#totally not writing this bc of my current situation

[iken]

imagine being insanely fucking tired after a long shift at work and your f/o comes home to see you knocked out on the bed

[coolcoelacanth]

bruh something weird happened in the pharmacy and i feel weird and bad and uncomfortable about it

[wonwoonlight]

when he finds out you're sick through the internet

A/N: idol!au. OC is also a celebrity though I don't explicitly say what. tiny teensy angst bc cheol is a worried Boyfriend💔 1.5k words! another random word vomits bc that's the only way i know how to write now lol idk why but everytime i write this kinda fic it's always seungcheol looooooooooooooool. not proofread, but enjoy!

[part 2]

Seungcheol doesn't really get angry.

For the three years you've known him in which you've dated him for two, you've only seen him actually get angry a total number of three times. None of them was directed at you, and all of them are for reasons that you would've exploded upon way before he did.

Seungcheol is patient and rational.

Seungcheol is normally patient and rational.

But he's never normal when it comes to you. And even though the patient bit still stands, nothing about his feelings towards you is ever rational. He's a little too emotional, a little too rash, and a little too worrisome when it comes to your wellbeing.

So when he's relaxing in the practice room during a break with his members, for once not on his phone because he's charging it somewhere on one of the tables, and he hears Seungkwan gasps a little upon his phone, he thinks there's another scandal blowing up upon the industry. But when the younger guy's blown out eyes meet him, colors drained from his face, Seungcheol hates that he knew it could mean one thing: something happened to you.

He shoots up almost immediately, not registering any words that come out of Seungkwan's mouth. His hands shake a little when he unlocks his phone, and his heart drops when he reads the official post from your company's twitter account that states your current condition, that you might need to pause your activities for the time being due to health reasons, apologizes for the worries, and asks for the fans' understanding.

He wants to get angry.

At who, he’s not sure.

At your company, for pushing you even though they know your schedule is practically inhumane? At your manager, for not making sure that you have decent rest in between schedules? At you, because he’s been telling you to fucking stop running towards whatever goal you have in mind but you insist that you know your limit and you’ll know when to stop?

Apparently, no you fucking don’t because else this wouldn’t have happened.

The rest of the members look at him in worry, and Jeonghan silently walks to their manager and the other staff to let them know about the situation at hand, that Seungcheol would probably not be in his best state to continue practice at the moment. The leader would probably insist that they continue anyway, but they’ve practiced for almost five hours already anyway and they could spare an hour or two for the leader when it’s clear that he’s worried beyond measure.

Seungcheol bites his lip as he tries to call you, his concern skyrocketing by the seconds the longer the beeping sound goes, no sign of you picking it up. He tries one more time, but you still don’t answer and he’s about to hurl his phone at the wall when your manager calls him instead, tells him that he sees his name flashing on your phone, informs your whereabouts, and that he should just drop by your place in a few hours if he wants to see you because right now you’re still sleeping in the car and he’s taking you home.

He finds it hard to say anything, a lump growing in his throat until he manages to swallow it down and ask how you’re doing right now.

“She’s… exhausted.” Your manager says quietly. “I know it’s my job to take care of her but… you know her. She didn’t tell me that she’s been having a hard time sleeping at night the past few weeks and it finally took a toll on her.”

It’s hard to suppress his anger, his breath heavier than usual though it’s not too noticeable unless they know Seungcheol. He wants to scream at your manager, but he knows it won’t do anyone any good and it’s really not the time nor the place for that. So he mutters a quiet ‘thank you’ before he hangs up, his members looking at him with a mix of worry and understanding when he looks up at them.

“Go.” Soonyoung says. “We’ve practiced enough today. Take care of your girlfriend and tell us later.”

Seungcheol nods and sprints out of the room, beyond thankful that his members always have his back.

Seungcheol is glaring at you when you wake up, though the way his thumb is still softly caressing your head and the worry in his eyes clearly tell you that his anger is nowhere near his distress. 

You offer him a weak smile, unable to defend yourself because you know what his eyes are scolding you for.

“Sorry?” You whisper and immediately cringe at how dry your throat feels.

He doesn’t say anything as he helps you sit down and hands you your favorite mug. Taking in the moment, you frown at how weak you feel, though you really only have yourself to blame because you genuinely thought you’re okay and you can take it.

You know it’s on you for taking as many schedules as possible, practically everything that your company offers you even when your manager says he doesn’t think it’s physically possible for you to do all that in such a short span.

Thinking about it now, you realize that your manager and the rest of your team also gets the short end of the stick through your decision. Him, your make up team, and your stylists would all need to be with you and your ambition forgets to consider their wellbeing even when you wrongly claim you would be able to handle it.

Guilt starts to eat you inside out, and it grows even larger as you see Seungcheol in front of you–didn’t he say he had practice today?–his face screams distressed and his shoulders tense since God knows when.

“Hey, talk to me.” He says softly when he notices you’ve been spacing out and you’re nibbling on your lip like you would when you’re anxious, taking away your mug before enveloping your hands with his.

You tear up almost immediately, and he moves to sit on the edge of your bed to usher you into his chest, patiently listens to your nonsense as you try to talk through your tears. He gets the gist of it: sorry–manager–company–wellbeing–my team–didn’t think it through–made you worry–overestimated myself–sorry–and the list goes on. He exhales as he hugs you tighter, both understanding and upset at the turns of events.

Being in the same industry, he gets what you’re trying to do, understands that you feel the need to keep on running while you’re able to, relates that you’re doing everything for yourself and your fans. But still, it’s hard not to be upset to know you’re pushing yourself too hard when he’s been telling you there’s no need to run as fast as you are without resting; that you’ll only hurt yourself one way or another and he hates that the one time he needs to be right, it’s this.

You end up laying down against his chest on your bed, hiccups and sniffles filling your bedroom along with a random song he’s humming against your head. You pull away to properly look at him, the first time you’re doing it since you woke up earlier, and his hum stops in question.

“Thank you.” You manage to whisper, your fingers grasping the front of his shirt without even realizing. “For being here when I woke up.”

He shakes his head like he doesn’t understand why you’re thanking him, simply leans down to plant a long, chaste kiss against your forehead before he pulls up your blanket so it’ll cover you properly.

“Just… don’t surprise me like that again, okay?” His breath is warm against your face, pleasantly so, and you nod as you promise him that you’ll take better care of yourself moving forward. 

“Are you staying the night?”

“Yes, I’ll return to the dorm the day after tomorrow. They’ve given me a day off.” You cringe at his words, though thankful that he’s been in the industry long enough to attain that kind of privilege. But still, you feel bad that you’re obstructing his practice and his members just because you’re foolish enough to– “Hey. Stop. I know what you’re thinking. No need to feel bad. I’m actually glad I get to rest with you.”

“But–”

“No buts. The kids can do without me for a day.” He playfully bumps his forehead against yours, his lips hover above yours merely centimeters apart.  He doesn’t meet your lips, though he kisses their corner sweetly and wraps you back into his embrace to the point where there’s no space between you two. “Sleep. I’ll be here when you wake up.”

“Good night, Cheol.”

“Night, baby.”

“See you in my dream?”

“I’ll see you anywhere you want me to be.”

He hugs you tighter, and you try your best to return the gesture despite the awkward position of your arms. It’s uncomfortable and you’re sure your arms will be sore the next morning.

But you wouldn’t have it any other way. Not when you succumb to sleep and find Seungcheol smiling at you on the other side of your dream, as real as he can be.

cont.

[aestherin]

seatmates | scaramouche x gn! reader

a random drabble i thought of at school bc of course my mind is floating :D

i was scrolling thru my drafts when i found this i totally did not forget about this i swear </3 also not proofread bc i don't have any braincells left :DD

wc: 589

You have always hated two-person desks.

Especially those that are too narrow you and your seatmate practically have to be squished against each other in order for both of you to fully utilize the desk.

"Fucking move," Scaramouche hissed.

"No, you," you pushed against his arm which had bumped into yours earlier.

He sent death glares your way, all of which you paid no attention to. After almost a year of sitting next to each other, it was second nature to build a system that's immune to the silent and furious side-eyes of an angry cat. How long has it been? Ah.

It all started when you made the grave mistake of being late for the first day of classes. No one else wanted to sit next to the menace that is currently sending daggers your way, and so you ended up sitting on the remaining available spot — the one beside Scaramouche.

The experience wasn't all that bad, though.

Sure, sitting beside him felt like being together with a grumpy old man, but even he had some soft moments. Like when he'd let you peek at his notes when you don't understand what the lecturer was babbling about (this comes with some mockery from him, but you shrug them all off).

Or like that one time you were shivering from the AC and he let you borrow his hoodie (this came with him uttering lighthearted remarks about how you should always be prepared because what if he wasn't there to lend his hoodie? Just what are you going to do without him?)

You returned it immediately after getting it washed but he told you to keep it. It's now your favorite hoodie.

Sitting next to Scaramouche was a give-and-take situation. He would begrudgingly lend you a hand, and you would do the same. He used to disturb you from whatever you were doing just to borrow your correction tape so many times that at one point, you just laid it out on your desk, free for him to use. Luckily, he got the message and just started using it whenever he needed to. Was it just your imagination or did he really start needing the correction tape less when you just laid the thing out on the desk?

He also once left his earphones at home and kept bugging you to let him listen to whatever was playing through yours because he swears even your trashy music taste is much more bearable than listening to whatever your classmates were chattering about.

That's what he said but he now listens religiously to the playlist you've been playing on repeat.

As an attempt to get back at you for what you did earlier, he bumped his arm against yours — which was writing notes, at the moment.

Across the organized scribbling of letters and words on a page of your notebook was now a long, thick line of black ballpoint pen ink. You gasped, mouth ajar at the painful sight of a mess.

"Dude! What the fuck?" You sharply turned your head towards him, only to find that he'd already looked away from you.

"Scara, you bit—"

He only sighed.

Your attention was swayed by him slowly and gently intertwining both of your hands above the desk.

"Don't worry about it. I'll rewrite your notes for you later."

He finally gazed back at you. Blood rushed up your face as he used his hand to guide yours to his lips, pressing a light kiss.

"At least after we eat out for dinner."

[saintobio]

Hi saint! God you have no idea how much I wanted to go home after seeing you updated. You’re basically the only one with notifs on bc I cant, CANT, miss an update from my fave fic of all time (fears for my life bc you said it doesnt get better til chapter 14)

Anyway, this is not really a theory, but im curious as to what transpired between mc and toru the morning after their confrontation. Why did gojo leave? Did they fight? Did mc force him to leave to go to akemi to lessen her feelings of guilt?

