson and taking care of the rest of the squad.

Finally getting better loot, I started feeling more positive about the match until the sound of Bloodhounds scan and us being in range. “Shit” I whispered. “We need to move now!” 

We scrambled back into the building, but Wattson had been took down by a triple take, I looked behind be to see the same stained red glass looking back at me as Bloodhound lifted their head from the scope of the sniper.

Quickly getting to work by putting down traps at the doors, taking a peak out of the barred window I quickly ducked back down as a bullet skimmed past my ear from the same gun that took Wattson out. I felt the blood from where the bullet grazed but my attention was diverted by the door across from me opening and then scream from Loba as the spike was deep in her leg, taking my chance I used the mastiff that I picked up from the other team to quickly end things. 

One down, two to go. 

“Careful Silva, Bloodhound has a triple take” 

Rampart was the next of their squad to reveal herself as I heard the distant sound of a barrier being placed up along with Sheila’s red laser scanning the walls ready to shred someone apart. 

“You’ve got to be kidding me” I groaned, just as another one of Bloodhound’s scan revealed us yet again. 

“Can you distract them Silva?” Pulling out one of my most deadly traps, once it hit the ground it sends out a wave of spikes that usually without fail impales the enemy long enough for them to need to heal and just the perfect amount of time for me to take them amount.

There was silence from Silva before I seen the green flash of him flying across the other building from his jump pad, that must be the distraction. I quickly snuck out of the building as I heard them both firing at the adrenaline junkie, quickly pulling the pin of the trap with my teeth, I tossed it in the middle of the pair. Octane had went down because of being lasered with Sheila. Getting closer I finished off Rampart, but as I was about to search for Bloodhound, they found me. 

The scary roar of his beast of the hunt sounded out.

Shit

Making a run for it, I didn’t get very far before a bullet got me right in the stomach, wheezing out for air at the sudden impact. Pulling myself up, my back leaning against the wall, the hunter came closer just like a predator stalking their prey. 

They bend down in front of me but as I waited for them to put me out of my misery I felt a hand caress my cheek, confusion washed over me. The hand moved to ghost over the tried blood that had trailed down the side of area and followed the trail on to my neck, goose bumps appearing after every touch. “You fought well, felagi fighter” My heart was thumping, they were so close it was almost making me forget that I was basically bleeding out, which I eventually did but the comfort from the hound made it less painful. 

_____________________________

Waking up in the respawn chambers up, I sat up with haste but immediately feeling the pain in my abdomen which made all of the events from the match flood back to me. Did I imagine it? Did it really happen?”

Then it came to me.

Making my way to the control room, where the cameras got all the footage the process of editing and making sure it’s ready to be aired to the spectators. I knocked on the door waiting for a response before the door flew open. 

“Hey Ezekiel, can you get me my body camera footage from the last match” He looked at me with a tilt of his head”

“Sur- is everything ok?” He asked, looking at me with concern. 

“Yeah, I just missed a few shots and want to review the footage in training” He nodded before turning around and handing me a USB.

“Thank you, appreciate it”

Taking the drive and heading to my room before plugging it in and clicking on the file with my name labelled on it. Skipping all of the footage until I got to the last fight. It did happen and I didn’t imagine it, I closed the screen of the laptop before biting my nail trying to think of what I should do.

Was I overthinking everything? But they didn’t kill me. They should have, like they had done to both of squad mates.

“Hey Anita, have you seen Bloodhound?” The solider was sat down with one of the weapon manuals that was lying around the communal area, building on her already extensive knowledge of every weapon to ever be created.

“Last time I seen them was in the training yard” I gave a quick nod. “Thanks, Anita”

“You’re welcome FNG” Pausing as I looked at her. “I’m not the new one anymore, you said you’d stop calling me that” 

She shrugged at me “It took you long enough to figure out what it meant, you think I am just going to let that go”

 I rolled my eyes at her mumbling ‘funny’, followed by a laugh from Anita “You’re right it is” She always loved when people didn’t follow her military talk, it meant she could basically speak in her own language without anyone knowing it was meant to make fun of them. 

Making my way to the training yard I pushed the door open, there was few other legends training but everyone usually kept well spaced apart because nobody wanted to get dropped in the training yard, that would be embarrassing. 

I spotted the tall frame of the hound, they were on one the last rows.  

Stopping behind them as the Raven’s bite axe flew to the target landing right on the dummy’s heart, I swallowed. Quickly putting my fear aside before I looked like an idiot just standing ther-

“How can I assist you?” Their voice rang out. Of course Bloodhound already new I was here, walking to the target they collected their axe finally looking at me as they walked back to their original standing position. 

“Ah- I just wanted to ask you something” I said, trying to look anywhere but at the intense gaze that was starting back at me. They nodded, giving me the go ahead to continue.

“Why didn’t you kill me” I asked 

“Did you want me to kill you?” They asked, sounding almost puzzled. I let out a sigh “No- I don’t mean it like tha-” I stopped myself, feeling like an idiot I should have just left it alone. 

Bloodhound tilted their head “You know, never mind- it doesn’t matter” but as I was about to walk off i felt a hand on my wrist, stopping me suddenly. “If it is bothering you, tell me” Bloodhound came closer, the close proximity throwing me off once again.

“Like you did with Wattson and Octane” I paused for a second trying to ignore how close they were to me and gather my thoughts “You took them right out, with no mercy- but you waited with me”

“I didn’t want you to suffer” They spoke, the hand came up to push my hair behind my ear, revealing the small stitches on the top of my ear caused from the triple take bullet. The same movement had that they had done in the match brought back the same feelings, causing me to hold my breathe trying to keep my composure. 

Their hand moved to my stomach grazing over the same area of where they had shot me. “The same reason I shot you here, because it would only wind you and the pain would be minimal” 

The touch sent Goosebumps all over my body, my heart hammering in my ears as I looked up at Bloodhound. “Why” I whispered, both of us lost in the moment because we had managed to get even closer barely any space between our bodies.

“You are special, the Allfather has blessed me with you” Their thumb tracing over my bottom lip then falling to my jaw tracing the few dotted cuts on it slowly, “that is why I could not kill you”

[babymetaldoll]

The morning after (Spilling drinks on my settee part 2) Spencer Reid/Reader

Requested: Yes! it’s my first request! thank you, anon!! 

Prompt: Hungover Spencer has to face Reader after she caught him drunk, puking outside her house. He also has to face Morgan’s teasing after he confessed he was in love with Reader.

Pairing: Spencer/Reader 

Warnings: none 

Category: Fluff

Word count: 1,9K 

Part one here

Masterlist 

.

If it had been up to Spencer, he would have never left his bed that day. As soon as he opened his eyes, the headache that hit him made him realize that was going to be a long day. A long and shitty day. 

He sat on his bed slowly ‘cos the whole room was spinning. He was still fully dressed, why? There was puke on his shoes and pants… and a Gatorade on his nightstand? He was confused, he didn’t leave that there, right? no… maybe? he didn’t really remember. Why was he still dressed? he didn’t remember. How did he get home? he didn’t remember

- “Shit!”

Until he did. 

