#actively trying not to overthink because that’s always stopped me from actually living

[artificial-transmutations]

Spice up

Lukas looked at his phone skeptically. He usually didn't believe in those kind of change-your-habits-apps, but his husband, Craig was motivated enough for the two of them.

"So..." Lukas said slowly, "and you are sure this app will help us spice things up a bit in the bedroom?"

Craig blushed. It had taken him a lot of effort to even ask Lukas something like this. The truth was, even though (or perhaps because) they were married for over a year now, there wasn't much going on in the bedroom department. "Not much" was even an understatement. Between their daily lives, Craig's shyness and Lukas overthinking, they had sex twice a year, tops. Even though Craig didn't mind all that much, he suspected that Lukas would be a bit happier if there was more action in their sex lives. So, he suggested the "Change" app, which advertised a big increase in intimate activity in the first few days of using it even.

"Yes, that's what they say. It wasn't that expensive, so let's just try it, okay? It's not that difficult, either. We start the app, and it tells us what to do. The only thing we have to do is do what it says for a few days."

Lukas nodded. His first impulse was to ask how that magical app would even decide without knowing anything about them, but he swallowed his remark. There was no harm in trying for a few days. And perhaps it encouraged Craig to be a bit more active. Lukas was the bottom in their relationship, but Craig was not too keen on getting intimate.

"Okay. Let's do it then." He said, hitting the green "Start" button on his screen, with Craig doing the same.

A few seconds later, Lukas frowned. Mine says: "Work out at the gym. I don't even have a gym membership and I would have to search for my workout clothes. Do you really want to do this?"

"Aw, come on, just try it!" Craig said. "I'm sure they have a day pass. Mine says 'Buy new underwear', which is actually a good idea. Mine is getting a bit thin here and there."

"Okay, okay", Lukas sighed and kissed his husband on the cheek. "See you in a few hours then, I guess."

At the gym, Lukas quickly got changed and went for the treadmill, quickly breaking a sweat. He wouldn't be able to sustain this for long and he really hated it. Just as he was about to take a break, his phone dinged, another message from the app: "Enjoy your workout!"

Yes, the app was probably right, even though he was sure it didn't mean it that way. It made no sense to have a bad mood and he would be stuck here for at least half an hour before he could call it a quit. As he continued to run, his mood got a lot better. He was actually starting to enjoy it!

Ding! Another message, this time from his husband. It was a picture of a bright blue pair of tight underwear. Lukas took a few seconds to answer:

"Not your usual color."

Almost instantly, Craig replied: "I know, but that's what the app suggested. Gtg, more shopping to do."

As Lukas wanted to get back to the treadmill, he looked down on himself surprised. He actually looked rather fit, lean and with subtle hints of definition. That was strange! He had not heard of anyone having that quick successes at the gym. Something was off here!

Ding! Another message from the app: "Stop worrying, start lifting!"

...Yes, why not, decided Lukas. He always wanted to try the weighs and now that he was here, he might as well. Any kind of worry was blown away as he made his way to the weight room.

He had started handling the dumbbells for a few minute, when there was another message from Craig.

"Oh God, I was so ashamed. The app had me going into a sex shop! What if someone saw me?" Was the message, which made Lukas grin. Craig could be so cute and embarrassed.

"What did you buy? I'm sure nobody saw you." He typed, a drop of sweat dripping to his display.

It took a moment for an answer to arrive, time enough for another curl. Finally, a picture arrived that made Lukas almost snort. On the picture was a butt plug in bright red, followed directly by a message:

"Why would I care if anyone saw me ;)"

Lukas didn't worry about the unusual message but replied: "Aww, is that for me?"

"Maybe... The app wasn't clear on that. Anyway, more stuff to do. Keep working out, big guy!"

Big guy? Lukas was hardly what people would call a big guy. Sure, he had his bulging muscles all over his body, and he was a bit bigger due to them than most people, but he was no body builder or something like that.

Ding! "The bench is the perfect place to get bigger. Start pressing and don't think too much!"

That made sense. Lukas made his way to the bench press and started working it with renewed vigor. He quickly got into a good rhythm and could focus entirely on the sensation in his body. No distracting thought or any worries came to mind, he was completely concentrated on his workout. He really couldn't tell how long he was doing it, when he checked his phone. Two new messages, one from the app and one from Craig.

He checked the app first: "You're a really big guy *everywhere*, that's something to be proud of! Who needs a brain when you have brawn, right?"

Lukas chuckled dumbly. Yeah, that was right. He was a really big guy, after all. All muscles, everywhere, and he loved to show them off. Why was he even wearing a shirt? Lukas quickly got rid of it and admired his massive body. It was definitely way bigger than what was practical, he knew he had to fold into most cars and didn't even fit into the smaller ones. He could hardly reach around his torso because of his bulging muscles. Good thing he could still reach his groin. He readjusted himself through his gym shorts. He was positively massive down there as well. Thinking about his muscles always made him chub up a bit, but he didn't care.

Lukas thought really hard for a moment. There was something important he had forgotten. Riiight! The phone. Lukas always had trouble with the small screen and the fragile device, as multiple cracks in the display proved, so he carefully opened the messenger with his tongue between his teeth.

It was a picture of Craig, who had a new haircut. It made his whole face look different, slimmer somehow. As he was looking at the picture, another message came in:

"Enough workout! You are coming home now, I need to replace that plug by something bigger 8===D 🍆🍆🍆"

Almost immediately, another message came in, from the app this time. "Don't you just love to be told what to do, big guy? Good thing you got someone to decide for you!"

Lukas couldn't help it. The demanding tone in the message he got from Sir made him get hard already and a bit of precum leaked into his shorts. He sent a voice message (he really couldn't type on that thing and his messages were always full of mistakes): "Sure thing, boss! Heading to the shower!"

As he made his way to the locker, another message from craig got in: "Skip the shower, Bull! You're coming home right now and you're gonna breed me with that fuckstick of yours, do you understand?" Another picture followed, of Sir sitting on a chair, already kneading his own, of course much smaller cock.

Bull grinned and nodded. It took him a while to understand that Sir couldn't see that, so he nodded again and started to jog home. He couldn't wait to stick his massive cock into Sir's juicy ass. Sir was insatiable and it was his job to provide for that. God, he loved being his Bull.

#male transformation #muscle transformation #dumbing down #sweat #bodybuilder #power bottom

[justimagineok]

2:30 series - dos oruguitas

Summary: One too sure, the other not that much. One focused on the present, the other too stuck on the past and afraid of the future. Both of them in love with each other.

genre: angst :)

A/N: I actually love this song Dos Oruguitas so much!! Let me know if you have any questions ;) as always feedback is always appreciated! feel free to reblog, comment or send me an ask at anytime 😊

“ Two oruguitas Against the weather The wind grows colder But they’re together They hold each other No way of knowing They’re all they have for shelter And something inside them is growing They long to stay together But something inside them is growing

...

Two oruguitas Cocooned and waiting Each in their own world Anticipating What happens after The rearranging? “

"Jeon! Right here!" Jungkook heard you calling out to him while looking for you in the park. The sun was already gone, even though it was 5 pm and the lights in the park were starting to activate. He ran towards you, stopping right in front of you, panting. "Why", he tried to catch his breath. "Why did you call me Jeon?" You smiled, admiring the man in front of you. You had missed him so much. "I figured calling you by your other name would be the best way to avoid anyone recognizing you.", you reasoned, and Jungkook smiled. And here he was again, overthinking something simple. "How's your leg?", you pointed at him, trying to avoid silence at all costs. "It's good, thank you. The doctor said I had a quick recovery. Really impressive according to him.", you hum at his response, and Jungkook doesn't know what to say next. He wanted to apologize again, but  seeing the look on your face, like you were scanning him, waiting for an outburst at any second... he hated it. Like you were already expecting the worst. "I'm sorry again, Jungkook. For causing the accident...", you avoided his gaze, looking to the floor. "I am really, really sorry. I hope you can forgive me one day." Jungkook felt a pang in his chest. The same pang he's been feeling ever since the day you left the hospital. "You don't have anything to be sorry for, YN. It wasn't your fault." "Yes, it was. It was never my intention to get you hurt, Jungkook ", you look into his eyes. "I wanted to die when I heard you get hurt because of me... This was exactly what I was trying to avoid." "My accident was not your fau-", Jungkook stopped in the middle of his sentence, odding your last phrase. "wait... what do you mean this was what you were trying to avoid? What are you talking about?", he furrowed his brows, confused. Where should you start? How are you supposed to explain that from the first day you realized you loved Jungkook, all you wanted to do was prevent you from hurting his feelings? To prevent you from acting like your parents, becoming bitter and mean towards him. Bringing him down with you. And even with your efforts, even when you decided to break up, you kept hurting him. In the end, the fruit was still falling near the tree. "When we were dating... I lived under the constant fear that you were gonna wake up and leave me, Kook. Every day... every day, I asked myself why someone like you would choose to stay with someone like me. And every day, I came up empty. I got ready to deal with the fact that you were going to leave sooner or later, once you realized who I really was, and I had to be prepared…" Jungkook shook his head, clearly confused. "Who you really were? What do you mean?" you gave a bitter laugh. He really couldn't see? "Take a good look at me, Jungkook.", you asked. "You really can't see the type of person I am?" "You're not making any sense, YN..." "I'm the type of person who will always screw things up in the end, Jungkook. The kind of person who is always suspicious when things are going too well. I sabotage myself. And I end up sabotaging the people around me. People who care about me. I'm selfish and only care about myself because I can only rely on myself at the end of the day, Jungkook. I only have myself. That's how I am." Jungkook was shocked to hear you say that. Was that how you saw yourself? "That is not how you are, YN. It's not." "Yeah, it is. You just didn't notice, Jungkook. I'm selfish and will always choose myself at the end of the day, and I don't care about the consequences of that. I'm sorry it took me this long to realize. I'm sorry I made you waste your time with me." "Stop saying that, YN. You're not like that? Where did that come from? None of that is true, and I don't know why you're saying that, but you're not like that! You're not!" you took a deep breath. It was better that Jungkook thinks you didn't care. It would be easier for him. But Jungkook didn't believe what you were saying, not for a moment. And he knew that deep down you didn't believe it either. You weren't this horrible caricature you were painting. "Why didn't you tell me you were dealing with so much? You didn’t have to keep this to yourself." "Because it's not your fault, Kook… it's all on me. I couldn't trust too much, so I wasn't willing to take the risk." He shook his head again, in denial. "And that's the reason why you broke up with me?!" You didn't respond,  feeling ashamed and guilty. His eyes were confused, trying to make sense, but not quite succeeding.  "Let me make something very clear here, YN. You don’t ever had to worry about that with me, YN. I’m here for good.  Whether I'm a boyfriend or a best friend, or just a guy you used to date or used to know. I'll be here for you always, because I fucking love you, and it's fucking stupid you still don't see that." You could see in Jungkook's eyes how angry he was. His face was red, and he started nibbling on his lip piercing, like he always did when he was really pissed off. "Kook, I kn-" "No. Let me finish.", he interrupts you. "When we were dating, you didn't give me much chance to say these things and I thought you already knew them, but maybe we were both wrong. You couldn't read my mind and I couldn't read yours, but we acted like we could. I thought you knew how much you mattered to me and how much I love you, and that I wouldn't leave you for nothing, ever. And you thought that I was a flight risk. An inconstant guy who  didn't know what he wanted for his life." You tried to deny, 'cause that wasn't what you thought about him at all, but he kept talking, the hurt showing up in his tone. "But I wasn't. I'm not. You came first to me, YN. You were always my first choice. I've been pretending I'm good and all, but I'm not. You really hurt my feelings. You had an image of me that I'd never thought you did. I don't doubt you love me, but it kills me that you don't trust me and I wanted to beg you, so we could be together again, but I can't handle that. I know you have some difficulties trusting people and letting them in, but I never did anything to break the trust you had in me, did I? You just woke up one day and decided you didn't want me anymore. I'm fucking mad and hurt, and I’m not gonna pretend anymore. I'm still fucked up. I think I became like you… Now I'm the one who can't trust anymore." "I- I 'm sorry...", you dry the tear that fall from your eye. It's too late. “No. Stop saying that. You could've talked to me, you could've sat down, stayed longer... held my hand instead of running away again and again and again. I was ready. I was there, but you were too scared of something real.” "You don't know what real-" "You're gonna say I don't know you well?!", he cut you off. "And whose fault is that? A person can only be known if she wants to be. We dated for two years, and I still feel like I didn't know you well, YN. I loved every part of you, the good and the bad. All the parts you were willing to share with me, but you were always leaving me behind!" "Kook, that's no-", you try to reason with him, but he didn't let you. "And you think I didn't notice the way you treated me when we were dating?! The way you always had second thoughts? The way you always questioned literally EVERYTHING I did for you? I'm not blind, YN. You always assumed the worst with me." "You're wrong,  Kook. ", you defend yourself, but the bitterness in his face showed clearly how much he didn't believe you. "No, I'm not wrong. I will repeat it every day until you believe that you are not to blame for my accident, and how much I regret having said that. You don't drag me down and I didn't use you because I was in an accident. But it is true that you never fully trusted me. Trusted us. And that fucking sucks, 'cause I never gave you any reason to do that." You nod, agreeing with him. There was no point in arguing anymore. He was right. Jungkook was what you needed, but you didn't deserve him. "You're right. ", you nod. " We're only hurting each other more doing all this back and forth. Maybe it's best if we stay away from each other" Even tough he wanted to yell at you for being so stubborn and so difficult, Jungkook didn't find the strength in him to disagree with you. You both weren't going anywhere acting like that. So he just nodded, finally agreeing with you. “It’s the end for us, isn’t it?”, he asked, looking you in the eye, trying  hard not to cry. He clenched his jaw tightly, ready for whatever answer you were going to give. A moment passed. Then another. Just as the silence became too unbearable, you answered him with an expression hollowed and gray. “Yeah, it is.”