Anyway, why do i have a feeling that akemi could, COULD, be 🤰? bc if my memory is correct, I recalled one scene where they woohooed with akemi saying she wanted no protection on? And since i do work on a medical field, it is possible for cramps when implantation happens (mc will have the heart attack of her lifetime istg). Although it could also be bc of her condition bc it wasnt really really explicitly stated in one chapter they woohooed without protection on (my memory is foggy bc i never reread chapters where they woohooed. I feel mc’s pain 🥲🥲) but why do i also have a feeling mc could be pregnant too

👁️👄👁️ bc they did have sachiro after woohooing in the first few chapters of SN (theyre both so fertile skdhjssk). Also, I feel like mc’s heart condition is coming back :((( after chapter 10 where she was pounding her heart to stop the pain, I can only imagine her angina waiting in the corner ;((

There’s only a few remaining chapters left (💔) but theres still so much drama and tension left unresolved (Gem still doesnt know they 👉🏽👌🏽) I thank you from the bottom of my heart that you continuously grace us with your writing. There are only a few fics that really made me feel the pain and surely your writing will always be at the top of a godtier list when it comes to giving heavy angst (i can only hope they have a HEA and have a new kid bc i really wanna see satoru redeem himself as a father 🥲🥲) I will surely miss this series when it ends and I will surely reread this when I am feeling the blues and just want to cry. Your brain and hands work wonders and I hope people here would also learn that waiting for the next update is definitely worth it (please stop pressuring her for new updates :(( saint gives her entire heart writing this. The wait is so so worth it).

And before this ends I would like to ask mc and satoru what are their current thoughts are after their 😏 hot steamy confrontation (I WAS SO HAPPY THEY FCKED TBH) no pressure if they wont answer hehe. Thank you for giving us SN and SY, Saint! I will look forward to future fics from you. Sending you much love and I hope and pray that you get all your heart’s desire 💛💛💛💛

hello loveee!! those are really good questions and thank you so much for ur kind words 🥹 i recognize ur blog bc you’ve been a longtime reader of mine, so happy to still see u here <3 anyway, your theories:

1. the morning after, gojo and yn are already having an emotional exchange (kinda) thats why yn was already crying when akemi caught them!

2. what i can only say is akemi’s pelvic pain situation is there for a specific reason :)

3. their families (gen, momjo, etc) will be back soon, it’s total chaos

4. while doing it? they’re definitely going crazy for each other. next morning is all guilt !!

[esamastation]

hi!!! i just wanted to pop in after reading some of your AC fics (ones where desmond, ezio, and/or altaïr are at the forefront so in this case: i was born for this, terrible two, stone angel, gift of living well, impermanence, three fold, & earthly scene) and say that you're a brilliant writer. as someone who's trying to write longer, more impactful stories, it's admirable how you prioritize the plot and how romance is a sweet part of it. (this is part 1 of this message bc of the word count!)

you construct romance in an original, cathartic way that feels effortless. i just finished 'i was born with this' and the romance that forms between the characters feels so natural and unforced. another thing i love in your fics is that when desmond goes back in time, he always (unintentionally at first) makes an impact in furthering knowledge, inventions, etc centuries ahead of when they were supposed to happen. more importantly, desmond finds his well-deserved happy ending.

your fic ideas are also so creative and out of the box. i'm currently going through the games right now and desmond has been so so much shit (unwillingly) and he deserves some rest and happiness :,) another thing i love is how you always leave a hopeful ending that makes me ache to know what happens after!! you flesh out the characters so much over the span of + 100,000k words, tie things wonderfully at the end, and make me feel out breath (in a good way)

yeah, to sum that up, you're an amazing writer!! i also wanted to ask you some questions about writing. i aspire to write long fics, but i struggle with plotting out events =( i feel like i rush the events in how i want to get to the end where the characters are happy! do you have a writing process? do you plot out your stories or kind of go with the flow? do you have any tips on improving your writing? i totally get if you don't have any advice! have a great day!

-

Thank you for your nice comments, sorry it took so long to reply, I was feeling very antisocial. Anyway.

I do not have a writing process - I'm what they call a gardner writer, I take characters and I put them into situations and see how things develop and plot either happens or it doesn't. Maybe I have vague plans like "here's a scene I want to see in future" and "this is a result I want them to come to" and then try to write towards those goals, but they don't always pan out. It's all very chaotic and leads to lot of dropped fics, but it's how I enjoy writing. (It really helps having someone reading your stuff and poking at the plot holes though, I got a lot of fics that only got as far as they did because nimadge or someone else was there along for the ride.)

I dunno if there's anything other that just practice that can improve a person's writing. Some people recommend writing short stories and flash fiction, some people say your should write X amount of words every day. If all else fails there's thousands YouTube videos on subject.

Personally I'm a huge advocate of taking ideas from other people and putting your own spin into them. Derivate, rehash, put them in a blender, see what comes out. Like, don't copy Lord of the Rings word for word and publish it as your own work, that's bad - but maybe dwarf and elf going on adventures together is a idea that could go places. Fanfiction is all derivation upon pre-existing ideas.

Related, I whole heartedly endorse anyone who wants to take plots and ideas I've written and taking a crack at them with their own style. It's pretty much how I learned to write as wee bab on a typewriter, stealing from the books I enjoyed. And hell, if you don't have a style, try someone else's. One is my most popular fics started with me trying to emulate the style and cadence of narration of a completely unrelated TV series I was watching at the time. I don't think anyone even noticed.

Once you have enough practice under your belt, your style will develop on its own.

[lycheeloving]

I'm currently re-watching the first season of the Witcher... I forgot how much I love Geralt. So I had to write yandere headcanons for him ofc:

He still has to hunt monsters, but he tries to keep it to a minimum, as to not endanger you

When he does have to do something dangerous, he leaves you at the safest place that's nearby-ish. He doesn't tie you down, so you can still run away if you're in danger. At the beginning, this means he always has to chase you down after he gets back, but he couldn't live with himself if you got hurt because you couldn't get away from some monster.

That being said, you quickly realize that Geralt does, in fact, leave you in the safest place possible, whether that's an inn in a town or somewhere in a forest. Running away usually only gets you into trouble that Geralt has to save you from, so at some point you stop running. He always finds you in no time anyways, because of his enhanced senses. You might as well stay where you are, that's less exhausting.

He doesn't punish you for running away. He thinks it's annoying and might grumble and complain a bit while carrying you back, but that's all. He knows that this isn't an ideal situation for you and how could you ever love him, but he just can't live without you.

He does teach you some basic self-defense stuff, and how to act around certain monsters, so you're not totally unprepared if something were to happen. Usually the only thing you should do is run, though. (He teaches you for which monsters you should stand still, so you don't make a horrible mistake)

You'll sleep outside most of the time.

Downside: he insists on cuddling while you sleep. His arms are around you like a vice and you can't go anywhere. Plus the floor is uncomfortable (even if he has started to carry more comfortable sleeping bags etc with him bc you kept complaining) and cold. Really cold.

Upside: At least Geralt runs hot, so he keeps you warm?

Being outside all the time also means you usually have to bathe in various rivers and lakes... Geralt always stands guard with his sword in his hand. Just in case. He has to look at you, to keep you save! Not because he likes seeing you naked or anything...

If you're ever in a town, don't expect the people there to help you. Nobody wants to enrage a Witcher, especially not the butcher of Blaviken...

Geralt will let you talk to others if you want, as long as you (or they) aren't flirting. He gets jealous easily. So if you don't want them to "mysteriously" disappear, try to be careful about how you talk to others. And who you talk to.

Doesn't care if other people call him names because he's used to it, but if anyone makes a comment about you because you're with him? They're dead.

Lets you ride Roach. of course.

I feel like he would still be friends with Jaskier. Jask would just think you're being silly if you talk about how Geralt kidnapped you and won't let you leave or whatever. "Haha, yeah, I get it, I keep coming back to him as well, his life is just so fascinating! So, what did you think about my new song?". Useless in helping you escape, but at least he's fun to be around. Might try to hit on you once, but immediately realizes that he should never do that again if he wants to live keep being friends with Geralt.

I feel like Yennefer would flirt with you and make demeaning comments like "Can I borrow your little toy?" about you, to piss Geralt off. You don't like when she's there because she always makes him feel like he needs to prove that you're his.

Will probably leave a bite mark on your neck, to mark you as his. So everyone knows not to touch you, even if he's not around.

Yes, he'll take you to Kaer Morhen. The others make fun of him for "acting like a lovesick puppy". He doesn't care, as long as they're not making fun of you. If someone does make fun of you, Geralt will seriously hurt them, unless you convince him not to. In which case he'll have to hear even more comments about how he's totally whipped. But at least it makes the other Witchers like you more, if Geralt hurts them for you that just pisses them off, and in that case nobody has a good time.

[sunnyy3d]

Hi again

Ok so I am currently obsessed with Matt smith and Alex Kingston so I wanted to know if you would write a 11th/river/reader fanfic where the reader is a companion that just started travelling with them but for some reason she is immortal and always finds them but she doesn’t totally understand how the meeting keeps happening between them all so she just jumped from a new tune where she was happily married to the doctor and river but now she meets river/melody who doesn’t know her yet and she gets jealous bc she over heard them talking about another girl(her just younger) and it leads to the doctor having to explain to her that they aren’t at that time yet and river gifts her a journal so she can write down where and how they keep meeting hopefully this makes enough sense and you would want to write it I just want some fluff/cuteness along with confusion on time travel

Timeless Love| 11th Doctor x River x Reader

A/N: Requests open! (Obviously)

God, I'm so nauseous. Will I ever get used to that? I really wish that I had my own TARDIS; it'd be so much better than a vortex manipulator. The Doctor calls it "cheap and nasty time travel," and he's not wrong. Of course, I'll never let him know that, though.

I let the dizziness subside before opening my eyes. I'm facing a wall? I've gotta go through the checklist. Okay, first is smell. It smells... old? Like antiques and dust. Why is smell first anyway? The second is hearing. I hear sirens, which leads to the next part: sight. To go with the sirens, I see a red flashing light coming from a bulb farther up the wall. That's always a good sign! Last but not least, the 360. Well, it's more like a 180, but that's beside the point. I spin only to find a gun pointed at my head. My smile immediately drops, the excitement of being in a new environment being replaced with dread. What have I gotten myself into this time?