There was a flash of embarrassment, guilt, and nausea on his face, suddenly it was all coming back. 

- “Shit!”

That was the only word Spencer could use. He had gotten drunk, confessed to Morgan he was in love with (Y/N), he had actually tried to…

- “Shit!”

Maybe alcohol had managed to unplug a part of Reid’s brain, ‘cos apparently, “shit” was the only thing he was able to pronounce, at least for a few minutes.  

All the embarrassing memories of the night before kept coming back to his mind, they were fragments of someone else’s life he was watching from outside. It was all too humiliating. (Y/N) saw him puking outside her house. He was outside her house ‘cos he wanted to know why she had been out on a date with a guy from a dating website. He had told Morgan he loved her, and nearly cried. 

Spencer Walter Reid was doomed, and he knew it. It was going to take a lot of courage, patience, and Gatorade to go through that day. 

His cellphone kept buzzing, but once he realized it wasn’t a case, but (Y/N) and Morgan trying to reach him, he ignored it the whole subway ride to work. He couldn’t even read, his brain wasn’t working, he couldn’t concentrate at all. He just wanted to disappear forever. What had he done? how could he ever face (Y/N) after what happened? And what if Morgan had already told everyone what happened? of course he had, Reid thought, and his red cheeks were now purple. 

Humiliation was written across his face and his stomach tightened as he set foot into the bullpen. He took a quick look around and sighed relieved. Apparently, there was no one else there yet, the whole place seemed empty, although there was a fresh cup of coffee with extra sugar on his desk, a grilled cheese sandwich, and a chocolate frosted donut with sprinkles. 

That could only mean one thing. 

- “Hey, how are you feeling this morning?”- Spencer froze in panic and turned around very, very slowly. His heart was beating so fast, he was sure (Y/N) could listen to it. She was waving at him with a shy smile on her face. She didn’t look mad, or uncomfortable. She looked… worried. 

- “H… he… hey, (Y/N)-” he stuttered and waved. He knew he had to say something- anything- but nothing seemed to come to mind. He was literally speechless. 

- “How are you feeling?”

- “G… g… good, I’m good, I’m ok”- Spencer wanted to slap himself. He was humiliated already, but his behavior wasn’t making it any better. He had to put his shit together somehow.

- “I’m glad”- she sighed relieved, rubbing his arm sweetly, and her touch made him shiver right away. He tried to smile at her, but he was left speechless again. It was a painful scene to see. 

- “I was worried sick, you didn’t pick up your phone earlier”- Reid just nodded and looked down.

- “I got you the best recipe to cure your hangover, coffee of course, and I filled half the cup with sugar, just the way you like it”- the way (Y/N) stuck out her tongue and giggled, hypnotized him.

- “I made you a grilled cheese sandwich, I don't know how many times you've woken up feeling like shit after a party, but I'm pretty sure I’ve got a lot more experience than you, and greasy food always helps me coming back to life.”

Spencer nodded, trying to follow the conversation, but his brain was still malfunctioning and his head was pounding sharp and heavy. 

- “And your favorite donut 'cos you need extra sugar”

- “Thanks”- his voice was a sweet whisper. (Y/N) looked at him worried and rubbed a hand on his arm gently again.

- “Are you gonna tell me what the fuck happened last night?”- the painful grimace on Spencer's face was enough.

- “I'm just worried something bad happened to you “

- “No, no, no”- he shook his head frenetically and regretted the movement immediately. His head was killing him- “I just couldn't handle my drinks, that's all.”

- “Are you sure?”- lying to profilers could be the hardest thing on earth.

- “Yeah, yeah”

- “Good, I was worried you were going to call in sick…”- there was a short silence between them, they just stared at each other and sighed. 

(Y/N) couldn’t stop thinking he had called her “Buttercup” and didn’t know how to ask him to do it again, and again, every day. And Reid had no idea what to do next. So he just said the first thing that came to mind.  

- “Did you know hangovers are estimated to cost $148 billion each year due to hangover individuals calling in sick to work or performing poorly on the job.”  

- “Pretty boy!!”

Derek’s voice walking over them made Spencer’s heart stop in fear, he just waved at his friend with his less expressive smile - the one (Y/N) called “frog face”- and just prayed to whatever god that might exist, that Morgan wouldn’t embarrass him more than he was already. 

- “How are you feeling today, kid?”

- “I’m ok, thanks” 

- “You are lucky there’s no case, yet”- Dr. Reid nodded and looked around, trying to find a way to run away from Morgan and (Y/N). 

- “Nice breakfast”

- “I thought he was going to need extra energy today”- the young woman smiled proudly- “And when are you going to explain to me what happened last night? why did you let him get that drunk?”

Morgan knew (Y/N) was going to be mad at him, so he just looked at Spencer and waited to see if he had made up any lie already 

- “I… I told you, I just couldn’t keep up with Derek”

- “Yeah”- his friend immediately supported his lie. Which wasn’t a complete lie- “I pushed Reid to drink at my pace, and I guess pretty boy ain’t ready to drink like a man.”

On a regular day, Spencer would have hated that last comment, ‘cos he was sick and tired of his friend treating him like a toddler. But under those circumstances, he just nodded and tried to stay calm. 

- “And why were you outside my house?” 

- “We were looking for a cab, started walking… and Reid remembered you live close to the bar”- Spencer’s eyes opened wide at those words- “And he wanted to stop by.”

- “No I didn’t”- Reid knew he would lose in a fight with Derek, but he was willing to give it a try and punch him if that successfully stopped him from talking.  

- “Kid, you were drunk, you don’t remember, but you wanted to stop by and see (Y/N)”- the girl looked at Reid and bit her lips

- “Is that so? you got drunk and started thinking of me?”

Spencer couldn’t speak. He felt his hands shaking, so he hid them in his pockets and tried to come up with anything, literally anything to say. But he had nothing.  

- “Yes, pretty boy wanted to see you…”- Morgan just smiled, tapped on Spencer’s back, and walked away chuckling. He knew Reid needed a push to open up to (Y/N). Maybe this was what he needed. 

- “Why did you think of me?”- (Y/N) was now intrigued and excited. Drunk Reid was a whole new side of her friend, and the fact he had dragged Derek to her house when he was intoxicated gave her a little hope. Maybe he liked her too, the way she was head over feet for him.

- “I…”- Spencer was chocking with words, he turned around, grabbed the coffee, and took a sip of it. 

- “You?”

- “I don’t remember”- disappointment was written all over (Y/N)’s face. They just stared. Spencer drank his coffee and the girl simply sighed. 

- “I see”- he could read there was something there, but he didn’t want to get his hopes high. He was sure (Y/N) could never feel the same way he did. Right?

- “Can I ask you something?”- he whispered- “Why didn’t you tell me about the dating website?”

Now (Y/N) was embarrassed. She couldn’t take her eyes from her friend’s as she kept thinking about what to say. How to lie? 

- “It wasn’t important, Prentiss forced me, I didn’t want to do it”- she simply confessed and smiled- “Why?” 