You left Jungkook at the park and went straight to tea with Ms. Sunny. You didn't look back as you left. Jungkook told you that he would stay at the park a little longer before leaving and that he would not disturb your next appointment. You saw the tears falling from his eyes as he told you to leave before you were late, but you didn't say anything. And Jungkook saw you wiping away the tears as he walked away, but even though every fiber in his body said otherwise, he didn't say anything either. You arrived at the tea shop late and greeted Mrs Sunny, avoiding looking her in the eye and risk breaking down in front of her in tears. "Yn, you seem... troubled. Is everything okay? What happened?" You sat down, taking a time to breathe after almost running the whole way there. "I was with Jungkook.", you look at her and by the look in your eyes, she already knows something was wrong. "Did you guys argue?", she, sat right in front of you. You nodded. "We... he... us...", you started to shake as the tears fell from your eyes. "...is over." Mrs Sunny sighed in surprise. She didn't know your  whole breakup, so hearing that her relationship with Jungkook was over was a big surprise to her. "But I know it's for the best," you tried to convince yourself. "He deserves someone better. I only regret wasting him so much time until I had the courage to do what was right. I deserve feeling like this. It's my punishment." Mrs. Sunny shook her head, disagreeing with you immediately. "You think you deserve this.", her words made you look at her again. " You think you deserve to be alone and suffer. You’ve convinced yourself you’re so worthless that you’ve gone to the extreme to punish yourself, YN. You think you deserve a life of misery...", she reached for your hand and held it softly as you kept crying. "... but you don't. No matter how many horrible things your parents told or did to you. You DO NOT deserve a life of misery, YN." You started to sob, and she pulls you to a hug. "You deserve to be happy, do you hear me? No matter what they told you... you're not a waste of space... You are very loved. You deserve to be listened to and respected. No matter what they taught you, you deserve to be safe and healthy. You deserve a healthy and long life full of happiness and love."

art couple by gyung studio - not mine

#bts fake texts #bts fic #bts fake chat #bts fake chats #bts scenarios #bts #2:30 #jungkook x yn #jk x you #jk x reader #jungkook x you #jungkook x y/n #jungkook x reader #jk x y/n #jk x oc #jungkook x oc

[sttoru]

hi anya.. i saw you talking abt being good at giving advice to ppl, so,, wld you mind giving me some advice..?

rant: i've been an anon for this person for a while and, not so long ago, i came out of anon to talk to them on priv, bcs they said they wouldn't be active anymore, and they told me i could talk to them on priv, if i wasn't uncomfy.

i did take up that offer, bcs i rlly wanted to keep in touch. but, they make 0 effort to talk to me. i'm always the one sending the first message. they never reach out first. and every conversation consists of like, 3 messages from each of us, talking about our lives, then we don't talk for months until i reach out again.

now, they announced they would be active again, and they're back to posting, but they just won't send me a message. i don't know if i'm being pushy and annoying by wishing they would talk to me. idk if i'm uninteresting, or if they're anxious or forgetful, or what.

it's just been very one-sided and instead of making us closer (like i thought it would) it feels like it's driving us apart. the last time we talked was in march. when i sent them a happy birthday message. i haven't send anything ever since. and neither did them (as always). i saw them as a friend, but i don't think they care about me at all.

anyway: what do i do?? do i try and talk to them about it? (what if they're just busy and i'm overthinking??) do i ignore them forever, just as they have been ignoring me? do i send them an ask instead and act like i've never been out of anon? help.

haiii anon! im glad you decided to reach out to me w this ^_^ thank u & i hope i can be of help with the following advice below ! (i actually typed more than i intended bcs it hit home hehdnsnsnd)

first of all; i applaud u for being brave & coming off anon to keep in touch with that person! a lot feel too uncomfy to do so even if they desperately want to keep in contact with someone, so i feel proud, if i can word it in that way ahsha

soooo let’s start;

if i read this correctly: when you actually begun to reach out privately to that person, you are always the first one that tries to strike up a conversation. you feel like they could be uninterested in you & don’t consider you a friend like you do.

i’m sorry to hear that— especially the ‘reaching out first part’, because it can be super uncomfortable and could understandably make you overly anxious (like thinking they aren’t interested, are ignoring you on purpose, don’t want you talking to them or they’re uncomfy talking to u etc etc. it can cause a lot of anxious thoughts. that i get & it can be extremely upsetting).

this is also a huuuge problem i’m struggling with. you are NOT pushy or annoying for wanting them to reach out to you out of their own initiative. i think every one who struggles with this can agree with me and guarantee you that.

why? because feeling like your friendship is one-sided is not how most work out. that’s how most friendships FALL out instead, like you had stated yours was at the end.

march is a long time ago. the fact that they are active & posting means they are on their socials & are checking their dms etc etc. to say that they’re forgetful is really doubtful, because march is MONTHS ago & i’m sure that if they cared about your friendship — they for sure would’ve thought of at least reaching out to you once in all those months (as harsh as that might sound).

but, they didn’t — it shows that this is indeed very one sided. of course, as a busy person myself i could look at the other side of the story as well: maybe they could be busy or they could be anxious about reaching out first too!

i know people who do, at least. but the difference is that those people i know (who are anxious of reachig out first) always make an effort to keep the conversation going once i msg them. they are interested, send me random stuff & the convos can go on and on without stopping for hours because they put effort into continuing the convo i started.

now that is considered two-sided to an extent as well. but reading that your convo’s are short & usually only 3 messages back and forth — i’m… feeling a bit iffy. if they were anxious about reaching out first, but were still interested in talking with you, they would at least make the effort to appreciate you starting the convo & continue it. so, i personally don’t think they’re forgetful or anxious.

that rules out any more possibilities to be honest. the moment you said that they havent ever reached out first made me already go ‘well…’ in my head. and its been months since you last talked. if they wanted to continue your friendship like you want, they would’ve put in the same effort as you (or at least tried once or twice to show their interest). judging by your explanation of the story, i don’t think they want to put effort in talking further with you.

which—is not your fault, maybe not even theirs. some friendships aren’t meant to work out. maybe they aren’t feeling it? maybe they don’t feel the ‘click’, you know? once again, not your fault at all! it happens to me every time — and it even happens to the best of us.

as someone who’s been in this situation for over ten times in different ‘failed’ friendships, i say let them go. maybe see where it leads you. i don’t think they will reach out to you first since march was the last time you talked without you taking the initiative, but just let it go. if they at least want to keep the convo or spark between you alive, they’d reach out themselves.

as anxious as one can be about reaching out first, if they desperately want to feel a connection between the other person, they would find a way to do it. like maybe a simple ‘hi’ in dms or indirect post on dash.

but it’s also valid that you want to continue what yall had. if you choose to want to reach out again; here’s a different & more positive solution / piece of advice:

send them one message filled with your worries and feelings about your situation. don’t make it too long (could be a bother to read, might make you seem a bit too desperate to them?) — but also maybe not too short.

this could be included;

• ask them how they’ve been lately.

• out your feelings about the situation briefly (abt reaching out first).

• simply ask for a clarification. don’t demand it! ask if they maybe would like to continue talking.

wait & check their response to that message and be critical! if they ignore completely, red flag. if they’re dismissing your feelings, red flag. if they say ‘i forgot’ or ‘i was busy’, understandable, but see if they actually make an effort to reach out to you afterwards. if not—stop putting in the effort and let go (saying this in the nicest way possible. it avoids any more heart break / anxiousness, i promise)

though, it may also be your last message to them if they say that they don’t feel the same (aka dont wanna continue talking), so maybe prepare yourself for that too.

anyhow! it’s ok if friendships don’t work out, once again, don’t blame yourself! it hurts, of course, but once you get through the heart break — there are many more possibilities for you to make friends out here.

remember, relationships are the most healthiest when there’s good communication between both parties.

xoxo

#sttoru responds. #keep me updated!! (if u wanna) :) #am always here for u anonnnn i feel like u r me and i am u

[femcel-interruped]

A Change

5/26/24 9:03PM

I created this blog dedicated to the ideal "boysober era" as they call it on TikTok. I found that during this time of daily blogging about being a lonely 21 year old girl made me feel worse in a way. I was dwelling. Meanwhile, I was being dismissive to men that seemed nice and wanted to get to know me. So I dropped this whole boysober blog thing for about a month and decided to let whatever happen, happen. I met someone, hung out a few times, then got friend-zoned. My ex who I lived with and I decided to cease communication indefinitely. Nothing bad happened, it was just time to let go. I went to California and hung out with a friend from home who now lives there and I developed a huge crush (that seemed reciprocated) on his roommate. The roommate ended up having a girlfriend who he did not mention once. I've been grieving that small instance as that same situation has happened before and it was extremely painful. But through this pain I have been actively rejecting my own common toxic coping habits that 100% of the time prolong my suffering. It is like ripping out teeth, especially for an anxiously attached hopeless romantic who overthinks everything. It has gotten to the point where I have thought more about this person than I've actually have had interactions with, and that's where I found a wound to patch up. This is just an example, but what I'm trying to say is-

If you are suffering emotionally from something you have conjured, find the parts that hurt and pay mind to it. Ask it why it's hurting, and no matter the answer, patch it up. In other words, replace the needle in the haystack that causes the huge ripple effect. Replace the coping mechanism that makes it worse for you with something more logical. The more honest you are with yourself, the clearer life and situations get. This is where I want to take this blog. I want to discuss more daily life emotional turmoil and how to better cope as I am also learning as a young adult woman living at home while taking years to get through college.

I think the most frustrating part of this time in your life (assuming you are also a lost young woman) is knowing that you have had it better before, and it feels like you are in a constant decline. I watch past memories of myself and I feel jealousy towards her because she has no idea how good she has it. She had bigger artistic aspirations, she had great romantic partners who were devoted to her, she was not worried about what she was going to do to fill in the day tomorrow to make it bearable, like she's working towards something at all. I have been feeling really aimless for awhile since I got home in December. My life was flipped upside down and I feel like I never fully got back on my feet in terms of direction in life. It's been six months and I am tired. I took a break from school which helped me learn a ton about myself as a human and how to take care of my brain better, but it also made things worse because I have had no structure, no purpose to my days. It looks really easy. No school, just work at the movie theater sometimes, live at home for free with home cooked meals, etc. I am a very lucky and privileged person to have all these things, but it does not create a fulfilled life. I am empty. I feel meaningless. I always felt I had a place in the world, a big one. I always took up so much space and was so loud with my existence because I believed in myself. I don't have that anymore. I spend my days posting random things on instagram and checking to see if one person saw it. I sit in this bed, maybe I'll spend too much money on a coffee I won't finish, and I overthink the entire day because I have way too much time on my hands.

I desperately need to sort out my life. I have discovered that we never stop thinking "I need to get my shit together." That can feel daunting or comforting depending on where you're at mentally. I find aging to be both of those things. I am so very young, but I've been listening heavily to the older women giving advice to younger generations. I think we shut them out too much. Older women who have welcomed aging mentally and physically are so valuable, yet we think that they are useless to us. We think they don't understand us, but you have to put that generational gap aside. One thing I have learned from studying philosophy is that a majority of the human experience is shared throughout centuries. Past generations understand the same circumstances that we all face in their own ways. It's important to listen to all of their stories with an open mind. Like they say in tarot card readings, "take what resonates, leave what doesn't." They have had their own unique experiences just like you, but it's all related. Have a conversation about your troubles with someone older, it will give you clarity and comfort that none of this is new.

Absolutely nothing about what you are going through is new in this universe. Take solace in that.

[talesofateenagedramaqueen]

dearest diary,

today is starting off strong- lingering dreams and matching horoscopes and tarot readings, plans with friends and full body anxiety.

letting your mother talk to lawyers for you is definitely a cowards way out, the action of a youngest child who needs to grow tf up, but its easy to do bad things when you hate yourself alr-

OH. THATS THE POINT OF BOJACK HORSEMAN.

great show but its a horrible sign that I relate most to the fucking horse. if I were a man...well, thank the universe for that one small concession. im annoying enough as a woman, id be utterly insufferable (and even more off putting) as a man living rent free in- okay okay. im a mess. this is well established. there is no magic cure that's going to fix my shit by tomorrow. there's nothing I can do to erase the past few years of drowning in my own depression. the past few critical years where I was unable to hold it together or to even move forward. dammit, the teachers were right. though, given my...everything. personality, upbringing, mental illnesses plural, I think it might have always ended up this way. and there's no point on lingering on everything I have down wrong ever because there's so much of it jfc please don't cue the war flashbacks now. at 25 years old I must start from scratch except I was handed one of those shitty whiteboards that are never 100% clean. or, I guess this metaphor works better if im the one who waited too long and all the good white boards were taken first.

well, I overthink things and never take action (classic infp amiright?) but I also have adhd so sometimes im also impulsive. and im not patholgizing myself, truly im not, its just that I do weird things and its comforting to know that there's a reason why I am the way that I am. everyone else gets to go along life knowing why they do things that they do because their minds are so straightforward, even when they're overwhelmed by emotion they know which emotion it is that they're feeling. and we're all humans who act irrationally at times and have moments of "why did I do that" but not everyone is like " I don't understand why I can't just be normal."

anyways I think if I just stopped overthinking things but also spent more time in my own body it would, and I quote, "fix all my shit okay, maybe not all my shit, but definitely more." slow down, think, act.

right now I am forced to lean on my parents. I feel guilty that they're doing me a huge favor, but a more productive use of that emotion is showing my gratefulness. getting a job and helping them around the house, having a more normal sleep schedule, and taking a more active role with the gremlins will show how thankful I am. I need to prioritize getting a job and getting into a groove with cleaning. hoarder mess is theirs to deal with, everyday cleaning tasks I can help with. to work off my frustration, im going to start taking walks on the trail.

eat healthier. no diets cause they drive me insane.

look into hormone supplements specifically for PCOS, and make sure to actually take my thyroid meds.

its not all or nothing. no more procrastinating. a little bit each day.

I gotta like, romanticize my life though, or else its just not as fun. or worth it? I don't want to just go through the motions and I need to find motivation from something, somewhere.

"all that is done in love is done well" okay Vincent go off. when you're a mentally ill piece of shit I think doing things with love is the only thing you can do right. no, thats not it. sometimes all you can do is sit back and realize, there's no point in doing things out of hatred- no, thats not the point either. ah, well. its still a good motto to have.