"Oi, don't touch the fez! Wait, no, don't take it," I hear from behind the brute holding the gun.

"Don't listen to him. Please take the fez," I'd recognize those voices from anywhere. Especially the sarcasm... It only makes sense that they're around when I find myself in trouble. I can't let myself get distracted; this is a life-or-death situation. Just do what The Doctor taught you. Be rational and observe.

Peering past the gun, I see a creature I've never seen before in my time with The Doctor. This thing is enormous, at least a foot or two taller than me. They (it?) have on a suit of armor--similar to what would be found back on Earth-- that obscures its face. Maybe it's a security guard? It would make sense, considering that behind it are glass cases that hold artifacts.

Regardless, this creature's sheer size means I can't fight it. At least not successfully. That throws all of the self-defense skills River taught me out of the window. I really wish she was here. Oh wait... she is. I'll just have to play the innocent card. It shouldn't be hard, considering that I am innocent. I put my hands up beside my head as a sign of surrender, careful to go at a speed that's not threatening. "I just got here, I swear. I have no idea what's going on," I reason. I have a feeling that it's not gonna work well.

"Oh, look who it is! Where have you been?" Looking past the guard, I spot The Doctor and River being led in by another guard.

I sigh, "It's not what it looks like."

"It's exactly what it looks like!" The Doctor interrupts with his stupid smile.

"Honey, can you shut please? I kinda have a gun in my face right now," I plead.

"Oh right..."

"Excuse me, sir?" River distracts the guard in front of me.

"We're going to have to ask you to put that gun down. Darling, you might want to duck." Without even thinking, I follow her instructions. I trust River and The Doctor with my life. What kind of wife would I be otherwise? Being stuck between the wall and the fight, I have no choice but to crawl away.

I'm hiding behind one of the cases when The Doctor comes around the corner, disheveled and panting. It's a good look at him. His hair is messy before he runs a hand through it and flashes his signature smile. God, I could kiss him. But now's not the time. We're in the middle of a fight. I say we, but I really mean River. "What are you doing?" I yell.

"I could ask you the same thing!" Loud shots hit the walls around us. I peek around the corner and see two more guards have shown up as reinforcement.

A bullet flies past my head, and I quickly take my retreat behind the case. "Look! We'll have to save this conversation for after we get out of whatever situation you got us into this time. River needs help." The Doctor gives me an offended look.

"River does NOT need help, no thanks to you guys," she says sarcastically.

The Doctor and I come out from behind the case. "What are you guys even doing here?" I ask with my hands on my hips.

"Uhh... we're picking something up," The Doctor answers nervously. I nod, my lips drawing into a thin line as I give him a skeptical hum. It's probably not worth questioning, and I probably won't get a straight answer.

"And you are?" River questions, looking me up and down. Even after being with her for a while, I still get butterflies when she looks at me like that.

But the butterflies are scooped up by my confusion. "What do you mean, River? We've been-"

"SPOILERS," The Doctor interjects. "If you'll just give us a moment, please?" I nod as he drags River away. They huddle together with their backs facing me. Clearly, I'm not supposed to hear this conversation, but it doesn't stop me from trying. Unfortunately, they're just out of earshot, so I can only hear a few words.

Focusing on their conversation, I piece together some parts. "She's... beautiful... amazing... younger... she's like..." The Doctor explains with expressive hands. Occasionally, River glances back at me with a smile.

Who are they talking about like that? It has to be someone special. Why else would they keep it a secret from me? More importantly, why is River saying she doesn't know me? Has she had her memory wiped? Clearly, The Doctor knows who I am, but he's also acting weird. What has happened to our marriage? Did all of the intimate moments that we shared go down the drain? All the adventures forgotten?

I'm so lost in thought that it takes me a second to realize that they've finished their conversation and have started walking back towards me. I quickly stand straight, suddenly incredibly self conscious. I cross my arms and frown, "So, who's this mystery woman and why did you have to talk about her in secret?" I know my words reek of jealousy, but I can't help it. We've been married for so long, and yet here they are talking about some other woman.

The Doctor sighs, thinking about how he should respond. "We were talking about you. I know it might not make too much sense right now, but River and I aren't in the same timeline as you."

"This is actually my first time meeting you, I'm afraid. Though I'm sure it won't be the last," River looks me up and down with a smirk. I blush and look away. Even if this is her first time meeting me, she still has to flirt.

Everything is starting to make sense now. All of the times when The Doctor or River thought that they had done something with me but hadn't. Or when they'd forget simple things. It's not that they forgot; it just hadn't happened to them yet. Why didn't I think of this before? And why hadn't they explained this to me earlier? Why does time have to be so complicated?

"This happens all of the time with me and River. It's honestly quite annoying to figure out," The Doctor chuckles.

"You know, that actually makes a lot of sense. Things are starting to come together now. That explains why you guys are so confusing sometimes. Sorry, extra confusing sometimes." The couple laughs before River holds up her finger, saying hold on and grabbing her bag off her back. She rummages through it momentarily before letting out a small 'aha.' I look at The Doctor with my eyebrows scrunched in confusion. He only shrugs. River pulls out what she was looking for. I see a look of recognition flash across The Doctor's face before I can tell what it is.

"Here," she holds out a book. It's a royal blue and has squares on it like the TARDIS. It looks naturally worn, its deckled pages ready to hold a story. "I have a smiliar journal. I use it to keep track of my encounters with this idiot. Maybe you can do the same?" She suggests with a warm smile.

From this distance, I can see how young she is. Though she doesn't look much different, her eyes tell a different story. They have more youth to them, more innocence. Let's be honest: River has never truly been innocent. But she is more innocent than the River that I know best. I smile as I take the journal in my hands. It's perfect. It'll be easy to carry around, and it is absolutely gorgeous.

So much has yet to come for The Doctor and River, both terrible and happy. And even though I have lived through things that they haven't, they have lived through things that I haven't. This book will hold stories that cannot be shared with the ones I love the most. If I were to share it, it could ruin everyone's timeline. Time is a delicate balance of... wibbly, wobbly, timey, wimey... stuff. Okay, I'll admit that wasn't the most eloquent I have been, but it'll have to do.

With a smile, I look up at my husband and wife (well, future for them), "Thank you. I have a feeling that I'll be using this a lot."

[falling-star-cygnus]

a bit similar to the dismembered fic, but what about a situation where billy is separated from the rest of the hares in a hollow and ends up getting badly injured by hollow raiders and left for dead? but then a different hollow raider totally not a self insert lmaoooo picks him up and helps repair him? like a hurt/comfort kinda scenario.

hi hi!!!

i don't really do "x-readers" or "reader insert" fanfics :{ -> i'm not good at them and i really don't want to jipp you out of a proper answer to your request! i really do appreciate the ask

HOWEVER, while i'm still going to write this [with Anton in place of the reader, bc i kinda want to explore a possible friendship there] may i direct you to @cynarisgayass? {hope you don't mind me tagging you} -> their writing is genuinely fantastic

rereading your request, i realize it says self-insert now o_o please forgive my dumbassery. jfc [i already wrote in Anton, but god i sound pretentious- i'm so sorry 😭]

Why was it always something?

Billy looked around the decrepit buildings of the Hollow and scratched at his scalp with the hammer of one of his Girls™. The other sat against his hip.

From the moment the Cunning Hares had entered the Hollow, he'd felt a creeping presence at his back- lurking eyes that the android didn't want to risk zeroing in on his family team.

It made something near primal stir low in his plating.

Something painful and stabbing that itched at this trigger happy fingers into motion.

Billy wouldn't let any of the Hares be hurt, not on his watch.

So he'd done what he does best these days. Caused a ruckus. The android had flailed his limbs and pulled his punches just enough to make himself seem like an easy target and then split.

He'd definitely get an earful later... the girls never liked it when he put himself in positions like this. But it was a necessary evil!

Billy could bounce back from atomization, especially now that his memories had been banked on a hard drive oh-so-generously gifted to the Hares by a certain blue-eyed manager. [Nicole's insistence, so they didn't have a repeat of... well.]

But the fragile humans, and thiren, could not. They didn't have the protection of metal plating or veins of rubber cased wiring or the luxury of deleting memories from a bank of data. When they got fatally hurt, it stuck.

It stuck in a way he couldn't protect them from.

So. Billy would just protect them this way. By taking care of the threat before it became a threat.

"Hey- uh.. are you ok?"

It would be tough, but with the strength of the Starlight Knights on his side-

"Seriously- do you need, like- help?"

The dames of the Hares would be perfectly protected by none other than-

"That looks really bad, dude!"

Billy Kid, former Son of Calydon and current marksmen of the Cunning Hares! The android would not rest until-

"I'm a mechanic, you know, I could-"

"DO YOU MIND? CAN'T A GUY MONOLOGUE IN PEACE ANYMORE!?"

Billy whirls on the rude voice, more than a little miffed that someone just had to interrupt his internalized heroic speech when-

"YOU HAVE REBAR THROUGH YOUR STOMACH!"

Oh.

Billy looks down.

Well that explained his stomach pain.

"...look at that," the android says, and makes the oh so wise [heh, manager joke] decision to poke it. He never claimed to be the smartest Hare.

Pain instantly spiders it's way through his wiring.

"Hey-!" Before Billy even realizes it, muscular arms are looping under his arms before his knees can crack against the pavement.

They hold his weight with surprising ease, even if the jostling coaxes a low groan from the suddenly aware marksmen. Knights, he didn't even know androids could feel adrenaline like this. He missed being a mindless marksman, actually- could he go back to not perceiving pain please?

"Guess even robots can crash out, huh..?" the voice- male, he thinks- nervously chuckles out, "Are you-"

"Android," Billy cuts in, "I'm- an android."

"What's the difference?"

"What's the difference between you and a bear?"

Maybe his newly discovered flesh- plating?- wound was making him a touch too grumbly, but he really hated that robot v. android question. Probably in the same way humans hated being compared to animals.

He kinda expected to hit the ground now, actually.

The day just kept surprising him though.

"Huh- touché," the voice ends up responding- and he should really get a look at his face and not just his stupidly firm chest, "I never thought about it that way before."

And then the android was being lifted- lifted, not hauled, what the fuck- to his feet; with his arm slung over even more stupidly broad shoulders. What were they feeding this man-

"That looks really bad, bro..."

Right, mortal flesh wound.

"Come on, lets get you out of this Hollow and I can-"

"NO!"