- “I don’t know, it was weird, I thought… well…”

- “You know I tell you everything important”- (Y/N) wanted to make sure Spencer understood that the date had meant nothing. 

- “And… are you planning to do it again?”

- “Never”- the smile on her lips was so honest, Spencer’s heart was relieved- “So, tomorrow’s Saturday, got any plan?”- those words, they were music for his ears. 

- “Actually, there is a Russian horror movie festival tomorrow night, they’ll be showing Solaris, Viy, and Lyumi”

- “Original Russian, I presume”

- “But this time I’m pretty sure there will be subtitles”- (Y/N) pouted disappointed.

- “Bummer, I like when you have to translate the whole movie for me”- and she meant it, having Reid whispering every word in her ear for two hours was the closest she had been to heaven in her entire life. The young doctor chuckled with a huge grin and turned to his desk again. 

- “Usually, translation doesn’t represent the intention behind the dialog…”- Reid was full of it and he knew it, but he had nothing to lose and lot to win- “So if you want, I can still whisper the English version for you”.

Those last words left his lips as quickly as possible, ‘cos he was embarrassed. 

- “Then it’s a date”- her smile was bigger than imagined when she turned around and started walking to her desk. 

Was it a date? why did she say that? Reid tried to stay cool and not overthink everything, but it was Reid, which meant it was hard, nearly impossible. Overthinking was his thing. 

He wanted to go out on a date with (Y/N), but… was that actually a date? what if he brought flowers for her and she didn’t mean “date” as a date but just as two friends going out together? that would be mortifying. 

(Y/N) didn’t know if Spencer had thought she wanted it to be a real date. She did, she just didn’t know if she was asking or if he had or… 

Yes, they were both excellent overthinkers. 

- “Hey, honey”- if she was already embarrassed and anxious about using the word “date”, she could always make it worst.

Spencer turned to look at her he took a bite of his sandwich. 

- “It was really sweet last night when you called me Buttercup”- Reid nearly choked. He had completely forgotten about it, and suddenly he felt the urge to run and hide. But he couldn’t even move. He couldn’t even swallow the food he was chewing 

- “You had never called me by a nickname before…”- she bit her lips and took a deep breath- “I loved it… in case you want to use it again.”

Spencer nodded and watched his best friend walk away to get herself a coffee. He could feel someone else’s eyes on him from across the office. Morgan winked at him and nodded. 

- “Nice, kid”

.

[wrenhyperfixates]

A Perfect Proposal

Pairing: Loki x reader Summary: In which you propose to Loki. Warnings: Did anyone order fluff? Well, here you go :) A/N: Sending love out into the world for anyone who needs it. If you’re feeling down on yourself and like no one will want you (as so many of us oft think) just remember your real life Loki isn’t as far away as you think :)

Tag List: @lucywrites02 @frostedgiant​ @lunarmoon8 @twhiddlestonsstuff @lokistan @lowkeyorlokificrecs @gaitwae @whatafuckingdumbass @castiels-majestic-wings @kozkaboi @cozy-the-overlord @birdgirl90 @myraiswack

Disclaimer: Gif not mine 

“I love you, dearest,” Loki said, placing a small kiss to your temple.

“I love you, too,” you replied. “I want to be with you for the rest of my life and every moment after.”

“I feel the same way.”

Unfortunately, for as much as he insisted that, Loki had yet to take the next step in your relationship. He’d been your boyfriend for nearly two years now, and you were both madly in love with the other. You honestly had no doubts about that at this point, but it was frustrating being stuck where you were, nonetheless. There wasn’t even anything wrong with your relationship, per se, but it had been the same thing for a while now. The problem was that you loved him so much, you wanted more. Marriage. You’d talked about it a while ago, and he seemed open to the idea, but he had yet to pop the question. With all the hints you’d been leaving recently, you thought he would have asked by now. There was nothing else you could do short of asking him yourself.

“That’s it,” you gasped, jumping up from the couch. “Sorry, Loki. I gotta go. I’ll see you later, ok?”

You gave him a quick peck on the cheek before hurrying off to find your friends, leaving a very confused god in your wake. Zooming into another common room, you found them locked in concentration on an intense game of MarioKart.

“Bucky, Wanda, Nat. Important announcement,” you said to get their attention.

“One second,” Bucky shushed. “I’m about to win.”

“In your dreams,” Wanda snickered.

You impatiently tapped your foot as you let them finish the final lap, about ready to burst with excitement from your idea. Bucky and Wanda both groaned as Nat snatched the win at the last second.

“And that is how it’s done,” she said high-fiving you. “Now, what’s the emergency?”

“I’m going to propose to Loki.”

Wanda squealed in excitement and threw her arms around you in a hug. “That’s awesome! I’m proud of you!”

“Thanks, but before I can go through with this, I’m going to need a ring.”

And so, your little band of friends snuck out of the Tower and headed to a jewelry shop in the city. You were marveling at all the beautiful bands, as your friends argued over which one would be best. They all had different ideas about what you should get, though you didn’t really have a clue yourself. You were sure you would know it when you saw it.

“I’m telling you, this is the best one,” Bucky insisted, holding up an antique ring.

“Are you crazy? It’s so worn. No offense, but who would want that one?” Nat said.

“Steve would like it,” he murmured.

“How about this one?” Wanda called.

She pointed to a slim, ebony black band in the display case. It was understated, yet pretty. You considered the shiny trinket for a moment. It seemed like something Loki would like, and yet it wasn’t quite right. Continuing to walk through the store and take in the countless options, something in your peripheral vision caught your attention. Your head snapped back to it, and you let out an audible gasp.

“This is the one,” you declared.

Your friends came rushing over to see. The ring was fashioned as a gold, double-headed snake with emeralds as eyes. Far from a typical engagement ring, but you and your boyfriend weren’t much for conventional.

“We’ll take it,” you told the chipper store clerk.

To thank your friends for their help, you treated them to some coffee. As you sat in the cafe, you began to obsess over how to propose to Loki, though they insisted you were overthinking it. They were acting as if it were easy to speak from the heart. Then again, Loki was the love of your life, so maybe the right words would just flow out in the moment. Still, you’d like to have some kind of general outline.

Your planning was cut short by your ringtone, and you knew it must be Loki as he was the only one who bothered with calling anymore. Everyone else just texted, but he hadn’t quite figured out how to do that yet. You had to admit, his ineptitude with technology was kind of cute.

“Dearest, can you hear me?”  he asked. “Is this accursed magic box working?”

“Yes, my love,” you laughed. “It’s working just fine.”

“Very good. I was wondering if you would accompany me to dinner this evening. Say, 7:30, the balcony where we first met?”

“Absolutely.”

You remembered meeting Loki as if it had only just happened moments ago. You’d heard the stories of the monster he’d been at the Battle of New York, but standing there in the moonlight, he’d just looked fragile. You’d missed introductions earlier that day, having been on a mission, and approached with caution, careful not to rip him from his quiet reverie.

“Whatcha thinking about?” you’d asked softly, leaning next to him on the railing.

He’d looked slightly bewildered, whether because you snuck up on him or he didn’t know who you were, you still didn’t know.

“Nothing much, mortal,” he’d said.