I lost large chunks of myself haven't I? the passion, the interests, trying to cater towards everyone else but then being led by my own anger and darkness. but I've always admired the weirdos and the eccentrics, and especially the free spirits. I've seen the dark sides of everything I have loved, but its like yin and yang yeah? just because there's some darkness doesn't mean the whole thing is horrible now. there's still things left to love about it. im not going to find the perfect solution, god knows im going to make a million more mistakes, but=im gonna try harder. im going to do things out of love again. fuck toxic positivity though. lets bring emotions back! stop rationalizing everything! feel what you feel THEN make decisions about it. I need a little more optimism in my life, but I don't wanna fake it either. not everything has to be a big deal;!

todays goals are to get my clearances set up (for the most part). the room to clean of the day is the bathroom. the fun bits are going to be...creating a capsule wardrobe for work. I need ballet flats-wide-for interviews. but first, food for fuel.

this journey is going to kick me in my ass, but its been kicking me in the face the whole time so if you think about it, this is a vast improvement. and fuck! I really don't wanna fucking do this! I wish I didn't have to!! but it's all going to work out all right in the end so help me god-or-whoerver-pr-whatever-is-in-charge-if- anything-at-all.

*cue better son/daughter playing in the background*

[delicrieux]

☆ﾐ 𝚖𝚊𝚔𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚜𝚊𝚢 “𝚘𝚑”

PART 24: OH...HI

after months and too much longing, you finally meet corpse in person.

─── corpse husband x reader ─── soc. media + written fiction! ─── word count: 3.8k

author’s note: we did it joe.

ultimate masterlist.  ҉  myso masterlist   ҉   previous. ҉   next.

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You woke up. That’s a lie, you didn’t sleep. Too much to plan, too much can go wrong and you’re...Not nervous, no, that’s not quite accurate. Excited. Yes, excited, so excited that two Redbulls and three coffees (so far!) make you jitter around the apartment like a butterfly that can’t find a flower bed to rest on. 

Rae has almost had enough of your...random spurts of energy. So what if you ran a few laps, climbed a few tables, sang karaoke a bit too loud and yet another noise complaint had been issued? It arrived exactly an hour after your concert via your displeased landlord. Rae was, of course, the one to apologize because you were too busy trying on miniskirts. After that ordeal was taken care of, no sooner than Rae shut the front door with an exhausted sigh, you emerged from your room clad in your prettiest outfit. You present it to her with a bright smile and flourish. 

She is not impressed.

“Will you quit it?” She questions, arms crossed over her chest. Your grin does not damper -- you’re used to such harsh treatment, having accepted her backhanded way of showing love long ago. Instead, you flick your wrists, showing off an ungodly amount of rings. You’re not certain of the exact number because you can’t count, “Y/n.” Her voice gains an edge, but you persist. Show off your shoes that have cute lil’ charms that jingle jangle not unlike the spurs on a hot cowgirl’s boots, “Y/n.” Her eyes narrow in displeasure, her stern tone making you falter in your dramatic stride down the imaginary catwalk, “Just stop.”

Okay! So maybe you’re not as used to her coldness as you thought you were. Your expression sours, and you quit the act, even if a part of you - one you barely fight off, goodness, you almost perish in that battle - wants to continue but even more annoying. As if you could somehow block her rationality with manic energy. 

“What?” You ask, trying to keep the mood lighthearted despite her squared shoulders and tight frown, “I’m just having a bit of fun!” You say with a joyous little laugh, reaching for a glass of much needed water.

“No, you’re panicking.” Her words make the glass still, hoovering by your painted lips, but it’s short lived. You take a greedy gulp and it tastes fresh with a pinch of lipstick, “Look, I get it...” She shakes her head softly, “You’re meeting the guy you like for the first time, you jumped the gun straight to dating and now you’re...Anxious. It’s normal, you know.”

“But I’m not anxious.” You persist, and you really do mean it. You don’t like how she looks at you as if you’re the one that’s misunderstanding your own feelings. You set the glass down with a soft clink, heaving your own sigh, “I’m not, I’m really happy actually.” You explain softly, “It’s just...my way of dealing with it. I’m more... Worried about Corpse, to be honest.” You add, a tad quieter, “But, like, it’s all good!” You exclaim, strolling up to her and landing your hands on her shoulders, “I prepared.”

And it’s true! You had spent the night scouring the depths of the internet. Read every WikiHow article on how to deal with someone with extreme anxiety, how to not make things painfully awkward, and how to talk to boys (just in case. The last time you stumbled upon that particular article was way back in middle school when you had a crush on that one guy you saw in your school’s cafeteria every now and then. Naturally, that led you down the rabbit hole, and according to WikiHow’s How To Tell If A Boy Likes You guidebook, you found out that he was absolutely enamored with you because he glanced in your direction, like, two times. Safe to say that love story went nowhere. The point still stands). 

So you forward all of this information to Rae, nestled in her bed whilst she lazily folds her clothes; clarify that you know that nothing much can happen, and that this whole situation is delicate, and that you must tread carefully because you don’t want to overwhelm him. She pauses her actions, glancing behind her to watch you staring idly at the ceiling, so peaceful, so thoughtful. And it’s not the eerie calmness you had displayed during your murderous spree in the last Among Us game, no, it’s just...quiet understanding. 

“I’m actually impressed.” She says. You merely hum, counting the dust slowly descending in the cascading light, “You’re not as clueless as I thought.” Your lips quirk into a shy smile at the compliment- “Or as tactless.” - and turn downward just as quick.

“That implies that I’m always tactless.”

“You are.” She states and you sit up, a soft frown pinching your brows, “Not like, in a terrible way. You just...don’t think about your actions. Or the repercussions. You just know that you can get away with everything.”

“And I can!”

“That doesn’t actually mean you should do something just because you can. You know I’ll always support you. Literally everyone will always support you. But I’m not gonna coddle you. You’re just...a lot. Online and especially in person. But the fact that you’re actually taking this seriously and taking his feelings into consideration is...well, the bare minimum, but still, good job.”

...Much to think about. You don’t like thinking, it makes your head hurt. Though, that could just be the lack of sleep. You cross your legs and plop your head in your hand, tired eyes blinking owlishly, “Do you...think I should change what I’m wearing?”

Prompted by your question, she gives you a careful once over, “I mean, it’s signature you.”

“Signature me is a hoodie and some sweatpants.”

She smiles, “Then go change. Your outfit is a bit distracting for just...Hanging out indoors, no? I’m sure he wouldn’t mind either way, though.”

“I just...” You bite the inside of your cheek, mulling your words over. Truly, the last time you were so attentive was when you went Psycho Mode in Among Us, which, to be fair, wasn’t that long ago. Perhaps there wasn’t a chance to let your mind dull - it’s almost as sharp as your butterfly knife, “I figured that if, like,” You vaguely motion with your hands, “if I be, like, all over the place, and wearing something cute, he’d be, like, distracted? And less anxious? No...awkward silence?”

“First meetings are always awkward, it’s natural.” She chimes, “I mean, if you’re so nervous-”

“I’m not nervous!”

“-then just don’t overthink it. I know it’s easier said than done, but you’re you, and Corpse is Corpse, and he likes you for who you are, and even if it is a bit awkward, I’m sure it’ll, like, blow over in a second. It really doesn’t matter how you look, Y/n.” She grins, “Plus, it’s not like you’re greeting him in your underwear or something.”

You will not admit that that was your plan B, not when you just landed in her good graces. You nod, “...I’ll go change.” 

And so you do. Pick out your cutest hoodie and some sweatpants. Put away your jingle jangle shoes with a broken heart, instead of them donning your fluffiest socks; slip off some rings because they keep falling off of your fingers. It’s almost like all of those transformation scenes in rom-coms that are still popular for some reason, except you’re hot before and after, so there’s really no transformation at all. 

Now you wait. Just wait, all other activities are excluded from this. Rae comes back to find you sitting on the edge of your bed, back straight, hands neatly folded on your lap. She compares you to a Sim’s character and you allow her. After mercilessly mocking you and snapping a few pictures - for blackmail, you assume - she helpfully informs that she is leaving because she doesn’t want to get in the way, but your psychic abilities which you acquired just now tell you that she simply doesn’t want to witness this train wreck. Not that it’ll be a train wreck, it would be if you were nervous, but you aren’t. 

You just aren’t. You fidget with the rings adoring your hand; toy with the hem of your hoodie; bounce your leg up and down. It’s just caffeine, okay?! Fuck this, Twitter time.

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[ADDING A MUSICAL INTERMISSION, LISTEN TO THIS IF YOU WANT (I WROTE THIS CHAPTER WITH IT IN MIND)]

The waiting commences, only now it somehow feels more intense. The sun is setting, and you really want to be one of those cute girls that fill their camera roll with pictures of the sunset and the roseate sky, but your hands are trembling and holding up your phone feels like too much of a hassle. You’d rather just sit there, alone in the apartment, in the pin-drop silence, extremely uncomfy and tense, as if waiting for the end of the world. 

A notification sounds off and your life flashes before your eyes. Hastily, you check it, a sticky mixture of delight and something else, something unpleasant constricting, making your stomach churn. He’s here. Holy shit, it’s happening. You order your anime plushies to stop fucking panicking, they’re like, totally embarrassing you at the moment! You wonder if they have their own little group chat, but instead of Totally Spies it’s called Total Embarrassment. Yikes, okay, that was harsh. After a good scolding, and a heartfelt apology for getting so heated, you smooth down the non-existent wrinkles on your modest outfit, and quickly waddle over to the electronic apartment thingie something something... you unlock the main door, okay!? This is for some reason feeling very not cash money, so you break out in a little dance number.

The doorbell does not sing that shrill, unpleasant tune; rather, there’s a soft knock on the apartment’s door, and you pause your shuffling, your renegade, and perk up at the imposing future hidden behind a slab of wood. Your heart beats a melody all on it’s own, and it’s loud, uncoordinated, like a musician that’s still familiarizing themselves with their instrument. And there’s that knock again, as uncertain as you’re feeling, and your clammy fingers latch onto the lock and turn it and now there is no more hiding - such a possibility is no longer an option; no more sporadic dances or sitting in disheartening silence and letting your thoughts weight you down.

You’re not quite sure what you were thinking about before you saw him in the threshold, head tilted slightly, fluffy dark hair obscuring the bags under his eyes, hunched, one ringed hand clutching onto the strap of his duffel bag, the other frozen mid-air, ready to knock one more time lest you didn’t hear him the first two. No, truly, you can’t, for the life of you, remember what all the fuss was about. 

“...Oh.” It’s a soft sound, so quiet, but not surprised, rather...relieved. Faint shimmers of a smile reach you, hidden behind a black face mask - the panini chic! You must stan a respectful king - but there’s something about the way he looks at you that makes you question it’s sincerity. He fails to return your gaze, rather choosing to stare somewhere over your shoulder. His eyes seem unfocused. Apprehensive. A wild thought occurs to you that he expected you to trick him somehow, and wild thoughts invade the land of your mind often, but never in such a way. You clutch the handle just a bit tighter.

His hand retreats to his side, up to his mask and you think he’s about to unhook it but he stills, and there’s panic there, as if he had been moving unconsciously, as if he hadn’t realized what he’s doing. He plays it off by idly scratching his cheek, muttering an equally quiet, “Hi.” to fill the silence.

Finally, your WikiHow knowledge can come in handy, along with your common sense, “Hey, pretty boy.” You mutter, pulling away from the door, “Make yourself at home!” You slide to the kitchen, your socks acting not unlike ice-skates cutting through the Arctic frost covered ground. You hope that with you occupied and not watching him as closely he’ll feel slightly more at ease. 

You’d like to hug him. Kiss him, definitely. But if he’s so uncomfortable that he can’t bring himself to shed his mask in your presence, then there’s really nothing you can do. 

You hear the door shut and lock behind you as you pull out two glasses from the cupboard, humming a song you can’t quite recall the name of. You ask him if he’d like something to drink - it was a short flight, yet a flight still, and planes always make you thirsty, and there you go talking his ear off. You end abruptly, but smoothly, like a true diplomat; if he notices, you have no way of knowing - he doesn’t provide even a hint. He’s hard to read, and literature was never your best subject. But you’re trying.

He sets his duffel bag down on a nearby chair, “I, uhhh,” His voice is raspy and low, another indication of a pathetic lack of sleep, “I...got you something, uhh, I dunno-dunno if I should...give it now, or?” He sends you a questioning glance, but it doesn’t linger. Your offer of drinks is momentarily forgotten, though you hardly mind. 

You grin, “Sure! I love gifts, gimmie gimmie.” You make grabby hands, and he snorts, and it would’ve sounded endearing if he didn’t sound so fucking tired. He unzips the bag, and you pad your way to him, mindful of personal space (something you, in most social situations, chose to pretend does not exist). You note his hands quivering lightly, just like yours had in the agonizing wait, but he hides it well. You wish you could hold them. You’re afraid to try.

He pulls out a black hoodie and you recognize the custom art on it instantly - it’s his merch. He presents it in awkward flourish, murmuring a “Tadaaaa” under his breath; your heart skips a pleasant beat, and you have to bite down on your lower lip lest you smile appears too big. The fabric is soft under your fingers, and you accept his gift with a dramatic bow, and he turns his head away with another little laugh. You’re chipping away at the ice around him; it’s a slow process, but it’s worth the effort.

Truly, your own hoodie is shabby in comparison - icky, how could you have ever worn such a thing in the first place?! You’ll have to do extensive research in fashion magazines and Printerest so such a slip-up may never happen again. You discard it hastily and put his on instead; it smells like washing detergent with hints of cologne, one you instantly pin point belonging to him, “It’s, uhhh, it’s mine? I hope you, uhh, I didn’t have any spare ones, so-I hope you don’t...mind.”

He’s finally looking at you, but he’s still tense, still hesitant, and you shake your head softly, “No,” You admit, “I like it even more now.” You pull on the hood, toy with the strings and yank them quickly; your face is concealed, save for your nose, “Comfy.” Your commentary is unmatched, best of it’s kind - eloquent and effortless, much like yourself.

Another small laugh reaches your ears, and it sounds a bit livelier than the others had been. Success!

“Stop that.” He says gently, and you see moving shadows; his hands loosen the strings and your face is revealed to him once again. He’s close now, and he doesn’t move away; his hands come to rest on your shoulders, warm even through layers of fabric, “I came all this way to see you, don’t hide your face from me.” 