It's like all of Billy's systems suddenly kicked into high gear. He was fighting to get his feet back under him, fighting to pull away, he couldn't leave-

"No... my team- the girls, I can't. There's someone-" The android had barely wrapped his fingers around the rebar in his stomach before he was being hip-checked and the man was wrestling his hand away.

"There's somebody after my family-"

"I think they're after you, actually!"

The gun goes off before the mechanic realizes Billy had wormed his other arm free.

•_-><-_•

Anton had seen a lot of things within the Hollows.

Too many things, all things considered, stained too many clothes with Ethereal matter. Ruined too many tools.

He had also heard a lot of things. Both in and out of the Hollows.

Namely, things about a certain robotic- androtic? No, that sounded dumb... um.. oh! Mechanical. Mechanical worked.

Anton had heard things about a certain mechanical marksmen. He'd heard his reputation change and evolve and shift like a human's would- been hearing the whispers and seeing the headlines since he was small.

From a point and click war machine, to a feared enforcer, to whatever the hell he was now- the mechanic had heard it all. It was sort of the thing that got him into the scene in the first place.

Seeing the android in person though- without the buffer of his Boss- was a different experience entirely.

Billy Kid was lankier than his reputation would suggest, kinder looking- in a way- with his bright glass eyes and animated movements.

...and giant piece of rebar lodged in his stomach.

"Hey- uh.. are you ok?" Anton asks, but the robot didn't seem to hear him as he continued his pacing.

Was it pacing? He kinda looked like he was just mimicking comic book poses...

"Seriously- do you need, like- help?"

Mechanical or not, it can't feel good to have a bar shoved through your flesh- plating? Plating.

Billy Kid's movements had stilled, positioned in just the right way that Anton had a front row seat to the way the rebar mangled through the metal. Oil stained the surrounding plates like blood.

"That looks really bad, dude!"

Robots were not his area of expertise, Anton is big enough to admit that, but- well.. he knew the basics! Hanging around Grace for any extended amount of time would give anybody that knowledge.

Offering couldn't hurt, right...?

"I'm a mechanic, you know, I could-"

"DO YOU MIND? CAN'T A GUY MONOLOGUE IN PEACE ANYMORE!?"

Was he seriously-!?

"YOU HAVE REBAR THROUGH YOUR STOMACH!"

The robot looks down, his arms falter from their accusing whirl, and of course- of course, he pokes it.

He pokes the rebar sticking out of his plating.

"...look at that."

Anton is catching him before he's even realized he's moved.

And fuck, he's glad to have muscles. Billy Kid was made of pure reinforced metals, slotted together in just the right way to allow flexibility any starting gymnast would be jealous of; if Anton wasn't used to hauling high density materials around on the daily, he probably would've felt this harder.

"Guess even robots can crash out, huh...?" he finds himself chuckling, a little uneasy about the limp mass he was currently supporting, "Are you-"

"Android," Billy Kid interrupts him, for the second time in their incredible short interaction so far, "I'm- an android."

His voice is concerningly weak, likely feeling the full effects of his messed up wiring as his adrenaline left, and there's a million other things the mechanic should be focusing on right now but-

"What's the difference?" is the first thing out of his mouth.

"What's the difference between you and a bear?"

And... oh.

He had never thought about it that way.

Anton thinks of Belobog Heavy Industries, thinks of Ben Bigger and of every thiren and pet and stray he's come across in his 20 something years of life.

Billy Kid wasn't asking if Anton was the same as a bear. He was asking how he was different from other organic life.

"Huh," he ponders, adjusting his grip on the less than lucid android, "Touché."

Ah- he should probably get the marksmen off his pecs.

In a fluid lift, Anton had Billy Kid's arm draped over his shoulder instead. He thinks he vaguely heard him mutter something like 'what the fuck' buuuut he chalks it up to delirium.

Probably due to the sluggishly leaking impalement in his torso- that stained Anton's pants and was now staining his jacket. Eh, it was just oil.

"That looks really bad, bro..."

Could androids bleed out? Would Belobog Heavy Industries be on the receiving end of the Cunning Hares wrath if their favorite big brother died?

Well- of course, they would. They'd probably also face the wrath of the Sons of Calydon if Billy Kid died and Anton was the only one with oil on his hands.

Jeez...

"Come on, lets get you out of this Hollow and I can-"

"NO!"

And that makes three times the android had interrupted him..

This time though, it was like some sort of switch had flipped in his processors. Billy Kid was practically throwing himself away from the mechanic- clawing at Anton's shoulder, reaching for the fucking rebar-

"No... my team- the girls, I can't. There's someone-" the words stab at something squishy in Anton's chest, but he wrestles Billy Kid's hand away anyway.

"There's someone after my family-"

"I think they're after you, actually!"

Footsteps- muffled and creeping, but undeniably footsteps closing in on the two. Had been for the past ten minutes.

Should he have paid it closer mind? Probably.

Would he get an earful from his own team when he got back? Absolutely.

Maybe Grace would be more lenient if she heard it was for an android...

BANG!

...

. . .

FUCK, THAT WAS LOUD.

Who fires a gun next to someone's ear?

thud.

.....Anton is very grateful he was not the intended target, all of the sudden. Definitely not because of the smoking hole left in their possible assailant.

"There's two more," Billy Kid rasps, finally stopping his stupid struggle for the rebar, "One behind the pipes.. one around the corner."

"...I know we just met, but I'm extremely grateful you work for the Cunning Hares.."

He gets a dry chuckle in return- still raspy and weak, but.. lucid. Enough.

"What do you need me to do?" Anton asks.

"Hold me up."

And Anton did.

Nobody messed with the Cunnings Hares family and got away with it after all.

[astroels]

hey, i just wanna make sure this will be okay with you! i wanna send in a request where the reader has HEAVY symptoms of/like borderline personality disorder and farmhouse!ellie helps and understands, etc!! because ive shown ALOT of symptoms of it, but i haven’t been able to go to doctors about it :( i am totally down with helping you with this request (only if you are comfortable doing this!)

(anyone who’s sees this, pls DONT take offense to this and please don’t have a go at me (cause it won’t end well, & obviously, it will just send me in to a deeper and darker hole, that im already in!!) and to this kind human who’s writing this!! just be kind, im currently experiencing this for such a long ass time now and it’s such a tough battle, and it’s a heavy and deep journey).

here’s some topics i can help with:

(this is what i experience personally)

- splitting // seeing someone or something (like a situation) either good or bad, it can NEVER be seen in between). this makes asking for advice or reading someone or the situation to be dealt with A LOT more harder… cause i only want one answer, it can be in the middle. it MUST be a yes or no, i hope that makes sense?

- dissociation // feeling disconnected with your senses, can’t tell which is which and it’s incredibly hard to snap out of it.

- heavy feelings of emptiness // having a lack of purpose in general, it’s irritating when you can’t properly and very physically feel your intense emotions :(

- fear of abandonment // scared of ending up alone, just like what ellie said (that’s what ellie and reader can bond over w? or understand about the reader).

- emotional instability - disturbed patterns of thinking or perception – "cognitive distortions" or "perceptual distortions" impulsive behaviour. intense but unstable relationships with others.

- paranoid ideation // when im constantly scared or suspicious being secretly followed, plotted against, always in a constant state of deep anxiety.

- unstable/intense relationship // with me experiencing such intense emotions, etc. this can creat so much short, unstable and intense relationships with anyone i come across in life. // the readers first actual long healthy loving relationship with ellie is her first :(

- sh behaviors… (pls dont do this, if this triggers you)

could you possibly add in about ellies drawings/journal about the reader and bpd… to help her understand and help around the farmhouse for the reader. ellie and tlou helps me so much in so many ways. (abt me and my mind) bc i feel like her drawing about reader and the symptoms/memories of ellie being here can help me so much :)

𝐄𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐞 𝐖𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐦𝐬 𝐱 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

a/n: I tried to touch on topics that you mentioned and with information I'm aware of since I have a friend with bpd, if anyone has a problem with this, do let me know, I am in no means writing this to be disrespectful or stereotypical, I just hope someone is able to find comfort in this :)

cw: arguments, mentions of sh (i will mark when it shows up), joel is dead in this (sorry joel)

apocalyptic!au

At first, having to hide your disorder from Ellie was a struggle. There was an intense fear that came with the idea that Ellie would back off as soon as she found out it. It was hard enough to mask the feeling, and even harder when you felt the symptoms that ruined previous relationships ooze into your current one with Ellie. Eventually, you just couldn't hide it anymore. You had to be honest even if rejection was a likely path.

"Ellie, I really need to talk to you." It'd come out in a burst of impulsiveness, no longer being able to keep it from her. From where you were laying on her lap, you'd straighten, looked down, besides her, anywhere where you didn't have to face her.

"What's up?" She'd be looking at you intently, with the shine in her eyes that showed she was curious as to what was to come and her voice gentle, as she naturally was with you.

"I really can't hold it together anymore, I struggle." You paused, didn't everyone? The words felt thick in your throat. You continued after cleaning your throat. "Mentally, 'm pretty sure it's borderline personality disorder, and theres no way to help it." Ellie stared at you, expressionless, waiting for you to continue. "It's always been there, before you, these past few weeks, and when I'm alone. I feel so trapped, Ellie." Everything you said came out rushed, in raspiness, in choked sobs that this was the end of a relationship that could've been something better in your life. "I'm not okay and I'm probably not something you want to deal with." You didn't think she wanted more baggage in this already ruined world.

Ellie didn't speak. Were you too honest? Were you too blunt? Too clingy in such a short time? What was wrong with you? A second passed by with you left in thought. "Oh, baby." Ellie pulled you in, letting you breathe in the slight dirt scent that lingered on her shirt.

She held you for awhile, allowing your tears to ease into falters before speaking again. She pulled away, her hands on your cheek, wiping the last of your tears. "You've never felt like someone I've had to deal with. Disorder or not, I'm going to stay with you, okay?"

Incredible doubt still filled your mind, her words seeming to just sink into you and not touch where it mattered. "What if you realize I'm not worth it? What if you leave? I can't handle that Ellie." You said in almost a whisper, her love was too good to be true, everyone always left when they found out the reality of your behaviors and emotions.

"You're worth more than you realize, baby. I promise you, as long as you need me, I'll always need you. We're going to do this and learn together." She'd caress your cheek, calming you with the sensation of her touch. "And besides, I'm just as scared of losing you." She'd give you a slight smile followed by a kiss on the cheek to lighten the mood. Ellie wouldn't dare make you feel like something she'd have to "deal" with. After your first mention, she picked up books from Jackson to further look into it.

