#im doing it small steps at a time. still listening to my depression music and feeling bad but im sitting by the window and im trying and im

[casualnearenjoyer]

so apparently, all those people who say excercising and going outside improves your mental health might be right? I'm not well enough to overcome the depression to exercise, but sunlight helps. Even just sitting by a big window that the sun is shining through seems to work

all my other mentally unwell mutuals, go try sitting by a window or some of the simpler mental health advice

[writingoddess1125]

It seems like a great Morning for DEPRESSION!

You Pass Away Giving Birth

Buggy, Mihawk, Crocodile

⚠️Warning:⚠️ Depression, Death, Light gore, Character Death, Overall Saddness

Was listening to sad music and wrote this.

Buggy

There had been complications from the start- being pregnant with twins always had this.. and truthfully Buggy had wanted to curse himself when he learned that he had accidently done this to you. However you remained optimistic- even at the face of peril.

Buggy had hired so many doctors, wanting at least one of them to save you but it seemed that fate was too tightly wrapped around you.

"Y-You're going to be fine I promise (Y/N)-" Buggy said desperately as he sat next to you, watching you battle for the lives of the babies. Another sobbing scream leaving you as doctors rushed in and out with new tools, techniques and more to keep you Alive. However the growing pile of bloody towels and bowls was a clue it wasn't working.

Your mission wasn't to survive but to save the children. Giving Buggys hand a tight bone breaking squeeze you pushed with all your might- Buggy saying words of encouragement till two new lives were brought into this world and you slacked against the bed, pale as paper and your breathing getting shallow.

They rushed the babies to the side of the room as Buggy leaned over you in a panic. Rubbing the hair from your face as he spoke in a panic seeing you slipping away.

"You did it! N-Now Don't leave me please (Y/N)! I'm begging you p-please" He sobbed, but you looked up at him.. gave a gentle smile and worded 'love you' one final time before slipping away right under his fingers... He sobbed and continued his desperate plea for you as he pressed his face against your cold on.

A nurse pulling him back slightly as his world seemed to blur around him- realizing the panic noises of the staff was not for you but for the twins. He didn't even have to say anything as the staff grew quiet at the single newborn cry in the room, sorrowful looks in their eyes as they looked to Buggy. One child laying still on the cot while the other was brought to him.

"I-Im so sorry- Only one survived" The midwife said softly and placed the tiny bundle in his arms still not cleaned and just wrapped in a blanket. Buggy held the suiviving twin, his body feeling cold and chest hollow as he stared down at her beautiful face.. She was so small... so fragile.

He felt his body shake as broken sobs left him and all he could do was hold her close to him, sobbing at the same time the newborn wailed.

"I-Its okay Cry away" He managed to say as he sobbed, feeling it was better in this moment and only this moment to not cry alone. He rocked the both of them in a desperate need to feel comfort at losing the love of his life and one of his children in one night..

He only glanced up from sobbing when the doctor placed a fresh white sheet over you and the deceased child's body. Covering it from sight as the Captian grieved.

Buggy smoothed a shaky hand over the newborn as the Midwife stepped forward to clearn off the newborn and get her dressed. Buggy not even realizing or caring the baby was covered in blood and goo. The midwife was quick, dressing the little girl and handing Buggy a bottle.

The new father still in a whirlpool of sorrow starred to feed her, still crying as before but with a broken smile on his lips.

"I-Im sorry you got saddled with me little one.. It's just us now.. You and me against it all" He said softly trying to ease his crying as the newborn began to down the bottle.

"You look like your mother... I-Im so happy for that... we hadn't figured out names yet, S-So hopefully your mother won't curse me but What about Mei-Mei? Hm?..." He managed as he pulled the empty bottle from her, holding her to his chest and patting her back as he continued to sob.

"Y-Yeah..My little Mei Mei"

Mihawk

It was his fault... he should have stopped you- It was ment as a journey to find a doctor to assist in your soon to be delivery- Mihawk wanting to keep you behind but you insisted on coming along, but due to the enemies of the past it turned into a battle. Mihawk had been sure he had secured you in a safe place, away from the carnage but who would have known a young man barely out of his teens had spotted him and walked into the safe house with his gun raised and shot you-

He heard it, rushing back to slaughter the boy as he saw you laying there holding the wound to your chest and gasping for air.

Mihawk pressing against the wound to stop the bleeding but it was so close to your heart he was sure you grazed it. Your eyes widened as you touched his arm desperately tears flooding your gaze.

"S-Save them" You managed, Mihawk still pressing all the bullet wound on your chest before feeling your body go limp and heart stop right under his palm.

"No..." He growled, anger flooding his system as he was ready to burn this island to the ground- That was till your words rang in his ears and he placed his bloody palm on your stomach, Feeling the fluttering movement of his still alive child just before the surface. He knew what he had to do... Save them- Pulling the cross from his neck he uncapped it and took a shaky sigh.

"I-Im so sorry"

Mihawk felt for the first time his hands tremble, warm tears flooding his yellow eyes as he took a breath... he didn't have much time... Lifting the blade from his cross he struck down, cutting into your flesh as the warmth of your blood flooded his hands. Something he had never wanted to feel-

With care he cut through the corpse of your abdomen and to the womb- With skinned hands he pulled up his child and held them with care. Panic filling his eyes as he didn't hear a cry or them even move- Tossing the cross to the side he began to do cpr on the little girl, carefully forcing air into her lungs and trying to start her breathing.

"Please..." He whispered as he used three fingers to press on the little girls chest to start her heart, Before she coughed and began to wail into the night air. Mihawk sighing in relief and cutting the cord with his teeth unfortunately due to tossing the blade as he held the baby to his chest- Staring down at the gory mess that was you and he had to closed his eyes..

"I'm sorry (Y/N)..." He whispered both at having to disrespect your body even at your request.. and for you not being able to meet your guys daughter.

"... You were right.. a girl" He whispered, looking down finally at his child who was still crying- Shivering a bit from the cold so he took off his coat and wrapped her tightly in it.

"We will name here Meira.. the light of you" He whispered softly. He knew he needed to get his daughter medical attention but wasn't going to leave you like thisveither. So he buried you and placed all the flowers he could ontop of your makeshift grave- Walking away with his daughter in his arms to the closest village.

Crocodile

It had all been going to well- yet in a second it changed.. You had gone into labor just hours before and Crocodile knew what to expect some pain, screaming and other discomforts before you gave birth to a healthy baby. However this? The back to back complications that left you exhausted and You had started to bleed during it all and the nurses started to panic...

You were fighting so hard, Crocodile holding your hand as you struggled to bring his child into the world. While his face was stoic and solid you knew the panic behind his eyes.. his wife the only one he would allow close to his heart- and the doctors were scrambling around you to ease the birth.

However you knew... you left it.. and Crocodile did as well.

"C-Croc promise me... you will love them like you love me..I love you" You manage to whisper out, Crocodile nodding hesitantly in agreement to your shaky words whispered voice managing out a 'I love you too'.

A cry ripped through your throat as another wash of pain hit you. Doctors trying to slow down the bleeding- After a few more desperate moments the doctors pulled the screaming child from between your legs. However that wasn't even highlighted as they scrambled to keep you Alive-

Crocodile being pushed to the side as they started CPR but- he felt it... he saw that final breath leave you and thay light fade from your eyes...

His world felt like it crumbled then, a nurse escorting him out to the benches just outside the room. Truthfully he was too dazed to care- the image of you gone still burning in his eyes.

Crocodile sat there in what could only be a state of shock- His wife was gone... ripped away due to his blood. It didn't take long for a skittish nurse to step forward, holding a blue bundle in her arms.

"I-Im sorry sir... I know there is nothing I can say to-" He shot her glare. Forcing her to shut up as she nodded and instead stepped forward to show him the bundle. There laid a plump baby, Crocodile felt his heart clench- especially when he could see the perfect mix between you and him.. Slowly he reached an arm out and took the baby slowly.

He watched the newborn yawn and cuddled into his chest carefully for warmth, sucking hard on the blue pacifier in his mouth as he clearly dreamt of food.

"...You are fortunate.. I loved your mother more then I can dislike you for taking her away... and I promised her" He said calmly down to the baby, holding him close as he stared down at the boys features. His mind drifting to you laying in bed next to him rubbing oil on the stretch marks of your swollen belly talking about all the hope you had for your child and the future...

"Hope... hm.. In honor of your Mother- your name is Kibo.. her last shred of hope"

[athetos]

all multiples of 5, for the asks!

Ty anon I have 4 more hours of training at work done with a text to speech voice on why insider trading is bad so this is enrichment for my rotting brain

5. What made you start your blog? I used to scroll tumblr without a blog to look at stuff for fullmetal alchemist and the world ends with you then finally decided maybe I should make my own account so I could save everything I liked. I never had any social media before this point (I had a flip phone until my second semester of college and relied on a computer desktop until I got a laptop my senior year of high school) so this unfortunately imprinted me pretty heavily. It’s still the only social media I use beyond Twitter which is leagues worse.

10. Would you say you’re an emotional person? Very, I get very attached to and protective of people I love and have high empathy, not in a cringe terminally online way but a “actually part of a medical diagnosis” way. It takes a lot of effort to keep my emotions in check, but I’ve gotten better at stepping away from situations to examine if my reactions are warranted or not.

15. What do you think of when you hear the word home? Christmas Eve with my mom’s side of the family. Im not religious but my family celebrates and it’s one of the few times we can all come together and have fun. I love baking with them and ordering pizza and exchanging early gifts, listening to bad music, it’s really nice. I hope I can fly home for the holidays this year.

20. Favorite things about the night? It used to be taking my dog out so she could hunt around for frogs and salamanders, and I’d look for cool moths and the odd snake, but now that I’m in a city and she’s gone it’s mostly just having time to relax after a day of work and chores and playing games, reading, or talking to my friends. It’s decompressing times.

25. Fave season and why? Summer. I have seasonal depression so while I love the idea of autumn, I usually am moodier and the growing lack of daylight gets to me. I also have recently started birdwatching and visiting parks more so that ties into it.

30. What’s one thing that never fails to make you happy/happier? I have a playlist of punk and some adjacent genres specifically for my work commutes / if I’m in a bad mood and it really does help a lot! Also, my glow in the dark weighted blanket.

35. Do you trust easily? I’m typically an open person but anything very important I keep close to my chest to only closer friends. I think there’s only 3 people I trust fully and completely. Is that a big or a small number?

40. Any bad habits? I guess doomscrolling, I can’t think of anything super major beyond that. I’m trying to be kinder to myself about certain things.

[txbioglow]

Hi so about the request for the Light x L sister reader it can be Normal it doesn’t have to be Yandere is that okay ? 😀

𝗠𝗘𝗘𝗧𝗜𝗡𝗚 𝗞𝗜𝗥𝗔

TYPE- oneshot (1.2k) THEATER- a STARRING- yagami light NOTE- k so like i lowkey had sm fun with this and i rlly loved this but like it’s the first thing that’s over 500 words that ive written in awhile so if it sucks omg im sorry. i left the ending up to imagination,, did they kiss or pull away or 👩‍🦯 anyway as u should y/n for not being a toy ur an independent woman period 💪💪

lightning cracked as the rain poured down, bouncing off the sides of y/n’s umbrella. something about the air was grim. well, at least that was what y/n thought as the funeral music blared. a casket was brought out, the casket of her late brother, known as l. imagine attending the funeral of your own brother, who was without a doubt viciously murdered. murdered for being the one to step up and attempt to catch kira. it was something scarring that a sister should hope to never have to go through; the death of a brother. however y/n didn’t seem to mind. sure she had a depressed facade, her face blotchy from crocodile tears, but deep down, she was jumping for joy. with l gone, killed by kira himself, no doubt, kira could finally rise up. rise and lead the new world.

so y/n sniffled and cried, earning pitiful looks from the small group attending l’s funeral. all was right in her world, though it may not seem that way. but y/n had to admit, there was one thing she just couldn’t piece together.

how did kira kill her brother? it had obviously been with a heart attack, but kira allegedly needed a name and a face to kill. l had been more careful than any, so how did kira get to him? that much she doubted she’d ever know.

yet just as if the gods had been listening, something caught her eye. a man in the back. he looked to be about the same age as her brother. the man had fair looks, he seemed decent enough. however the thing that caught y/n’s eye the most, every moment that the man believed no one was looking at him,  his somber expression turned into a smirk. he was shaking, not from tears, but a silent laughter. it was almost as if he were gloating. right there at l’s funeral.

y/n was sharp, she was easily able to come up with a reason for his laughter. one that explained the very thing she had been wondering. how did kira kill her brother? something told her that this man had something to do with the matter.

the service ended soon after, y/n made sure to take her time, allowing everyone else to leave before her.  eventually, the only two left in the room were the man she now knew as light, and y/n herself. light seemed like he was stalling, suspiciously finding as many things to do as he could. tying his shoe for example, or taking a mint from his pocket.

y/n of course saw through him. he had to be kira, there was no other explanation. light must’ve finally killed l, and now he wanted a moment. just to taunt l because he had won. y/n understood that well enough.

walking over to him, she smiled and tapped his shoulder. this was it, y/n was finally meeting kira himself; someone she had supported since the very beginning. “i have to admit, i didn’t exactly expect to see my brother’s killer at his funeral, kira.” she said slowly, letting it sink in.

light jumped a little, turning around to face her. he was shocked for a moment, but his relaxed smile quickly resurfaced. “me? that’s silly, i’m not kira. l was my friend, i could never kill my friend!” he laughed a little. 

y/n had to admit that he did sound convincing, like he was being truthful, however y/n could still tell that he was lying through his teeth. it takes one liar to know another. “you don’t have to hide it. i support kira, my brother got what was coming to him.” she smirked a little, laughing to herself for she could practically see the cogs turning in light’s head.

he was playing a dangerous game. what if he completely admitted to it, and it turned out to be a trick just so he would confess? she did seem sincere but he had to be careful. “ah i see,” he nodded his head, “and how did you come to that conclusion?”

“you laughed. you laughed in the middle of l’s funeral. either you’re mentally ill, or kira.” she stated, soundinng more and more confident. light cursed to himself under his breath, most likely having believed no one saw him. “observant. and what is it that you want from me? be careful what you say, i’m sure you know that i can kill you on the spot.” he grumbled, his innocent and charming persona fading.

“relax!” y/n said, giving light’s shoulder a pat, “i already told you, my brother got what he deserved. i’m simply happy with knowing who you are. and perhaps what your shinigami looks like if you’re feeling nice.” she flashed a smirk, pulling light in. 

something told him that she was different. different from all the other people he had used. light had to remind himself that she was nothing but an asset, someone to be used in order for him to get what he wanted.

he nodded his head, not breaking eye contact with her as he brought a piece of paper from his pocket. before y/n could react, light brushed the paper across her hand, revealing the large shinigami floating beside him. “kira at your service.” he grimaced softly, watching the woman before him lock her eyes on the creature.

so, who would’ve guessed, that l’s little sister y/n had been supporting him the entire time. that discovery could’ve been useful weeks ago. light could’ve made ages of progress, he could’ve been one step closer to creating his new world.

“i think that you could be useful” he said blatantly, confused as to why she scoffed at such an offer. “useful? so are you planning to use me? if you are, i’d play your cards right. i may support you, but i won’t throw myself at you.” she stated, bringing her face dangerously close to light’s. y/n had expected the shocked reaction that quickly flashed upon his face. he was surely used to women being infatuated with him and selling him their souls.

however he recovered quickly, “is that so? well, one plan foiled i suppose.” neither of them spoke. both seemingly mesmerized by the other. finally y/n spoke up, “i’m not sure what you’re planning, but if you think that somehow i could help you, then i think that could be arranged.” 

“and what is it that you want in return?” light shot back, still speaking quietly. “is it not enough to feel the satisfaction of helping a friend?” she inquired, in a teasing manner. something about the way she spoke, it made light feel differently. once again the idea that she was more than a tool entered his mind, but of course not. he would use her, and toss her aside when she was no longer of any worth. just as he did, and would eventually do to everyone else. there was no reason for her to be something more.