Your eyes narrow playfully, your finger rapidly tapping away on his clothed cheek, “What’s all this then? Hm? Hm?” Instead of swatting your hand away, which you figured he’d do, he complies and finally tugs that fucking mask off. Your breath catches in the back of your throat and you halt your ministrations - truly, seeing him smiling on screen is nothing compared to him smiling in person. You can’t quite contain yourself any longer - your excitement might burst out in another dance number otherwise - as you throw your arms over his shoulders and pull him flush against you. He’s quick to return the embrace. Maybe it was all the encouragement he needed.

“Wow,” He mumbles, only slightly offended, “so I finally show my face to you, in person, and you just-...you just look away?”

“I’m hugging you, dumbass.”

“...Touche.”

Things fall into place after that, like a dozen puzzle pieces fitting together. He won’t let you go - he doesn’t want to. You put on some music, something easy and indie and that doesn’t require too much effort to listen to, as the two of you contemplate what to eat. Cooking by yourselves was dismissed due to the unstable relationship between yourself and cooking utensils. The stove and you had had a falling out recently, but this feud had started long ago, back in pre-school, with only short intervals of friendship. He listened to your extensive explanation absolutely enraptured and only moderately confused. 

So you settled on ordering pizza from Domino’s. You have no trouble calling or receiving phone calls, because you have no trouble doing anything, and he admitted that he only really calls you because he gets too anxious to do more, so you’re tasked with ordering the food. You accept this mission with pride.

You stand tall, gazing out the window into the wild California domain: massive buildings and towering eucalyptus trees, bleeding skyline and the sun slowly getting swallowed up by the ocean. Corpse looms behind you, with his arms snaked around your waist and his chin resting on your shoulder, looking at you through the corner of his eye. You wait patiently for the underpaid, overworked staff member to pick up, and once they do, you have the audacity to grin brightly and chirp, “Hi! I want pizza.”

Conversations flow smoothly, and you make hot chocolate - because you are hot and you crave chocolate - and he insists he wants one too, because you want one, and you don’t hesitate to overflow his cup with whipped cream and an ungodly amount of miniature marshmallows. A premature heart attack, just for him. Whoever said romance is dead has clearly never met you. When the doorbell chimes, you’re astounded that an hour flew by so quickly.

After the delicious meal, the movie night must commence. So what if you watched 10 Things I hate About You yesterday, you insist that you have already forgotten the plot. You lead him to your room and he tries not to stare, but can’t help himself. Pretty boy in a pretty girl’s room. His eyes linger on the massive posters of Chrollo on your walls, and you sense his displeasure rolling off of him in waves. 

“What?” You huff, fluffing the pillows, “You don’t like my husband?”

He jabs his finger into his chest, into the spot of his heart, “I’m your husband.”

“Side hoe, then-”

“-No.”

You didn’t lie when you said you love to cuddle, or that you’re clingy. It’s a good thing he’s just as clingy as you are, because when he lays down and you latch onto his side. He doesn’t complain, rather wraps his arm around pulls you close. His thumb draws lazy circles on your side; with your head resting on his chest, you feel each rhythmical rise and drop. 

The opening credits play on the projector, the room dark enough for your pile of plushies to look like a whole fucking human just standing in the corner. A ghost! Sucks for it, you’re not scared. You feel safe. Protected. So comfortable in Corpse’s hold that you’re honestly wondering how did you manage to be so long without him. To think all of this started when Sykkuno followed you on Twitter. What a lucky accident.

“Can I ask you something?” Your voice cuts through the bopping 90s soundtrack and Julia Stiles’ voice. He hums. You take it as a yes. Tilting your head upwards, you find his eyes again, a thorn of displeasure picking you as you note that that apprehension you had seen previously is still very much there, “...You really wouldn’t date me if I was a worm?”

His chest rumbles with a laugh and his lips split into a grin, “I would.” He presses your side for emphasis, “I really would.” He repeats, reassuringly. You, however, are not convinced.

“But I’d be a worm.”

“I know. We’d... roll around in the dirt together, or something.”

“But you’d be human.”

He frowns softly, “Why couldn’t I be a worm, too?”

“Those are the rules.”

“What kind of shitty fucking rules are those?”

“I dunno, it’s like the Thanos snap or something. I just turn into a worm. I’m the only one.”

“That’s fine.” He smiles, “I’d take you out on a fishing date or something.”

Shocked, offended, and heartbroken, you hit his chest and pointedly turn away with a pout, which he finds very funny for some reason, but you fail to see the humor anywhere except the movie. Despite the fact that he’d sacrifice you for a fish, you smile shyly and close your eyes. He did say you would take a nap together, and if he really thought you’d stay awake for movie night, well, then he’s just an idiot. You had decided you would fall asleep as soon as he was next to you. It’s a miracle you managed to stay awake for so long.

“...Sleeping already?” You don’t appreciate his teasing tone.

“’m not sleeping...” You murmur, “’m resting my eyes.”

“Sure.”

You’re not quite certain (of anything, really) how much time drifts by, but you’re nearly lost in unconsciousness, in the warm, nice feeling that comes along with him like a cloud. Perhaps he thinks you’re asleep, he has to, else he wouldn’t say anything at all, “You’re stuck with me now, you know.” It’s such a soft admission, riddled with the same notes of anxiety that always prevail in his speech; with the same hopeful sincerity he had been gazing at you the whole evening. 

Moving your lips is such a hassle, but you manage, “’m...stuck...” You mumble, “’m...stuck...what are you doing step-”

“No!” He laughs, and your lips quirk into a lazy smile, “No, no, no. Just no. Do you talk in your sleep?” You fake snore at that, loudly, “You’re like a little dragon.”

“...Fuck you.”

“Fine, a kitten, then.” That’s better. You feel something chapped, but soft, press onto your forehead, “Goodnight, Y/n.”

God, you’re so fucking happy. Does he know how happy you are? How happy he makes you? But you’re too tired for screaming and flailing around, too tired to even crack an eye open. You want him to know all the same, “...like you.” You whisper, but you don’t know if he hears you over the movie, “...I like you.”

His reply is instant, breathless, “I like you too.”

Good, you want to say, and maybe you do - can’t tell anymore. Sleep takes you too quickly.

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tags (in italics is those i couldn’t tag! make sure all’s ok w your settings!) : @littlebabysandboxburritos - @fairywriter-oracle - @tsukishimawh0re - @ofstarsanddreams - @bbecc-a - @annshit - @leahh19 - @letsloveimagines - @bellomi-clarke - @wineandionysus - @guiltydols - @onephootinfrontoftheother - @liamakorn - @thirstyfangirl - @lilysdaydreams - @pan-ini - @mxqicshxp - @tanchosanke - @yoshinorecommends - @flightsandfantasy - @liljennyx3 - @bingusmode - @unknown-and-invisible - @sinister-sleep - @fivedicksinatrenchcoat - @mercury--moon - @peterparkerspjsuit - @unstableye - @simonsbluee - @shinyshimaagain - @ppopty - @siriuslystupid - @crapimahuman - @ofthedewthesunlight - @mythicalamphitrite - @artsyally - @corpsesimpp - @corpsewhitetee - @corpse-husbandsimp - @hyp-oh-critical - @roses-and-grasses - @rhyrhy462 - @sparklylandflaplawyer - @charbkgo - @airwaveee - @creativedogs - @kaitlyn2907 - @loxbbg - @afuckingunicornn - @fleurmoon - @yeolliedokai

more tags are in the comments bcs tumblr only allows me to tag 50 people max 💙

#corpse husband #corpse #corpse husband x reader #corpse x reader #corpse husband x y/n #corpse husband fanfic #corpse x y/n #corpse social media au #corpse husband social media au #social media au #myso #make you say oh #reader #xreader #imagine #imagines #fluff #wtf i have never been this soft no one hmu

[remuswriting]

Cut The Cameras

Part Three: Editing

TRIGGER WARNING: VAGUE TALK ABOUT AN ATTEMPTED SUICIDE

Please inform me if I need to post something that explains what happens in this part for anyone who doesn’t feel comfortable reading due to the warning.

Thursday, September 3. 12:15 A. M.

Kenma hates driving, and everyone who knows him knows that.  He actively avoids it, even though Kuroo tried teaching him when he turned 18.  He said that Kuroo teaching him is what made him hate it so much, that’s not it.  It’s his anxiety always flaring up whenever he has to drive, which results in him gripping the steering wheel way too hard, hyperventilating, and forcing himself to calm down so he doesn’t wreck and die.

The solution he came up with is to avoid driving.  He goes between using the train or riding with friends (usually riding with friends when they’re free).  It’s actually easier to avoid driving than to actually drive.  Everyone has accepted it and said it’s okay.

Y/N doesn’t know that, though.  He’s still so new in Kenma’s life, even though he knows Kenma more than Kenma likes at times.  He doesn’t know about Kenma’s barely used driver’s license and that he only got it so his mom and Kuroo would stop griping at him about it.  The anxiety is something Kenma thinks Y/N has figured out, but no one has said anything.  The deal is that Y/N doesn’t know everything, and Kenma wants to keep it that way.

Kenma sits in the front seat of the car his mom bought him nearly two years ago.  He’s not sat in this car since the huge panic attack that had Kuroo and his mother stop pushing him.  All he can do there is just sit there and take in the car.  It’s midnight, so the trains are running currently and he can’t call anyone.  Y/N wants him to come over—he doesn’t want Kenma inviting people.  Wait.  What if that is what he wants?  What if Y/N needs more than just Kenma?

Kenma presses his forehead to the steering wheel, trying to get his thoughts to slow down for just a moment.  He just needs to be able to think, but he can’t.  His heart is beating out of his chest, and he doesn’t know if it’s because of Y/N or because of his anxiety is raging currently.  Most likely a mixture of both.

He looks out the windshield, and he can see the city lights sparkling.  That’s one thing he’s always loved about where he lives—the view.  He takes a deep breath before slowly releasing it like he’s read online to do when an anxiety attack threatens to shows up.  Y/N needs him.  He needs to do this.  They’re friends, and friends always come to the rescue for each other.

The roads aren’t as busy at night as they are during the day.  It gives him the reassuring thought that he’s driven through worse and survived that.  So, he just focuses on the GPS navigating him to Y/N’s apartment instead of overthinking everything happening around him.  The trip is far faster than he thought it’d be.

His hands fall away from the steering wheel and into his lap once he’s parked.  He lets out a deep breath and realizes he may have been holding it for a while.  It may explain why he feels so lightheaded.  He doesn’t know.  Everything is a little confusing right now.  He undoes his seatbelt, grabs his phone, and gets out the car.  He’s trying to take things one step at a time, but he needs to hurry.  It’s nearly 1 A. M.

By the time he’s to Y/N’s apartment, he’s fairly collected.  No longer being behind the steering wheel or in that car helps him.  He’s able to finally breathe again, and he lets out a deep breath as he rings the doorbell.  Hopefully, no one else hears it.

The doors opens to reveal Y/N, who looks wrecked.  His cheeks are tear-stained, eyes bloodshot, and his hair is a complete mess.  Kenma wants to reach out and help him somehow, but he doesn’t.  He can wait for Y/N to tell him what to do.  He won’t make this any worse than it already is.

“Hey,” Kenma says slowly.  Y/N wipes his face with the sleeve of his Daily Tooru hoodie.  Kenma wonders if he’s wearing that hoodie in particular to find some sort of comfort. “I’m here.”

“I’m sorry,” Y/N says, and the words sound like they’re stuck in his throat. “I shouldn’t have texted you.  It wasn’t fair of me to do that.  I’m okay.”

Kenma looks him over before making eye contact. “You don’t look okay to me.”

“Well, I’m fine.” Y/N’s lips quiver before he presses them into a thin line and blinks hard.  He lets out an airy chuckle, and Kenma can hear tears in it.  His voice is weaker when he speaks again. “See, I’m fine.”

Y/N shakes his head as he leans against the doorframe and puts his face in his hands.  Kenma doesn’t know what’s going on.  He’s never been around someone having a breakdown like this.  All he can do is stand there until Y/N lets out a body wracking sob.

“Okay, let’s get you inside,” Kenma says, and he’s trying to remember everything Shoyo and Kuroo do when Kenma has anxiety attacks.  Shoyo always makes sure Kenma has something to drink and is away from prying eyes.  Kenma can get Y/N away from prying eyes.

Most of the lights are off in the apartment.  The lights in the living room are on and in one of the bedroom, but everything else is dark.  Once the door is closed, Kenma looks around.

 “Where’s your water?” he asks, and Y/N gives him a weird look.

“What?” Y/N asks, and his voice soaked with tears.  Kenma hates it.  Maybe he can limit talking as much as possible.

“You’re supposed to drink water when you cry,” Kenma says, and he’s pushing Y/N toward the living room. “To keep you hydrated.”

Y/N lets out a wet laugh. “I have a water bottle in the kitchen.”

Y/N tries to go to the kitchen, but Kenma doesn’t let him.  He keeps pushing him toward the living room. “No, I can get it.  You need to sit down and breathe.”

He quickly grabs Y/N’s water bottle from the kitchen once Y/N sits down.  Y/N has his knees pulled up to his chest when Kenma comes back to the living room.  He’s still crying, but it’s not as bad as it had been.  Kenma takes it as an accomplishment as he hands Y/N the water bottle.

Kenma sits near Y/N, unsure of what to do now.  Usually, Kuroo and Shoyo try to talk about feelings, but Kenma doesn’t know how to do that.  He doesn’t know how to ask it without sounding uncomfortable.  Sometimes he wishes he was more like Shoyo.

“I’m sorry for all of this,” Y/N says as he wipes his eyes.  Kenma shakes his head, and Y/N shakes his head squeezes his eyes shut. “No, don’t say it’s alright, because I’ll feel bad no matter what.”

Y/N lets out a wet laugh that sounds more choked off than anything.  Kenma looks away from him and at a picture of Tooru, Masaru, and Y/N on the wall.  It looks like it’s from Masaru’s high school graduation.  All of them are grinning, as if they’ve never been happier.