Even if you knew the farm was strayed away from any communities, and it was very unlikely that any infected would stray towards the farm, the anxiety swelled up in you. It was so easy to lose Ellie and everything you've grown together, just by a simple mistake of overestimating your safety. It happened often when you'd hear a noise at night and couldn't sleep, saw something move quickly in the corner of your eye, or even when Ellie was gone for too long. Your fear would turn into forms of skin picking and eventually lead into panics that induced loss of breath and worry. Ellie, of course, did her best to help you through these panics.

You hated bothering Ellie with how you felt, but you promised her you'd be more open and try to be communicative instead of shutting off when something was happening. You kept hearing it, the clicking noise that was going to cause your death any second now.

"Ellie," you whispered, rocking her arm a bit to wake her. Her eyebrows slightly furrowed in sudden wake. Her green eyes looked pretty hazy, but she quickly rose when she saw the shakiness your body was in.

" 's the noise again, baby?" She leaned to her side to pick up her glass of water, offering it to you. Supposedly, fresh water was supposed to cool the body, along with the scent of herbs. Ellie had you trying natural supplements while she found a trader who had medication. All you could form was a simple nod after you drank from her water, your throat burning from anxiousness.

That was all Ellie needed to understand what to do. It'd happened before, and she was glad you woke her up this time. Ellie scootched closer to you, allowing your head to fall on her lap. There was no way to block the noise but to fill the silence.

Ellie took it upon herself to play with your hair, leaving tingles all across your head, and singing for you, songs she created, songs she found, songs Joel had sang for her. She filled the room with her voice to block the outside noises that burdened their mark in your mind. " 's gonna be okay, baby." Her sensation eventually soothed you. Even on rough nights, she didn't give up on helping you.

With BPD, there were empty days, days where you couldn't reciprocate anything, days where everything seemed challenging, it wasn't something you felt you could do. Completing any farm task became a haze. You mentally weren't present in the day. The things you could do seemed to be done messily, which made your helplessness feel even worse.

You knew it was time to get up, time to water the plants, fetch the clothing from the line, and prepare lunch, but you couldn't. If you tried in a state like this, everything would go bad and end up sending you into spiral. Ellie's words passed through your mind. " 'ts alright babe, only do what you can, when you can." She made sure to tell you it was okay, but you still felt useless tucked into bed while she was out hunting and fetching things from Jackson.

You decided to go downstairs and start on some laundry. It's the least you could do to stay organized at such a time. Ellie had been gone for a while now, the hallow feeling inside you carved deeper each moment you felt the absence of her. She couldn't fix you, but the knowledge that she was around made it the tiniest bit better.

A load of laundry was done when you decided to just get back in bed. There was no use fighting what was inevitable. Time passed as if you were watching a train, you weren't moving, but time surely was. You spent the rest of the day wating for Ellie, growing impatient in the increasing grayness.

While looking at the window, the sound of a door rattling burst your train of thought. Ellie's voice of letting you know she was home was faint. Would she notice that today was an off day? Would she be as caring as the other days? You heard her making her way upstairs momentarily.

The moment she walked in, she glanced at you and spoke with a gentle tone, pushing you into a cloud. "Hey baby, how're 'y holding up?" She continued around the room to change, leaving herself in a tank top and pj shorts. Your silence spoke volumes, you just couldn't respond. Your voice didn't want to be heard, it felt trapped in your throat. You nodded at her, making eye contact as reassurance you weren't mad, just drained.

Ellie grew understanding of these times, whether they lasted for days to weeks, she was there. She got into bed with you, seeking your warmth for a little while before she had to make dinner. She knew you didn't take care of yourself properly these days, so it was most obvious that she'd be right at your service, asked or not.

Arguments were not a likely thing to happen, but that didn't remove the possibility of it. Sometimes, you just couldn't help the feelings that bubbled up and were unstoppable. It came from stress, irritation, or just something Ellie said that sounded off putting. This part was the hardest for Ellie to communicate through, as she has her own communication issues; However both of you shared a fear factor of being abandoned. This alone gave the courage to work through the outbursts. Hard to handle, but ultimately manageable. (Tw for sh starts here, head to next section to skip)

Ellie had traded some time ago for pills, they were supposed to stabilize your mood, they really just made you unable to think as much and light headed. It wasn't the best medication, but it's as far as a post-apocalyptic world could provide. At first you took them daily as suggested, but when you learned Ellie had given one of her knives joel had crafted before he died, immense guilt filled you everytime you took one or even looked at them. The thought Ellie gave up something so special for you, made you nauseous.

In guilt of her action, you "forgot" to take them for several days, possible weeks. You thought if you were less dependent on them, Ellie wouldn't have to trade something like that again. What didn't cross your mind was Ellie noticing the difference of you on and off the meds. She noticed the way your irritation and mood swings became intense, noticed the way you pushed her away more often. The truth would come crashing down once the both of you made a wrong tone.

You were putting away dishes when Ellie approached you. "Tommys' invited me over tomorrow, said he's gonna talk to me about something." You usually wouldn't be annoyed at Ellie's absence but she'd hardly been home all week and you felt discarded. "Okay." Was all you could form in a rude tone. The actions of you putting away the glasses became unconsciously harsher. "Okay?" Ellie eyed you. You gave her a look and continued with the dishes.

The silence rung in your ear, you felt hot, the warmth crawling up your neck. Before you realized, a glass shatterd on the floor and made you wince. You cursed under your breathe while Ellie spoke out. "What the fuck is up with you?" Her eyebrows were furrowed and her tone was slightly impatient. "Nothins' up." You made your way to the kitchen doorway to grab a broom. "Look, I can't be doing this." You heard Ellie sigh. "You're gonna have to speak up." You hated the way your heart felt so heavy, you didn't want to "speak up", you wanted everything to end already.

You turned to look at her. "I know about the pills, Ellie." Ellie looked like she had an arrow of shock hit her. You continued to speak after a moment. "I don't want to take them if it means you'll be sacrificing things like that."

Ellie was biting the inside of her cheek, her face looking frustrated above anything. "I don't want to exhaust you any longer, I can't do it to you, Ellie." You stared at her for any signs of reading how she felt. No effort could ever tell you what she was thinking. "What's done is done, just take the fucking pills." Her tone seemed increasingly harsh. "No, Ellie, I don't want to burden you any longer."

"You've already become a fucking burden, 's too late to worry about that now." Your heart dropped. Out of everything she could've said, you never thought it'd come to that. You could tell she regretted it by the way she gasped and immediately started attempting to apologize, but you couldn't anymore. You had already began to run up the stairs into the bathroom, your mind ringing with her words. If you were a burden, it'd be better to stay in there and rot away.

You were left alone in the bathroom with your thoughts, alone with your hidden "safety" kit, if you could call a box that held such a harmful purpose, safe. But it's okay because this never left you, this was always there for you. It would just be this time you told yourself; you needed the comfort.

You knew how to clean up well, the only way Ellie would notice is if she really looked. She would probably check, considering she knew your destructive behavior. You wish you could feel pity over yourself for relapsing, but it just felt so numbing, It took no effect.

A sudden knock frightened you as you scrambled to put away all your materials. "Baby, will you please come out." You didn't know how to respond. Now that she was here, you knew how disappointed she'd be about what you did. Not telling her wasn't an option, you'd feel like a liar. "You're not a burden babe, I promise you you're not." She sounded stuffy as if she'd been crying. You couldn't ignore her for long, simply unlocking the door as an invitation.

Ellie quickly opened the door and brought you into a hug. You didn't hug back, but she understood. You stood there wondering if she'd hate you. Would she finally let you go? No, you couldn't keep doing this to yourself. You let yourself sink in her arms, crying. Her words are the last thing you remembered for the next days that passed like a fever dream. "I love you, my angel."

You never understood how quickly Ellie was able to adapt to your mania and depressive episodes. It was quite a lot to deal with and retain. You never understood until you found her journal she'd left out. You were cleaning up the table as your eyes found their way to her open words and drawings. She had thoughts, lists, notes about what was okay, not okay, what helped you, what hadn't. It was awfully sweet, she really cared and it showed. You didn't know how you manged to make her your girlfriend, her beauty and love always made your heart flutter.

Ellie once asked you to be the star of her nude drawing, as hesitant as you were, you trusted her with all your insecurities. She never showed you the drawing though, not until you came across it yourself. She portrayed your body lovingly, the curves of your skin rolled naturally, your stretch marks defining the growth you've gone through, your scars drawn fluidly. Did she really picture you like this? Did she really think you were this worth drawing for? Your heart felt warm, knowing this was how she thought of you.

The other drawings were full of you doing activities, playing with a stray cat that lingered your farm for a few months, watering the plants, petting the sheep, dancing with music, and laying on the grass. Every moment you could picture with her was sketched right in front of you.

Along the pages, there were separate sections that divided different things about your bpd.

What makes it worse

Being too touchy when she's irritated

The smell of cinnamon (oddly specific)

The pink pills

When a straight answer isn't given

What helps

Occasional weed usage (don't overuse !!)

Baths (most of the time)

The texture of her favorite sweater ( W symbol)

Treating her gentle (not too gentle)

Things to mention (that might help)

The new pill

Herbs for sleeping tea

New hobbies

Music record I found

Chore separation (on a normal day)

E- Herding sheep, hunting, fetching supplies, organizing imports

R- washing clothes, watering plants, hunting, feeding sheep

Both- Making food, cleaning, looking out for infected

surprise plans

Candlelit picnic dinner while watching meteor shower (Wednesday)

sensual massage ;)

bath with the relaxant oils I found

dancing to the record she liked but we broke (found another)

giving her the ring

[adissonsss]

PT1: Headcanons(NSFW) How Bill Kaulitz(any era) would be like in bed

Notes; This is a 150 like special! I know that 150 likes isn't at all much, but for me it is, considering I just started writing on tumblr like a week ago. Thank y'all SO MUCH!

•This post should be longer than the usual(😚❤)

•I only have 2(two) people for my current taglist.. Does anyone else want to be added?

•There is 3 sections for gender specified headcanons (male, fem, gn)

•Enjoy, much love💜💜!

•This man in bed is a switch(imo). He dislikes what you dislike and likes what you like

^(obviously if you piss him off or there's some other situation, he'll be a different guy but that's for later😛)

•With Bill as a dom, there's either a service dom, mean dom or soft dom...