“hmm,” was the only thing he said, cupping her face in his hands. staring at her directly, their faces only inches from contact, “how interesting”

𝗪𝗘𝗘𝗞𝗟𝗜𝗘𝗦- @kaminology @zerohawks @nejihoe @lazcady @linak @kageyuwu 

[heavymetalover]

Heresy (Michael Langdon x fem reader)

Summary: You’re a witch visiting the Hawthorne School for Exceptional Young Men, aiding to your fallen Supreme, Cordelia, when suddenly engaging in a spontaneous rendezvous with the Boy Wonder himself, Michael Langdon.

Warnings: smut, dirty talk, light choking, fingering, oral sex, vaginal sex, dom/sub, hickies, rough sex, daddy kink.

Word count: 4.1k

A/N: back with another one shot after a depressive episode hahaaaaa fuck

feel free to ask me stuff, i may get to a request if i have time. also i needa follow more ahs/cody blogs since im slowly morphing back into an ahs blog so ill try to follow everyone back! anyways 

enjoy:)

~~~~

 Ever since your arrival at Hawthorne, you’ve been enamored with the talk of the town. Mr. Bigshot Michael Langdon. You came with Cordelia, the plane ride made you nauseated. Not from the immoderate turbulence, but from the thought of your Supreme falling. You all had doubts, thought that Michael was just another powerful warlock, nothing too menacing; but when Michael brought back your sisters from the dead, something Cordelia couldn’t even do, you knew he was a threat.

Michael is one of the few people on this Earth you’ve met with unbreakable confidence. He holds his head high, a cunning smirk enduringly secured on his full pink lips. Yet something about him is also so child-like. His power excites him and he’s always quick to engage in conversation about himself; almost giddy with his effervescent wit, yet beautifully controlled.

You don’t know what made you want to engage with this man, the most you’ve ever done with him is shake his hand. There was a moment he brushed against you, you felt a hard bulge in his pants lightly brush against your ass, his big hand squeezing your shoulder as he wedged himself past you, lingering slightly and feeling as if he purposely was pushing his pelvis against you. You dismissed your suspicions of this minor interaction, explaining it away as a whimsical delusion plagued by your hormonal, juvenile brain. Although, you wanted more than anything to believe he was coming onto you, you were here to support the witches. Your sisters. Not the desperate, power-driven warlocks.

It’s late in the evening, Cordelia passed out on the couch in the common area while the other witches attempt to nurse her to health, a few of them nearly falling asleep next to her. For some odd reason, your eyes are resisting sleep tonight. You’re carelessly flipping through a book, eyes grazing over the tiny words. Your mind is preoccupied with something else, someone else. Constantly glancing around the room just in hopes you’d catch a glimpse of his golden curls reflecting the candlelight, or even his black cloak dramatically flowing behind him, something, anything to feed your hunger.

You presume a few hours have passed now; the whole school has gone silent except for a thumping bass in the distance. Once you fixate on the noise, your eyebrows knit in confusion. You thought you were the last person awake. You shut the book you’ve been neglecting and set it back on the shelf, prudently pursing the bass-y melody. Your heels echoing in the empty halls, stopping dead in your tracks when you come to the hall where the music originates. You walk through the arch into the rich, golden hallways lit up by flickering candles. Hard rock music blaring from a closed door, but it becomes obvious who’s room it is as you get closer. You can recognize his scent from a mile away. The music comes from Michael’s room.

You ball your fist, ready to pound his door and tell him to turn down his music, but pause before you can make contact with the door. You hear low groans over the music, momentarily mistaking them to be apart of the song, but soon realizing it’s Michael’s voice when he grunts out a loud “fuck!”

Your jaw drops, just hearing his moans on the other end of the door makes your heart sink. With little hesitation, you press your ear against the door, your earring hitting the polished wood and making a louder clink than you expected. Michael doesn’t seem to notice, continuing his low moans from inside the room.

You initially came with the intention of telling him off, giving him a much-needed reality check that the world doesn’t revolve around him. But you’re compelled to put all of that on hold and keep listening, laying your palm against his wooden door and resting on it, catching yourself pretending it’s Michael’s sturdy, defined body. You know you shouldn’t be so thirsty for him; he exudes arrogance out of his pores, exhausting and intoxicating you all at once. You’d never admit it, but buried deep down, you know you like that about him. You like his hubris, it makes you fantasize about how possessive he’d be when fucking you, how he’d humiliate you.

You run your hand down the door panel and press your cheek harder against the wood. Your other hand reaching underneath your short, lacey black dress. The scent of his cologne is strong enough to have tainted the door. You bask in the gritty, manly pheromones, starting to rub your aching clit in small circles. Your lips grazing the door as you quicken your pace, listening to his loud music and touching yourself to the rhythm. You can see why he listens to it; it’s even helping you get more into the mood.

You’re practically kissing the door when you almost fall flat onto the floor by somebody swinging it open. You regain your balance and collect yourself, feeling your face burning red with embarrassment. Michael’s icy blue eyes scope the situation for a moment, landing on you, then the door, then your hand on your crotch. You pull it away after Michael’s already found it. Shit. He clears his throat. “Y/n,” he talks to you slow, as if you were a toddler, “what the fuck?”

Your mind sets aside his condescending tone for a moment to revel in the fact that he knows your name; though you mentally beat yourself up right after for being so desperate and putting your dignity on the backburner. It takes you a split second to spew out your reply, “I-I could ask you the same.” You bite your tongue in hopes he didn’t linger too much on your stumble. “I could hear your music all the way from the common room, people are trying to sleep.”

“And why aren’t you?” he leans both his arms against the doorframe, looking so lackadaisical and impossibly sexy. You hate him for it.

“I was watching over Cordelia,” you lie, although you wish it was true. You know the only reason is because of him, because your thoughts always come back to his beautiful, smug face.

“I don’t believe you,” he says with a slight shake to his head, his lively curls bobbing with each movement.

You know you should just leave the situation now and give him one last nudge to turn down his music, but something inside you urges you to entertain his question. “Why don’t you believe me?” you ask, bouncing back and forth on the tiny heels of your stilettos. “What else would I be doing?” you wish you could swallow the words back up as soon as they leave your mouth.

He squints his eyes at you as if you had just asked the dumbest question on the planet. “Listening to me,” he shoots back, “and…” His eyes trail down to your crotch and he raises a brow. He doesn’t audibly declare your actions, as if saying the words aloud will frame the situation to be even more perverted than it already is.

“And touching myself,” you finish his sentence, taking a step closer to him.

There’s a certain energy to him, a sinister overtone even when a stupid grin spreads across his face. “You’re a nasty little witch, aren’t you?” he asks, keeping his voice low.

The tension becomes thicker with each pause, you feel your breathing getting uneven, mouth watering, a numbness to your fingertips. Michael looks completely unphased, still holding himself with the utmost confidence. “Maybe that’s for you to decide,” you reply gingerly, “sir.”

He inches himself closer to you until his nose barely brushes the tip of yours. “I think you are,” he whispers. You gulp down all the excess water in your mouth, just looking at him makes you hungry for more. He aggressively takes a chunk of your hair and pulls your head back, the candles in the hallway burn out. Did you do that?

He gives a measly scoff at your powers before turning back to you. Michael leans closer, his lips shave yours ever so slightly. Hooded eyes surveying every inch of your face, pulling tighter and smiling at your wince in pain. “You want me?” he asks, lips lugging against yours, but rejecting the satisfaction of a kiss.

“Yes,” you let out a breathy whisper. “I do, sir.” An attempt to kiss him results in your hair being mercilessly tugged again. It hurt to the point you felt a burning behind your eyes, tears threatening to appear, but you wouldn’t dare tell him to stop. At this point, you’d do anything Michael wanted you to do, be anything he wanted you to be.

He drags the back of his moist tongue down your neck and stops at the base, laying his lips down and lightly sinking his teeth into you, sucking up the salty sweat on your skin. You unexpectedly moan at his ardor, eyes darting around the hall for witnesses. He sucks vigorously, eliciting a surprised gasp from you each time he sucks harder. Deciding he’s done when your neck feels on fire, his mouth parts from your flesh with a delicious smack.

He releases his tight grasp from your hair, now clutching the back of your neck with a death grip, squeezing like he owns your body. A light groan dies on his lips as he comes back to your face, lips touching again. “I smelt you as soon as you came to my door, I know the smell of a witch well.” Neither of you make an effort to pull away, he uses one of his slender arms to caress the side of your body, moving along your curves. “I know the smell of a drenched cunt, too.” His hand finds your pussy and to his avail, he’s correct.

Sliding your panties to the slide, he thumbs your core. You grab his toned arm for balance as he touches your sensitive clit, rubbing it slowly with ease. “You eavesdropped on me fucking myself, huh?” his tone turns rough. “Invading my privacy…” he continues through gritted teeth as if he was holding back on cussing you out completely. He rubs you harder and faster, your face contorting as you grab onto him tighter. You bite your tongue to hold back screams, almost forgetting that you were standing outside of his room, but the thrill of getting caught turns you on even more. You can feel the wetness dripping down your thighs. “You like invading my privacy,” he starts again, rubbing harder than ever. You feel yourself getting pushed to the edge, biting your tongue so hard you draw blood. “Say it,” he demands.

“I like invading your… f-fuck! Y-your privacy,” it takes all your power to form a coherent sentence. Your pussy convulses under his fingers and he takes them away, leaving an agonizing throbbing in your clit.

He pulls you by your wrist into his room, shutting the door behind him. His lips automatically connect to yours, aggressively tongue-fucking your face, barely stopping to take a breath. “Is this what you wanted?” he asks breathlessly. “You want to be used like a whore?”

You smile at his crudeness; his dirty talk sends chills throughout your core. “Yes, daddy,” you respond softly, returning to his kisses. He grins against your kiss at this little nickname. A childish whimper escaping your lips when his pants rub against your unfinished cunt.

He pulls away to tug his black shirt over his head, you take the moment apart to slip off your tight dress. “I was hoping you’d stop by after I pushed myself into you,” he grins. A wave of relief passes through you when you realize that moment you shared with him wasn’t a product fabricated by being overly imaginative. “I knew your body would be mine the moment I saw you in that tight little dress.”

“I wore it just for you,” you speak your words with a sugary sweetness to match your frenzied desperation for him to fill you up. “My body is all yours.”

“I know,” he sneers. He pushes you onto the bed, towering over you as he claws off your panties. His skin slightly glistened in sweat, intimately lit by the dim lighting in his room. You’ve never seen someone look so goddamn sexy. He runs a hand through his perfect golden waved hair before settling himself between your legs. The first contact he makes is licking up your hot cunt before reintroducing his fingers. It won’t take much more to make you come since he started you off in the hall.

Now that you’re in the comfort of his room, you let all your moans escape as loud as you want. “Fuck, Michael!” you yell, hoping the music is loud enough to mask your screams. His tongue pulses against your dripping pussy as his slim fingers work your clit again. You shut your eyes as tight as you can and pull at the sheets of his bed, feeling the vibration of his moans against your cunt and the cadence of the song, everything turns you on.

Just not enough.

I need more.

Nothing seems to satisfy.

I said, I don’t want it.

I just need it.

To breathe, to feel, to know I’m alive.

Michael’s finger slides inside your pussy, pulsing to his own rhythm, speeding up before you can adjust to his intensity. He adds another finger flicking up inside your pussy, tickling your g-spot with each tap. “Fu-” you can’t even release your cursing. “Right there, right there,” you breathe, not sure your words are even audible. Michael begins pacing his tongue over your ripened clit, continuing to fuck you with his long fingers and rub your slit with his thumb, making sure every nerve is stimulated.

You yank his sheets, trying to sit up and watch him devour you, but dropping back onto the bed in defeat. “S-so good,” you cry. He speeds up even more and you yelp. He snickers at your titillation, sending a flood of heat against your cunt. “I’m,” is the only word you can get out before fauceting a stream of clear liquid from your hole.

Michael leans back, letting your pussy release all of the built-up tension. His face scrunches up inquisitively as you come all over his bed. Once you’re done leaking and completely out of breath, Michael glances at you in disbelief. “Wow,” is the only word that can cross his lips before licking up the excess filth that splashed onto your thighs. He climbs on top of you to plant a kiss on your begging lips, you taste your salty juices in his mouth. He parts from the kiss and you lick yourself off of your lips. “That’s my dirty girl,” he praises.

He takes both of your arms and pulls you to sit up on his bed. You’re so lost in ecstasy that you can’t even process Michael slipping his pants down in front of you and the enormous protrusion occupying his boxers. You get thrown back into the fire when his lengthy erection springs out and slaps your cheek. Your brain reacts as if programmed to be his little sex toy. You grab his cock in your hands and shove it down your throat. “Show me how grateful you are that I let you come,” he rocks his hips into your face. You grab his hips to push his dick even further into your mouth, working past your gags and pushing as deep as you can. Every time he thrusts you feel yourself choke on his length, “You like the way I fuck your face, huh? You like how I treat you like a dirty hole?”

You pull him out of your mouth, inhaling the smell of his cologne and spitting on the pink tip of his hard cock. You haven’t seen a dick this big outside of porn, maybe not even in porn. You stroke his length, giving yourself time to recover before shoving him back down your throat. You lick up his balls and he groans, beginning to reposition your head for sucking.

You open your mouth and he shoves himself back in, plunging to the back of your throat. You feel your mouth coat his dick with saliva, choking back on his precum and slurping back all of the juices. You run your hand up and down his shaft, feeling like you’re only able to guzzle down half of his dick. You pull it out of your mouth to spit on his glazed cock, continuing to jerk his shaft. You go back to sucking, bobbing your head up and down as fast as you can and releasing his cock to spit on it. He throws his head back as you continue mouth fucking him. “Goddamn!” he shouts, rocking himself into you even harder. You gag on his cock, tears streaming down your cheeks, he loves this. “Let me see your eyes,” he requests. You look up at him, blinking out your tears. “Fuck me,” he sighs before pulling himself out of your mouth, a white substance oozing from his hole.

You fight to catch your breath as he’s already repositioning you. Pushing you onto all fours and spitting on your cunt before entering. “I can’t wait to stretch out those tight little walls,” he says, teasing his cock up and down your folds. “Say it’s okay,” he begs, his cock pressed against your hole. Your heart skips when he says this. You nod your head, too in shock to conjure an answer. “I want to hear you say it,” he presses.

You gulp down your nervousness, trying not to appear stunned by his need for approval. “I want you to stretch out my walls, daddy,” you finally answer, using your hands to spread your pussy wide for him. “Fuck me until I can’t walk,” you plead, wiggling your tailbone and pushing his erection into your cunt.

This is admission enough for him, he inserts the head and you feel your whole-body tremble. His cock is so thick, you can really feel your pussy stretching for him. He grabs your hips and slowly starts adding some of his length. You tense up and grab his arm, he stops immediately. “Just relax, relax baby,” he reassures you.

You take a deep breath in and he pushes himself into you on exhale, placing a hand on the small of your back as he goes deeper… and deeper and deeper, as if his dick is bottomless. You find yourself pulling at his sheets again, more tears forming in your eyes. He starts rocking his hips, cramming his large cock into your tight pussy. Each push begins loosening you up, your pain turning into pleasure as he inserts more of himself into you. “Good girl,” he flatters, giving a small smack to your ass and making you jump.

Both of you moaning in pleasure, fucking to the rhythm of the song playing. The instruments enveloping you and you push yourself even more against his dick, wanting to feel all of him inside you. “Give it all to me,” you demand, pushing him deeper inside of you. You both sigh with how deep he’s getting. “Fuck me, daddy,” you hear yourself wailing like a child.

“M’yeah?” he breathes, taking it as a challenge. In an instant, he executes your request, shoving himself balls deep, filling your guts with his thick length. Taken aback, you accidentally knock out all the lights in his room with a squeal, leaving behind a single candle on the opposite side of his room. The wind gets knocked out of you; breath unsteady. You can’t summon any words to your lips, just incessant choked sobs that wither away at the back of your throat.

He keeps pounding himself into you, his balls slapping your clit and sending goosebumps throughout your body. “You like being your coven’s dirty slut?” he spits, giving another hard slap to your ass. You can’t bring yourself to answer him. He drills so deep into you that you can feel him hammering your cervix. You can’t take him anymore and autonomously shift yourself away from him with a raucous scream, crawling away from his thick cock, but Michael chases. He clicks his tongue. “Don’t run away from it, baby,” he teases as you keep shifting.