“Do you… do you want to talk about it?” Kenma asks softly, and Y/N shakes his head. “Do you want me to sit here with you?” Y/N nods. “Okay.”

Kenma isn’t sure whether Y/N will be upset if he plays on his phone, but he slowly takes it out when he notices the light from Y/N’s phone illuminating Y/N’s face.  He can’t see it completely, which is fine.  It’s so quiet, but it’s okay.  A little tense, but nice.  It doesn’t bother Kenma, because he’s been in worse situations.  He tries to not react when Y/N starts crying harder.

“Kenma, I fucked up,” Y/N says softly.  He doesn’t look over at Kenma, and Kenma tries not to look at Y/N. “I thought I was doing the right thing, but I pushed too much.  Now I’m stuck in this mess.”

“What happened?”

Y/N presses his face against his knees, making his voice a little muffled. “Masaru’s in the hospital.  He’s not had to be in the hospital in so long, but he’s back in there, and it’s all my fault.”

“What happened to Masaru?  Is he okay?” Kenma asks as anxiety shoots through him.  He finds that even though he’s not known Masaru for long, barely talking to him in that time, he cares for him.  They may not be close like Masaru and Akaashi, but he’s worried currently.

“He’s—” Y/N pauses, and he’s not crying as bad, but there’s a certain type of sadness n his voice that kicks Kenma in the chest. “He’s… okay.” Y/N lifts his head slightly, and Kenma sees tear slowly trail down Y/N’s face.  Y/N swallows hard. “He tried to… He tried to kill himself, and I saw the signs—fuck, I saw the signs.  And I tried to point them out to Tooru, but he told me it wasn’t as bad as I was making it out to be.” He clenches his jaw. “I didn’t listen, though.  I tried to talk to Masaru—I tried, I really tried—but he was so angry.  He was so angry, Kenma.”

Kenma wants to reach out.  He wants to hold Y/N or do something that’s not just sitting here, being quiet.  He doesn’t know what to say, though.  He’s never been in a situation like this before that he can reference.

“His anger scared me, so I was so mean back.” Y/N chokes slightly as he presses his face against his knees again. “I said things I don’t mean, and he hung up on me, and then Tooru is calling me saying that Masaru was on his way to the hospital, and everything was happening so fast.” Y/N lets out a shaky breath. “Everything happened so fast.”

“What did you say?” Kenma asks, and Y/N lifts his head enough to look at Kenma. “You know, to each other.” It’s silent for a second, and Kenma’s heart races in a dizzying way. “You don’t have to answer that—I don’t know why I asked that.”

“I told him that I was tired of taking care of him—that he’s a burden to deal with,” Y/N says, and a simmering anger laces his words. “I told him that it’s hard taking care of manic person who doesn’t care about other people, because other people don’t want to care about them.”

Is Masaru bipolar?  Is that what happened?  Kenma isn’t going to ask that.  He’s not going to push anymore than he already has.

“He told me he hates me and wishes that Tooru and I never met.” Y/N stares at Kenma, and Kenma doesn’t know who the anger in Y/N’s eyes is aimed at.  He hopes not him. “He told me he wishes Tooru will see what a terrible person I am and just break up with me already, because he deserves better.  That I don’t deserve Tooru.”

“That’s not true,” Kenma says, because it’s not.  Even though Kenma may love Y/N, he knows that Tooru and Y/N deserve each other.  They really do. “You need to know that’s not true.”

“It doesn’t matter what’s true and what’s not,” Y/N snaps as he raises his head up more. “I told him he’s a burden.  I’m the reason why he tried to fucking kill himself.  I should’ve just waited, because it doesn’t always blow up in our faces, but it did this time.” Y/N pauses. “He’s right that I’m terrible person.”

“You’re not,” Kenma pushes, and it surprises him that he can speak like this.  Y/N’s eyes widen, meaning he’s clearly surprised too.  Kenma’s voice softens a little. “You’re not a terrible person, Y/N.  I promise.”

Y/N looks away from Kenma as he bites his lip.  There’s so much he clearly wants to sat, but he’s holding back.  It feels like such a small victory that Kenma can tell that.  He shouldn’t be thinking like that right now, but he can’t help it.

“You were worried about him, and you tried to do what you thought was right.” Kenma’s words are slowly, and Y/N doesn’t seem to grow frustrated by it. “I think the important thing is that Masaru is okay.  It doesn’t matter if he almost wasn’t.  What matters is that he’s okay now.”

Y/N is quiet, but he looks at Kenma out of the corner of his eye.  He’s analyzing him, and the back of Kenma’s neck grows hot uncomfortably.  Kenma is used to being the one who analyzes everyone around him, not the other way.

“I don’t know how to—you don’t understand,” Y/N says, and Kenma wants to know every thought going through Y/N’s head. “I don’t expect you to understand.  It’s probably best you don’t.  It’s just that this has happened before, and it was so much worse, so I tried to avoid it by intervening.  This was my fault.”

Kenma doesn’t say anything.  Y/N is right—he doesn’t understand.  Hearing that Masaru being in the hospital from a suicide attempt not being the worst thing that’s happened makes Kenma curious and scared.  What could be worse than this?  Does he want to know?

His eyes flicker from Y/N to the photo on the wall he has already memorized every detail of.  The messiness of Masaru’s hair and then Tooru’s perfectly styled hair.  Y/N isn’t wearing a hoodie, but a nice blue sweater.  There’s also how in-sync Y/N and Masaru look with their peace signs and bright smiles.  Tooru also has a peace sign, but he doesn’t look as in-synch with them.  The photo makes Kenma yearn for something he doesn’t know.

“I promised Masaru I’d be a good older brother,” Y/N says, and Kenma notices that Y/N is also staring at the picture. “That was before I started dating Tooru.  Masaru was so little, and he told me I was the best older brother, and I told him that I’d always be a good one.” A small, sad smile made its way to Y/N’s face before it fell. “I feel like I broke that promise.”

“He’s alive,” Kenma says, and Y/N looks over at him.  His eyes are filled with tears, and Kenma wants to look away, but he doesn’t. “He’s alive, and that’s all that should matter.”

Y/N nods but not like he really means it.  It’s hard to tell because the more Kenma looks at Y/N, the harder it is to see the Y/N he knows.  He wants this Y/N too—wants every version of Y/N he can get—but he doesn’t want to lose his Y/N.

“Want to watch what I’ve edited so far?” Y/N asks, and although there’s still sadness in his voice, it’s easier to ignore.  Kenma can hear the attempt of lightheartedness, and it makes it easier to breathe a little.  What does it say about him that he wants every version of Y/N but it’s hard to hear the raw version of him?  Does it just show that he’s human too?

“Yeah.”

There’s only 15 minutes of the film completely edited.  Kenma watches Y/N find the file in the completed folder, seeing the millions of other folders just to get there.  He didn’t know organization could be this intense, but it makes sense in video editing.  He knows that from experience of actually losing things and having to create a new system to not lose something again.

Although Kenma already knows the storyline and has been to several filming sessions, he’s sucked into the film once Y/N turns it on.  He’s not read the ending yet, since Y/N says he needs to fix a couple things since it’s changed since the project started.  Tooru joked that Y/N may never finish, which Y/N only rolled his eyes at and pushed him slightly as they both smiled.

“So,” Y/N says after his desktop screen goes black. “What do you think?” Kenma doesn’t speak, unsure what to say. “I know it’s not done, but what do you think about what I have now?  Is it good enough?”

“Yeah,” Kenma says, and he wishes he could find the right words to say.  Why is it always so hard to find the right words? “It was like I was there.” Y/N looks at him with curious eyes. “It felt real.”

“Thank you,” Y/N says softly.  He saves the project, even though neither of them messed with it, and closed out the window.  It’s probably instinct to save.  There’s no telling how many times Y/N may have lost his progress in the past.

Y/N stares at his desktop, and Kenma wants to say something.  There are words wanting to form in his mouth, but he doesn’t know what they are.  He doesn’t have anything to add, but he wants to say something.  It’s not that the silence is uncomfortable, because it isn’t, he just wants it to be filled.

“Why love?” Kenma asks, and Y/N looks at Kenma with slightly scrunched brows.  “For the film.  Why have Masaru focus on love?”

Y/N’s expression evens out as he leans back into his chair.  His hands play with the hem of his hoodie. “Well, because we always focus on romantic love when there’s so much more than that.” He pauses. “It’s always healthy romantic love, but never intense platonic love you must work for or recognizing toxic romantic love.  Love depends on the person, and I just want to show that.”

“What does it feel like for you?” Kenma asks, and he wants to take it back.  Not because Y/N has a weird expression, because he doesn’t.  Y/N looks happy to answer.  Kenma doesn’t know why he asked that.  He doesn’t know where it came from or why he wants to know.

“Well, it’s a little morbid,” Y/N says with a small laugh. “But I guess I’ll tell you.” He leans further back into his chair. “The best way to describe it is feeling like you’re on fire.  Everything is on fire—your life is burning basically, but that one person can put it out.  They make you better, but you don’t necessarily need them to survive.” Y/N stops playing with the hem of his hoodie to pick at his nails. “There are different kinds of fires, just like there are different kinds of people and desires.  It just depends on the person.”

Kenma can practically hear Y/N asking what love feels like for Kenma.  It’s hanging in the air between them.  Is he going to ask.  Are they going to wait for it dissipate?

“I don’t think I’ve ever been in love before,” Kenma says, and Y/N tilts his head.

“I don’t think that’s true.” Y/N’s words make Kenma flinch a little and worry that Y/N knows about these feelings Kenma has. “I know you love Shoyo and Kuroo.”

“Not romantically—”

“Kenma, you have been working with me on my film for three months now.  You know I mean more than just romantic love.” The harshness in Y/N’s voice makes Kenma flinch a little.  Y/N’s tone softens. “I love Masaru and Hajime and Koushi and Daichi and Tooru, but I don’t love all of them in the same exact way.  You can love people and it not be romantic.”

It’s quiet for a minute as Kenma stares at his hands.  He doesn’t know how he loves people.  He’s never had to think about it before because there’s never been a reason.  Is this a reason?  Is finding the words to share with Y/N a reason? ���I don’t know.”

“That’s okay,” Y/N says, which surprises Kenma a little.  He thought maybe Y/N would push a little. “You don’t have to know and you can always think about it, but you don’t have to.”

Kenma nods, and he will think about it.  He will think about it way too much, because how can he not?  How can he not think about something Y/N wants to know about him?

“I’ll try,” Kenma says, and Y/N nods.

It’s quiet again, and Kenma appreciates that the silence hasn’t been awkward.  It’d been uncomfortable hearing Y/N cry, but that was different.  He doesn’t consider crying to be silence.

“It’s pretty late.  Want to spend the night?”

Kenma’s head shoots up to look at Y/N, and he knows his eyes are wide.  Why is he acting like this?  He’s not ahigh schooler when around their crush.  He’s an adult.  He needs to act like it.

“If it’s not any trouble,” Kenam manages to get out, and Y/N softly smiles.

“It’s not.  You’ll have to sleep on the couch since the guest bedroom is now Masaru’s room.” Kenma nods, trying to say that’s okay, and Y/N claps his hands together.  The usual bright smile he has when he does so isn’t there, but he’s not frowning at least. “You can go to the living room while I grab some blankets and pillows for you.”

Kenma waits for Y/N to get up before him, too scared to seem eager.  His pulse won’t calm down, and he feels a little lightheaded.  Why is he acting like this?  He’s just staying the night, which he’s done before with other friends.  Akaashi lives closest to campus, so Kenma has spent the night with him.  There’s also the fact that he had frequent sleepovers with Kuroo when they were growing up.  Y/N isn’t any different, or he’s not supposed to be.  They’re friends. (Kenma knows that liking Y/N has everything to do with this, he just doesn’t want to address it.)

When Y/N comes into the living room with three blankets and two pillows, Kenma’s heart stops a little.  Y/N’s face shows he’d been crying but isn’t anymore.  He still doesn’t fully look like himself, because the life that usually shines in his eyes isn’t there.  All Kenma wants is one smile that fully reaches Y/N’s eyes, but he doubts he’ll get that tonight.

“This should be enough, right?  Want me to set up the couch?” Y/N asks, and Kenma shakes his head, even though he wants Y/N to.

“I think I can manage.  You can go to bed,” Kenma says, and Y/N doesn’t look convinced. “I’m going to stay up a little longer since this is kind of early for me to sleep.”

Y/N slowly nods. “Yeah, twitch streamer.  Sorry, sometimes I forget what kind of sleep schedule you have.”

Kenma doesn’t say anything, and it doesn’t seem to bother Y/N.  It never seems to bother Y/N, but Y/N is always paying attention when it happens.  He’s always watching Kenma, as if looking for an answer to something Kenma knows nothing about.

“Well, I’d recommend the thick blanket going on the bottom unless you think you’re going to get too cold.  It’ll give more padding that way, but the couch is already pretty comfortable on its own,” Y/N says, and Kenma nods.  There’s silence for a moment. “Good night, Kenma.”

“Good night,” Kenma says, and part of him wants to hear Y/N say it again.  He wants to hear Y/N say it every night, because that means they’ll be with each other every night.

Once Y/N leaves the living room and Kenma hears the bedroom door shut, he sits down on the couch.  The blankets and pillows sit next to him, and he thinks about screaming into them.  He wishes they hadn’t parted ways, and it makes him feel bad.  He’s here to comfort Y/N, but his feelings are getting in the way of being a good friend like he wants to be.

Kenma drags his hands down his face as he lets out a sigh.  He needs to figure out these feelings before it gets out of control.  He fears he’ll end up saying something that he’ll regret and lose Y/N.  It’s just that Y/N spoke about what love feels like, and it’s all he can think about now.  Will figuring that out help?

He doesn’t know and isn’t sure he wants to find out.  It’s all too much, and he really just wants Y/N to hold his hand.  He really just wants Y/N to look his way but look at him the same way Kenma looks at him.  He wants to say good night to each other every night and share secrets.  His heart yearns for Y/N and a life they could have.

Yearning.

Can love be yearning?  If so, does he love Y/N?  Is yearning how he feels love?