^He's usually a service or soft, not wanting to deny you your usually given pleasure(s), give you any pain or sadness, and just overall hurt you in any way

•You can tell he's close and overstimulated becaue he stops talking in english, whines, and stutters in German

•Praise+dirty talk is what Bill is all about;

"You're doing so good for me, schatz." (🙏🏻💗)

"Ich liebe dich so sehr, meine liebe." (💜💜)

Fem section;

•Face-sitting. (I WILL DIE ON THIS HILL). He will die a happy and fed man between those legs of yours.

^"I'm too heavy..."

^"I'll hurt you.."

^"You wouldn't be able to breathe.."

^Yeah, about that.. Bill doesn't give a fuck, and doesn't wanna hear that bullshit again.

•Please, just give this man what he wants, which is your (actually his) pussy.

•He loves your cunt; he's licking, tugging, teasing, slobbering, and kissing, and whining all over the area

^(can and will cum from being in-between your legs just hearing your noises and tasting your sweet cum)

•He adores your tits and nips, no matter the size

•Loves them so much you'd probably start lactating from his constant affection(I'll make a seperate post abt this bc😚😚)

^(he believes in free the tits, but that's only because his hands and mouth get to become the bra)

•If you are smaller/shorter/skinner than him, he WILL have a size kink

^(pressing onto your stomach where he can barely see his bulge sticking out, comparing hand sizes while you see stars, shoving you into positions you can't even fathom)

•Spells his name w/ his tongue onto your cunt

Gender Neutral section;

•He's touchy and needy, gripping all over your body, skimming his hands all over your folds, licking and kissing all over your skin

•He'll leave bruises, bite markes, hickies, and scratches that'll be a reminder to y'all for days

•The. Tongue. Piercing. It'll feel like heaven every single time!!!

•Please. Please, tug on his hair. He can and will whine!! (bucks his hips aswell)

•Kisses your head and smooths out your hair when y'all are done, looking at you w/ a soft smile, wiping you down with a cloth, bringing you water, and cuddles you with your body laying ontop of him

•Let's say your playfully flirting with a guy, and Bill is totally pissed. He's decided he's not letting you cum tonight, so he edges you until you beg, and you beg, and you BEG.

Male section;

•Toys, toys, toys

•He will recommend jerking eachother off

•Teases + edges you like it's nobody's business

•Loves it messy, slobbery, and chaotic

•This is where I can imagine mean/hard dom!Bill comes into play...

^(him denying your orgasm over and over and over again, using a vibrator all over your messy and bright red tip, just admiring you, how exhausted and overstimulated you look, and probably are)

•The tongue piercing, again.

-

•I hope this was enjoyable☺️! I tried my best🙏🏻, this was my first time writing for smut.

•I don't know German, so please excuse it if anything is wrong

G to E Translation;

Schatz = Treasure, sweetheart, dear

"Ich liebe dich so sehr, meine liebe." = I love you so much, my love.

Taglist;

@ilovebill-and-gustav

@limaswife

[cream-and-tea]

the nature of thinking about the later ghost story books is that i inevitably get plagued by fiverthoughts it’s happening right now i can feel it happening right now and i can’t even be mad that it’s distracting me from the current plot bc like. oh my god. ohhhh my god. the thing about fiver is that he is simultaneously very false and deeply, achingly, sincere in basically everything he does. like every third word out of that man’s mouth is just a plain bald-faced lie that he tells with total confidence while fully aware that he’s lying and what impact it will have, but at the same time he’s only motivated by his emotions, and he feels everything to an extreme degree. he’s interesting to write bc he really truly does NOT have any ulterior motives or greater plan he’s working towards despite keeping so many plot-relevant secrets and being so cagey about his past. in reality his primary motivation is just how much he wants absolutely NOTHING to do with any of the larger plot. he sees an event that feels like it will have consequences for the world at large and starts sprinting in the opposite direction he is! not! looking! he does! not! fucking! see! it!!!! after [REDACTED] happened and he started getting visions he did everything in his power to avoid anything that might feature in them and steer others away from those outcomes. he believes he can build a place that the world won’t be able to touch where him and the people he loves will be safe and he will draw any blind bolt any door ignore any sign twist any truth to make it happen!!!! that’s the only reason he does it. that’s literally all he wants. and idk i know i’m the one writing him but i can’t decide whether that makes the whole situation better or so much worse.

[wolfsbanesparks]

Bouncing in here like a madman again

Do you think Captain Marvel (seperate from Billy) considers the Wizard SHAZAM as their father as a sort of creator and creation relationship? Giving room for Billy and grandpa wizard relationship kinda?

I've had a lot of sugar today, so I'm not sure how that sounds, but I kept thinking about your fic, "Split", and how if things took a different turn and Captain Marvel revealed he existed because of the Wizard, would the JL come to the assumption that the wizard was his father/Billy's grandfather?

Or if things took an angstier turn, if Captain Marvel let slip accidentally that he didn't believe that the death of Billy's mother (and actual father) was a genuine accident/had suspicions about it, how would they react? Would they suspect the wizard bc of all the suspicions they're having? Also, I'm not sure if I remember, but did the JL get to have a conversation with the wizard?

Kinda factors into that one ask I sent before, where the gods killed the parents of the champions of magic to challenge and prepare them without them knowing, which might include the wizard, too. (Sorry, I re watched the Guardians of the Galaxy 2 recently and it's been doing numbers on my little mind)

In all seriousness you could write an AU for your fics and we'd eat it all up and ask for seconds because your writing creates a universe of wonder for us.

That was a lot, wow :0

Okay first of all you are so sweet! It's driving me crazy (in a good way) that I can discuss AUs of my fics!

I think that the Wizard already plays a sort of wise grandfather figure to Billy (in my preferred version of him) regardless of Captain Marvel's feelings towards the Wizard.

But I think it's totally logical for Captain Marvel to think of the Wizard as a creator figure, especially in his current incarnation since it was just Shazam who made him instead of a full Wizard's Council. There's respect between them, but Marvel also wants to make Shazam proud, wants to prove he's a good Champion. And I think that can translate to a father-son type dynamic even if it's a lot more complicated than that.

If we're talking Split in particular, the JL "met" the Wizard but Shazam didn't bother talking to any of them so their many confusions and suspicions didn't get brought up to him directly.

But if they had reason to believe Shazam was Marvel’s father, Flash in particular would have been having a freak out because the Wizard would have gone from possibly sketchy mentor to controlling and possibly abusive father/grandfather. He might have even had more people on his side if that was the case (especially if we add in the idea that the Batsons were killed as some kind of test of Billy’s pure heart).

There would still be those who insist that they shouldn't get in the middle of their complicated and potentially messy family situation. But there would also be those who wonder if Marvel had a choice in becoming a hero if his father was the one who imbued him with his powers because it was his "destiny". I can definitely picture Marvel bluescreening if someone asked him if he'd had a choice in being a hero (he didn't, and Billy didn't either) or if he'd ever wanted something else for himself (it had never occurred to him that he could be anything else because he was created to fight evil). His answer would definitely send up some red flags to whoever he's talking to.

There are so many cool ways having people think Shazam is Marvel’s father could play out and it would be so fun to explore that.

And since you mentioned it, while I don’t currently have plans to write an AU of my fics, I AM completely open to other people writing AUs of my fics if they are inspired enough to do it! So long as you credit me as the original author/check the Inspired By box when you post, I encourage you to go for it!

[creadigol]

i adore your writing!! it's so fantastic!! could you maybe do something involving a grumpy x sunshine pairing with one of them being targeted by a killer, like in a slasher movie? but you totally don't have to if you don't want to!

Thank you so much! I must admit that I have never tried my hand at a slasher type genre, but I have always wanted to give it a go. And you must have read my mind bc a grump X sunshine pairing is my absolute favorite! I hope y’all like this! So sorry for the long wait!

Warning: There is blood, gore, and obsessive characters in this one. Please take care while reading if those are sensitive issues. Love y’all! 

I decided to try this with a few original characters I made for a story I’m currently working on. So, the characters are mine, but this amazing idea is all this anonymous sender! 

It was so silent they not only heard it, but felt it. 

The dark of the closet was cut only by the thine stream of light the crooked door frame provided. Leo thought his heart would beat right out of his chest, but he still resisted the urge to gulp in breaths like his panic so desperately wanted him to. 

How had they not seen? In retrospect it was oh so obvious. Everyone Leo had ever become close to, everyone who he had expressed even the slightest interest in romantically ended up dead or severely injured. It was a nightmare in the truest sense. But, the “accidents” had always seemed just that. Just accidents. 

God, he should have listened to Joshua when he warned him. If Leo had only just listened and not been so damn trusting they wouldn’t be in this situation right now. What was wrong with him anyway? Why did Leo feel the need to be liked by everyone all the time?! He was charismatic, outgoing, an insatiable flirt, and he always connected with whomever he was with. He was extremely well liked. Too liked. 

He had never meant for someone to like him that much. He had never wanted someone to become obsessed. 

Why couldn’t he be more like Joshua? Joshua who had the scariest resting bitch face. Joshua who rarely laughed unless it was with his family or Leo. Joshua who was known not only to make suspects wet themselves, but his own teammates as well. Joshua, who despite being the complete opposite of Leo, was Leo’s closest friend. Leo’s best friend. 

Joshua, who was with Leo now in this shitty broom closet at the shitty air Bnb with a shitty stalker looking for them. 

Leo’s nervousness must have become noticeable as he felt Joshua take a deep breath behind him and place his hand on Leo’s forehead in comfort. The breath was deep, yet silent, a testament to Joshua’s years of training and line of work. Leo felt a pang of envy at his friend’s stoicness. He could feel Joshua’s heart beat between his shoulder blades as his back was uncomfortably pressed against Joshua’s chest. A position they got into when Joshua heard Eddie coming and swiftly grabbed Leo and pulled him into the broom cupboard. 

Strong, steady, and calm. How did Joshua do that when Leo knew for a fact that his best friend was just as freaked out as he was? 

Maybe Joshua could teach him after all this was over. 

If they got out of here that is. 

If they did, they might be the only ones. Eddie had done an excellent job of picking off their merry little group one by one. No phones, no help, just them and the slasher. When Eddie had suggested they take a little vacation it had seemed so fun at the time. Get their group together and rent a cabin, take some time off from their various jobs, plan what the New Years party was going to be…God, Leo should have known! 

There’s a difference between a personal assistant knowing things about you, and them knowing everything about you. But Leo had never had an assistant before Eddie, he didn’t know that Eddie was too attentive compared to the normal kind. 