You stop crawling away once you reach the edge of his bed, his cock sitting idly inside your tight pussy as he catches up. He breaks the lull and starts pumping into you quickly again, this time pinning your arms behind your back. “No more running away,” he taunts. You feel your pussy spasming with each plunge, your muscles adjusting to his fat cock, but they never seem to process it. You can’t stop moaning, screaming for more. You roll your eyes back and drop your head in defeat, taking the hard pounding to your cunt. “That’s it, baby,” he sighs. “Take all of daddy’s cock like a good slut.”

He guides himself into you, salaciously smacking into your round ass with each thrust. You feel like your whole body is crumbling under his touch, one more move and you’d be pure dust. Your heartbeat quickened, body shaking, numbness in your legs, you know you’re close to coming. You close your eyes shut, clenching your jaw, stifled moans escaping animalistically from the back of your throat. You squeeze one of Michael’s arms as he continues holding your hands behind your back. Papers fly off his desk, the music volume fluctuates, you can’t believe how strong your powers are becoming under him.

“C’mon, baby,” he continues assaulting your cunt with hard thrusts, “come for me. Come for daddy.” He wraps a large hand around your throat, hitching your breath, and directs your body to be flush against his. Your back against his chest, creating friction as he keeps with the same fervor. His lips against your ear, “Who’s your Supreme now, baby?”

The thought of Cordelia decaying on the couch in the common space right now crosses your mind, but being under Michael’s influence sends dark thoughts rushing in your head. Who cares? “You, Michael. You’re my new Supreme,” you answer with a strangled sob.

He pushes you back onto the bed, burying your head into his mattress. You suck up his scent through the fabric; drooling onto his sheets while being fucked senseless, you love the way he uses you. “That’s right, baby,” he affirms, “I’m the fucking Supreme.”

He gives another smack, and with that, a trembling throughout your entire body. “Michael, I’m coming!” you scream, trying to lift yourself up, but he keeps pushing you down. “Michael, I’m-!” you get cut off by the unyielding orgasm overtaking your body. Your mouth hangs open, eyes rolled back, fingers digging into his sheets. The lower half of your body surrenders to the orgasm gushing juices from your already-soaking cunt.

Michael sneers over you coming before him, but he’s close to release too. You flip onto your back and he fondles your breasts, throwing his head back and letting out a deep sigh. His skin turns a sickeningly pale white, his eyes meet yours, completely blacked out. He leans down to give you a quick kiss on the lips, his skin burning hot. Why aren’t you scared?

Although you were certain you had lost feeling between your legs from orgasm, when he thrusts himself into you, the hardest he has yet, you can’t help but let out a little yelp. You feel his hot seed spilling into your cunt, he takes himself out of you, smearing his come into your folds with the tip of his cock. You don’t even give yourself the opportunity to dwell on what happened to Michael during orgasm, why he looked so evil. You write it off as maybe-it’s-a-warlock-thing.

He collapses next to you, skin returning to it’s usual light tan and eyes reverting to a deep blue. So blue that you can fall right into them. Oh, your mind wanders, how will you ever hide this from Cordelia? Or worse, how could you explain yourself to her? Face her at this time?

Michael rests his palm on your cheek, swaying your gaze towards him and snapping you out of your daze. “Don’t you worry your pretty little head about Cordelia,” he assures you. Fuck, he was listening.

He plants a soft kiss on your lips, much more loving than anything else he’s done with you tonight. “Cordelia is falling. Remember, I’m your Supreme now… and you don’t have to worry about a thing.”

[mackeydoodledoo]

Two Different Types of Musicians

Pairing: Jesy Nelson x (Fem!)Reader

Summary: You're a musician who plays instruments, so you are a renowned Guitarist, Bassist and of many other instruments however, mainly guitar and bass. Jesy Nelson is most known for being in the British girl group; Little Mix. In Little Mixs' upcoming tour, their managers and producers want to pick the best of the best musicians to help them with this tour. One of them happens to be you.... 

Warnings: Past Trauma

A/N: This is in 1st person

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

As I step out if the gate, I grab some food. I grab my big suitcase and my guitar and begin making my way to the exit of the airport. I hail a cab to head to the O2 arena and I pay with the money I was able to convert for England.

"What’s the occasion you're here for?" The cab driver asks

"For a Tour," I answer, trying to not have the guy ask too many questions

He doesn't ask many more, thank god. And so I step out as soon as I grab my guitar from the trunk and take out my "Tour member" pass. However as soon as I close the trunk, I recognize one of the Little Mix members outside. I saw a swarm of fans beginning to form around her; security guards trying to keep them back. I slowly begin snaking around the crowd however, more people just keep on coming. However once I make it through, she spots me and smiles and walks over. She takes my hand and rushes back inside.

"How was your flight love?" Jesy asks

"Oh it was pretty laid back," I start, "But I am absolutely slap-happy!"

Jesy turns to look at me, confused at whatvi said.

"Slap-happy is a band term back home," I smile

She smiles with me and continues to lead me to the stage area. There I see Perrie, Leigh-Anne and Jade. If im going to be honest I didn't think I'd get to go on tour with Little Mix. Or any type of band for that matter.

"So you're the one excellent Guitar player our manager hand picked?" Jade comes up to me and gives me a hug

I give one back and to the same to the rest of the girls and I get introduced to the live band.

"So what do you have for us to show off your amazing skills?" Perrie asks

I smirk and click my tongue and gently place my guitar case down and proceed to take her out. Her name is Shelby Toro. Her body color is a Silver Base with medium to large sparkles and a Deep Ocean Blue racing stripe vinyl. She's a Fender/Squier Jazzmaster. She has a Squier body/hardware and a Fender Jazzmaster neck. She has a black woven designed strap. I plug in my wireless system transmitters and play a C chord and begin tuning her. As soon as she's tuned, I call out to the sound system people and tell them to play "Bulletproof heart" by My Chemical Romance. I put in a headset that also plays the song so I can listen to the lyrics. Because I already have the riff memorized. Everyone begins making their way to the audience and begin watching me.

Gravity

Don't mean too much to me

I'm who I've got to be

These pigs are after me

After you

Run away

Like it was yesterday

And we can run away

If we could run away

Run away from here

I begin to play the power chord and begin jamming out to the music and begin getting into it. I notice everyone has their jaw on the floor. Especially Jesy. I kneel down and begin making eye contact with her. I could see the sparkles from my guitar in her eyes. I couldn't help but smile at her.

I gotta Bulletproof Heart

You gotta Hallow point smile

We had our run away scarves

Got a photograph dream on the getaway mile

I wanted to hold her hand as I sing to her however, my right hand is strumming and my left had is making the notes. So, I give her a wink and a kiss, feeling in the moment of the music. I stand up and begin to close my eyes, letting the music take me into my place, both of my hands instinctively playing the lead guitar riff, letting the song sing itself out. Once the solo arrives, I turn myself around and begin backbending. Letting my back bend me as far as it'll go without me falling backward. As the solo begins to end, I bend myself back up and put my foot on one of the floor lights as I ring out the last note of the solo. Once I ring out the last note of the song, I watch Perrie, Leigh-Anne, Jade and Jesy run up on stage as I put my guitar on a stand. Jesy practically jumps into my arms and I stumble back.

"That was amazing," she says, "How did you do that with the backbending, and the part where you closed your eyes and began feeling the music?"

"Been playing for years now," I smile, "Perks of being a band kid."

I settle myself into the back with all of the other live band members and they all begin congratulating me on a really great performance.

Once rehearsal ends, we all head back to the airport to Paris, France for the opening night of the tour.

"Y/N, can I talk to you for a minute?" Jade says

As I lock my case and stand up as I loop the case strap around me.

"I saw how Jesy looked at you during your initiation performance," Jade starts, "I'm supposed to sit next to her but I think she'll have a great time on the plane ride next to you."

"Thanks Jade," I smile, switching our tickets

I catch up to Jesy.

"Hey love," she says, "Would you wanna grab food when we get to Paris?"

"Oh for sure," I smile

I unintentionally hold onto Jesy's hand as we begin trying to sweep through the crowd to get to the cars. But I follow Jesy closely as she begins signing as many autographs as she can give.

"Is it true you two are going to go steady?" A fan asks

Jesy blushes as I look at them confused. And I remember our joined hands.

"Um no," I stutter, "We literally just met today."

However, I feel a pair of lips press lightly on my cheek. I look at her and she gives out her signature witch laugh. I blush. Not because of the light cheek kiss, but because of her laugh. I really enjoyed listening to it when I watch a compilation of their funny moments. The fans screech and cheer as Jesy drags me to the car to head to the airport.

"What was that for?" I ask

"Just for giggles," she laughs, "besides I think you liked it too. Seeing how red you went."

"Shut up," I laugh, gently nudging her in the shoulder.

I watch the city lights go by as we drive tk the airport. However, I feel Jesy lean into me. She must've had a long day.... Same here love. I gently wrap my arm around her to give her a more comfortable pillow as we wait.

We finally reach the airport, again, a handful of fans try to get photos with them or want autographs. I catch up with the rest of the live band and we head inside of the airport, no one really paid any attention to us. As we wait inside, I scroll through my phone when I feel a pair of hands slowly coiling around my waist. I almost jump and accidentally elbow Jesy in the face.

"Oh, God you scared me," I laugh, "How'd that go out there?"

"Chaotic," Jesy laughs

I laugh with her and we make our way to our gate to go to Paris. I put Shelby Toro with my suitcase and pay the extra whatever it costed. I hold onto Jesy's hand again as we continue to our gate. As we sit in the terminal area, I yawn.

"Jet lag?" Perrie asks

"Well I'm just tired in general Perrie," I crack my knuckles

Jesy gently rubs my back and I'm going to be honest.... It was therapeutic. Especially when Jesy rolls her thumb against my back.

Once we finally get on the plane and land in Paris, Jesy hails a cab for us two and get breakfast somewhere. The show didn't start until the day after tomorrow so we had a little bit of time to chill.

"So.... I understand you've been having rough times," I start, "We don't have to talk about it here or in general if you don't feel comfortable."

"Somewhere else would be lovely," Jesy says

"I don't mean to hop right into that but, I understand how you felt, or even still feel to this day," I state

Jesy looks at me, not like Stop Talking but as if she's interested in my story.

"Well," I clear my throat, "it started when I was in high school. It was my second year and i am thriving with some new friends I've made. They were new to the school and so I was like 'oh they're cool I wanna be friends with them!' And we hit it off well and when I started showing them how I usually am. Especially with the high school marching band, they stopped talking to me all of a sudden. In a panic, I was trying to ask them what was wrong, if I made them mad or if I did something wrong. One of them told me I did nothing wrong but then proceeds to block me. Next day I couldn't talk to them and then I get called to the counseling office. I'm ushered into a small office space just to be told, how I act around my trusted people was wrong and that I should have stopped.-"

I clearly begin feeling slight tears forming into my eyes but I try my best to not show how much it hurt around Jesy.

"And I sobbed in that confined room and I wanted to leave but the counselor didn't let me," I continue. "So I forced myself to stop crying and I left. The next few months I felt really depressed and.... I-it was the first time I had suicidal thoughts. That's all I've been thinking about and no matter how many times my close friends tried to comfort me I always revert back to being depressed and wanting to no longer feel the pain I felt."

I feel a thumb gently wipe across my cheek and her other thumb gently stroking the back of my hand.

"Y/N, I'm so sorry that happened to you," she says

"However, I am doing better than I did at that time," I state, "But more important question, are you okay?"

Jesy just looks at me.... I was about to open my mouth when Jesy opens hers.

"I'm quite alright," she answers, "Thanks love."

"I really should be thanking you," I say, "Thanks for listening to my whole shit show."

"I don't want anyone going down a dark path love," she says, "I'm here for you."

We make eye contact and I was about to make a comment before I heard a phone ring. It was Jesy's. We were requested back to the rehearsal venue and we take a taxi to the venue.

The two of us walk in and I already see the drummer setting up my guitar.

"Thanks dude!" I call out

He gives me a thumbs up and goes back to his drumset.

"Did you two enjoy your date?" Jade asks, teasing me

"Yes we did it sweetheart," Jesy answers but in a joking tone

Knowing myself, I'm oblivious if someone likes me and is showing me by flirting or they're just being nice. I nod along and I walk over to tune my guitar.

Tour goes amazingly, crowd is always awesome and the girls tend to give us the spotlight. Every other night the girls would want us to play a couple of songs. And mostly for the encore we all agreed to just have a little mix out on stage. We're fine with that as we need a break too. We were in the final show, which was using the UK, easy for the girls to go home.

"You alright love?" Jesy comes up to me

"Yeah," I answer, stretching out my wrists, "I never thought I'd be touring with any sort of band. So cross that off my bucket list."

Before I leave to warm up with the live band, I tuck hair behind my ear and plant a gentle kiss in Jesy's cheek.

"Good luck love," I say, mimicking Jesy's accent

"That was really good actually," Jesy laughs

That damn laugh again.... She might have it but I love it. A natural laugh is the best kind of laugh to hear. The both of us part ways for now.

[swiss-cheeze]

Hallelujah || Spencer Reid

I am, so terrified to post this simply because it’s ‘new’ and stuff idk.

Disclaimer: IM ONLY UP TO SEASON 2 OF CRIMINAL MINDS, I do know what happens later on revolving around Reid and IT DOES GET MENTIONED (drugs, the jail) however no detail gets put in due to me not actually knowing about it a lot.

Another disclaimer: the characters in this are Reid, you, Hotch, Gideon, Garcia, J.J., Morgan and Emily. Stuff from Reid’s ‘future’ gets told in this even tho there are different people on the team at that time but because I don’t know them I didn’t put them in there.

I hope that makes sense.

Requested: YES/NO Gender: none, they/them Warnings: talk of suicide/jumping off a building along with depression, loneliness. Description: Spencer is a little scared to show his partner of 3 and a half years to his work mates, that is, until his partner wows the team with their singing skills.

“Guys i just, i dunno…” Spencer sighed softly and stopped walking for what felt like the tenth time that night, the group sighed as they stopped with Spencer as he started pacing on the spot and ran his hands through his hair.

“Wonder Boy it's going to be okay, there's nothing to be afraid of” Garcia reassured Spencer for what would have to be the third time since they left the office.

“I-I know that but statistically speaking-” Spencer began, the team all seemed to give each other a look that told them the same thing.

“Nuh uh Pretty Boy!” Morgan interjected, the muscled man grabbed Spencer by his shoulders and started walking in the direction of the bar, “you have been on and off about this person for a month now, not telling us a single thing and then maybe a phrase or something and quite frankly i'm fed up with it” as Morgan opened the doors to the bar the group walked in with Spencer still standing out the front nervously chewing his nails and sent a frightened look to Morgan. Hotch sighed before turning to Morgan.

“I got this one, you head inside” the chief of the BAU spoke, he allowed Morgan to go inside before stepping out with Spencer, “what's gotten you so tight?” the man asked Spencer, “friend to friend, this isn't work.” the man concluded as he saw Spencer's mind racing.

“I’m scared, Hotch, and I'm not normally scared or-or fearful, yeah I've been to prison and gotten addicted to drugs and shot-shot multiple times but this…” Spencer sighed as he ran his hands through his hair again and paced back and forth, “but this is different, they really mean alot to me and have been with me through almost everything since i was in prison and they’ve been there for every and all breakdowns and moments,” Spencer took this moment to look at Hotch with reddened eyes, “i really love them you know? They,” Spencer sniffled as he smiled brightly, “they give me such a high that the drugs could never give me, they give me such a lightened feeling, such happiness that when i go home after a case i almost forget about the horrors i've witnessed that day and they remind me of the true happiness and love this world can give to certain people,” he took a breath as Hotch interjected.

“So why are you so scared?” Hotch asked as his hands rested on his hips, it was a simple question, and even with the ramble Spencer just spoke it took him a moment to come up with an answer.

“Because i just want you guys to love him as much as i do,” Spencer said with a soft smile as memories flooded his mind of the past 3 and a half years with you, “obviously not in the romantic way but-”

“Reid,” Hotch paused Spencer, the boy looked to his elder in a way a boy would look to his father after being told off, “this person, they make you happy, yes?” Hotch asked, Spencer nodded vigorously, “then you have not a thing to worry about” the man said with a faint smile, “as long as you’re happy, you aren't in prison and are off the drugs than thats all that matters to us, and the fact you have a partner just makes it better because then you can share that happiness with that person just like you said before, they make you feel something the drugs never could,” Hotch stepped forward and held Spencer on his biceps with a firm grip to keep the boy grounded, “so let's go in there and meet this person” Hotch finalised, Spencer nodded affirmatively and the pair walked into the bar one after the other.