“Well, that’s not very nice.”

“What?”

“Calling me ‘mortal.’”

“Well forgive me, but you did not introduce yourself,” he’d snapped back.

“Oh, well, yeah. Ok. I guess you’re right.”

You told him your name, and he said it softly, tasting the foreign word on his tongue. He tested it out a few times before coming to a conclusion.

“I like that name very much, mortal,” he teased.

“Haha very funny. How mature.”

Despite trying to sound angry, you couldn’t help but smile. You’d talked for a while after that and didn’t split up until the first light of morning began to fight through the darkness. Needless to say, you didn’t get much sleep, for even when you’d reached your room, your heart was pounding too wildly to allow you to slumber. You were too excited from meeting this handsome stranger. This god. Loki.

But that was then, and this was now. You walked out onto the balcony decorated with twinkle lights, candles, and your favorite flowers, the napkins and tablecloth your favorite color. You nervously checked to make sure you had the ring carefully tucked away one more time before going out to meet Loki in an embrace.

Throughout dinner, you mainly managed to keep your cool, but your leg would not stop bouncing with anxious energy. If Loki noticed, he didn’t say anything, though he did appear to be a little nervous himself, what with the constant fidgeting of hands and all.

Waving away your empty dishes with a flick of his hands, he began asking what you would like for dessert, but your mind was already far away. You jumped a little at the sound of Loki’s voice.

“I’m sorry, what was that again?” you asked, snapping back to the moment.

“Dearest, are you feeling alright?” he questioned, voice laced with concern. “You seem worried.”

“No, I’m fine,” you said as he raised an unconvinced eyebrow. It was now or never. “But I have something to say.”

“By all means, please share.”

“Ok,” you began, sucking in a sharp, anxious breath. “As you know, we’ve been dating for some time now, and I love you more than anything in this world. Even when we fight, that doesn’t change. Every moment I spend with you, I feel loved. Safe. Happy. You’ve been there for me in ways no one else in this world has. From the moment we met, something was screaming in my mind, ‘This is the one.’ It hasn’t stopped saying it since. I want to be with you, be there for you, for the rest of my life. Loki, my heart, my love, the light of my life, will you marry me?”

You got down onto one knee and popped open the ring box for a very stunned Loki. You gulped nervously as he seemed to regain his senses.

“Well, this is awkward,” he said. Your mind immediately jumped to worst-case scenario, assuming he was about to break up with you, but before you could speak your fears, Loki was also down on one knee, also opening a box. “I was just about to say the same thing.”

Now it was your turn to be stunned. You’d truly thought he was too hard on himself to ever actually ask for your hand in marriage, and you were elated that he loved you enough to work past that.

“In case the answer wasn’t obvious, yes. Yes with my whole heart!” you exclaimed, launching yourself into his arms.

Pulling back from him, you kissed him passionately. You slipped his ring onto his finger, and he did the same for you. It was exactly what you’d always hoped your engagement ring would look like. You beamed at Loki, completely happy.

“I love you, dearest,” he said.

“I love you, too. I can’t wait to be with you for the rest of my life.”

“And every moment after.”

[mbti-notes]

Anon wrote: INFP with social anxiety here. I have a therapist but we're focusing on some other issues right now. In the meantime, I was wondering if you had some advice for me. I know you're not a professional (you say that multiple times in your posts) and of course I'm not asking you for a fix for my social anxiety with this - I'm just asking your help to understand what part my cognition could be playing in all of this cause I'm really curious.

Basically, my problem is the time frame right BEFORE I meet someone and, sometimes, immediately after. I don't really have problems socializing in the "middle", if you get what I mean; I'm easily adaptable and once I'm relaxed, once I realize no one is there to attack me, my mind starts getting ideas and I kind of know what to say, even though I'm a bit out of practice and I still have problems convincing other people of my emotions (like, mirroring their emotions so that they know I agree with them and stuff like that; for some reason they never ---believe me when I say it with words).

When I make plans, anyway, and I still haven't met the person, I get this anxiety: like I would rather stay home than go there because it's going to be "boring" and I'm probably going to feel like an idiot or make some sort of social gaffe. I mean, I do kinda get bored after a while anyway, but I also know I tend to overestimate that level of "future boredom" to the point it hurts me to even think about showing up and forcing myself to think of stuff I can-- say.

I get anxious because I start thinking about the way people used to treat me in the past (I've always been the black sheep of my family and/or my social circles and I vividly remember some bad things they used to say to me) and I start worrying that, deep down, they still think of me like that and they're never going to forget that "preconception of my identity" and open their eyes to who I am now, or I guess to who I've always been.

I do realize it doesn't make much sense, this "who I ----really am" part - but I've always had the impression that I was a bit different than the "me" they percieved, maybe because after many, many years of being accused of "selfishness" and "inability to tune in with the emotional atmosphere" I learned that in order not to ruin the "social mood" I should've adapted myself to the group - but the problems is that I suppressed "myself" in the meantime (and with myself I mean, like, my real interests, the things I'd like to talk about for ages without-- having to be interrupted or looked down on because, quote unquote, "ok, cool, but we don't really care").

I understand now that if they don't give me hints of actually caring about the subject I should stop rambling like a fool, but this is making me feel like I have nothing "useful" to offer them and therefore bringing the anxiety I'm struggling with. It makes me scared that I'll never be able to be myself around them because of the "social rules" I want to respect to be accepted, & to make----it worse I'm out of practice like I said before and sometimes it just gets too awkward and I want to get out of there.

I bet I'm doing something wrong because friendships and relationships in general are not supposed to be "boring", am I right? And yet until I don't get distracted by the actual conversation, I feel like it's going to be really boring and uncomfortable and sometimes going through it is SO horrible... most of the time I end up making up some excuse to go home earlier and talk----my internet friends instead (thank God for the internet!!!!). Anyway, thank you if you'll answer! And have a good summer vacation c:

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

The first thing I notice is that your thought process bears a very striking resemblance to many INFJs who struggle with social anxiety due to poor Fe development (see past posts). As a general rule, if I have good reason to suspect that someone might be mistyped, I won't provide info about function development until they undergo a proper type assessment. Otherwise, they might adopt the wrong method of improvement.

You say you want to understand what part your cognition plays in the social anxiety you experience, so I will mention the aspects of your cognition that seem most significant:

1) No Chill: You overthink things to an extreme, to the point of self-sabotage, perhaps even creating a self-fulfilling prophecy (i.e. when expecting the negative actually makes the negative happen). Overthinking means that you're not confronting the real obstacle getting in the way of your socializing. You're constantly trying to envision, imagine, or predict what will happen in a social interaction? WHY? What's the point of that overthinking? It's how you avoid confronting your fear head on.

2) Insecure: Your "predictions" are too often faulty because of being tainted by your underlying insecurities. You're insecure about being attacked, being accused, being misjudged, doing something wrong, being deemed of no value or unworthy of care, not being accepted or acceptable, dying of awkwardness, feeling bored, feeling uncomfortable, and on and on. You've described your thought process in detail. But nowhere do I see you confronting your insecurities, digging deeper into them, in order to understand the root of them. Insecurities are a manifestation of fear.