“We’ll wait him out, then look for the others,” Joshua whispered. It was so quiet that Leo was sure he wouldn’t have heard it except for Joshua’s face against his ear. 

But what would they find? Already three were dead, perhaps more. Bobby, Jared, and…and…Karen. She had been the worst of them. And why? Just because Leo dared to take a girlfriend? 

He couldn’t help a tear trailing down his face as his empathy went overboard. How scared they must have been. How betrayed. 

Joshua must have noticed, because his arm around Leo tightened and his face pressed closer to his ear. 

“It’s going to be okay. We’ll get through this. We always do,” he whispered again. Leo only nodded slightly, not trusting his broken voice to be quiet enough to respond. 

Joshua seemed like he was about to whisper something else when he abruptly stopped. It took Leo a second to realize why. There in the kitchen, just feet from them, there was movement, the sound of the kitchen door closing and locking. Shuffled footsteps and a scraping sound. 

What was that scraping sound? 

Oh god, it was a butcher’s knife. A butcher’s knife being drawn against walls and cabinets as the holder walked by. 

Eddie was in the room! 

Both Leo and Joshua stopped breathing as they listened. 

“Leo” came the smooth sing-song voice. “I know you’re in here.”

Leo stiffened, but Joshua held fast so no sound was made. 

“Come on man,” Eddie continued. “I know how it seems now, but that’s just because you’ve always been surrounded by poisonous people. Once it’s just you and me you’ll understand. Don’t worry, I’ll teach you… And you’ll enjoy it.” 

Now it was Joshua who stiffened. His grip on Leo started to shake and Leo knew it wasn’t in fear. 

Joshua was pissed. Scratched that, Leo felt the heat radiating off Joshua’s face, he was furious.

The scraping stopped just in front of the broom cupboard. 

“Oh, well that’s just too cute. Hiding with the brooms?” 

Before Eddie could open the door, Joshua’s leg shot out from beside Leo and kicked the door with enough force to splinter the wood. 

Eddie must have been close as he was shot back by the power of it and was sent tumbling into the stove. 

Joshua wasted no time in practically picking up Leo and pushing them both from the cupboard, then immediately positioning Leo away from Eddie. 

Eddie was a terrible sight. Covered in blood which was not his own, clutching the offending knife in a slick grip, while ginning uncontrollably in a way that Leo thought was only possible for bad actors in horror films. 

“Joshua!” Eddie greeted spreading his arms out in a welcoming manner. “I should have known you’d be with him. Always together you two aren't cha?” 

Leo glared at Eddie as Joshua positioned himself in a defensive stance. 

“Why Eddie?” Leo asked, hoping to take the attention away from Joshua. It was easy, Eddie immediately gave Leo his unwavering gaze. 

“Why what my dear?” Eddie asked. 

Leo shuddered at the endearment. Something he himself had called Karen not twelve hours ago. 

“Why do this? Any of this? Wasn’t I a good boss? Did I do something wrong? Lead you on in some way? What did anyone else do to deserve this?” Leo kept his focus on Eddie, hoping Joshua had some sort of plan. 

“No, no, no, no, no!” Eddie actually looked concerned. “You’ve done nothing wrong! You could never do anything wrong. You just don’t know how to take care of yourself. But that’s okay! Because I do! I was made for you! I was made to take care of you! Every sunshine needs a sky to hold it. I’m your sky!” 

Leo paled more if it were possible. Eddie was…Eddie was…fuck, how did someone get this crazy? 

“Eddie, that doesn’t make sense. You don’t need to take care of me! You’re my assistant, not my mother!” 

Eddie laughed, actually laughed. “Not your mother! Your everything! Just as you’re my everything. I know all there is to know about you. No one else could care more than I do.” 

“And this is how you care?” Joshua spat. Eddie tilted his head towards him. “Look at him Eddie! He’s terrified! Is this how you want him to feel if you care so much?” 

And Eddie did look back at Leo. He looked right into Leo’s terrified eyes and seemed to see them for the first time. 

“Leo,” he whispered. “Are you scared of me?” 

Leo nodded, his whole body shaking. “Yes,” he whispered. 

Eddie lowered the knife to his side and stretched out his hand while walking towards Leo, as if to touch his face and comfort him like in some kind of sick romcom. 

Just as Joshua knew he would. 

The moment the knife was lowered, Eddie made it only a step towards Leo before Joshua was on him and the fight began. 

It was like a convoluted and vile dance. One that Leo wanted to join in and help Joshua, but couldn’t see when or where. He wasn’t trained like Joshua, he only knew the few basic self defense moves Joshua taught him over the years. 

There was no yelling or talking, just pained grunts and rage filled battle curses. 

It seemed to last a lifetime. 

Then, there it was, an opening! 

Joshua kicked the knife from Eddie’s hands and slashed at him with their car keys to the car Eddie had cut the wires on this morning. 

Eddie slid across the tile floor on his back and before he could get up and go for Joshua again, Leo hit him as hard as he could with a frying pan. It had been hanging over the oven and Leo grabbed it the moment Eddie’s eyes were off him. 

Eddie only had a second to look straight into Leo’s eyes with incomprehension before flopping on the floor limp. 

“Oh my god,” Leo shook as he stood still holding the frying pan. He couldn’t seem to move. 

“Leo,” Joshua limped over to him. He placed a bloody hand on Leo’s white knuckled grip. 

“He was going to kill you…I couldn’t…Oh my god…did I kill him?” 

Joshua knelt down and felt for a pulse. 

“He’s alive.” He stated. Barely, he didn’t tell Leo. 

Leo saw the amount of blood on Joshua. 

“Oh shit, Josh are you…where did he get you?” Leo dropped the pan and went to look over Joshua, hands hovering not knowing what to do. 

Joshua only half smiled and took both of Leo’s hands in his. “Nothing serious. He was too distracted by you. I took the advantage.” 

Leo pulled Joshua into a fierce hug. “Oh, thank god. Thank god, thank god, thank god.” 

They tied Eddie up, searched for their friends, finally found a hidden phone to call for help, and Leo couldn’t help to continue to hear Joshua’s words from the broom cupboard. We’ll get through this. We always do. And they always will.

[elekinetic]

user elekinetic do you have any tips to spare for outlining fics 😭 i feel like I word vomit any of the concept that I have in my head, and dialogue ,and build off that adding paragraphs as I go and I go so slow bc of it. But ive been trying hard lately to write a list of “scenes” and bullet point the story but yeah.

do you know anything that could help me have an idea of where to go start to finish instead of starting at the random spot I’ve come up with first? I waste so much writing time because I haven’t built a backstory for characters and things like that so i don’t always know how they start the story off, only the situation they’re in. Is that something that could help? Making a list for each character or something? Would love to hear your thoughts thank you! <3

hi! first of all i’m so flattered you asked! to be clear, i am a very slow writer too lmao and i’m relatively new to prose writing, and though in very confident in my understanding of what makes a good story (W screenwriting), i am still figuring out my outlining process. but hey! let’s learn together.

sorry in advance for how long this is. i love talking.

so i basically figure everything out in the outline and write after i feel very good about it. if you have a strong foundation, everything gets a hell of a lot easier. t kind of sounds like your process might be similar to mine, so i’m just gonna explain what i'm doing for my current project.

my key document is my “bible.” i split it up into a couple different sections using page breaks (page breaks my best friend ily page breaks):

pitch/word vomit summary

scene ideas

outline

notes

ok so wtf does that mean.

1. pitch/word vomit summary — explain your concept. bc i've got a film/tv background, im starting off with my logline. (e.g. "after robin learns will is gay, they have a heart to heart in an abandoned video store about insecurity and feeling alone. they learn they're not." sometimes i'll follow that up with a note to myself like, "this fic isn't robin finding out, this is what happens after. starts with her already knowing. will pov, focus on his perception of robin changing. subtly reference toward feelings about mike, dont come out (haha) and say it") then, i write as MUCH of the concept down as i can, like i'm explaining it to a friend. (sometimes i copy and paste rants from dms directly into the document). it can be totally out of order, non-sensical, contradictory. just get as many of your ideas down as possible. you want to be able to come back to this and be like, oh i totally forgot about that. vague chapter summaries, personal notes about themes, whatever you want. i have a list of beats that you find in romantic dramas for inspiration and a paragraph abt ways i want to parallel/subvert s3 of st. just. go ham. 2. scene ideas — this is pretty self explanatory. i take some of the stuff i have in the p/s and flesh it out, or put down new ideas. this is where i'm writing out dialogue in bullet points, or what i want them to be Really Saying. (e.g. "mike: [panics bc he feels seen, tries to flip it back on (redacted) and fails] ") this is for when i can see stuff more clearly or i get out of the shower with a whole exchange in my head. gonna be out of order, a little all over the place. 3. outline — so. this is where you start piecing it together. put the bullet points in order. figure out objective of each scene and what needs to happen to accomplish that goal. figure out pacing, what needs to happen when. this step is where im looking at dialogue and thinking "why does mike say that? why does he feel that way? what needs to happen to get him to this point emotionally?" or looking at scenes and thinking "these are two scenes with people arguing back to back. lets make sure they feel different and give the characters different tactics to get what they want (byler argument where mike is avoiding will vs max argument where max is avoiding lucas. i could use this to highlight similarities and differences in the relationships, but having two scenes with the same tactics back to back might feel repetitive. maybe i move the scenes farther apart or change circumstances. maybe mike and will are having a veiled argument while theyre with a group of friends in a public space and max and lucas' argument is outside max's house.) also asking if conflicts are resolved too quickly, if the miscommunications feel too convenient, if characters disappear or are only around as plot devices. write. troubleshoot. repeat. 4. random notes — everything else that doesnt fit. for me this is literally just taylor swift lyrics (writing the fic vaguely off of a Specific Song that SHOULD BE STREAMED MORE WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU PEOPLE anyway) and links to posts i use as character reference to make sure im staying true to the characters. (remembering will said "i was being a total jerk to el, i deserved it," AND "you're ruining everything, and for what!"/"i wasn't moping!")

i want it to be clear im doing all of this at the same time. im jumping around and pulling new ideas and rearranging as stuff changes. i think the thing that's really hard is that i want to be able to sit down, write the outline, and then move on. but for us scatterbrained writers, you're gonna have to re-outline and readjust like. a thousand times. and that's okay. that's good! it feels tedious as hell but the story is so much better for it.

take your time. let yourself be slow. keep finding holes in your story and fill the world in as you fix them.

here are some more questions i ask myself to make the story better:

What are you trying to accomplish over the course of the story? What is it about? (for the will&robin fic, it was something about feeling seen for the first time.) When you get lost in your story or aren't sure why a scene feels stale, come back to this. is the scene furthering that goal?