“Finally!” Emily called as the team sat around a table with two empty seats, “so?” the girl asked as her and the rest of the team looked just as curious, “where are they?” she asked, Spencer breathed in and smiled as he checked the time.

“Two minutes more and they’ll be here,” Spencer said as he checked his watch.

“Oh so you made us get here early just so you could get pissed?” Morgan said jokingly as their drinks got to their table.

“Leave him alone Morgan it's his first time,” Gideon said with a chuckle as he took a swig of his beer.

“First time? What's that-” Spencer started to talk but got cut off when someone tapped the microphone. Everyone turned their heads to look to the stage, a man holding a folder was standing in front of the microphone.

“Hello! I would like to invite our next singer slash band up on stage; (Y/n) (L/n) and Micheal Herance!” the man smiled brightly as he clapped and you walked on stage with Micheal in tow behind you.

“You didn't tell us they were in a band!” Garcia exclaimed.

“I hope its not country,” Morgan deadpanned softly which made Garcia kick him under the table, when Morgan looked to Garcia with confusion she nudged her head over to Spencer who seemed to be glazed over, his eyes full of love and adoration as you and the other person tried to get ready quickly.

“They’re only small and do mostly covers but they’re really good” Spencer said with a smile as he grabbed his drink and took a sip. Micheal took his seat on the wooden stool with an electric guitar as you grabbed the microphone and cleared your throat.

“Hi,” you said softly, even if you’ve been doing stage shows for a little over a year, seeing all those eyes on you and your band still made you feel anxious, “we are two fourths of The Charmed Crosses,” you said with a chuckle, “this is a song i would like to dedicate to a special someone whom i hope has made i tonight,” Spencer wanted to jump up and down and scream to say he made it but he felt that would ruin the mood so he stayed put as he realised that the stage lights would be the things hindering your sight, “even if he isn't this is recorded so, Spencer Reid with three PhD’s, this one goes out to you my sweet.” The Team silently pat Spencer on the back as the boy blushed slightly with a smile.

“It's nothing, they do it all the time” Spencer said softly as he took a mouthful of his drink again and the opening notes to Hallelujah started playing from the guitar.

“Oh this is going to make me cry,” Garcia said softly as Emily and J.J. nodded in agreement, Gideon squeezed Garcia's hand, he didn't want to admit it but it was going to bring a tear to his eye too.

“Well I'd heard there was a secret chord, that David played and it pleased the Lord, but you don't really care for music, do you?” your voice drifted through the microphone as the Guitar chords struck itself within you and the crowd, “Well, it goes like this, the fourth, the fifth, the minor fall, the major lift, the baffled king! Composing Hallelujah. Hallelujah, Hallelujah, Hallelujah, Hallelujah” your voice drifted like soft wood and carried emotions that nobody else could try and carry, “Well, your faith was strong but you needed proof, you saw her bathing on the roof, her beauty and the moonlight overthrew ya” you took a breath as the guitar carried for a few notes, “She tied you to the kitchen chair, she broke your throne and she cut your hair! And from your lips, she drew the Hallelujah. Hallelujah, Hallelujah, Hallelujah, Hallelujah” the emotion in your words where one that couldn't be described as the team looked between you and the lovestruck Spencer, no way had this guy picked you, of all people, though it was possible it was slim. But it happened, “But baby, I've been here before, I've seen this room and I've walked this floor. You know, I used to live alone before I knew ya” these lyrics seemed to go out to Spencer in a way that wasn't one the team, your coworkers or the world would ever know, it was a thing for you two and you two only, “And I've seen your flag on the marble arch, and love is not a victory march!” this almost seemed to be a direct hit to Spencer, of his past dwellings, “It's a cold and it's a broken Hallelujah. Hallelujah, Hallelujah, Hallelujah, Hallelujah” the song spread a shiver up Morgans spine that even he wouldn't be able to explain as he took a moment to look to Ried, his love struck baby brother had finally grown into a man, your voice was soft in the places it needed to be and became hard in others in a way one couldn't describe. Your voice drifted with the guitar and carried out the rest of the song, the emotion brought out made everyone in the room believe you wanted the whole world to hear you, but only one person could understand. See, this song was the song that had saved your life, as cliche as it was things had gotten too rough for you to handle a few years ago, the stress of a daily job and bills and rent was getting too much for you, and one night you decided to go to the roof of your apartment with the radio and you played it for a little bit, letting the songs go one by one. When you decided you had stalled enough you stood on the edge of the building and looked down before looking back up to the sky, “give me one good reason, give me a sign, give me anything” you had spoken, and that's when you really did feel something. A wind gushed around you and ruffled your clothes as it made your radio fall onto its back, you sighed softly as you went to pick it up, and as you did the song changed to Hallelujah, of course you had heard it before but this time it felt like someone was really listening. In that moment you had sat in front of the radio and listened to the whole song right through to the end, that's also how Spencer found you on that roof.

---

“You don't have to know you,” Spencer's voice called out from the stairwell as he leaned against the doorframe. You gasped softly as you tried to dry your eyes before the mystery man could see you.

“Don’t have to do what?” you asked the man as the sound of his footsteps came closer to you and soon sat on the edge of the building, his hands where in his pocket as his tie blew in the wind along with his hair.

“I saw you standing on the edge, and i heard you ask for a reason, a sign,” Spencer shrugged softly, “you seemed to have gotten it though” the man said with a small smile as he looked to the radio, you smiled softly as you looked to the radio in your hands and smiled.

“Yeah i guess so,” you let the radio play the next song as you sat next to Spencer, “so what’re you doing out here then? Thought the same thing?” you asked as Spencer scoffed and shook his head No.

“No, no I'm here because I like to look at the stars when I feel alone,” Spencer said as he looked to the sky. You did too, “whenever I feel sad, alone, depressed, or even suicidal. I come up here for refuge, I look up at the stars and I think to myself, ‘if they’re up there, then they must have sacrificed a lot to be there, burning, forever'” Spencer talked with honey in his voice and admiration. You looked at the mystery man with a small smile, “but by all means if that wasn't a sign enough and neither was I then go ahead” Spencer said with a smile.

“Yeah? And why shouldn't i?” you asked as you stood up on the roof and started swinging your arms, “besides the song, and you” you stated.

“Because that is a lot of paperwork for a department to file for one person” Spencer said as he too stood up and walked towards you. You nodded.

“Well, consider my suicidal thoughts diminished,” you said with a small smile.

“Good” Spencer said as he walked to the staircase again, you turned and was disappointed to see him leaving so soon.

“What's your name? I don't believe i’ve seen you in the apartment block before,” you asked, it was a kind enough question, a name.

“I just moved in,” Spencer said as he stopped at the staircase, “my name is Spencer Ried, i have three Phd’s, if you ever need me im only ever two doors down from yours, number 15, either that or down at the BAU”

“You’re a profiler” you stated.

“Correct,” Spencer answered though he didn't move.

“So what’d you get from me?” you asked with crossed arms.

“You’re suicidal?” Spencer questioned playfully.

“You know what i mean,” you said with a sigh.

“Life is a hell of a thing to happen to someone” Spencer said with a smile, “a good friend of mine said that, he's a writer,” Spencer said with his hands still resting in his pockets.

“Brilliant” you said, it was half sarcastic and half...human.

“Goodnight…” Spencer trailed off as he didn't know your name.

“(Y/n). (Y/n) (L/n)” you said with a smile.

“Goodnight (Y/n) (L/n)” Spencer said.

“Goodnight Spencer Ried with three PhDs” you said with a smile as Spencer walked down the stairs.

---

After your first introduction to each other on that roof, you and Spencer started to become friends, then good friends, and then he asked you out on a date and now, 3 and a half years later. You couldn't be more happy to be alive than now. Time seemed to stand still as the last note from the guitar rang around the bar and everyone clapped, a few standing and another few wiping their tears away from the corners of their eyes. You smiled as you and Micheal bowed on the stage before walking off, Spencer nudged his team as he stood up.

“Come on, we’ll get a booth so it's easier” the profiler said as another band came onto the stage and started their song. The FBI agents all stood and followed Spencer to the bar where (Y/n) stood, looking around for their boyfriend and nervously sipping on whiskey, Spencer smirked as he turned to his friends with a look of excitement, “watch this” the Doctor said with a wiggle of his brows before walking over towards you. You bit your lip as you looked around nervously hoping Spencer had made it tonight, “a good looking person like you should bite their lip so much” a voice said behind you, you jumped from the suddenness of it before turning around and allowing a large smile to form over your lips before placing your drink on the bar and wrapping your arms around your tall boyfriends neck.

“Spence! You made it!” you said happily, though you had been together for over 3 years, Spencer Reid still seemed to give you the same butterflies like the first date you two ever had.

“Of course i made it Bug,” Spencer said, using his nickname for you, “wouldn't miss it even if i was dying” the agent said with a knowing smile as a scoff could be heard behind him causing Spencer and you to look at the intruder.

“He was almost dying when he was coming down the street,” a man said, he was black and tall and rather handsome, Spencer gave a shy smile as he walked over next to the man.

“These are my coworkers!” Spencer said a little nervously, you had a confused look on your face previously but now it was filled with excitement and elated happiness as you walked forward towards the group.

“So you guys are the people he keeps boasting on about!” you said happily as you stuck out your hand to the first man.

“Derek Morgan” the man said, you nodded as you shook his hand and a soft smile came over the man's face, this was Spencer's ‘big brother’ at the office. You moved to the next person.

“Emily Prentiss,” the girl said, she was sleek and had nice hair, you made a mental note to ask her about it later as you moved to the next person.

“Jason Gideon”, ah, so this was Spencer's mentor, you gave a knowing look at Gideons hands encapsulating yours in a warm and inviting way. Spencer looked at you greeting everyone with a profound happiness.

“Aaron Hotchner, but please just Hotch” the man said, you smiled.

“So youre the narcissist” you said with a wink as Hotch gave a small laugh as Spencer closed his eyes with a smile. You moved to the next person. She was rather round and had blonde hair and a brilliant red dress and blue cardigan on.

“Penelopie Garcia, i make sure your wonder boy over there makes it back alive to you” the girl said, you gave a laugh as did everyone else knowing it was a team effort but it was also a joke.

“Than i shall give all my thanks to you and bid everyone else, adew” you said with a tone of laughter, Garcia laughed with you as you moved to the final person, “you must be-”

“J.J., please” the girl said as she shook your hand for the final time, you nodded in respect, so this was the girl Reid fancied for like, an hour or something whenever it was he told you that point.

“Well, please let's get a booth and get to know each other!” you said with a smile as you grabbed your glass of liquor from the bar and walked to a previously reserved booth in the far corner of the bar.

“You shouldn't drink that drink you know,” Derek said from behind you, “you left it alone for two minutes, could be drugged” you smiled as yourself and the group piled into the booth.

“Then I am one hundred percent sure one of you would have told me” you said as you took a sip of your drink, Derek laughed as Garcia sat next to him and he wrapped an arm around her, you eyed them for a moment before letting it go. Spencer sat next to you as J.J. sat next to him, then the rest piled in.

“So (Y/n), tell us a little bit about yourself,” Hotch started as he took a sip of his beer, you cleared your throat as you looked to Spencer who nodded for confirmation.

“Well, um, I'm in a band,” you chuckled softly, “as you could see earlier I sing, we’ve made songs and practised them but we haven't been able to perfect them the way we want to start recording.” you took a moment, “um, i met Spencer a few years ago on our apartment roof-”

“EXCUSE ME,” Derek exclaimed with wide eyes, “you’re telling me pretty boy over here has had you as his little secret for a few YEARS?!”, Spencer chuckled.

“Three and almost a half to be exact Morgan” Spencer said with a shit-eating grin as he took a swig of your drink, you slapped him on the chest causing him to laugh.

“That’s my drink you prick!” you exclaimed with a smile, “anyway, um,” you shrugged with a laugh, “you guys are the ones who have profiling as a career you should be doing this to me not the other way around” you laughed as you looked to Gideon, the man smiled.

“You closed your eyes when you where up on stage,” Gideon started, “whatever you were singing meant alot for you to get so into it, you were looking around a lot when you where at the bar, you’re anxious”

“Of course i am, im meeting you guys for the first time,” you said with an awkward smile, okay, this was a little different than you expected.

“You also have been fiddling with a ring, signifying anxiety,” Hotch chimed in, “and biting your lip,” you pulled your lip from in between your teeth and looked at the table.

“Alright enough,” Spencer said a little harsher than he intended, “can we just, drop the profiler job for tonight and just be like normal friends?” he asked agitated, this sparked your eye and you gave Spencer a glance, he glanced back as reassurance.

“(Y/n), where do you work?” Garcia asked as a waitress brought her another drink with a little pink umbrella, you smiled as she broke the ice.

“Other than in a band I work in a vintage antique store, one of those really old ones?” you smiled, “i got Spencers first gift from that shop actually,” you smiled at the memory.

“Oh here we go,” Spencer said from beside you as he clasped his eyes shut and smiled.

“Please can i tell them!?” you exclaimed.

“Yeah go on,” Spencer said as he looked back to you and gave you a kiss on the lips.

“Woah I didn't know pretty boy ever kissed anyone, besides that one girl?” Derek said, he trailed off at the end forgetting the girl's name.

“Lila” J.J. said softly.

“Yeah Lila, the actress” Derek said.

“ANYWAY,” you exclaimed trying to get back onto the story, Derek smiled as an apology as you continued the story, “obviously Spencer here loves books,” you started, “but since he can read 20,000 words a minute there was no way i was going to get his first date present a goddam book he’d read in like an hour, so,” you smiled towards Spencer who was trying to suppress his laughing, “i got him an antique music box, i just happen across it one day when i was leaving the shop. It was sitting right on the bench, waiting for me, i opened it and started winding the handle,” you smiled as Spencer looked down at you with love and adoration, “i didn't recognise the song at first but,” you looked around the table, “you know when you get that sudden feeling, when you hear something and you just suddenly understand what it was and what it was saying?” you asked, Emily, Garcia, Hotch; all the team nodded with a knowing look, “well, it was like that. The music box was the song I played on the stage tonight, Hallelujah, and instantly I knew I had to get it for him” you heard a sniffle on the table as Garcia was wiping at her eyes.

“I’m fine! Stop looking at me like that” the girl said with a smile, “it's just really sweet”

“And this was a first date present?” Emily asked from the side, this time Spencer nodded and answered.

“I had asked (Y/n) out a week prior and we decided we just wanted it to be a nice coffee date and walk in the park, when the time finally came i bought their favourite flowers from the shop, gave them to her and then she pulled out a lovely little bag with a package in it and said ���this is for you’.” Spencer smiled, “when i went home that night and finally looked at the present, i had the same feeling as (Y/n) did, i didn't recognise the song at first but when it got to that one single word i knew, i knew (Y/n) was the one i wanted to marry one day,” the team around you guys smiled as their favourite profiler finally got the break he deserved in life. “I called (Y/n) right after i finished listening to the music box in a mess of tears and instantly asked for a second date, luckily i was charming enough to get another one” Spencer said in a joking manner as he rubbed his finger nails on his button up shirt as yourself and Emily pushed Spencer jokingly causing everyone to laugh.

“You seem to have it all setup then Ried” Hotch said from the side, Spencer smiled and nodded as he looked at you.

“I and my Annabelle Lee,” Spencer said softly, causing you to blush, a reference to one of his favorite poems by Edgar Allen Poe.

——————————————————————————

HI IF YOU MADE IT I HOPED YOU LIKED IT.

And I hope you saw my nod to MGG at that last sentence 👀.

This was unedited. Apologies.

[sloppy-butcher]

I saw your requests were open,if not I’m sorry :,). But can I get some hcs with Frank,Dwight (Jake and/or Quentin) with a s/o who’s a short curvier artist and is just insecure about themselves and their work? I’m just in sad boy hours rn lmao

please don’t ever feel sorry about sending in an ask

Sorry, it took as long, I can’t help with how much I write. Hopefully, this will help alleviate some of them sad boy hours. I’m going to assume that by “artist” you mean drawing and not like music soooo also im going to assume its a survivor S/O

i love you anon, thank you for the ask and sorry again for the wait

sad boy hours is offically declared OVER

HeadCanons with a short, insecure Artist S/O