3) Control: Irrational anxiety is oftentimes about trying to control things that you shouldn't be trying to control or cannot have any control over - it wastes mental energy and leads to futile behavior. As long as you're trying to control social situations and their outcome, you are either trying too hard to make reality match up with your expectations or you're fumbling whenever reality unfolds outside of your expectations - you become rigid and frail. You claim to be "adaptable" but everything you say after that only proves you don't know the meaning of the word. You can't handle unpredictability, hence, the attempt to be in control by trying to "predict" everything. Do your attempts to control actually work? Do they help or hinder you? If they mostly hinder you, then isn't it time to change your strategy? Anxious people often believe that having more knowledge or control is the answer to their fear. But, in your case, the huge cost of being controlling is being incompetent. What's worse, the fear is still right there running the show.

4) Unresolved Trauma: You attribute your troubles to your past. Fair enough. Growing up in a social environment that did not respect and appreciate you is painful, even extremely traumatic for certain personality types. It also makes people too hungry for validation. It's natural that you wouldn't want to feel the pain of it again. However, if that pain remains unexamined and unresolved, you will unconsciously keep seeking to resolve it, which means re-enacting the trauma over and over again throughout life. The proof? Every time you meet someone, your first stance is defensive, because the first thing that comes into your mind is that you don't want to be attacked or invalidated. That old pain is running the whole show because you are deeply afraid of experiencing it again, yet you don't realize that YOU are the one calling it back up and rehashing it. What are you doing to resolve the pain rather than indulge the fear?

5) Self-absorbed: Social anxiety makes people too absorbed in their own thoughts, feelings, hopes, and expectations. They are too preoccupied with what they want, what will happen, how they will be perceived, how they might make a mistake, how they might be attacked, etc. This means they're not truly present with people, so the relationship can't really go far. Driven by fear and insecurity, they are always behind a wall, too difficult to reach.

Even if you happen to meet the right people, do you make it easy for them to befriend you? It seems that you can't open up with ease, you can't go with the flow of the other person when they don't live up to your expectations, you can't keep your emotions in check and misjudge situations, you get bored when it's not about you, you run away instead of making things better. Looking at yourself objectively from the outside, would you want to be friends with someone like that?

If you want to have good friends, you first have to BE a good friend. You want care, love, and validation? We all do. The best way to receive it is to be the first to give it. By being more aware of other people's needs and doing more to show that you care about them, you put them in a better position to care about you and meet your needs in return. This is the difference between actively trying to "make" a friend vs passively wishing for a friend to drop into your lap.

Being a friend isn't about what "value" you have, as though you're some kind of object being appraised and sold. Being a good friend is quite a simple matter of putting out the energy to care and show that you care. When you meet someone who's moved by your care, they will care for you in return. When you meet someone who's unmoved by your care, figure out the real reason why, in order to determine whether you should keep trying or put your energy elsewhere.

You never really know who you'll hit it off with. One of my favorite experiences in life is making a friend in the unlikeliest of places. As an adult, meeting new people is a numbers game. All you can do is keep pushing yourself to meet new people. The more people you meet, the greater the odds of clicking with someone. If you're looking to meet like-minded people, go to places that are likely to have people who share your interests. If you don't hit it off with someone, simply move along. You don't have to be friends with everyone, do you?

Yet, you take every little social interaction so seriously that each step is like life or death - that's what makes socializing tiring, laborious, and unfun. Why not enter into every social interaction with an open mind and an open heart? Why not truly go with the flow, without having to undergo the repetitive ritual of predicting what will happen or fussing over what did happen?

6) Poor Emotional Intelligence: This point is the common thread that runs through the previous points, which is why I keep repeating the word "fear". You have extremely low tolerance for negative feelings and emotions, which means you really need to work on learning how to deal with your emotional life better. Any little sign that things won't turn out the way you want and you start to panic, overthink, blame, or flee. Why do you recoil from yourself and your own feelings and emotions? Why are you so easily shaken by boredom, awkwardness, invalidation, failing, other people's negativity, etc? Why do you react so badly to these things (when others just brush it off and keep going)?

7) Low Self-Awareness: It's not enough to just name the fear ("I'm afraid of____"). Does the label explain why you have this particular fear and not some other fear? It's not enough to blame the past ("It's because of ____"). Why did someone else with a similar past as yours not develop this fear? To get to the root of fear, you have to identify, in exact terms:

what aspect of you has to change to overcome the fear

what aspect of your identity has to "die" (i.e. be let go of) in order to evaporate the fear

Until you answer the fear properly, it won't go away.

[rattyoakenbitch]

Hello, I love your writing so much that I'm calling the police because of the unlawful amount of talent you have :))

I hope that youre doing well ❤️

I was wondering if I could please get will graham x reader?

✨Prompt✨ ~ one shot please

☄️Details☄️ ~ reader has a bad panic attack and shuts down and holds their breath until they end up losing consciousness.

🌨️Pronouns🌨️ ~ female reader please

🪐 alternate ask just in case you don't feel comfy with writing anxiety/panic attacks🪐 ~ will with sleepy reader who tries to make sure that everyone is happy and works hard for that?

🌌 message🌌 ~ thank you so much and I hope you have a great day ! don't forget that you are amazing and appreciated !

DUDE I LOVE YOU OMG (ok but like i literally squealed out loud 😭😭💔)

thank u so much for this!! u dont know how much i love doing requests. i hope u enjoy this as much as i did!

pairings: will graham x fem reader

warnings: panic attacks, angst, themes of depression, self doubt, passing out, very very very brief mention of suicide, brief mentions of cheating (sorry that's a lot omg). not warnings but theres eventual fluff and aftercare!!!

You sat down on the front porch cross-legged, watching as the sun came up over the hills, emitting an orange glow across the dark blue sky. Usually you'd still be in bed at this hour, but you haven't been able to catch any sleep lately. It's either you sleep all day or not at all.

Of course, not that you really minded. You loved watching the sunrise, the beginning of another day. It seemed so promising and motivating, yet it was bittersweet for you. Because it was another day of what felt like failure.

Another day where you'd rather not be alive.

Not that you were suicidal. Oh, not at all. You could never bring yourself to take a life, especially your own. But you couldn't help but fantasize about how happy everyone would be if you never existed. If you didn't take up so much damn space and waste people's time.

Your heartbeat began to speed up as several thoughts of self doubt and loathing began to fill up your head all at once.

You groaned and buried your face into your knees, covering your ears as if it would make the thoughts go away.

You spent a bit of more time on the porch, lost in your thoughts, barely keeping track of time, when a cold breeze snapped you back to reality.

You weren't wearing much, only a pair of lounge shorts, a sports bra, and one of Will's many flannels.

You grabbed the buttons of your flannel, wrapping it tightly around your figure in an attempt to keep warm. Ultimately you head inside anyways.

Coincidentally, you just caught Will about to leave.

"You're leaving already?"

You raised your brows, watching Will with suspicion.

"Yeah, I'm sorry. Jack called, he wants me in right now."