Kenma has no clue, and he wants to stop thinking about it.  He tries to busy himself as he gets the couch ready, but he can’t stop thinking about if he loves Y/N.  He yearns for Y/N, so he must love him.  Really, even if he didn’t yearn for him, he thinks he’d still love him.  Playing on his phone doesn’t help and staring at the ceiling only makes it worse.  He can’t get his thoughts to turn off.  There’s too many of them and nearly all of them involve Y/N in some way or another.

That’s when he finally comes to the conclusion that he does love Y/N and that he’s thoroughly fucked because of it.

Overhead Shot | Part Three | Rough Cut

Masterlist

#kenma kozume x male reader #kenma x male reader #haikyuu x male reader #haikyuu x reader #kenma x reader #kenma kozume #oikawa x male reader #oikawa x reader #oikawa tooru x reader #x male reader

[literaila]

flick, flick, burn

spencer reid x reader

request: Can i request a fic where the reader and spencer are dating and the reader believes that spencer if in love with jj so she distances herself from him??? and garcia finds out and reassures her?? sorry if this doesn’t make sense but thank u if you do decide to write it!😊

warnings: none.. theres lots of mentions of fire.. and jealousy... 

a/n: lovely lovely request, i’m sorry if i butchered it. 

It started with text messages. 

The stupid text messages. 

Spencer and Y/N were sitting on the couch, practically on each other's lap, watching some documentary about ancient Greece when Spencer got a text. 

Which was unusual. 

Every one of Spencer's friends knew that he hated texting, and hated using his phone in general. Which is why his pocket was constantly buzzing out of soft ringtone, instead of insistent messages. 

But he had gotten a text. 

Y/N didn't think of it until later. 

Later when he started taking long phone calls late at night. 

When he started taking phone calls when he thought she was asleep. When Y/N laid in bed and wondered, wondered where he went, wondered when he was coming back, wondered why he had left. 

He never took phone calls that late. 

She pretended it wasn't happening, after all, he always came back to bed, always came back and always wrapped his arms around her waist, and she always pretended to be asleep, she always listened to him breathe into her neck until he was asleep again. 

He didn't know she was awake. 

Phone calls didn't mean something was wrong. 

Everything else was the same, Spencer still woke Y/N up with soft kisses in the morning, he still called her ‘love’ and reminded her to be safe at work. He still got flustered at Morgan calling them “lovebirds” and he still waited until everyone looked away to kiss her. He still brought her coffee at her desk, still read to her at night before they slept. Everything else was exactly the same. 

And if Spencer wasn't going to say anything about the phone calls, neither was Y/N. 

It wasn't until later, later when he seemed more distracted, later when he had to skip out on dinner, “I just have to- have to go get this book. I’ll be back later.” he had said, it wasn't until later when he didn't get back for several hours, it wasn't until then Y/N really started paying attention. 

Something was going on. 

It didn't take a profiler to see that. 

It wasn't that he had to tell her everything, no she didn't expect that from him, but she also didn't expect him to start leaving the house almost every time they were home, and she didn't expect him to get back when she had already gone to bed. 

So she started paying more attention. 

And the texts, and phone calls, and the leaving at strange times of night, they all continued. 

Y/N thought about asking, thought about telling Spencer what she had noticed, but she didn't want him to think she didn't trust him. She didn't want him to feel like he wasn't allowed to have his own things. 

And then she noticed something else. 

Near the end of the workday she had been walking to Hotch's office to turn in her case reports, she was exhausted and on her 6th cup of coffee, she walked by JJ’s office when she noticed something in the window. 

JJ and Spencer. 

Talking. 

That wasn't weird, it wasn't unusual. Since Y/N’s first day of work, she had known about the strong friendship the two of them shared. 

It wasn't them being together that she noticed. 

It was the way Spencer was looking at her. 

The way he was standing in front of her, smiling, a far off look in his face.

It was the way JJ was smiling back. 

It was the look, a look Y/N had seen so many times, a look Spencer only used when he was looking at her, it was the look that she’d fallen in love with. 

It was the look he was giving JJ. 

 She felt her heart racing as she thought of the prospect that Spencer was looking at JJ the way he looked at Y/N. She felt gasoline fill her stomach, and then her lungs, and she felt it when the gas was ignited in her brain. 

She was on fire. 

She stared and felt her mind turning. She remembered something Spencer had told her, years ago, when they were still just friends. She remembered the dazed look on his face and the smile in his eyes. She remembered the words that he said, the words that she repeated in her head even then 

I think I’m in love with her. 

She was burning. 

She remembered the way he used to stare at her, used to be amazed at everything she did. She remembered him trying to act more mature, less awkward, around her.

Her chest was burning. 

She remembered how innocent and lovestruck he had been. 

Her stomach was burning.

She remembered watching as he went to invite her to the football game. 

Her mind was burning. 

She remembered how crushed he’d been when the date hadn’t gone as planned. 

She was burning hot, and stuck in place, and frozen staring at them. She was being melted from the inside out. She watched and she watched and eventually, when she felt like it was almost over, when she could almost feel her body turn to ash, it was then that she walked away. 

It was then that she walked into the bathroom and gasped, and cursed at herself for thinking the way she was thinking. She shouldn't have been thinking that Spencer would never do that. She trusted Spencer and she shouldn't have been thinking that. 

How could she ever think that? 

Even though she reassured herself, told herself, over and over, Spencer would never do that, even though she repeated that in her head, and out loud in front of the mirror, even though she said it over and over again, it didn't go away. 

The flame in her body had died down, it stopped scaring her from the inside, but it wasn't gone. It was only a sliver of a flame, barely big enough to be noticeable, but it wasn't gone. No, it didn't leave. 

In fact, the fire, the blaze in her body, it had only just begun.  

***

“But, Pen! I saw it.” 

“Sweetheart, you’re making stuff up.” 

Y/N walked -paced- around Penelope’s office. She was holding a ball in her hands, which she threw in the air over and over again as she thought about JJ and Spencer. 

It had been almost two weeks since she first saw them in the office, two weeks since she had started obsessing over JJ and Spencer. 

She noticed everything now. 

She noticed Spencer smile at JJ whenever he looked at her, she noticed how JJ smiled back, she noticed how Spencer always seemed to focus all his attention on JJ when she was around, she noticed the way they teased and laughed together. She noticed how Spencer was always waiting after something he said for feedback from JJ, and how JJ always gave him it. She noticed how empty her house was when Spencer was gone and thought how lonely she felt when she had no idea where he’d gone. She noticed the constant text messages and hour-long phone calls. 

She noticed how the flame inside of her only got bigger anytime any of those things happened. 

Y/N couldn't keep it to herself, couldn't keep noticing all these things, and keeping them ingrained in her head. 

She noticed how distant she had become from Spencer, choosing to watch him instead of being with him, and she noticed the fear of living in her body every time he was around. She didn't want to talk to him about it, didn't want him to get the wrong idea- didn't want to hear the truth.

 So she talked to Garcia instead. 

“No. No.” Y/N walked over to Penelope and sat down in the spare chair next to her. “He looked at her like he looked at me.” 

“Did he really, or are you making it up?” Penelope said, dubious, as she typed something. 

Y/N could feel herself getting more and more annoyed. She knew what she saw. 

“Penelope. I know that look. It's the look he gives me.” 

It was then that Garica looked at Y/N, really looked at her. What she saw was a panicked girl, who looked like she hadn't been getting enough sleep. She saw a panicked girl who looked scared. 

Garcia turned to face her, deciding that what Y/N needed right then, more than anything, was someone to listen. 

“Okay cupcake, tell me what happened.” 

And Y/N explained, she explained what she saw in the office, she explained the words Spencer had explained so long ago, she explained the texts and the phone calls, and the late night's Spencer was gone. She explained and she kept going, kept thinking, overthinking. The flame inside her was flickering higher and higher. 

Garcia listened to everything, and after Y/N was finished she looked at her and sighed. “Are you sure we’re thinking about the same person?” 

“Penelope.” 

“What? The genius I know loves you, with his entire heart.” she paused, “besides, Spencer would never do that.” 

Y/N quietly mumbled, “yeah I know…” 

“Okay, then what's still bothering you sugar?” 

“I just.. I feel like something is going on. I can't explain it..” Y/N said desperately, the heat in her chest branding her. “And I don't want to talk to him about it, actually I’m not even sure when I could get a chance!” she said and threw her hands up “It's not like he's been home recently…” 

“Pumpkin I’m sure there's a reasonable explanation…” 

“Yes, I know. I know that! But I just, we haven't even had the time to talk about anything these past couple of weeks and he’d rather go out and do something than spend time with me…” 

“Oh, sweetheart.” 

Burn baby, burn to the ground. 

***

Another week passed. Another week of Y/N avoiding talking to her boyfriend, the man she was infuriatingly in love with. Another week of watching from the sidelines as JJ got more smiles than Y/N got glances. Another week of spending hours in bed waiting for him to come back, and then pretending to be asleep. 

It was another dreadful week. 

It was a bit different this week though, this week Y/N had been actively trying to avoid Spencer. It wasn't because she didn't want to see him, she wanted to see him so much it killed her, it was because she was tired of feeling alone with him. She was tired of cuddling with him at night but barely talking to him the next morning. She was tired of watching him talk with JJ, tired of watching the two of them leave the room together, not knowing what either of them were doing. She was tired of him not being home, tired of it all.

So she avoided it.

And that included avoiding Spencer. 

She didn't wait for him to bring her coffee, set her alarm to wake up to- earlier than him -sat on the opposite side of the plane, reading her file instead of going over it with him. 

She got the feeling that Spencer noticed, based on the reassuring smiles she got more often than not from him, which she assumed were messages asking if she was okay, messages promising he was there for her. 

She ignored them. 

She just looked away. 

Y/N knew it was childish, avoiding him instead of talking out their issues, instead of talking to him about what was bothering her. Most of the time she felt ridiculous doing it, but she couldn't take any more of the exhaustion that came with being present all the time. 

It was the night after a short case, one that had worked out in favor of all of them, when Spencer asked her if she wanted to go to dinner. 

“Um, I don't know if I can,” she replied, not looking at him, “I think me and Pen are doing something tonight…” 

She didn't see the way Spencer frowned, his almost nervous, almost hopeful stance deflating. 

“Oh. I um-” he cleared his throat “its.. kind of important.” his face was tense and his eyes were staring right at her, hoping she would look at him and see how important it really was. 

When she didn't answer, instead choosing to continue unpacking her bag, he tried again. 

“Y/N… I really need to talk to you,” he said teasingly. 

“Can't see why you would need to talk to me now.” Y/N mumbled under her breath, the past couple of weeks flying through her head. Why did he need her now? What about JJ?

“What?” Spencer said, stepping closer to her. 

“Nothing Spence..” she sighed. She was going to have to run out of the house and barge into Garcias without any warning. That's what I get for lying, she thought. “I really have to go though.” She said walking past Spencer, who now had a frown on his face. 

He had noticed the distance between them in the past couple of weeks, noticed how little he had really seen her, but he figured it was only because he started it, he figured Y/N was just trying to leave him alone. 

He didn't think she didn't want to spend time with him. 

Just as Y/N was about to walk out the door and go crying to her friend, she heard her boyfriend speak from behind her. 

“Are you trying to avoid me?” 

Y/N jumped, surprised he had followed her to the door. It took a couple of moments before she processed the question. 

Was she actively avoiding him? Yes. Did he need to know that? Probably not. 

“No,” she said quietly, cursing herself for not being more convincing. 

“Y/N, we haven't spent any proper time together in…” he paused for only a second, just a second, “23 days. I miss you, love.” 

She stayed silent. She missed him too. 

Flick, flick. 

Fire. 

“Y/N?” 

Burn. Fire. Burning her. From. The inside out. Talk to him. Say something. 

Y/N shakily let out a breath. If she could just breathe, maybe it would be enough for the fire to burn out, maybe it would just be enough for the flame inside of her to extinguish. 

Flick, flick, higher. 

Her head was running, running away from Spencer away from it all. But her body was there, she was there, and she was running closer. 

“Y/N? Is there something going on?” 

Maybe Spencer had been talking this entire time, maybe she just hadn't noticed it, maybe she had missed something. She didn't know, she only caught a couple of words, a couple of words between the insistent voice in her head, between all the worried thoughts that came to her, burning the fire up her throat. 

Why haven't you been home? Where have you been? Why are you getting so many text messages, who is texting you? I’m going crazy. Is there something happening with JJ, is there some rational answer to all my questions. Why am I still here? Why am I burning. Why do you look at JJ like that what is going on- 

Flick, flick, flame. 

“Is there something going on with JJ?” she said finally. Quickly. Quietly. 

She didn't even know if Spencer heard her. 

“What?” 

He did. 

“I saw you.” burn. “A couple of weeks ago.” burn. “In her office, you were,” burn “you were standing with her and- and it…” a flash. “And you were... You were just.” just burn. “You were looking…” swallow. breathe. Burn.

She paused. She paused because she didn't know what to say, didn't understand why it hurt her so much to talk to him, didn't understand why she couldn't just say the words, why it was so difficult for her to tell him, she didn't understand why she was talking at all. 

She didn't understand why she was burning alive. 

She heard Spencer say something behind her. Something that sounded like encouragement to go on. She didn't realize that he was standing in front of her, she didn't look up to see him, he was standing in front of her, staring at her, wondering what was wrong.

“You were looking at her,” flick “looking at her.” higher “like you look.” and “like you look at me.” higher. 

The fire had reached her brain, had scarred her entire body, had devoured her whole, had left her with no mercy. 

Burn, baby, burn. 

And Spencer was thinking, he knew what his girlfriend was saying, he knew her inside and out. He was trying, trying to remember, trying to recall a time where he had ever looked at JJ, a time where he had looked at anyone, like he had looked at Y/N, trying to remember what had happened in her office a couple of weeks ago. 

“Do you love her?” Y/N said finally. 

And to her, it was as if she couldn't think anymore, she didn't have the room to think with the fire inside her body, her mental block was gone, and all she could say were the words that scared her, the words she wished were not true. 

She didn't look at Spencer to see him shocked. She didn't look to see the way his eyes widened. 

She didn't look to see him remembering exactly what had happened. He smiled at the memory, at the memory at him and JJ in her office, talking. 