The Legion (Frank Morrison)

Frank, in all honesty, doesn’t give a flying crap about how you look. To him, if you can make him laugh or you amuse him in the slightest, he already likes you. The only looks or appearances he does care about are his own, he’s gotta look badass 24/7, no exceptions. But he does like that you are shorter than him (not a lot of people are so you are a rarity). He likes to tease you and put his elbow on your shoulder or head.

“I need my walking stick.” His eyes would trail over to you. Cue you trying to walk around with the boy hanging onto you, grumbling like an old man. You contrasted him exactly to the T

Frank is absolutely fascinated by your artistic abilities. You have a real talent and he enjoys both watching your process and seeing the finished project. Talent like yours was hard to come by, he sort of envied you for it. If only he had that kind of something that made him special that would have made those foster parents interested in him. But that time for developing uniqueness has passed and now, all he has is you.

You shared your talent with him and he felt extremely special when you would ask him what to sketch next. Frank would pull Suzie over and set her up in a position he imagines to be cool. He would pause, inspect Suzie’s bad form then huff and begin to rearrange her limbs until she was just right. “That's nice.” He’d comment over your shoulder. You’d tell him you didn't like being watched like that while you work and he’d sigh and reluctantly shuffle away. Not even 5 minutes later he would be back standing over you. You would just have to deal with him. He wasn’t judging you or your skills rather he just wanted to watch and marvel at how easy you made it look.

“Okay, now give her a huge dick.” Both Suzie and you would gasp. “Frank! No! That's too disgusting.” A moment of silence. “How big?”

Frank noticed right away when you would start to feel insecure. When you would flatly refuse to take out your sketchbook regardless of what ridiculous poses Suzie would make for you. You were quiet, eyes downwards and shoulder slumping as if you were trying to make yourself somehow smaller than you already were. Frank’s by no means an emotional guy but seeing you so downtrodden, so determined to sink into the background really tore at his heartstrings. He would pull you aside, taking you far away from the others until you two were alone. You wouldn’t look at him, your arms wrapped around yourself. “It’s not just the art.” He was guessing but already he knew he was right. You wouldn’t even offer him a nod afraid that by doing so you would be labeled as someone digging for feigned sympathy.

This was so difficult for Frank. He didn’t know how to comfort you or how to make you feel better. He also didn’t understand where this sudden insecurity came from. To him you perfect and talented and such a good person. You had a kind heart which you would share with those around you and that's all he really cared about. You were good to him. He couldn’t think of anything to say so instead he walked closer to you and slowly placed your hand between his. You momentarily looked up at him and you saw his eyes flicker behind his mask. He squeezed your hand, his words failing but his contact and pressure making up for it. He was trying to be reassuring and you appreciated it. He’d only ever hold your hand and that was something to be gratefully for.

In that time alone he asked you to take out your sketchbook. You did and he steps away, releasing one hand from yours. He reaches up and hesitantly takes off his mask. “Draw me.” You were stuck, in awe of his face and the significance of this moment. Frank never takes his mask off, not completely anyway. This must really mean something to him, YOU must really mean something. A wave of unsureness washed over you and you lost all confidence in your skill. He saw you slip away again and he squeezed his hand. “Hey.” He makes you look at him, his face gentle and his attention focused solely on you. “I believe in you. You are good. You got this.” And that's all you needed to hear. You got the feeling that he was talking about more than just your drawing skills. If he believed in you then everything was okay. You were alright. “Besides. It can’t be worse than the original.”

Dwight Fairfield

Like Frank, Dwight doesn't really care about your outward appearances. Well, it's not that he doesn't care it’s more that he just in a constant state of shock that anyone at all is interested in him. He’s always amazed when you sit next to him specifically or when you want to talk to him and actually listen to what he says. No one has ever really given him that kind of attention before and now you’re here beside him eagerly wanting to hear how his day was or what he was feeling. Dwight was just grateful to have someone as kind and loving as you were to even notice him.

He was beyond blown away by your artistic talents. You can sketch killers from memory and Dwight always finds himself in awe of how detailed and accurate the drawing was. You were so creative and special, the thing he was never. He looked to you and saw everything he could never be or never was. But you didn’t shove your achievements in his face, you didn't flaunt your talents like some egotistical morons would. You were humble and his compliments never went straight to your head. You looked so good when you were kind and modest. He liked how ordinary you were regardless of how awesome you appeared to him.

You’d often ask to draw him and he would blush and look away. Why would you want to draw him? The most boring of all the other survivors. But you were insistent and eventually, he’d cave. If only you had a red pencil because his cheeks were always hot and flushed. He could never make eye contact with you while you worked on him so expect a lot of side profiles or closed eye portraits.

In trials together his heart would all but break at the sight of you getting hurt. Whenever he’d hear your cries as you’d be slammed onto a meat hook he would gasp and practically feel something inside him cry out along with you. You were too good for this. He was a nobody, a weak, pathetic nobody who deserved to be in this purgatory because he was too scared to try and live a normal life. This was his punishment for being so forgettable. But you... he just couldn’t understand it.

Once he had jumped between you and your pursuer taking the hit and aggression while you ran off to go heal. For once in his life he felt happy, he felt as if he had finally done something meaningful and good. He had saved you. He would have died for you as well but you never let that happen. He watched in utter shock and disbelief as, against all odds, you went back for him. You pulled the man off his hook and with shaking hands you pressed his head into yours. Both your foreheads with touching and you had your hand at the back of his head.

“Don’t ever do that again.” He felt you waver and suddenly he realized that you were scared for him. He felt your urgency and terror and it was all directed towards him and his safety. He could have cried.

Dwights not the brightest bulb in the pack so forgive him but it will take a while for him to realize that you were insecure. He just assumed that when you started isolating yourself from him that it was because you had found someone much better than him. But he noticed that your hands still shook whenever you’d see him in pain and you would always be by his side the moment he needed help. You still cared for him deeply and he could feel it through your desperate actions and your desolate expression.

He walked over to your spot at the campfire. No one was near you, all were chased away by your depressing aura. You were dark and dying, everything around you was heavy with despair and sorrow yet he pushed through it all. He clawed away that thick fog and finally came to rest by your side. You didn't even look at him as he approached.

“Y-You don’t draw anymore.” No response. He hesitated unsure of how best to comfort you. He looked over and saw your hands. They were so small and gentle yet they produced such amazing things. He missed seeing you alive as you worked, the happiest you had ever been. He reached out and took your hands in his. This was the most forward he had ever been with you and it caught you by surprise. You turned to face him and you saw pain in his eyes.

“I-I’m sorry.” he paused and looked away, ashamed. “I’m sorry I took so long to notice.”

Dwight really did feel sorry. He felt like he had abandoned you, leaving you vulnerable and alone with the true killer; yourself. This time you felt his hands shake.

Dwight wasn’t much but he was yours and he loves you. And he loved you so much to maybe even make up for your own lack of self-love. You sighed and rested your head on his shoulder. He was enough.

“Please draw me again. I-I promise I won’t look away this time.” How could you refuse him?

Jake Park

Jake’s a simple man. He knows the silence of the world and prefers it to the company of people. So when you start to hang out with him or show interest in his life he is pretty unresponsive. He expected you to eventually lose curiosity in him and leave him alone with the woods. But you didn’t.

You’d follow him around, asking questions and receiving minimal answers. You would ask him what to draw and when you were done he would just glance at the sketch then nod or huff. He was certainly a very difficult and cold man.

You would draw many things for him, be it crows or plants or sometimes even killers. And he would always show an extreme lack of interest in them. So you decide to stop showing him. The two of you would sit in a quiet spot in the woods, you sketching and him wondering why you were still trying so hard to be friends with him.

You were working on a portrait when you were, without warning, whisked off into a trial. You quickly shoved your art into your pocket and set to work trying to escape. Jake was in the trial with you and you gladly worked on gen with him. Minutes later everyone was dying and only 2 generators had been lit. It wasn’t looking so good but the only thing you were worried about was your precious item in your pocket. It was something that you were really proud of and, to be dead honest, it was one of the best pieces of art you had made in a long time. You were afraid to die and lose it. But... it really didn’t look like you were getting out of this one.

You caught Jake in a corner, injured but not making a noise. You approached him and he reached out ready to tend to your wounds. You shook your head and crouched next to him trying to catch your breath. Your hand went into your pocket and pulled out your folded artwork. he eyed it unsure.

“I know you don’t care about my bad drawings but,” you held it out for him to take. “please, this one’s for you.” You quickly ran off, too embarrassed to be there when he opened it.

He was frozen for a moment, confused as to what just happened. He did care about your drawings. You were talented and he really enjoyed when you included him. Why would you think that he wouldn’t like them? He turned his attention back to the paper. With a bloody hand, he carefully unfolded it and was shocked to find a portrait of him. It was so beautiful, delicate lines used to define his face and his far-off expression and for a second he couldn’t believe it was him. It was so well done. How could you be ashamed of showing him this? He loved it. He looked up and saw you run off and his heart run with you. He was suddenly hit with his suppressed love for you. You were patient and kind and your small stature always made him wonder how anyone could hurt something so cute. He escaped that trial along with your picture. He, unfortunately, couldn’t save you.

Later at your spot in the woods, he approached you. He presented your art and you gasped. “How’d you get that!?” You reached out to take it back. “I’m sorry! It’s...” your cheeks flushed with embarrassment. He must think you are such a creep, drawing bad pictures of him without his knowledge.  You clutched the paper to your chest and felt a wave of hot insecurity flood over you. But Jake never let you drown.

“It’s really good,” Jake said, his voice the most emotional and vibrant it had ever been. “I’m sorry if I never expressed my appreciation of it.” He put a hand on your shoulder. “You’re really good... to me. And,” he paused letting go for a moment and taking a deep breath. “I’m sorry I’ve been so distant. Thank you for sticking around.” It wasn’t much but it was the best he could do. There was a deep-rooted honestly in his confession and it pulled at your heart.

It wasn’t enough to make you feel better but it was a start. With Jake, it is a journey of recovery, not a once-off end-all fix. But he was good at consistency and was always there the moment your fears reared their ugly heads. He was warm and solid, grounding both himself and you in the world.

[sugakookielix]

Hello could I have a written ship with bts?

I was born on 9 July 1998, I am 1.66m long, brown eyes, brown hair that i change the color of when im bored xD. Im balkan (eastern European) but was born in a western country The Netherlands. So i have seen and experience both but at home I grew up with traditional eastern European parents that are strict. I have a natural talent in all Music, art & sports. Music, art and dance have been a passion of mine sinds I was born. I'm hypersensitive so i feel and pick up alot in my surroundings. Im a person that believes in the spiritualworld. I have been trough too much traumatic and non traumatic experience in all parts of life. Because of all the negative experience that a 22 year old shouldn't have experience it took me years to even see my life as something that is worth it and to see myself as someone who is strong. I am a person who is there for you and listens and I need this back. I'm afraid to be left alone or to be forgotten (yeezz sounds depressing) I only show my deepest emotions and thoughts to people who I really trust. I try to always be the happy person In the group because I know people need a distraction from their thoughts. Im open, honest and direct.

I'm so sorry that I wrote so much. > . <

Thank you so much.

Take care and be safe!!

~~

OMG I forgot a few things sorry!

I’m a female xd

I dislike people who easily judge. Who do not respect others opinion.

I like people who have a diversity of music taste. I love gaming besides listening and making music, arts and dance.

My style is whatever I want it to wear but mostly alternative styles. Doesn’t matter if its very feminine or more on the tomboyish style.

I have a couple of facial piercings.

Little bit longer than shoulder length wavy hair (trying to grow it out but so difficult xD)

My ult bias is suga.

Don’t have an ideal date. I enjoy just being around someone at home or outside.

:D

Once again thank you!!

_________________________________________

Gifs are not mine!

Who I ship you with:

You want someone you can trust with your deepest emotions and Yoongi is definitely that person. Even if he is unable to understand what exactly you have been through or what is going on in your mind, he does understand. You don’t need to hide your emotions from him because he will never judge you and will always be there to support you, no matter what it is. While he admires the fact that you try to serve as a distraction for people, he doesn’t want you to do that around him. He wants you to be open and honest with him and in turn he will do the same. He is someone who doesn’t open up easily either so trust is a huge factor in your relationship. He trusts that you will be open with him and that you will support him and he wants you to expect the same. He understands your fears of being left alone and will always assure you he will be there. He will keep his phone on so you can call him whenever you need, he will do his best to be there for you. He will never judge you. Unfortunately, since he is so busy a lot of your dates would be last minute visits to his studio where you two could bond over music. Or if you don’t want to talk to him and just do your own thing while he works, that’s fine as well. 

His favorite things about you: Your passion for music, you being there for him, your style choices

First date: He wanted to use your first date as a chance to show you more about him so it was the first time he brought you to his studio. He was a bit nervous the entire time, but you both enjoyed it a lot. 

Mini Scenario:

You had to admit, you were a bit nervous. This wasn’t your first time in the BigHit building, but this was going to be your first time inside of the Genius Lab. The place that Yoongi often locked himself in so he could work in peace, and a place that very few people ever saw. Needless to say, you had been absolutely shocked when he texted you asking if you wanted to come hang out for a bit. A part of you was still unsure of whether or not you were dreaming. 

Before you knew it, you were standing in front of the door debating whether or not you should knock. Perhaps it would just be easier to text Yoongi and let him know you were there? That way you wouldn’t be disturbing his work, right? Apparently you took too long to ponder over it since the door opened and you were met with a tired looking Min Yoongi. 

“Don’t be afraid to knock or ring the bell next time,” he said with a soft chuckle, stepping to the side to let you in, “I was waiting for you anyways.” As it turns out, you weren’t the only one who was nervous. Since this was the first time that Yoongi was letting anyone in that wasn’t one of his group members. 

You cautiously stepped inside and looked around the area a bit, “Wow, this looks nice Yoongi!” He blushed a bit before nodding softly, rubbing at the back of his neck. 

“It’s alright,” he muttered as he sat down at his desk, “you can go ahead and have a seat if you want. I was just finishing up this one track real quick.” He turned back to his computer before pausing for a moment, “If you like, you can listen to it after I am done?”

You froze for a moment before asking, “Are you sure? It’s okay if you don’t want me to hear it.” Yoongi quickly shook his head and turned around so he was facing you again. 

“I don’t mind really,” he said, not making eye contact when he spoke, “I actually invited you here because I wanted your opinion on it since I know how much you like music. Also because I wanted to show you what I do.” You couldn’t help but smile at that, standing up and walking over to him. 

“You’re adorable,” you said as you rested your hand on his shoulder, “if you want me to listen to it then I will gladly do so. Is it okay if I watch you work?”

Yoongi blushed a small but before nodding, “Um...Sure if you want to.” He motioned to the extra chair he had and you quickly pulled it over to his desk before sitting down beside him. The both of you smiling softly as he turned to the computer and clicked on the track.

Hope you like it! Descriptive ship requests are currently CLOSED!

[lgchunji]

✧ .・゜゜trainee mission 004, rap performance; i hate performing

     no one will even remember you.      you’re going to be great!      well, did you practice hard?      you’re already the bestest!!!      what if they laugh at you?      agh. . .      hunji took a deep breath. he felt his stomach turn over, like after a meal meant for two being swallowed all at once. he could not pay attention to the other performers. he could not pay attention to anyone at all. the room spun. his head spun.      hunji took a deep breath. he wobbled whilst sitting down. his insides all spun and spun and spun. his head rolled around to whatever rhythm was around him. it spun. he spun. he felt something coming up in his throat-