"He say why?"

"Look, I don't know. I gotta go," Will said, more hurridley this time.

You pursed your lips. "Right. Sorry.."

Before you could say your goodbyes, Will was already out the door. You stood in the center of the room awkwardly, not knowing where to start from here.

You ended up taking the dogs out to walk, who seemed to enjoy it more than you did. Your mind was elsewhere.

As you carried on with your mundane every day tasks, your last interaction with Will stayed in your mind as you overanalyzed every aspect of the conversation.

He didn't even say a proper goodbye.. Or an "I love you".

What if he was getting tired of you? What if he found another woman? Was that why he left so early? Did he have a girl on the side?

All these thoughts ran through your head, and soon enough, you started to analyze your whole relationship with Will.

What did you do? Was he mad? Where did it go wrong? Did it even go wrong? Are you just being crazy? Maybe this is why he wanted to leave. He's already got enough to deal with, why would he want to put up with your problems, now?

This is all your fault.

All your fault.

All.

Your.

Fault.

You felt your breathing started to pick up, as well as your heartbeat. You fell onto your knees on the hardwood floor, digging your fingers into your own hair as you gripped tightly, like you'd lose yourself if you let go.

Your whole body trembled with fear and anxiety, the thoughts never once stopping, only seeming to intensify as your heartbeat got louder in your ears.

So loud, you almost didn't hear the front door open, or your name being called.

"Y/N!"

Your eyes shot up from the floor to Will who rushed by your side, obviously freaked out.

"Y/N, what happened? Are you hurt? Talk to me, baby, please."

Your words seemed to get caught in your throat, the only sound leaving your mouth being faint whimpers and strained cries.

After Will quickly searched for any injuries, he concluded you were having a panic attack.

"Y/N," he put his hand on your chest, "I need you to breathe for me, okay? Breathe."

You shook your head, squeezing your eyes shut. "I can't. Oh, gods. I feel like I'm going to die. Please, I don't want to die."

Will took your hand in his, squeezing it tightly. "I'm right here, Y/N. You're not going to die. You hear me? You'll be okay."

As he continued on assuring you, his voice seemed to become fainter and fainter, as if he was far away.

Your vision became dizzy, your surroundings all a blur. You tried to focus on Will as he spoke to you, desperately trying to calm you down. But his words were completely drowned out by the sound of your panting and beating heart, before it all went black.

Slowly, your eyelids fluttered open. They felt incredibly heavy, but you managed to stay awake.

You were no longer on the floor. Instead, you were wrapped in soft, plush sheets that hugged your exhausted body.

You remembered now. You passed out in Will's arms while you had a panic attack. It only made sense, you thought, considering you hadn't had sleep in days.

Still laying down, you inspected your surroundings, your eyes falling on the curly haired man below you who also laid down, his arms securely wrapped around your lower half.

He must have felt you stirring as he began to wake up as well.

You smiled to yourself as you reached down to tangle your fingers in his curls, massaging his head while doing so.

"Y/N?"

"Hey.." you rasped, your throat raw from hyperventilating.

"How are you feeling?" He didn't give you a chance to reply as he continued. "I thought you may have actually died at first, but when you seemed alright, I took you back to rest here."

"Thank you, Will." You cleared your throat, "Can I get some water, please?"

"Of course. I'll be right back, okay?"

Will leaned in to kiss you on the forehead before heading to the kitchen to get a glass. You sat up when he came back, also noticing he brought a hairbrush as well. He sat behind you while you drank, hugging you, caressing your body gently as if you were made out of glass.

"Do you want to talk about it?"

Usually you would decline, but you hesitantly nodded your head.

Will pulled away and ran the hairbrush through your tangled strands of hair as you spoke, gently undoing the knots and being careful not to hurt your scalp.

"I've been overthinking a lot.. About every day life. Who I am. Us.." He let you continue. "I thought you were mad at me this morning and I couldn't let it go.. Then I began to think you were getting tired of me and.." You sighed. "You're such a good man, Will Graham. And you have a lot on your plate. I hated to think I was making your life even more difficult..." You trailed off, awaiting his response.

But he remained silent, he even stopped brushing your hair.

The air felt tense. And you needed to apologize quickly.

"I- I'm sorry you had to deal with that," you whispered. "With me."

"Why are you sorry, my love?" he spoke softly, his voice holding no tone of resent or hate. He embraced you from behind, his chin resting on your shoulder as he whispered into your ears, now and then placing warm kisses on your neck & shoulder. "You've done nothing wrong. You're just as perfect as you were the day I laid eyes on you. You still make me feel the way I did when we first kissed, or when you first told me you loved me." You felt your heart ache at Will's loving words.

"Will.."

"It hurts to see you hurting like this, because I love you, Y/N. Even on days when you don't love yourself."

Will placed a finger under your chin, tilting your face towards him. He watched your face with adoration, his eyes never once leaving your glossy doll-like ones. You felt blush creep up on your cheeks as Will spoke, his hot breath fanning your face. "I always did think you were the most beautiful girl in the world." With that, he leaned in to lock his lips with yours, as if to prove his love for you. And you believed it.

[hellfire-menace]

San leaves his AU

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

San is laying on his couch, watching one of his favorite TV series, but he can't really focus on it.

There was the signiture loud crackle of Sci's portal opening up followed by a knock at San's door not long after.

San got up and opened the door for Sci, "Hey . . ."

"Hey! Woah, you ok there bud? you're lookin a little rough tibia honest." Sci half heartedly chuckles, looking more concerned than anything.

"Yeah, yeah . . . Just didn't really sleep right . . ."

Sci frowned. "What's up?"

"Just feel nervous I guess . . . Overthinking some things a bit . . ."

"You wanna talk about it? ... And do you mind if i come in"

"yeah . . . Uh come in . . ." San let him inside. Sci nods gratefully and steps in. San closed the door behind him and sat down on the couch. Sci joined San on the couch and faced his friend, worry etched into his features.

"So what's eating you?"

"I'm just nervous that I'll see him again . . . I literally avoid going to my brother because he lives near there . . . Like he could be anywhere and i don't want to see him, it's honestly destroying me . . . Like this constant fear and stress . . . It doesn't let me sleep sometimes . . ." San sighed "Nothing here brings me happiness anymore, only our little meetings . . ."

"Oh geeze... I'm sorry... I didn't know you were having such a hard time." Sci reached out to pat San but quickly retracted his hand. He wanted to comfort him but didn't wish to trigger his sensitivities with being touched.

"it's okay i guess . . . Just have to get over this . . ."

Sci sat in silence with his hand folded in his lap.

"Honestly i wish i could just leave . . . Just for a while, take a break from this life . . ." San wrapped his arms around himself.

"I mean... you could? If you wanted you could come stay with me for a little while." Sci started sounding a little excited as he spoke. "I really wouldn't mind, and I could show you my lab." He twiddled his thumbs in his lap, looking at San with a very faint blush on his face.

"r-really? I could?" San' tone of voice is a bit excited too, he seems happy at this proposition.

"Well yeah! ...I mean, but there are some risks involved...." Sci tugged on his shirt collar.