Spencer realized where all of this had gone wrong. But his words didn't come quick enough and Y/N continued. 

“You’ve been gone. You’ve been gone a lot, and you’ve been taking phone calls late at night” the fire was getting hotter and hotter “and I’ve been pretending to sleep, and you haven't been smiling at me and- and I-” her entire body was begging her to stop but she continued, continued helping the flames rise “I’ve been thinking you would never do that- because you- you wouldn't but I can't think of anything else and.” 

Burn. 

Spencer watched his girlfriend crumble before him. He watched her, and he saw all the things he’d been missing, he saw her eyes break and her body fall, and he wondered when he had missed how alone he’d left her. 

“I don't know what to do Spence,” she said finally. 

And the flame was in her heart, it was in her heart turning her to ash. She wondered, if she was gone, if her body was finally too tired, too strained to go on, she wondered if she was a pile of char on their carpet, she wondered if the fire had stopped. 

She looked up at her boyfriend. 

She didn't know what was going on. 

Spencer was talking to her, he was trying to explain, trying to tell her, but when he looked in her eyes he could tell that she wasn't listening. He could tell he had to do something else. 

They were already running late. 

He wondered how to fix this. 

“Y/N..” he said. 

And she could hear him. She could always hear him. Even over the fire in her ears. 

“Y/N love, I need to take you somewhere okay? I need to take you somewhere, and I’ll explain everything I promise. I just need you to come with me okay?” 

Y/N nodded. 

Maybe the fire would go away soon.

***

It was silent in the car. 

Y/N was silent. She was sitting in the passenger seat, trying to breathe, trying to collect herself. She didn't want to be a pile of ash sitting in her seat, she wanted to be there, she wanted to listen, she wanted to listen, she wanted to understand. She was trying her best to breathe. 

She wondered where they were going. She didn't recognize anything around her. 

Spencer was silent. He was collecting his thoughts, collecting his nerves, he knew right now he should be taking care of his girlfriend, his girlfriend who looked so broken standing in their doorway only a half an hour ago, but he needed to think. He needed to think about what he would tell her how he would explain. 

Both of them stayed quiet. 

It was 15 minutes later when Spencer made a right turn, into an empty parking lot. They were 45 minutes away from their house, 45 minutes away from the fire, 45 minutes closer to the truth. 

Y/N still had no idea what was going on. 

Spencer parked the car and unbuckled his seatbelt. 

Y/N built up the courage to look at him, she still didn't say a word. 

“Come on, we’re almost there,” Spencer said, giving her a hesitant smile. She didn't smile back. 

Spencer walked away from the car, and Y/N followed him. She followed him on a light path made in the ground, followed him past a small pond, followed him up a hill, up up the hill where Spencer stopped, where he waited for her to catch up, looking ahead of him. 

Y/N made it up and looked with him. 

There was a pavilion 10 feet away from them, it sat on top of the hill, lit up with fairy lights, Y/N walked closer. She saw flowers that laid the ground, candles that she assumed were meant for when it got dark. 

She saw a plan in front of her. 

She still had no idea what was going on. 

“What's-” she swallowed her voice almost numb with disbelief “what's this?” she asked. 

Spencer smiled, only a little, and grabbed her hand leading her inside the pavilion. 

“This,” he said “is what was so important.” 

Y/N looked around again. “I-I still don't understand.” 

She was trying to breathe. Trying to put out the flame still alive inside of her. She was trying to understand why they were here. 

“Let's sit down. I can explain everything.” 

“Explain,” she said softly, almost as if a question, as he helped her sit down. 

It was silent for a few moments, Y/N could feel her heart racing, burning, as she waited for him to speak. 

“I don't- I don't know when I got so caught up..I’m not- I-” Spencer sighed and ran a hand through his hair. He had no idea how to explain it all to her, no idea how to make her feel better. 

Y/N sat there patiently with her hands in her lap, she watched Spencer's expression change, she felt her own body buzzing, waiting for an answer. 

Flick. 

“I needed JJ’s help. I was panicking freaking out, and I needed her help.” 

Flicker.

“Why?” Y/N asked softly. 

“I couldn't talk to you- you’ll understand more soon but, I have to explain something. I have to make you understand. Alright?” Spencer stopped, and he looked at her, his brown eyes were shining, staring into Y/N’s, and she nodded. 

“I may have loved JJ at one point,” 

Burn, burn bright. 

“I may have loved her, but never, not once in my entire life, have I loved someone as much as I love you.”

I love you, burn. 

“And I’ve never looked at anyone the way I look at you. Okay?” 

Y/N stayed silent. Fire, deep within her body, flared, bright, hot. 

“That day-” Spencer said quickly, grabbing Y/N’s hands from her lap and holding them in his, “That day in the office, I wasn't thinking about JJ, I was thinking about you. She had asked me, a question, about you, and I was thinking about you. And how much I love you. I wasn't thinking about her. I haven't thought about her like that in years.”

Y/N breathed in. She breathed out. 

“Then what's been going on?” She asked, she believed him, but she still didn't understand, still couldn't grasp why any of this was happening in the first place. 

“I needed JJ’s help. It's proven by research that females are much better at planning and strategy. Males tend to jump into things and be far less organized and thorough and-” 

“Spencer.” Y/N cut in, even confused, she knew when Spencer was rambling off-topic. 

“Right, sorry. Anyway, I needed her help. About a month ago I panicked and asked for her help, and then she was texting me, and the calling was just so you didn't hear and- the day in the office, it was... We were doing more planning.” 

“Planning for what Spencer? I still don't understand.” 

Spencer’s eyes lit up at the question. He smiled, and he stared at her for a moment. He looked away and laughed quietly, then looked back at Y/N who had a frown on her face. 

Spencer gently moved his hand to grab her forearm and he helped her stand up. 

Y/N didn't understand what was happening, all she knew was that no matter how much she breathed, the boiling fire in her chest wouldn't leave, wouldn't leave. 

“Y/N… do you remember the first time I told you I loved you?” Spencer said softly. 

Y/N nodded remembering very clearly, remembering the case they had been on, remembering how tense Spencer was, remembering how she told him to breathe, to just think, remembering how she reminded him of how smart he was. She remembered pointing something out, just something small, and it was like the dots in Spencer's brain had connected. She remembered how he’d marked something down quickly, remembered how he turned back to her with a breathtaking smile on his face. 

She remembered how he moved forward and grasped her face, she remembered his words, his words that had made her feel a million different feelings, and almost nothing at the same time. 

I love you. 

She remembered every moment after, the shock on his face like he hadn't meant to say it, she remembered kissing him softly, she remembered repeating it back to him. 

They hadn't stopped saying it since. 

“Well, all I can remember is feeling amazed, feeling amazed that you could make me feel something I’d never felt before. I thought I knew everything, but I was wrong because I never knew how wonderful it would feel to love you. It was you, you were the one that taught me how wonderful being someones everything was, not JJ, not anyone else.” 

There was a moment, a moment Y/N almost felt like the fire was gone, a moment she thought Spencer's words had blown it away. 

It still wasn't enough though. 

Flick, flick. 

She still didn't understand completely. 

“This is where I wanted to take you tonight, this was all planned, all for you,” Spencer said, leaning down and kissing her forehead. 

He must have looked back at her and seen the confusion on her face because he continued. “You told me once when we had first started dating, that you loved sunsets.” 

“You remember that?” Y/N answered back, surprising herself with her own voice. 

Spencer chuckled softly at her, his smile reminding her of the one he had worn when he’d first said I love you. Everything he was doing was reminding her of little moments in their relationship. 

She stared at his chest, her mind practically in the clouds. 

“Well technically I remember everything…” he said. 

Y/N looked up at him, looked up at his smile, her mind back with her body, she could feel her face contract with the muscles of her mouth. 

It felt like the first time she’d smiled in days. 

She shoved him back a little, softly, “Don't be a jerk.” she said, just loud enough for him to hear. 

“Y/N…” she looked at his eyes. “This.” he pecked her lips, moving back far too quickly. “This is why we’re here. This is why I needed JJ's help, why we were talking about you, why I was panicking. This is why I've been so secretive.” 

The fire. 

He moved back. Burn. 

He pulled something out of his pocket. 

Y/N’s chest was flaring, her heart was beating, her head was finally, finally beginning to understand, finally beginning to know what was happening. 

Her stomach was still on fire. 

He kneeled down. 

Too much, too much, too hot.

Flick, flick.

“Y/N.” a flare in her chest “You are,” a flare in her throat “the only person I have ever loved this much.” a flare burning up into her brain “the only person, I think, to be everything.” 

Burn, baby burn. 

“You are the only person to ever prove me wrong.” 

A box. 

A flame. 

A ring. 

“You are the only person who makes me forget everything,” Spencer said, he said as her chest burned, as the fire in her stomach, in her heart, in her head, as the fire flared. Spencer looked at her, he looked at her just as he always looked at her, looked at her like there was no other way he could spend the rest of his life, looked at her like he wanted to look at her forever. 

She could feel her heart burn hotter and hotter. 

Tears were coming out of her eyes. 

She gasped. 

“Y/N..” 

Burn. 

Burn. 

Bright. 

“Will you marry me?” 

Flick, fire, gone. 

my masterlist here

#spencer reid smut #spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x you #spencer reid x y/n #criminal minds imagine #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds #criminal minds rp #criminal minds headcanons #emily prentiss x reader #mgg #mgg x reader #mgg blurb

[willowbleedsonpaper]

Winter In The Shade III

Part III

Sirius Black x Ravenclaw Reader

W.C. : 2383

Requested by @amourtentiaa : It is Sirius' fifth year at Hogwarts, the same year he ran away from home and to the Potter's. Soon, he discovers the unfamiliar sight of his brother Regulus smiling and looking truly happy, next to him a Ravenclaw girl who immediately captures his interest. What will happen when the Black family gets involved in their sons lives and the ones they hold close to their hearts?

Warnings: Mentions of food. / Eating. /

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Masterlist | Series Masterlist

Regulus' eyes opened immediately at the mention of his brother. With furrowed eyebrows he stared at you deeply “What?” he asked cautiously, his mind still registering your question.

You moved to sit closer to him, knees touching as you looked for his eyes “Sirius,” you repeated “Can you tell me about him?”

He stayed in silence for what felt like hours, his eyes hardened as you saw him put his walls up again. It didn’t come as a surprise to you that he closed himself at your question but now you wondered how sensitive the subject was for him to be looking at you the way he looked at everyone else.

“Why do you want to know?” he asked with pursed lips. He crossed his arms over his chest, his gaze so hard over you that it forced you to look away from him and down to your lap.

“I- well, I know you are close to him but you barely talk about him. Actually, I think I’ve never seen you talk to him.” you explained, hoping he couldn’t read you and see that it was more than just mere curiosity.

“We’re not close.” he said sharply, his voice bitter.

“Oh… okay.” you nodded, playing with the grass underneath you “I just assumed you were.” you said with a smile, trying to get him to relax as you changed the subject “What do you want to do over the weekend?” your arm moved to nudge his side, a playful smile on your face.

“What do you want to do?” he asked back, the ghost of a smile on his lips.

Your heart broke as you stared at him, his eyes void as he tried and failed to put on a smile for you, you knew you had killed his mood for the time being and you felt terrible, your own smile falling as you shrugged your shoulders “I don’t know.” you mumbled “I always choose, I thought you’d have something you want to do.”

Regulus didn’t move and you thought he might be just thinking. With your head low, you missed the way his eyes stared down at you, watching the way you thoughtlessly played with your hands as you waited for his answer. He knew you better than you would like to admit, you were never one to keep your head low. You felt bad for asking him about Sirius, retreating to the world inside your head so you would do no more harm. And he felt the knot in his stomach tightening for how he reacted, how his reaction affected you; but still he couldn’t help it, it was second nature for him to put his guard up at the mention of his brother. He wanted to tell you to never ask about Sirius again, that no matter what you heard he wouldn’t talk about it but he could see you were already overthinking everything you had done since the question crossed your mind. He said nothing and just appreciated the fact that you stayed with him and that, that’s what made you different from everyone else. Even if you didn’t understand why he reacted the way he did, even if you didn’t know what had happened between him and Sirius, you didn’t push it and you stayed when you could have easily walked away like he had seen you do with others when they stepped out of line. You stayed with him, and even if he wanted nothing more than to get up and leave, he stayed there with you. You stayed for each other.

“I’m fine with anything you want to do.” he told you after minutes of silence.

Your head rose up in surprise “Really?” you asked with a small smile.

He nodded, his face relaxed “Really.” he said, turning on his side as he started to get on his feet, your eyes following his movements closely “I have to go and get something from my dorm. Wait for me here?” he said.

You nodded and sat back as he started to walk away, your eyes suddenly falling on the small group of people a few meters from you, all of them laughing and running around, nothing out of the ordinary but you stared too long. They must have felt your gaze on them, the one wearing glasses and a permanent smirk turning to the one at his side, patting him in the shoulder as he motioned his head towards you.

You jumped to your feet, running the small distance to the castle “Reg!” you yelled, grabbing the ends of your scarf as it flew over your face. He stopped at the sudden sound on your voice, looking over your shoulder in confusion before his eyes settled on you.

“What 's wrong?” he asked, his hand reaching for yours in an instant as he linked his arm with yours.

You smiled, shaking your head “Can I go with you?” you asked out of breath “I don’t really fancy staying there all alone.” you told him.

He looked back to where you sat not a minute ago, looking for any sign you were lying but saw none. “Of course.” he said, his eyes lingering in the distance before he shook his head, resuming his walk with you at his side.

You looked back once more, seeing the place completely empty but you knew it meant nothing. You had seen Sirius and he had seen you leave.

*******

The weekend was spent doing more things that you or Regulus could actually remember. Even if in all honesty, you two remembered every single detail.

You had forced the both of you to get up early to get breakfast before anyone else, or more like forced Regulus to get you up early because between the two of you, he was both the early bird and the night owl, while you were the sleepy bear.

It was one of your missions to be ghosts during the weekend, to never be seen by anyone else as if you didn’t exist in the perspective of others; and if they did manage to get a glimpse of the two of you, that was all it was, a glimpse of something they would never see again until monday morning. Two entire days for you and him to just exist and bond over simple things and activities, it was the only days he would stay out late with you and you took full advantage of that.