     “chwe hunji?”      he looked up. he gagged. his eyes were wide. he swallowed what was in his cheeks and nodded.      he slowly stood up like newborn giraffe. in the silence of the room, he bent down, with vascular, shaky hands, grabbed his water, and sipped. just a little sip to get the acid out from his mouth. his stomach churned sour milk. he swore he had not eaten all day. why was it acting up?      “chwe hunji, with haste.” they asked. hunji nodded. he could feel himself panting. sweat beaded on his head. he took to the middle of the room. a microphone, and a stand, perfectly at his height. his knees, beneath his layers of clothes, wobbled with his head.      for weeks he had been preparing. since he heard he would be performing, he worked hard day in and day out. the song, streetlight, was second nature to him now. he sang it in the car, on his jog, and in his sleep. he rapped. he sang. he mastered the music. at one point, it had become so easy, he made a quick remix of the chorus to keep his brain entertained.      he wore what he always did. his brown shoes, his dark blue jeans, his white button-up, a brown vest over it, and an orange-brown jacket on top. the shoes gave him an extra inch of height. the jacket was only a few inches from the ground but was left unbuttoned. his round, brown glasses truly made him look like a grandpa. he even had a scarf earlier in the day that was orange and brown plaid. he had to remove it as to not choke on his own vomit.      he was mentally prepared. he was physically comfortable. why did his stomach churn? why did it squeeze? it felt like a heart, pumping in and out in and out, swishing his insides to and fro. he could feel something rising. the song began.      he could hear the cracks. the little aches, the little sounds of the music. he swallowed. he put his head down. his forehead touched the mic. he closed his eyes. how could he bare anything when everyone was looking?      hunji took a deep breath.      “like a streetlight.”      it was the first time he ever sang in front of anyone-      “like a streetlight.”      -except his mother and sisters.      “after the end of a lonely day,      “standing vacantly. . .      a deep breath.      “in the middle of the lonely night,      “and try to smile brightly.”     he gently held the mic with two hands. everyone else puffed into ash. he only heard music. his eyes were shut tight. tight, tighter, until they stuck themselves in that position. his voice warmly embraced all who heard it. his voice was slow, melodic, and full. it was so full. it was so, so full. it was his song. it would carry him.      he squeezed the mic. his eyelids began to peel apart from one another. he looked ahead. where had the judges gone? there were empty seats around him. he leaned in closer he dropped one hand from the mic.      “i don’t want anyone to see how incredibly weak i am.      “to the people who relied on me, that’s a contradiction.      “acting strong, acting like i’m not hurting, acting like nothing is wrong,      “i just wanted to be someone else’s strength.      “i cant be the reason that they lose strength.”      i can’t be the reason that mom died.      “i don’t have the courage to make 'you can reply on me' the other way around,”      because then who would she have?      “the pain silently grows locked in a room in my heart without a way out.”      he gasped for air. he threw his hands down and scorched all before him with a fire in his eyes.      “when you hold it in as much as you can you grow numb to it,      “i guess i can still take more because i can still hold it back.”      his neck and ears were pink.      “a bandaid over a wound will always fall      “i put this on in a rush but it really fell off quickly.”      he gestured to his head.      “the rain water pools on top of this worn roof,”      he slid his hands down his front.      “and it knows me all too well, slipping in through all the cracks,”      he grabbed and yanked his own hair, one hand on the mic.      “i need someone before i collapse.”      the desperation in his voice rose,      “ask me again if i’m okay, please, anybody-.”      he ripped the mic from the stand and stepped aside. he hardly sang but cried for help,      he looked a judge in the eyes,      “like a streetlight,”      he hit himself in the heart as hard as he could. me, me, me.      “like a streetlight,”      he moved to the trainees on his left,      “in the middle of the lonely night, i still just look bright.”      then the ones in the back,      “at the end of a lonely day, “      and the kids along the right,      “standing vacantly. . .”      he stood up straight and his nose became red. he slowly turned to the judges. he stood on the other beside of the mic stand once more.      “in the middle of the lonely night, i try my best to smile brightly.”      his lips frowned. were they even listening? can you even hear me?      he lunged forward,      “unable to rely on anything,      “i chose to only rely on myself,      “by now that i’m shaking,      “who can i even hold on to for support?"      he gasped like he was drowning.      “in front of the shoulders i’d rested my hands on,      “my shoulders are now drooping even further, but,” he grabbed his hair. he spun away from the judges, “who cares?"      “i cant let it out,      he begged the trainees to listen,      “i cant let it all out,”      why weren’t they moving?      “and the pain i couldn't let out starts blaming me,”      was no one hearing him?      “when i keep breathing this,” his hand shot to the sky and he sang to god. no one else was listening.      “-stale air, it goes beyond being unconformable and im left gasping for air,”      his entire being drooped to earth.      “i end up bothered by things that shouldn't matter,”      “and they end up mattering even though they shouldn't.”      he turned to the judges. where else was there to go?      “even though peoples eyes aren’t on me their gazes sting,”      “thinking they might keep watch and see the expression ive kept hidden slip out,”      a true, honest, look at the trainees beside him. he stared.      “im afraid, yeah, im afraid.”      he stood straight. his head stared forward but his eyes fearfully shut. he shook his head. he looked down as his back-up, pre-recorded self took his place.      why am i even doing this? why am i here? mom’s gone. the girls are fine. no one likes me. i don’t like anyone. i hate performing. i HATE performing. i’ll never debut and i’ll never make money and i’ll never be happy but isn’t that just life. . . it’s my turn.      “like a streetlight,”      no one listens.      “like a streetlight,”      and it’s okay.      “in the middle of the lonely night, i still just look bright,”      he looked up. he opened his eyes. the pre-recorded vocals joined him.      because someone has to listen. someone will know. someone has to know.      “at the end of a lonely day,”      his voice rose.      “standing vacantly. . .“      can someone hear?      “in the middle of the lonely night,      “i try my best to smile brightly.”      it’s okay, hunji, i can hear you. you’re doing amazing. is there anything you want to talk about?      hunji’s eyes welled up. his face reddened and he scrunched his nose.      “like a streetlight,      “like a streetlight,      “in the middle of the lonely night, i still just look bright      “at the end of a lonely day,      “standing vacantly. . .      “in the middle of the lonely night      “i try my best to smile brightly.”      he moved around the room, begging someone to listen. there were clear streams running from his eyes. his lips were already puffy. his voice was still smooth. he shouted with the song, as he rehearsed, but it was so, so, fully different. he shouted accusations to the world. to an empty corner of the room, where no one could turn away, he begged,      “like a streetlight,      “like a streetlight,      “in the middle of the lonely night, i still just look bright      “at the end of a lonely day,      “standing vacantly. . .”      a weep.      “in the middle of the lonely night      “i try my best to smile brightly!”      and with a frown on his face, sweat in his hair, and his organs depressed, the song came to an end. he took a deep breath. his eyebrows furrowed. his eyes drilled into the piles of ash that slowly rose to form humans again. he was angry enough to scream and those who held the future in his hands and he did not at all care.      he turned to them. a small applaud came from the other kids. it was much quieter than the other claps other trainees got. he half-bowed, eyeing all those in charge. image be damned, he had something to say. he would never regret his performance.      “thanks.”      he put the mic back. he took his seat. his stomach was too exhausted to move. everyone knew everything; what was there to toss and turn over?

word count (not including lyrics): 1,192 word count (including lyrics): 1,702 points: +6 lyrics, +3 notoriety

[writingsbymo-mo]

Oof I haven't done this before but may I get a villain matchup? Im 19, 5'5, and I have dark green eyes and big curly blond hair. My hobbies are archery, listening to music, playing video games and camping. I freaking loove sweet food so much I can literally eat an entire tub of ice cream by myself. I'm generally a chill person but I become a crackhead when i'm excited lol. I'm also hella stubborn and I have a preetty dark sense of humor (1/2)

I don't like relying on others but I love it when people rely on me because I like helping people, It makes me feel useful. I hate people who act like they're better and smarter than everyone else, it's a super big pet peeve of mine. I'm getting better but I do struggle with depression and psychosis sadly. Im also not good at expressing affection, like I am physically incapable of telling someone I love them aksnskj. I kinda come off as intimidating but I just have a resting bitch face lol (2/2)

Hope you're alright being matched with the one and only Moth Shig!!! I'm sorry this took so long for me to finally finish and I really hope you like it.💕💕

You were out camping in the woods one night when some strange winged creature swooped down, staring in awe at the fire you made. Getting a better look at the figure, you noticed feather-like protrusions sticking from the top of the creatures head, four arms, and a set of massive, dark wings. It was a mothman. He stepped closer to the roaring blaze with his four arms, reaching towards it. You cried at him not to touch it, blocking his path at getting any closer. His ruby, but eyes stare shift towards you as he chatters. He flew into one of the nearby trees, watching you carefully. It was getting rather late anyway so you put the fire out. You didn't know his name or if he even had one. It seemed when you had awoken, he left. You weren't sure where he went or if you were hallucinating last night. Packing up everything, you left the site and returned home.

That evening, you sat in your kitchen eating ice cream when something or someone came through your open window, stumbling to the floor. It was the mothman. He sniffed the air, until he came face to face with you. "It's...you...you saved me," he mumbled, tickling your forehead with his antennae.

Your green eyes widened, spoon still in your mouth as you just stared at this mothman. 'It...wasn't a dream?'

"Thank....you...," he muttered while nuzzling your face.

In the next moment, he introduces himself and you offer up some ice cream considering he kept his eyes shifting between you and the tub of the frozen, sweet cream. He's hesitant until he tries a spoonful, moving his antennae and wings gracefully. He absolutely loves it and he's sure to want more. Know, he doesn't eat often but he loves sweet foods like fruit so he'll definitely love the fact you really like sweets as much as he does.

Moth Shig doesn't mind that you have difficulty expressing affection or telling him how you really feel about him. He's always happy to be in your company through your highs and lows. His antennae always alert him when something is wrong and he's always there when you need him.

Not to worry about dark humor, Moth Shig finds joy in it too. When you introduced it to him, he never realized what he was missing out on. Now, he's always looking forward to seeing more. Moth Shig himself is prone to using sarcasm and dry humor quite often when he's in certain moods. He's always happy when you get his humor too.

He's not used to human technology very much. The first moment he walked in on you playing video games, the flashing lights in some of them put him in a trance. It's like the fire situation all over again, except, it's just him getting attracted to the bright screen. When he's used to it after a while, he's finally able to just sit and watch you play. Offer him a controller or the keyboard to play for the first time and you've got him hooked. He gets really competitive with you and takes great pride when he wins. If you win, he can get grumpy over it and make a chittering noise. Though, seeing how excited and happy you are from the win makes him stop for a moment to smile.

Moth Shig isn't the best at grooming himself, though he might try his best shot at grooming you. Sure, he grooms himself when he feels the need to, but he sometimes will try to clean your mouth and parts of your hair like himself. It's one way he feels bonded to you.

Moth Shig enjoys it when you help him, especially with learning more about humans, technology, and even helping him with his general fear of humans. He never had a good experience with humans growing up so just letting him talk about it helps him. He's very curious about everything and will often ask a lot of questions or be in need of assistance.

Not long after he started staying with you as a permanent resident, he built himself a nest on the floor of your room with all the blankets, pillows, and clothes he could find. He was so happy to show it to you when he finished it. This is often where he sleeps and even has you join him in the nest to comfort you. It's the place he feels most safe in and he hopes to share it with you for as long as he can.

He truly cares for you and will go out of his way to return a favor whenever you help him. It's just that he wants to thank you for being so nice to him when others haven't been in the past. And if you ever go on a camping trip again, he's always on the lookout for potential dangers to keep you safe. He also tries to keep his eyes off the fire (though the small lamps you brought are enough to keep him occupied).

He truly does love you with all of his heart and will show you each day. You've done so much for him. It was something unexpected with now having a mothman living with you. He was someone who'd always be with you, protect you, and love you.

[wind0wg0blin]

Monster kink meme for strength with a yautja please

[OKay this only vaguely fits this theme but I have had art block like a mother fucker for the last week now and its making me depressed as shit so have this starting a spicy yautja] 

You had started going to the gym in your spare time justbecause you needed a way to get out the extra energy that came with having towork a desk job. You mostly went just to walk on the treadmills and listen tosome music or watch a few episodes of a show you had fallen behind on.

It was one day where you had come in early in the morningthat you found out that this was one of the few gyms on station that was equippedto handle Yautjas, Engineers and other larger species.

Walking through the main area you had planned to head rightto the cardio center as you always did. Though things went array when animpossibly loud clank of metal on metal made you drop your phone it skiddingacross the floor to land at the feet of a large Yautja. Said Yautja stopped midcurl up to glance down at the phone then up to you as you feverishly apologizedas you reached to grab your phone.

You jumped back when he dropped his weights on to the rackin front of him and grabbed your phone looking it over in his hand.

“U-Uh Im so sorry to have bothered you Ill just take mythings and-“

“Calm down, Im just making sure its not broken.” He huffedas he held it out to you in a way that forced you to touch his hand. Albeitawkwardly you thanked him taking your phone nodding slightly as you made toleave and just never return to this gym.

Though your escape plan was immediately thwarted when heside stepped and blocked your exit looking you over with an almost judgmentalglance.

“How come you always hide in the cardio room.”

‘What the hell kind of a question is that?!’ you thoughtyour face clearly displaying your burst of emotion as the yautja recoiledattempting to back track.

“No, why do you only go in the cardio room” He tried tocorrect himself but you were already uncomfortable and upset so you just shovedpast him throwing him aside with a hard check from your hips. It wasn’t enough toput him to the ground but enough to surprise the alien as they stumbled turningand watching you storm off in a flurry of emotions.

You had avoided the gym as a whole for almost a week at thatpoint and you were starting to feel antsy.

You had attempted to do some at home workout videos in yourliving room though after almost sending a vase flying doing jumping jacks you decidedto just face the fact you kinda needed the gym and that guy could just mind hisown.

Despite this false sense of confidence, you purposefully didn’tgo until it was later at night when most places were closed and thusly mostpeople were in their rooms or at work. Stepping out of the locker room youglanced around thankful to see that no one was in there except for some girl doingyoga in the corner.

Nonetheless you kept your head down as you speed walked tothe cardio center striding into the secluded room with a sigh of relief. Thiswas short lived as you glanced up and immediately felt your self deflate.

‘You have to be fucking joking me’ you thought as the sameyautja from the other day was sat on a bench seemingly waiting for you to walkin.

You spun on your heel already leaving wanting to cry at howshit your luck had been as of late when he called out after you.

For some reason you paused glancing back to see him joggingover to you holding his hands up defensively as your eyes were most likely shootingdaggers.

“I want to apologize for how I came off when we first met, Ipromise Im not actually an asshole im just really bad at social ques.” He saidholding his hands up apologetically.

You just nodded and made to keep walking away but he yetagain called out to stop you.

“You, you don’t have to leave ya know. Theres plenty of roomfor the both of us.”

“If I can be completely honest with you, you creep me thehell out and I don’t feel comfortable working out around you let alone beingalone in this room with you.” You said coldly as you walked out into the mainarea thankful the yoga lady was still in the corner.

It was a good thing too as the guy followed you looking likeyou had just shot him.

“Im sorry you feel that way. Is there any way I can fix that?”He asked as he easily caught up to you his strides equaling about three ofyours.