What is changing internally for each of your main characters? (yes theyre dating by the end but like. what do they learn.)

Are the side characters people or props? (will pov scene of a party-wide picnic where everyone's talking but will is focused on mike's hands.... where is max's head at in the scene? you don't have to have a super long backstory and she doesn't have to be a big part of the plot, but if she's saying something, figure out why she's saying it. if will is having a heart to heart with el, understand why el is responding the way she is. the scene's goal may be to get will through a breakthrough, but el's circumstances will change in the scene too. figure out how this conversation lands with her. oh, and remember the adults are people too!)

Why is this character saying this/why are they responding this way? (this should answer your "where do i start?" question. start in that random spot and figure out A) why they are there and B) why they are reacting the way they do (see last bullet point).

side note: some of the best advice i ever got was "enter the scene late, exit early." skip the prologue. try starting from that random spot. if it feels like something's missing, figure out exactly what that something is, and go from there

Do the stakes feel high enough?

What do i need to set up to make sure this scene/beat is satisfying as possible? (are will and mike going to have a big argument? oh, so we have to show tension before.... BAM you have another scene to write and your outline is fuller)

i could go on a lot longer but. basically.

i edit while i write. i'm someone who needs a very fucking strong outline and a very fucking clear idea of the story before i can start writing it. i'm putting probably 70-80% of the leg work in at the start so i can focus on making the prose (or script, most of the time) the best it can be.

THAT BEING SAID, this is just the way i do it and i have like. a fic and a half published. im taking my sweet time bc im creatively burned out and this is for fun first and foremost. like i said. i am a Very Slow Writer.

i highly, highly recommend hitting up the ask boxes of writers like @/strangeswift, @/wiseatom, @/astrobei, or @/andiwriteordie. no guarantees on responses bc they are busy ppl with busy lives but i really do think theyre some of the best writers out here right now, and im not just saying that bc they're my friends. abby (strangeswift) and i have been each other's sounding board through a lot of projects and she's almost done with one of her first Big Fics, so its worth asking her about that.

i hope this helps! ah!!

[j4y-lvr]

day flower (alternate ending) … park jongseong

SYNOPSIS. bent over the sink, coughing up petals and blood, you knew that your worst fears had come true.

PAIRING. jay x fem!reader

GENRE. fluff, angst, lovers2?, established!relationship (?), hanahaki au

WARNINGS. profanity, mentions of food, mentions of blood, quite a lot of kissing, possibly making out (?), one mention of loss of weight, graphic, mcd(?), death(?) !!not proofread!!

WORD COUNT. 1.6k (total :: 7k)

NOTE. i just wanted to write something sad and i came up with this,, idk why i chose jay to fit my mental image of this bc its so saddening to even imagine— EVEN THOUGH ITS SAD PLS DO READ😭‼ thoughts on an alternative ending?

Reblogs and feedback are highly appreciated!

iv. wither (alt ver.)

Jay felt like an ass to put it simply. On a deep dive inside his feelings revealed that he wasn't plainly bored at his current relationship rather bored with his stagnant work-life moreover his regulated stress load. Blown over he weighed on going over for the first time in weeks to apologise and win you over though his damage was severe.

The keys jingled in the near distance, jay slipping in through the door, watching as nothing had really moved around in the house. He contemplated on notifying you of his abrupt appearance, opting to slowly creep up the stairs. Unknown to you, you had started coughing again, the strength in your arms to cover your mouth non-existent.

Resulting in the blood coating you and the mattress in a painful fit of red as you sobbed heartbroken to yourself wondering where it went wrong, did he require more space, had you been more mindful would he still be at your side.

Jay stilled on hearing your heart wrenching sobs, the previous hesitance gone as he ran up the stairs and to your situation on the bed stained bed. Having forgotten about your coughing fit of blood through the apparent stress from the separation. 

His sight fell to the canvas in front of him greeting as you cough seized, your eyelids lugging over your glassed over orbs, jay getting to knees as he saw you covered in blood, his hand finding your paint ridden hand. You gave a weak chuckle, "if we ever meet again, I hope it works out then," you say, the diamonds leaving the comfort of your eyes and onto your crimson imposed self. 

Jay heaved from panic, "why didn't you tell me?!" He hurried exclaimed, his hand running down your arm to keep your burning vessel even warmer. Unbeknownst to him he'd been crying and you watched with low eyes close to shutting, your palm lifting up to his tear stricken cheek, "just know," you paused, shutting your eyes completely feeling the life get sucked out of your body. 

"i love you."

"I'm sorry! I was never bored with us to begin with, i wasn't in my right mind, i do love you!"

The reverting of branches in your lungs was faint heard as you experienced multiple waves of pain that had a different accent of beats in your heart, feeling yourself heal internally. Coughing, you requested, "say that again," you managed with your orbs clamping shut from the intermolecular forces shifting the branches out.

"i love you, i love you, i love you! I can't bare to see you like this i'm a real jerk, i'm so sorry darling,"

The corners of your eyes crinkled and you left the last of your sobs, turning away from him and curling into a ball, hiding away from him. He ran over to the other side of the mattress and hopped on, settling an arm over and rubbing your back as you hid in arms, sniffling.

"you're such a dick, i genuinely hope you know." you murmur loud enough for him to hear. Jay frowned and inched closer, clutching you harder, his free hand searching for your face, resting his palm on your cheek, continuing to caress it. "i'm sorry, i'm such a shitty boyfriend."

"elaborate," "on what?"

"on how you're absolute shit," "i'm that bad..?" "as of late."

Gripping your front out of the safe place you'd made for yourself, he brought you to his chest though the blood would stain his clothing, ruffling your hair not minding the blotting. Tugging you away, he brought you to his lips to which you refused, pushing yourself away. He wore a sad smile, "right, take your time."

May with diminishing hope for jay who hadn't given up on trying to win back your heart after crumbling it to pieces. He rented out a nearby apartment and would send you gifts and presents along with his handwritten letters every morning before he left for a tiresome day at work. Day after day, he'd leave them at your doorstep, leaving immediately after ringing on the doorbell.

Today was nothing different. At 8 sharp he'd drop by with a cap covering his face, items in hand, placing them in a hurry, needing to rush to work right after. Not once had you written a reply to his letters, finding it hard to write back to the man who threatened your own living from misjudgement. You watched through the small gap from the window, observing the way he fixatied his letter in the front with a weightsome sign.

He left rather slowly, drifting onto the pavement, shuffling away. Once a good few minutes had passed, you panned open the door, picking up the gifts and his handwritten letter signed up to you. You marvelled at his unwavering hope that you'd cave in even though a month without single response from you passed lestfully.

You placed them in the countertop, unfolding the letter, the usual contents consisting of little inserts of his recent updates and excerpts of his life without you. Though the one you held was shorter than expected, certain parts of the paper were spotted with water of what you suspected to be tears. Your concern spiked, hastily flipping the page over to reveal the written contents in his signature messy handwriting.

"i'll be giving up today. i'll be starting fresh elsewhere, far from here, you don't have to worry about running into me when you're out and about. finally, i'll be quitting my job, it was never for me, i'll go live a quiet life somewhere. I still love you and i will forever. live a good life without me and with someone who can treat you better than i ever did, my dear, yn." — once your shitty boyfriend, jay.

You front fell. This was what you were waiting for, so why were you clutching your mouth in a tight clasp, feeling tears escape your eyes? You didn't know how to take the news, dropping the heartfelt page to the surface, flipping open your door and on your sandals and kicking onto the sidewalk.

Walking in a sped up pace, the wet tears planted over your face, your hand wiping them away as you began jogging, taking a right turn advancing to sprint, spotting his rented out apartment right down the alley. Skipping up the metal stairs you stood before his front door, panting and sobbing all in one, stopping to think about the passcode.

Recalling it for his letter to you from the early days of April when he first bought the unit, stating it was your birthday if you ever felt the need to barge in and make yourself at home. You pressed down on the padded keys, beeping as you left and trailed over the numbers. You entered the last number and a harsh tone buzzed.

He left.

You collapsed to the floor, back to what was once his front door as you hugged your knees while tears ran down your face, clad in your pyjamas from your slumber. Footsteps echoed to your left and you couldn't give a damn as you continued to sob your heart out, grabbing your hair in frustration as you slapped your forehead from regret.

"yn?"

You peered up from your stained clothing and onto the figure who stood by your side. You scurried to your feet upon glimpsing at the stature of your boyfriend, running up to him as you collapsed into him, wrapping your arms around him. "dont leave," you uttered in a broken sob in the day at possibly 8:10am on an unsuspecting date for many.

His arms feel limp to his sides as you pull away softly, peeking at him from your teared eyelashes, solely to find him looking away from you and to the wall that faced you two, droplets of his own trailing down his cheek and onto the cold, hard floor. "no, please, look at me,"

"i can't,"

"please, jay," you voiced desperately, the man attempting to veer his head towards you, failing as he met you in the middle as soon as his eyes met yours, hanging his head low, crying.

Lifting up his head, biting down your lip, watching him refusing to open his eyes and gaze at you. You hesitated for a moment before you embraced him and let your head fall on his shoulder like in the past, your fingers clasping onto his, running another on his hair in a pat repeatedly.

Prying open his glassy orbs, he looked down at you on his shoulder, feeling your tears father and soak into his shirt. He sighed shakily, deciding to act on his desires, bringing you to him once again, just like the month where you rejected his lips, hoping you'd accept this time. If not, he'd leave without a trace.

Hesitation clouded his mind as he stared into your watering eyes. Sensing his present nerves, you slowly placed your palm to him, reaching into him, nearing his chapped lips. You stopped centimetres away, breathing out to his parted mouth. Sealing the deal, you lunged forward, yearning to lean into his touch, his fingertips gripping your shoulder setting to fire. 

You pulled away and breathing in and reached for him again, the lack filling with having, tilting into him as you deepened the kiss, the rushed sentiment healing your lonesome, listless heart with love. He broke off the connection, saliva dripping from the passion and heat between your mouths.

"do you still love me?" you queried, hoping for an affirmation. "yes, like i said, i will forever." "good because I didn't brush my teeth again,"