"Like if this universe was to RESET you could get erased from the code... or there is a very small potential when traveling to get stuck in the anti-void between universes. I haven't had that happen yet... but some of the spiders that volunteered for the time that went wrong... when i managed to bring them back they'd... changed... I'm not trying to spook you though! I'm sorry, I just figure you ought to know what you're potentially getting into." Sci chuckled nervously.

San nodded slightly, he thinks for a moment, before looking at Sci, "I want to do it"

Sci's face broke into a big grin. "Oh hell yeah!" Sci looked jittery with excitement. "I haven't brought anyone back with me before! This is going to be so fun! and oh... the data I could collect from this!"

San is smiling at him, he seems happier now.

"Ok um... So! When do you wanna leave? I assume you'll wanna grab some things before we go..."

"y-yeah, uh . . . I should take some clothes, right?"

Sci chuckled, "That would definitely be a good idea. Think anything you'd take on a vacation. Here, I can even help you pack!" Sci jumped up from the couch and held a hand out to San to help him stand.

San hesitantly grabbed his hand and stood up, "you can help me if you really want"

Between the two, packing went by quickly and they both were standing outside of San's house within half an hour. San with bags in hand and Sci fiddling with his portal device, hands shaking lightly in excitement.

"You ready?" He flashes a wide grin at San.

"yeah!"

"Perhaps you would like to do the honors then?" Sci held out the device and made a grand gesture to the button that needed pushing.

San looked at Sci then pushed the button.

There was a whir and a crackle of a portal trying to start but it quickly fizzled out, leaving the two looking on in dead silence.

"Heh... T-This doesn't usually happen i swear." Sci chuckled nervously. He smacked the side of the device a couple times and pressed the button again, a portal springing to life solidly before them.

"so see you on the other side?" San is still looking at Sci.

"Hold up." Sci holds out a hand as if to stop San and kicks a rock through the portal, watching it with narrowed sockets for a second.

"Ahhhh ok yeah we're good let's go." He picks up some of San's belongings, smiles at him, and confidently walks through the portal.

San picks up the rest of his things and goes after Sci through the portal.

On the other side of the portal Sci's setting San's things on a table in a large brightly lit laboratory.

It's cluttered but organized, everything separated in respective groups. And the air was filled with the sound of machinery whirring.

Some of them were plain and boxy with flashing and blinking lights and some of tem were foreboding and alien looking and along one wall several were printing out a nonstop stream of information on paper that was neatly folding itself into piles.

"wow . . ." San is looking around, clearly amazed by what he's seeing.

Sci turns around and looks at San. "Heh yeah there's alot going on huh? Sorry it's kinda a mess right now though... I wasn't expecting company." Sci rubs the back of his skull bashfully.

"it's . . . it's amazing! this is your lab? Like seriously it's amazing" San is excited.

"Yeah, I-I mean, yeah! Thanks!" Sci chuckled, a light blush dusting his cheeks. "It is pretty cool isn't it? Want me to show you around?"

"yeah!"

"Sweet! You can just set your stuff over there... or wherever here lemme show you the most dangerous one first!!!" Sci's grin took on a slight manic edge to it in his excitement.

San put down his things and came closer to Sci.

Sci's standing by a large dark looking piece of machinery with a nozzle pointed directly into a dusty looking glass case He flicks a few switches and it whirs to life, making a loud grinding noise.

"This is a disintegrator ray! Watch this." Sci pulls out a heavy thick board and places it in the glass case with an apple and shuts the door. He looks to San to watch for his reaction and pushes the button.

The surface of the apple bubbles for a split second before imploding violently and leaving a dusty scorched indent in the board.

"No matter, physical or magical can withstand it's force!" Sci flicks it's switch off, halting the grinding noise emanating from it.

"This could kill everyone in this multiverse if it were to explode!" He said excitedly.

"wow . . ." San is clearly impressed.

"Heh yeah, right? Pretty sweet." Sci chuckled. "Let me know if you wanna try putting anything in there."

"okay" San is smiling slightly, He's clearly happy.

"And this one?" Sci bounds over to a plain looking yellow metal box with a simple red button on top. "I got super wasted one night and made it for shits and giggles. All it does is turn anything you put inside it blue for 48 hours. Probably the least dangerous thing here." Sci smiles at it fondly. "It's so dumb and pointless. I love it."

San chuckled, "sounds like fun"

Sci did this for a while, leading San around the lab, showing off different machinery, telling him all about what everything did until he got to the machinery along the back wall printing nonstop. "And these monitor the au's I've visited!"

"Oh, what do they monitor exactly?"

"The timelines, resets, fun value, number of souls in an au... how many people are takin a shit at any given moment." Sci chuckles. "Nah I'm just messin with you on that last one. It's mostly just basic stats and statistics."

San chuckled, "seems interesting"

"Heh well I think it is at least." Sci watches the machine pumping out information for a moment before turning back to San. "But, yeah... this is my lab."

"it's really amazing, how you thought of so many things, how you built them and they actually work" San is still amazed by everything he saw, He's smiling softly.

Sci blushed. "Thanks... ya really think so?"

"yeah! It's just so cool!"

Sci's face lights up even further at the complement. "Heheh thanks. I suppose you wouldn't mind helping me in here a little bit later then?"

"I wouldn't, honestly I would be glad to help you" San is blushing slightly.

"Cool. Cool. Uhmm cool. Heh sorry I'm done saying cool." Sci chuckled nervously.

San chuckled too, "so what now?"

"Well we-" Sci starts to walk towards the table of San's belongings and stumbled, tripping over his own feet.

San caught Sci, "are you okay?" His voice sounds worried.

Sci looked up at San eyes wide and his cheekbones lighting up brightly. "Ye-yeah. Heheh... I'm just falling for you." His mouth clacked shut as soon as soon as he realized he said the flirtatious pun out loud.

"I-I mean-" Sci stammered nervously.

San blushed too, an orange blush dusting his cheekbones, "I . . . i-it's okay, g-great that you're n-not hurt"

"Thanks." Sci's soul pounded in his chest... This was probably the closest he'd been to San ever... What with his haphephobia... His haphephobia!

"Oh! I'm sorry I can stand!" Sci scrambled to stand and rather clumsily got to his feet, brushing the wrinkles from his lab coat.

San nodded slightly, watching Sci to make sure that everything is okay.

"Well as I was saying we could go get you settled in for your stay." Sci continued to nervously adjust his lab coat.

"Sure"

[ri-ahhh]

if you ever get in the mood to write anything take it back part two would be lovely😉 only if you’re okay with it of course

Y’all the sheer amount of requests I’ve gotten for this..🤯 Idk what exactly you want because it felt pretty complete to me but you win lol here it is.

take it back: pt. 2

***

He’s always an early riser. You love that about him. Productive and motivated almost to a fault, Grayson Dolan can always be counted on to answer his phone at the ripe time of 7:45 AM.

So when your 8:13 AM call goes to voicemail, your stomach drops.

Granted, it did ring all the way through; he could be sleeping, or working out, or...busy.