“Why do you care what I think?” you asked not reallyexpecting an answer though you should’ve know that rhetorical statements don’t translatewell.

“Its because I find you very interesting and I wish to getto know you better. As that’s why I asked you why you were only ever in thereas I was hoping to convince you to join me so I could get to know you.” Headmitted making you freeze up as he looked down at you with an almost pleadingexpression.

“How about we start over? My human name is Chopper whats yours?”He said holding his hand to you hoping you would accept his apology.

You sighed heavily as you took his hand and shook itmuttering your name under your breath.

“A beautiful name for a beautiful person.”  He complimented and you nodded slightly.

“Would you care to give me some pointers on the equipment inthe cardio center?” Chopper asked stepping back towards the center smiling backat you.

You glanced over at the locker room door before deciding againstyour better judgement and joining chopper.

You both actually had a good time as chopper was much morecareful with his words and watching him try to work an elliptical that was muchto small was, a little funny.

[Thanks for reading my shit writing lol] 

[peterpumpkinparker]

Dropping By- Peter Parker/Spiderman Oneshot

Hi guys! I know its been awhile and wow Ive missed this blog-hopefully this makes up for the 3 months of ghosting <3 Word Count: 800+ Genre: Fluff! Warnings: None!

You stared at your complexion in mirror, not truly happy with the person staring back. Did your hair look fine? Did you look under dressed? Over dressed? Was your makeup too much? Too little? Your head swirled with these unanswered question. You knew know matter how hard you tried, you weren't going to look perfect on this first date.

Peter Parker, your crush since you walked into his chem class and fate graciously put your seat next to his. Your crush since he helped you study for chem after your grades started to slip. Your crush after you realized he was the Spiderman. Your crush after 4 months of pining for him, had asked you out. You thought it was a miracle, but really, everyone knew it was meant to be- and by everyone, Ned and MJ. But he had asked you out to dinner, at some new Italian restaurant, and you calmly said yes even though you wanted to scream.

You smiled at yourself in the mirror, letting the happy memory wash of that day over you like sunlight in summer. You weren't sure you were ready for this date- the butterflies you had were practically eating your stomach from the inside out- but you weren't going to back out now.

You walked down to the living room, hearing your parents in the kitchen. It was almost a half an hour to your date- and you were hoping to give a pep talk to your parents to not make things awkward between you or Peter by asking embarrassing questions. But, to your confusion, your parents looked like they were leaving- when they specifically said they would be home.

“Whatcha guys doing?” you asked casually, cautiously watching your mom pack makeup into her purse.

“Oh, y/n, you look so nice,” your mom complimented, her voice leaving a trace of guilt.

You grabbed a water from the fridge, your hand shaking from nerves.

“Are you going somewhere?” you asked before gulping down water.

Your dad sighed, giving your mom a sidelong look. “Y/n, were sorry, but you cant go on your date tonight.”

You felt your heart drop down to your stomach as shock filled your system. Almost choking on water, your voice cried out, “Why?!”

Your mom gave you a sad look, explaining,” Your father forgot he had a company get together tonight, and he promised he would be there, and he can only get in with a plus one.”

“Its required I have a partner with me to get in,” your dad further explained, “some fancy restaurant or something like that- I know it sounds stupid,” he added, seeing your clearly reproached face, “but your mother and I have to go. And you have to hold down the fort while were gone”

You looked between your parents, hoping for a crack in their faces, a way to wiggle in and get what you both want, but there was no way in.

“So- no date?” you asked helplessly.

“Im sorry, y/n, but- no date.” you mother answered, her voice stern but sympathetic.

You sighed, filling your disappointment replace the excitement. “Guess I'll go call Peter.”

“Alright,” your father called out from the front door, “tell him were very sorry- we'll be back around 9!”

Your mother gave you a quick hug, and after your good byes and the slam of the door, the emptiness of the house made you somehow sadder than before. You didnt want to call him- the dread of letting him down, or him thinking your backing out made you feel guilty. But you found yourself finding his number in your phone, and clicking the call button, the ringing sound making you chew on your nails from nerves.

Peter picked up surprisingly quickly, making the butterflies come back from the sound of his hello.

“Hey Peter,” you sighed, dreading to tell him the news.

“Hey y/n!” he said rushed, as if he had been running for a while, the sound of wind making his voice sound fuzzy. “Im almost there, dont worry, I just gotta couple blocks to go-”

“Are you being Spiderman right now?” you asked, a smile sneaking onto your lips.

“Uhhhh-why you ask that?”

“Cause- I can hear Karen through the phone,” you stated with a smirk, waiting for his reaction.

“Crap!”you heard him curse, making you laugh even though the guilt was eating in your stomach.

“Yeah… I am,” he admitted, “but Im gonna change in the alleyway next to your house- so your parents wont think Im some crazy person when I come to pick up.”

You sighed, burshing your hair to the side. “Peter- Im so sorry to say this, but- you cant come over.”

“Wait- whats wrong y/n?” he asked, hurt in his voice, making your heart ache.

“Nothing, its just, my parents have some stupid company party to go to, and they need me to “hold down the fort”, you said with air quptes, not remembering Peter couldnt see them, “so- the dates cancelled.”

“I really was excited, Pete, I was,” you put in after, rushing your words to hopefully fix any wound you caused him.

“Me too,” he replied after a small silence, his voice smaller than usual.

‘Next week,maybe?!” You hated hearing him sound dejected, so to compensate, you tried to make your voice sound hopeful.

“Kay?” you asked him, hoping he would forgive you for doing this to him.

“Kay,” he repeated, his voice still sounding as if you just dumped him.

“Im so sorry about this Pete.”

“Its not your fault- Ill see you later, I guess. Night y/n.”

“Night.”

You sighed, laying on your bed, hoping the tears trying to crawl up would go away.

“Well,” you concluded to the ceiling, “that didnt go as well as I hoped.”

With no plans for the night, you decided to just do what you usually do on a normal night- blast music and try to do some homework. The night was just about to come, twilight coloring  your room with a burst of golden hues. It was beautiful, you had to admit, and again you felt a pang of longing to be with Peter

.It had been an hour of lonely listening to your depressing playlist of sad songs when a sudden knock was heard on your window. You jumped, a scream escaping your mouth as you instantly turned off your playlist.

You craned your head at the window pane, trying to see who the intruder was, but only a pink and orange sky greeted you. You stepped off your bed gingerly, and as you opened the window to investigate the strange sound-Out of nowhere, a red object whipped out from above the window, making you scream until you realized who it was.

“What the hell!?” you yelled, laughing off the fright.

“Im sorry, Im sorry!” Peter unhinged himself from his upside down position, the piece of webbing flying away in the breeze as his feet made contact with your small terrace.

You smiled, nervousness attacking your stomach. “Its okay,” you asked after brushing your hair out of your face- “why are you hear?”

You watched Peter shuffle a little with his feet, his broad shoulders blocking your sight of the railing of the terrace.

“Well, I felt bad that we couldnt- ya know, go out or anything-” he fumbled, “so….” He took a pause, looking at you so intently with those bug eyes on his red mask you felt a little unnerved- like he was staring right into you.

“Uh-Why dont you just close your eyes,” He finally said, the nervousness coming through in his voice. You were confused, so you took his outstretched hand with a suspicious smirk, and you laughed at the ticklish feeling his hand left on yours as he led you out your window.

“Okay, “ he counted, “one..two...three.”

You opened your eyes, and when you did, you were met with the sight of a mini picnic, complete with even a little bouquet of flowers with your favorite Italian food laid out on take out plates. It was the cutest thing you had ever seen, and you didnt know how to react to such a sweet gesture.

You stared at it, shocked- how could you be with someone so sweet and caring?

“I mean, its not much-” he began to ramble as if he was embarrassed about the cheesiness of it, “but I figured since you would be home you might want to hang out here- its okay if you dont but I just  thought maybe Id come hang out with you instead of going somewhere so I picked up the food I hope you like the flowers some lady sold them to me on the-”

You laughed, kissing his cheek to make him stop- you knew if you didnt do something, anything, hed probably go on that nervous rant for hours.

“Its perfect.” You smiled at him, happiness filling up in your eyes.

Peter felt relief envelope his body. He wished he wasn't so awkward around you, but you didnt care if he rambled, or accidentally scare you half to death. You were so sweet and funny and new him so well and man, you looked so pretty at this time of day, he wish he could take a picture of you and keep it forever. He sighed, relishing the feeling of your hand in his.

“Wait-” you interrupted his thoughts, “how are you gonna eat?” You pointed at the obvious mask covering his face.

“Oh!” He thought, feeling dumb for not thinking of that and maybe changing before he decided to knock on your window.

He quickly fumbled with his mask, bringing it above his nose so all you could see was a wide grin.

“Better?” he asked.

“Much better,” you smiled, and kissing his  cheeck again you yelled: “Lets eat!”

I hope you guys liked this! I havet been active (like at all) so I hope this makes it up! :)

Taggings:

@fratboievans @grandmascottlang @galaxy-parker @hollandroos @honeymoonparker @hazsterfield @itsholyholland @naturallytom @starksparker @underoosstark @uglypastels @underoos-shield @petersshirts @revengingbarnes @th3n3rdyon3 @just4muggles

[swimmingafterdark]

a fools guide for not wanting to die anymore

* (i dont want to die anymore, here is how i did it) *

1. never make a suicide joke again. im not fucking kidding around. you need to make an effort to change how you think about things. its okay to mess up or slip up, but everytime consciously think to yourself or even say outloud “that is not funny and i shouldnt be joking about something so serious”

2. you know what, fuck it no more self deprecating jokes. no more “i suck” or “im not worth it” or whatever we arent doing that anymore. even if you are joking, your brain and soul do not know the difference. your brain and soul still believe it, and it keeps up the cycle. it doesnt mean you cant make fun of yourself, just work to do so more positively. (example: when i draw a picture i dont one hundred percent like, instead of saying “my art is trash” i replace that with “you know i think its time we replace the mona lisa” you make a joke but you still build yourself up.)

3. manifest success,

4. come up with goals even if they are silly or trivial

5. if you see something you like, say it out loud i dont care what the circumstances are. you walk down the street with your friends and someone walking in the other direction has cute pants you say it out loud, to your friends or the stranger i dont care. it doesnt matter how spastic you look it will help. compliment everything you see, at least 4 per day.

6. care more

7. get close to people. the more people you care about the better

8. hug more

9. kiss more

10. when you have intrusive thoughts, picture an edgy angsty 13 year old and tell them to go somewhere else

11. cut out negativity. take negative energy out of your life. you dont need it anymore. (evolving, involves eliminating)

12. lean on the people who care about you. (dont feel guilty about it, they love you, its okay)

13. try something new, as much as you need to remove energy you need to gain good energy. i recommend creating things or exercise whether its writing or doodling, or taking your dog for a walk.

14. drink tea and wake up early.

15. (the earlier you go to bed the better,) nothing good happens after 2 am.

16. interrupt your anxious thoughts with “what if everything works out” & “what if i end up okay”

17. find something you kinda want to do. whether its a city to travel to, or a small local band playing a show in your city, get your ass out of the house and experience something

18. get your ass out of the house. thats its own statement

19. the clock doesnt stop, if you give yourself time, things will change. this much is inevitable. if you want positive change you have to work for it.

20. the way things are talked about isnt usually the whole story. people love to talk about caterpillars becoming butterflies as if its just that easy, but in reality, in those weird little cocoons, a caterpillar completely dissovles itself into acidy goo. if you are a mess right now, if you feel alone in your bedroom in the dark late at night, acknowledge your goo, keep going.

21. meditate.

22. start small and build up.

23. work on your imagination, practice.

24. go outside when it rains (i cant explain this one, just do it)

25. if you want confidence and dont know how to get it, a really good way is to start with other people. walk into class and tell someone how pretty their hair is or take the time to notice how well the barista made your coffee. when you start seeing everyone as beautiful, at some point youll realize that you are everyone too.

26. listen to your parents favorite music, and if you dont like your parents try a friends.

27. crying is cleansing, dont be afraid to let loose

28. cleaning is cleansing, clean your room, dust your windows and fans, vacuum the carpet.

29. always look for pretty things.

30. if you feel guilty venting or ranting about things, ask your audience if they are in the space for it. if they say yes, great you’re good to go, if not you understand it isnt the best time. by asking this, your buddies will see that you are willing to respect boundaries as well as understanding their emotional needs.

31. stop making excuses

32. cry for help without guilt tripping or humor coating. its as simple as that.

33. practice moral honesty. tell people the truth, try not to hurt them.

34. you cant heal in the same environment that made you sick, get out get space.

35. if you cant say something out loud, understand that its okay, write it down.

36. stop knocking on doors from the past.

37. find one thing that brings you joy

38. chase joy forever.

39. dont waste one second.

40. tell people you love them/appreciate their presence in your life.

41. tell more jokes, even corny puns.

42. laugh at everything, even if its forced.

43. find something you can have faith in, and fall in love with it. (G-d, the Universe, Music, Science)

44. you cant take a bath, drink lemon water, and do a facemask to cure your depression, but that doesnt mean you shouldnt do those things.

45. eat your fruits and veggies

46. hang out with your mom (if you dont have one or like yours, make friends with a cool adult as a parental figure & hang out with them. it might sound weird but it was one of the best things i ever did. i love you kel)

47. put twice as much fabric softener in your laundry as you need (&dont forget a dryer sheet for the ol razzle dazzle)

48. change your bed sheets every week

49. drink more water

50. stop apologizing

51. rebuild in private

52. if you dont know who you are, honor this moment, you get to create yourself from scratch, take the time to create someone you would love

53. read more books

54. strip down, and look at yourself in the mirror, picture yourself covered in scars, picture your skeleton, and picture yourself decomposing in the ground

55. learn to be okay with being alone, but dont get too comfy

56. work harder to be mature

57. it only matters how you see you, not how they see you.

58. i know this is a lot, step by step you can do this

[specialagentlokitty]

Gibbs x daughter!reader - Not a reminder

Could I request a Ncis x reader: the reader is gibbs daughter and Kellys twin and since kelly and Shannon died shes depressed. She started cutting herself and sees herself as nothing but a reminder of her dead sister (If you're not comfortable writing about selfharm feel free to leave that out💕) She tries to hide it but Gibbs finds out and is heartbroken because he couldn't bear to lose another daughter. Please make it fluffy and comforting? Im sorry i request so much Gibbs daughter stuff😅💞💞 -anon 💕

The bandage around your arm stung a bit as it rubbed against the crest wounds but it was the safest way to keep them clean and hidden. Tonight you could take it off though.

Sitting on the autopsy table, you swung your legs as you leaned back on your hands. Ducky didnt have thing to do so you came to listen to his stories, they always made you feel a bit happier.

“(Y/N)? Are you sure your alright? You seem a bit sad.”

“Hm? Yeah Duck man I’m good.” You beamed.

He smiled and nodded, continuing his story about why England had kings and queens. It wasn’t easy to fake a smile, not at all but it was getting tiring, you couldn’t keep t up for much longer . Soon enough Gibbs came down, standing and listening for a bit as well until ducky spotted him.

“Ah Jethro, going home?”

“Yeah, it’s late and (Y/N) still needs to eat.”

Walking over you hugged Ducky, kissing his cheek before walking out. Waiting for Gibbs you absentmindedly swinging a bit the music coming through the earphone you had in. A few moments later he came out and you both stepped into the elevator.

“Hey dad, can we just go home I’m not really hungry.”

“When was the last time you ate?”

“A few hours ago.” You lied.

He peered down at you but nodded, of course he knew you were lying but he couldn’t force you to eat if you didn’t want to. The ride home was silent, your music flowed quietly through the car, not you were really listening to it. Gibbs opened the door for you, letting you step in first.

“Thanks.”

You begun to walk to your room, you grabbed some stuff and headed for the shower. Turning it on letting the steam fill the room, music playing just over the water, you stepped in giving the bloody bandage a look. Taking it off, the red cuts glared at you. Sighing, you took the blade and started to add more.

“This is what I deserve... it should have been me not her... I was supposed to be with mom that day... I hurt dad because I’m just a reminder of them both...” you mumbled.

Satisfied with the bleeding cuts, you placed the blade down. Rinsing the wounds, hissing in pain when the water it them. You got washed, stepping out, wrapping your arm back up and drying. Getting into a large hoodie and some shorts you walked out. Forgetting to take something with you.