But he always manages to answer for you. Even if he’s huffing for breath in-between sets, or barely cognizant of where he is or what time it is after an afternoon nap, you can usually count on his deep voice to be on the other line of that phone.

You feel incredibly vulnerable and somehow more exposed than ever as you lie naked under your covers, just as you were when he left a few hours ago. A gaping part of you left in the open with his potential rejection. Just as you had probably done to him in the early hours of the morning.

Your heart joins your stomach, and you can’t stop yourself from typing out a text to cover yourself.

Did you make it home ok?

You toss your phone with a frustrated sigh to the side of the bed and draw your covers up to your nose. The empty space is vast and cold and makes your throat tighten.

Your phone buzzes, and you snatch it up. A snap from your best friend.

Instagram notifications.

A ‘good morning, have a good day’ text from your mom.

Another Snapchat. A work email. More texts from people who don’t have a little strong arm emoji next to their name.

You’re about to try and pull some sort of reverse psychology bullshit on yourself and go take a shower and pretend like you’re not going to expect a reply from him by the time you get out. But then, just as you’ve tossed your blankets and sheets aside, your phone buzzes fatefully.

[Gray💪🏼] Yeah, thanks

Ironically enough, it’s the worst reply you could have hoped for even though it’s the most logical one.

You bite your lip, chewing it worriedly as you continue your trip to the bathroom. Despite the fact that he responded completely appropriately, you don’t think you’re imagining the dryness in his two words. As stupid and ridiculous as it seems, you know Grayson well enough to detect that.

Good.

Are you busy today?

That’s safe enough. Your surge of bravery has dissipated since he clearly chose to ignore your call in favor of texting. You don’t want to scare him with anything as heavy and loaded as “can we talk?”

You lean against the counter and watch the bubbles pop up on the screen.

[Gray💪🏼] Nah not really. I’m tired tho

Fuck. The rejection before the offer hurts. Your eyes prickle stubbornly.

But then you look in the mirror, and your focus is drawn to a couple of distinct purple marks on your collarbone. You finger them delicately, and rather than the annoyance you might have felt with anyone else, your heart warms.

He’s broken yet another rule. And now, so are you — excited and pleased by the evidence of himself he’s left on your skin.

And you remember the thought that prompted this whole thing to begin with. You’re scared, but it’s worth it. He’s worth it.

Your fingers fly. Can I come over? Please?

He takes long enough to reply that your phone screen goes black, and another minute passes before you realize how idiotic you must look standing naked in your bathroom staring at a blank screen. This is the shit about relationships that you don’t like: the fear, the games, the unknowns. It’s almost too much already.

You distract yourself by turning on the shower and adjusting the temperature right where you want it. And when you turn back around, blood pounds in your ears when you see the lit screen through the reflection of the mirror.

[Gray💪🏼] Okay

***

If you’ve ever taken a quicker shower, you don’t remember when. You rinsed the night off for good, barely detangling any knots from your hair before instinctively reaching for one of his sweatshirts to pair with your jean shorts without even realizing it. It hits you as you throw on some eyebrow gel and mascara where your top came from, and you debate taking it off in case he’s upset with you.

You wouldn’t blame him if he were. The mixed signals you had thrown at him last night were inconsiderate to say the least. Blowing him off only to run right back into his arms, but with more clarity to be fair to yourself just a little bit.

You toss your lip gloss on the counter before you can do what you do best and overthink every aspect of this man, and head straight out the door.

When he lets you into his house half an hour later, he looks hesitant and drawn, but not unkind. Flushed fresh from a workout. Muscles glistening familiarly. Hair flopping into his face. It’s all incredibly distracting, but you push those thoughts aside as you smile at him sheepishly and pass through the open door.

“What’s up?” he asks once he’s led you into the kitchen.

You sit on a barstool and chew a piece of skin around your thumbnail as he watches you out of the corner of his eye while he chugs from his hydroflask. His Adam’s apple bobs with each swallow, and you look away for a moment to gather your nerve.

“I wanted to...talk,” you manage to spit out. You take your thumb out of your mouth in favor of playing with a leaf that had fallen from the flower vase in front of you. You can’t meet his eyes right now.

There’s a silence long enough that it makes you finally look up at him. He’s staring at you, brow cocked slightly, arms crossed across his broad chest.

“Okay. About what?”

You stare back. His handsome face gives you the confidence and courage to keep going.

“I’m bad at this,” you admit. The leaf crumples in your fingertips. “Talking. Relationships. All of it.”

“I know. So am I.”

You smile, small but grateful. He returns it.

“I told you to take it back. That kiss you gave me, before you left.”

Grayson’s cheeks, having returned to a normal hue in the AC, then pink again. He glances off to the side and clears his throat, a hand running through his messy hair. “Uh, yeah. I remember.”

Your heart disintegrates as much as the leaf in your grasp at the visible proof that you had, indeed, hurt him on some level. But you’re here to make it right. For both of you. In whatever ass-backwards way you can think of to make that happen, because you definitely haven’t thought the words out at all.

“Well... I want — I take it back,” you admit quietly.

The fear and frustration are all worth it when you see the utter look of surprise cross his features. His eyes are grey this morning, one of their many colors and your personal favorite, and they widen almost comically. His pretty pink lips part slightly, his fist clenching on the counter for a brief moment.

But then he has a few seconds to process your confession, and your heart skips a beat when you see the corner of his mouth turn up enough to expose a dimple. “You take back your ‘take it back?’”

You bite your lip through your own smile as his grows wider, and you nod. “Yeah. I do.”

“Why?”

You hadn’t expected that. But shockingly, it’s the easiest part of this whole ordeal.

You reach your hand out and wrap your slim fingers around his thick, calloused ones, gripping them tightly. “Because. You’re you. And I’m happiest when you’re around, no matter what activity we may or may not be doing.”

He laughs, and you tug on his hand to indicate you want him to join you without a slab of marble separating the two of you.

“And because you’re the only person I could ever imagine breaking all of my rules for. And if you can forgive me for being such a hardheaded idiot, I’d really like to prove that to you.”

Now directly in front of you, Grayson towers above you. He grins and lets go of your hand to wrap your arms around his waist, then cups your cheeks in both hands. You close your eyes and you sigh at the feel of those giant palms holding you so tenderly, and the urge to run doesn’t affect you even the tiniest bit.

He leans down, until you feel him stop just centimeters from meeting your lips with his. Your lashes flutter open confusedly, only to see those eyes looking at you with an affectionate expression you’ve never let yourself consider too deeply until now.

“If you really want to take back your take it back,” he whispers, his breath fanning against your sensitive lips and making you shiver, “then come and get it.”

Your whole body heats at his words, and you giggle before throwing yourself completely into his arms and crushing your lips together. He chuckles too against your mouth, and shifts his hands under your ass so you can wrap your legs around his waist, your kiss heated and sincere but also playful.

“Can I take all of you back?” you ask him once you’ve pulled away for a moment, playing with the hair at the base of his neck.

You’re so caught up in his face that you’re unaware that he’s moving the two of you down the hall until his bedroom door shuts quickly behind him with his swift kick.

“All of me, baby. All of me.”