“Hey dad.” You greeted as he walked into the bathroom.

You heard the door close, heading into your room you closed your door, flicking the lamp in you got comfy in bed. Turning it off, you closed your eyes, wounded arm tucked safly under your head the other resting on your elbow.

“(N/N)?” Your dad knocked.

“Yeah dad?”

“Can I come in?”

“Sure.”

The door opened and the big light was turned on but you didn’t bother to move from your spot, eyes still closed. You felt your dad sit near your head.

“What’s this?”

“What’s what?”

“Open your eyes.”

Groaning you did so, focusing on his hand where he held something small and metal. Your heart started pumping, of course you’d forget the blade.

“I don’t know.”

“(Y/N).” He warned.

Ignoring him, you turned over so he was facing your back, pulling the duvet further up.

“Are you hurting yourself?” He asked softly.

You shrugged, there was no point hiding it now but that didn’t mean you had to admit it either.

“(N/N) please..” he whispered.

“Yes...” your voice cracked.

“Sweetheart..”

He gently grabbed your arms, pulling you around into his chest where he held onto you tightly. His forehead pressed into the top of your head you felt a few tears drop there. It made you want to cry even more but you couldn’t.

“Why?” He asked.

“It’s just.. I.. I look at myself and I don’t.. I don’t see me dad.. I see kelly and I see mom and I see how far I’ve come... if shoudlnt be me or should be kelly here I was supposed to be with mom that day... I see them and if I see it you must see it as well and you try so hard to get past them and I’m nothing but a reminder and I know it hurts you every day to have a constant reminder of what happened...”

“No. No you aren’t a reminder, yes when I see you I see kelly and your mom, but it doesn’t hurt me. When I see you I see a strong, beautiful, kind, smart woman who came so far. I see my whole world, I don’t want to loose you as well. I couldn’t bare to to loose you, you are your own person and I love you for you.

Arms wrapping around his torso you held him tightly, face buried in his chest. His hand held the back of your head as he pressed repeated kisses to it.

“Will you stay with me?”

“Of course I will.”

Letting you get comfy, he got under the covers and held you to his chest. His head pressed into yours.

“We are going to see Ducky tomorrow okay? He can clean and make sure your cuts are okay, then us three will be talking about how to help you.”

“Okay.. dad?”

“Yeah (N/N)?”

“I love you.”

“I love you too sweetheart now go to sleep I’m here.”

[averygim]

hello all. you can call me cal or jeepers, which is my discord name and i think is funny tbh, but i mostly go by cal. my pronouns are they/them and ‘m in the est timezone. i’m a bit late to the game but i’m still v excited to introduce my child avery to ya’ll. below is a whole mass of text that’ll help you get to know this mess of a child. uwu it’s easiest to reach me on discord at jeepers creepers #5103, but i also try and respond as quick as i can to tumblr ims so it’s really whatever you prefer !!

basics

name: avery gim job: baker at peau d’amour age: twenty-five gender: cismale pronouns: he/him sexuality: grey-asexual / panromantic birthday: february 6th zodiac: aquarius personality type:  advocate | infj pinterest board: HERE

aesthetic

the haunting sound of a piano in a memory you can’t quite reach

a warm summer night spent watching fireflies dance among the trees

a bite of a fresh peach that leaves your mouth sticky and sweet

theme song: the 7th sense by nct u

hatred that will not go away and dreams that torture me the clock laughs at me, it does not give a single error i’m a mess, I don’t even know myself, my future is colored darkly i’m struggling, coloring this night even blacker in the irregularity that’s hard to understand there’s a story that’s deeply hidden eyes are being opened through this song your dreams are being read it’s being awakened from a deep sleep my seventh sense

positive & negative

affable ( adj ) : friendly, good-natured, or easy to talk to.

languid ( adj ) : (of a person, manner, or gesture) displaying or having a disinclination for physical exertion or effort; slow and relaxed.

versatile ( adj ) : able to adapt or be adapted to many different functions or activities.

candid ( adj ) :  truthful and straightforward; frank.

then

it begins when he’s four years old - this obsession in him. his parents couldn’t have expected that sending their son to piano lessons we enact such a wild passion in their small, quiet boy. it was hard to pick out at first. often, they would pick their child up from his lesson to find his small chubby cheeks stained with tears. his parents assumed he was simply being stubborn about learning the instrument. they would see the kids dragged to the lessons bemoaning their distaste to it to their parents and would tell each other “our boy is simply quiet with his dislike for it. he has never been a talker.” and  would keep taking him week after week. the piano teacher couldn’t enlighten them to what was going through their child’s mind in terms of why he seemed to work himself up into such a state. she explained to them that he seemed attentive whenever she would teach him and it was only until he started to practice on his own that the tears would begin. neither parties could get a word out of the child though he often seemed to calm fairly quickly post lesson, spending the car ride home pressing his small fingers into his thighs as though there was an invisible piano etched into his skin. at one point, his parents seemed to give in a bit to their uncertainty of how their child was doing, offering to take him out of the lessons. the aggressive shake of the four years old’s head and high squeaky voice insisting “ no, no !! “ was quite the surprise. it wasn’t until a year later, when he began to find his voice that he admitted to his piano teacher that he just loved piano so much, he couldn’t stop himself from crying whenever he got to play. the teacher passed this along to the parents with much amusement and relief.

the passion the young boy had for the instrument didn’t falter over the years, even as his peers turned to other extracurriculars and sports rather than the piano. his parents opted to get him a keyboard to set up in his room on his seventh birthday, still wary about how long he would remain content with the lessons. they had never enjoyed the instrument with such conviction when they were forced to take lessons growing up. it was, at least, comforting to know that their quiet child still enjoyed spending time doing kid things, such as playing outside, playing pretend and colouring. he even showed an interest in baking, which he often did with his grandmother, much to the disbelief of his father. still, he was a good child and despite the wariness his father had of allowing him to indulge in his more feminine hobbies ( he was very much stuck in the throws of toxic masculinity ), his mother and grandparents supported him fully in whatever he wanted to do. so during the week, he would go to his piano lessons and play with the neighbourhood kids outside. then, on the weekends, he would spend time with his mother’s parents, often baking some sort of treat with his grandmother and listening to his grandfather tell tall tales of his own childhood.

as he got older, his skill in piano progressed more and more. between his lessons and the studious way he practiced, he ended up participating in a variation of different concerts. by the time he reached his early teens, he was playing with the adult orchestra with nine years of lessons and experience under his belt. it was an astounding thing- to hear him play. it was as if this lazy, beautiful human was gifted with talent from the gods, but he wasn’t. he worked for his ability. countless hours pressing fingers into plastic keys. perhaps that is why, for his sixteenth birthday, his grandparents and parents pulled together the money to buy him a grand piano. it was then, upon walking into the home to find the piano gracing the room that used to be the den of their house, that he discovered he hadn’t quite outgrown his habit of crying when overwhelmed with emotion.

between creating compositions, practicing, baking with his grandma, and the hell that was high school, he didn’t have much time for anything else. he didn’t mind. he was content with his work, both with the piano and at school. he had a tendency to overwork himself within the confines of his piano room and bedroom between the two. this led to him developing a bad reputation of being a lazy and privileged individual who got away with sleeping in class. his peers saw him as someone favoured by teachers, when in truth it was simply because he’d had multiple discussions previously with them about being awake in class. many of them had agreed to let it slide so long as his grades were maintained. it was a necessary thing to seek as if his parents found out they would no doubt put restrictions on how he was working. 

despite the peer isolation, which later led to a fair amount of social awkwardness on his part, he seemed to get along great with those he went up against in competitions. perhaps it was their shared love or enjoyment of the instrument. regardless, he created a group of friends outside of the school scene and, despite many of them being older than him, he was respected and treated much better than others his age treated him. 

the summer post high school graduation saw him doing something no one could have predicted ( aside from his grandfather who swears up and down that he saw this coming since he was seven years old ). he set out on a tour of major cities, performing alone on a stage with simply a piano, a mask, and a single spotlight. see, in the latter years of his teens, he really blew up thanks to the internet. he became known under a moniker the he’d used on his youtube channel, which he would post videos of his personal compositions and covers of songs on. it led to some artists and producers reaching out collaborate, which, in turn, increased his popularity.

( car accident tw ) life was good for five years. he got to do what he loved and loved what he did. of course, all good things must come to an end, even if that good thing felt like it is your entire life. at twenty three, the now grown quiet boy got into a car accident. a drunk driver hit the car his mother was driving with him in the passenger seat. his mother survived with a few bruised ribs and a broken arm while he came out of it with severe head trauma. head trauma that, out of all things, resulted in hearing loss. the cochlea and hearing nerves in his inner ears were damaged to the point that it sounded like a hush fell over the world. it was a difficult reality to swallow. 

( depression tw ) it was a loss like no other. he could no longer hear his piano. he could no longer get lost in the world his music created. depression hit him heavy and hard, dragging him under in a suffocating hold. seventeen years. he’d been playing piano for seventeen years and now that ability was severely disabled. he withdrew, cutting ties with almost all of his friends who were apart of the music world. his parents didn’t know what to do with their quiet child who seemed to become deathly silent after the accident. the whole family had signed up in solidarity to learn asl alongside him. the only ones who seemed to muster out any sort of reactions or responses from him were his grandparents who struggled to learn the new way of communicating. he tried hearing aids in addition, however, the damaged required a more intensive solution. cochlear implants. he refused despite the struggle he still faced with the hearing aids. his family tried to get him to go through with the surgery, however he was an adult and it was his decision to make. so he continued to allow himself to waste away in the distorted world around him. his father responded to his state with anger, while his mother grieved and worried over him from afar. his grandparents were around as much as they could be, reaching out with patient hands. it would take two years for him to reach back.

twenty-four and feeling stuck, exhausted, and just down right sick, the quiet boy finally inched out of the shell the accident had left him in. it starts with therapy, then medication, and ends with stepping into the kitchen with his grandmother again. his piano remained untouched, gathering dust in his home behind a locked door. no one brought it up, not yet, and instead slow steps were eventually taken. he spoke for the first time post asl and hearing aids to his mother. his voice raspy and barely there from disuse. he couldn’t hear himself, but his mother had burst into tears as his grandparents smiled at each other with watery eyes. it was progress. slow progress, but they were glad that he was finally taking steps forward. 

it was five months after his twenty-fourth birthday that he decided to undergo the cochlear implant surgery. he held no hope for what he’d be able to do with the upgrade. he didn’t allow himself to think of the abandoned piano or the possibility of getting back into music. no, instead, he simply kept his eyes forward as though the past no longer existed. instead, he spent his time baking with his grandmother, helping with the small business she’d started when he was in middle school. the surgery was a success, but the quiet man did not cry when he was finally able to hear with more clarity. there were no tears of overwhelming happiness, instead he’d simply smiled at his mother when she asked if he could hear her and said yes.

it took him six months to decide he needed to move. despite his family still living in the area he grew up in, he needed to get away. he wanted out of the city and eventually settled on moving to beauhart, a place suggested by one of the few friends he kept in touch with post-accident. the official transition happened three months ago where he moved out of the apartment he bought for himself at twenty and into his own home. it was a bit large for just himself and his mother worried that he would fall back into bad habits, but he loved the old styled place. it had a front porch and was painted a gentle yellow. the front was filled with a garden of flowers and bushes that wrapped around to the fence that encased the backyard. his father hated it, but his grandparents had approved when they first saw it, having travelled with his mother to help with the unpacking once everything had arrived. it held more warmth than his apartment had. perhaps it was because he was going to be living in it full time or the character / personality the house itself had. regardless, he felt settled for the first time in almost two years. no one mentioned the grand piano that had been placed in the third bedroom of the house.

three months post move found him working at the local bakery. the early mornings were tough, but the consistency was enjoyable for him. it helped, significantly, with his mental health. he promised his mother to call at least twice a week and his grandmother almost every other day to gossip. despite his awkwardness with social cues and languid nature, he managed to make connections with other residents. things seemed to be looking up, though there still remained that empty part of him and a door unopened.

extras

he is, for all intents and purposes, socially an idiot. he can’t pick up verbal cues up very well and often chooses to ignore them even if they are glaringly obvious. some kind find this incredibly annoying or be endeared by it. usually it’s the former, though avery has never minded. he has no desire to be liked by everyone and is more than happy to continue going by the beat of his own drum.

definitely often produces the wrong first impressions, especially with his looks. he takes care of himself, has been instilled with the habit, especially after how rough his twenty-third and fourth year was. so it’s not often he goes out looking like the drowned rat he enjoys being at home. it’s part of his routine that has helped him stay on track mentally.

definitely a momma’s boy, but would literally do anything for his grandparents. he is planning on having them visiting him as soon as he manages to get his guest room furnished and decorated. 

 if he wants to avoid something, he ignores it. it’s a terrible coping habit that manifests in small instances and larger situations. it’s very childish in many ways, but his therapist has yet to be able to break him out of it. 

is looking into adopting an animal, but is torn between what sort of animal. he has been looking at the humane society, but has yet been able to decide.

he is very indecisive about the smallest of things, but somehow manages to be able to make the bigger and more important decisions ??? 

has a very weird and varied taste in music.

 learned korean from his grandparents when he was younger but primarily speaks english or asl. 

often moves around his house without his hearing aids and keeps things quiet. a book nerd post accident. his favourite thing to do is spend the day on his porch swing reading.

he has been thinking of taking online business courses to learn more about running/owning his own business. he hasn’t mentioned it to anyone, not is planning to, but when he thinks about the future he’s wondering if owning his own bakery could be a possible option.

honestly a sleepy boy even though he has a perfectly reasonable sleep schedule ???

doesn’t know how to flirt. doesn’t even know how to hold a conversation with someone he has a crush on. is very awkward with them.

likes to try and make wacky things (baking wise) when bored then try and make you try it without any forewarning. 

is actually pretty good at making elaborate cakes and frosting designs. does cake commissions on the side for birthdays, in fact.

gets lost really easily. its been three months and he still sometimes forgets where to turn when driving home.

will steal your pet if you leave him alone with them ( not literally ).

is terrible at texting and is the type of person to call you to have a conversation. this is mostly because he’s too lazy to text.

enjoys memes and quotes them sarcastically, sometimes when it’s definitely not appropriate.

has a habit of staring without meaning too. this could either be off into space or actually at someone. he doesn’t necessarily mean to do it. at times it’s a case of dissociation and others it’s simply him having no common sense and/or is blatant day dreaming.

will not ride as a passenger in a car. he’s been able to drive again post implants but the trauma of the accident has caused him a real fear of being someone else’s passenger. 

sometimes, without him realizing it, he’ll mime playing the piano. the habit of pressing his fingers into invisible keys too engrained to erase. he attempts to avoid music a lot, especially classical. it’s somewhat impossible to do at work and outside of his home. at times, he gives in to his desire to try and hear it the way he used to and will blast the music until he can feel the base thrumming in his veins. it’s as detoxing as it is frustrating. as much as he can hear, it will never be like it used to be for him.

if you read all of this i applaud you. tell me your favourite colour, animal, and/or food and then we can plot C:<