“What are we doing in the kitchens?” he asked as you pulled his hand to keep him walking.

“What do you think?” you asked with a laugh “What do you use kitchens for?” you let go of his hand, starting to rummage over all the things there as he just stared at you.

“Cooking…” he said wearily, his eyes snapping at you as you yelled in triumph.

“And baking!” you beamed, holding the cookie trays over your head “Well, c’mon.” you called him, motioning for him to get close. With a chuckle you turned to face him, ravishing in the completely confused look he had on his face, of course he had never done any baking. “I am sharing my Grandmother's red velvet cookies recipe with you.” you said, taking his hands and rolling his sleeves up for him “It is my pleasure to tell you that you are the only one I would share this recipe with.”

He smiled as you worked on his sleeves, watching you carefully as he gave you his other arm “I’m honored.” he said, meeting your eyes full with excitement.

You clapped your hands before you as you started to move around the kitchen, starting to measure the ingredients as you never ceased to talk, giving instructions and showing him how to get all the things ready. A task that should have been done in an hour took you both at least two; in between laughs, chatting and the small war that got you both covered in flour you emerged from the kitchens once the moon was already shining up in the night sky.

You had baked enough cookies for the week ahead of you, carrying them with you to every class and place you had to go. It was easy to sneak a small piece of it to Regulus or to eat one yourself since you spent the entirety of your time together and shared most of your classes, with the exception of your optative classes. Whilst you and Regulus took a great curiosity for Ancient Runes, you had also opted for studying divination as it woke something in you, how you could interpret different signs to know the future. It was so fun and interesting you couldn’t let the opportunity pass. Regulus thought it was ridiculous to think you could know the future by reading tea leaves but you paid him no mind.

On the days you had Divination, you found yourself wandering the halls alone, a weird sight for anyone who had been paying attention to yours and Regulus’ friendship flourishing. You walked the long hallways to get to the North Tower, a piece of cookie in hand as you took small bites of it, looking everywhere but where you were headed.

“Woah!” exclaimed a voice next to you as they barely stopped on their tracks “We really need to stop meeting like this.” Sirius smiled, looking at you with a smirk.

The corner of your mouth lifted for a fraction of second, your eyes already looking for an escape to not avail “Hello.” you mustered, starting to walk around him only for him to match your steps.

“That 's it?” he asked, baffled “Hello?” he repeated, trying and failing to imitate your voice.

Taking a hesitant look at him you tried to keep looking forward. “That’s still the right term, isn’t?” you said, never stopping to acknowledge him again, not giving him the chance to speak up.

You walked awkwardly next to him until you reached the beginning of the stairs to the Divination classroom, the space narrowed so only one person could fit comfortably, or two people walking very close together. You closed your eyes shut, you were not ready for this.

“Can I help you with something?” you snapped, turning to stare at him as you climbed on the first step of the stairs, looking directly into his eyes. You, of course, took him off guard with the sudden burst of emotion, his mouth opening with no chance to speak “You keep showing up everywhere I am, you walked next to me all the way here when you certainly don’t take divination so tell me, is there something I can help you with?” you spat the words, not even stopping to think them before they were out of your mouth. “Is it- is it because I didn’t tell you my name? Because if you really wanted to know, it’s Y/N. You’re Sirius. Nice to meet you. Goodbye.” you said, turning on your heel and walking up the stairs.

Sirius stopped momentarily to appreciate the beauty of your name, hearing the melody repeating inside his head and how much it fitted you. Y/N, he thought, shaking his head and snapping out of the trance you put him in before he jumped the steps to catch up with you “Look, I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable.” he said loudly, trying to keep up with your speed “I just want to know you, okay?”

You scrunch your nose in confusion but never stopped, letting his words flow as he said them.

“I think you’re really interesting and, in all honesty, really beautiful.” he said, making you hide your face from him as a flush appeared over your cheeks, but his next words erased all trace of the previous feelings he provoked on you, replacing the fluttery feeling in your stomach with a knot “I’ve seen you with Regulus and heard a lot about..”

“So that’s what this is all about?” you cut him mid sentence, clenching your hands in fists as you turned to him once more “If you want to know about Regulus you can find someone else or ask him yourself.” you said with a huff, crossing your arms as you glared at him, hating the way your heart started to beat harder inside your chest.

Sirius shook his head and climbed the few steps separating you, still leaving a considerable space in between “No, that’s no it.” he explained “You’re just… I’ve already told you, alright? I would like to get to know you.”

Saying you were confused was an understatement, the complete mess of thoughts running inside your head too loud to even form a coherent phrase. You wanted to be sure he was just using you, that he only wanted to mess with Regulus and make him mad, but the glint in his eyes told you nothing but the contrary to that exact thought. What if he was true to his word and just wanted to know you?

You were certain the hurricane of emotions was showing on your face, your eyes glued to his as he took a hesitant step towards you and, when you didn’t back away a smile appeared on his lips, walking in front of you he placed his hand over yours “Y/N.” he whispered.

He sounded just like him.

“I’m sorry.” you muttered, slowly moving your hand away from his grasp “I don’t know what happened between you and Regulus and it’s really not my place to ask, I would really hate to get involved.” And pick sides you thought, taking a step back.

You wanted to believe he meant well and just wanted to get close to you but you couldn’t risk getting Regulus hurt. If the sole mention of his brother’s name put his walls up what would happen if he found out his best friend, the only person he let his guard down with and the only one he trusted, was friends with the brother that hurt him so much. You couldn't risk hurting Regulus, not you.

“He’s the only one I have.” you said slowly with a small yet sad smile on your face, and with that you turned.

And again, Sirius let you walk away.

TAGS

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Marauders

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Winter In The Shade

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#winter in the shade #sirius black #sirius black x y/n #sirius black x you #sirius black x reader #sirius black x ravenclaw!reader #sirius black fanfiction #regulus black #the marauders #marauders era #marauders fanfiction

[neko-rogers]

hey!! I’m not sure if your inbox is still open but I thought I’d send this just in case! what would you think abt a dark!peter who’s obsessed w s/o and offers to have her stay with him during like the stay-at-home pet of covid so she’s not alone then when it’s lifted he’s like lol you’re not leaving. sorry that’s kinda long and super specific. i absolutely love your writing though!!💗

Jamie All Over

words: 2,040 (no, i should be sorry bc this was chaotic)

tags: didn’t expect it to be this LONG, manipulative!peter parker, grooming, overprotectiveness, slight mentions of sex, don’t expect too much lmao its a headcanon

a/n: hi babe! i wasn’t entirely sure if you wanted this as a one shot (but if u do let me know!)

so you’re pretty unaware of every move peter is trying to do with you, you know? you were not really sure if it was a kind gesture, as the gentleman he seemed to be, or was it just a special treatment

ever since second year and until now as both of you were on your fourth year, he was consistent with his efforts

these moves were moments like when he would carry your books to your next class or confidently invite you to a study ‘date’ at the library after – often times he tells that his friends were invited, but would never show up later on

sometimes he would bring you lunch. you tried to turn it down kindly, but he insists that it was purposely packed as an extra for when he stays late around the university.

it was a lie though. anyone could tell by the way it was prepared looking very appetizing and tasted just as amazing at it was presented. 

and as peter had mentioned that he lived alone, you also assumed he was the one to make his meals. you were so sure he doesn’t pack for an extra and intentionally wants to impress you with his skills.

“hey, y/n!,” he calls, “look this eggroll has a cute design!”

he honestly was an epitome of a walking sunshine. his smile seemed so pure and you never felt any ill-intent for every gesture he had done for you

his friends seemed very welcoming the moment he introduced you to his group

you got along with ned who seemed to be just as joyful and funny as peter. meanwhile mj was a bit more of a tough cookie, nevertheless you both eventually got a long better than you expected

however, it came to one point wherein your own group of friends started being disheartened with your lack of communication

“you’ve been spending more time with that parker boy, huh?” “yeah, kinda?” “are you two like... dating?” “oh no! no... no... nooo!”

the moment they frowned at you was then that you realized and felt a little more guilty. you always remembered that friends were supposed to be friends despite the lack of time and effort, right?

somehow you tried to compensate for the lack of time with your friends. but every minute you spend felt more awkward than before

they weren’t sharing the same vibe with you and you were starting to question if it had been always like it – were you only adjusting to them?

you reached out for peter, considering that he became one of the closest and trusted people around the university. plus, he seemed to have genuinely great friends

“do you feel happy when you’re spending time with them?”

“well i used to but recently–”

“then you should stop being friends with them.”

you were upset for a second. the way he instantly told you that cutting ties with them would be the (only) option

he sounded serious on the other end of the line and you were just speechless for a moment. the dead air between lines was evident, but you didn’t know what to say

“sorry,” peter makes up, “i didn’t mean to sound too serious. i just don’t like people who are rude, especially to you.”

“oh, it’s fine. i totally get it.” you felt a batch of butterflies around your stomach. someone actually cared for you!!!

the moment you didn’t hesitate on losing your friendship with your past friends and moved on with joining peter’s group, things felt lighter.

somehow you felt more expressive than you realized. they were open to your ideas and thoughts, just as you were with them. you felt super comfortable and realized that you weren’t holding back on anything anymore

that’s why you had expected your winter break to be better than your past ones

everyone agreed to skate around the ice rink in rockefeller for christmas. along with it, also spending new year’s eve at the time square

news flash: you finally had the cliche new year’s eve kiss, with none other than peter parker!!! hooray!!!

for anyone who had common sense, your feelings for peter had accentuated. you weren’t denying it either, and the boy wasn’t oblivious to it too

he was just so irresistible and kind to you, like, all the time – to surreal, honestly

you felt and KNEW you were spoiled with peter (and his friends, who liked to spend time with you outside too, just not as much as him)

just as you were planning your spring break activities, it had to be postponed for another time

a lockdown had to be implemented around the country as it was under the state of a pandemic

mj and ned told the group that they’ll be with their families since lectures had to be concluded for the mean time

you planned to do the same, but you expected that this situation wouldn’t last long. so you chose to stay in your dorm rather than return to your hometown

completely sucks since you not only don’t get to hang out with your friends, but you weren’t able to see anyone in person...

until you got a text from peter

he was literally inviting you over his apartment since he explained that he wasn’t returning home either

you practically rushed to pack a small amount of clothes for a sleepover whilst not forgetting to wear a mask (bc it’s fucking important ok)

you arrived at his address and a big warm hug ensues 

his unit was so tidy and you were convinced he did it to impress you

peter was so happy to see you, acknowledging that you’re also spending a few nights with him

the nights mostly consisted of eating snacks and binge watching movies

however during one of those nights, both of you got a bonus – making out on his couch and further, completely forgetting the television

making out with peter wasn’t awkward at all. most of the time he was the one in control, which you didn’t mind

his hands treated you so gently but the way he teased you made you crave for more than what he was offering

a lot of whining, swearing, and begging – you weren’t aware but he was enjoying it a lot

on his side, he did praise you from time to time, but most of it consisted of raw tension and actions. the room was full of grunts and short breaths 

just want to include how sexy peter would be while he moans all over you. like his whole sunshine personality just drained away the moment he places his hands on either sides of your waist

the next day you felt like a princess even though you know it shouldn’t be???

apparently peter prepared breakfast for you and you felt embarrassed walking around his place only in the shirt you wore yesterday and underwear

just when you thought the extra lunch he packs for you was already amazing, the breakfast he prepared whilst being fresh and hot was just incredible

“you really like it?”

“of course! you really have to teach me to cook sometimes”

peter laughs and jokes, “yeah, don’t worry. i feel like we’ve got a lot of time ahead.”

ok fast forward to a few more days when you were beginning to feel like a freeloader. he lets you borrow a few of his clothes as yours were in the laundry

by the time you wanted to stop by your place, peter started to be more... clingy

at first he didn’t want you to go but after a few more debates, he felt defeated and instead insisted on going with you

eventually you caved and let him. it wasn’t that bad either, he talked to you about a lot of things on the way leaving you entertained the whole walk without realizing how far it had been

he helped you ‘pack’ more stuff so you wouldn’t be going back and forth from his place and yours. you felt like you were going out of town for a month with the amount of clothes and products

both of you returned to his place around late afternoon. you felt pretty tired and didn’t hesitate to pass out on the living room couch

when you woke up you sensed that you were in peter’s bedroom, meaning he carried and tucked you during the night

plus! an arm was wrapped around your midriff and you could feel peter’s breathing against your side

you closed your eyes and appreciated the moment. it was cute and made butterflies flutter around your stomach, and you tried not to move much to not wake him up

anyways apparently the pandemic lasted longer, and more serious, than expected (fuck the government and their incompetency) 

you spent more time with peter and was thankful that you didn’t spend this quarantine alone

within a blink of an eye, a month and a half already had passed. you couldn’t deny that most, or all, days have been unproductive

eat, cook, watch tv, cuddle, fuck, repeatedly get spoiled??? yeah sounds like the dream

weird though because you haven’t completely brought up to peter if you’re actually in a relationship with him. oh no were you just friends with (a lot) of benefits??

but you also felt like it wasn’t the time to bring it up. neither of you were saying anything so it was best to let it be for the fear that things might go downhill from there

anyways this continued for more weeks, especially since the ‘stay-at-home’ policy was deemed necessary

you started to help him do errands around the apartment just to feel like you weren’t an actual freeloader – but it wasn’t a surprise when he kept insisting that you should relax

more cute moments

more sexy times

and more cuddles during night (peter’s grip became tighter every night, but you shrugged it off assuming that it was just you getting homesick and overthinking)

ok but when you brought up being homesick and mentioned that you planned peter wasn’t entirely happy about it

the way he acted wasn’t just clingy. he insisted that he’d be the one to go and that you were staying

“ok but i’m not a dog, peter?” “i know, honey, but it’s too dangerous outside. i wouldn’t want you to be at risk.” “i wear a mask?? i follow health protocols?? i’ll be fine??” “you don’t understand–”

oh god he was becoming controlling

you tried not to argue anymore, rather ignoring and pushing past him to proceed to the door

and peter instinctively wrapped an arm around your waist and prevented you from walking further

there was a lot of struggling, but you didn’t know he was this strong. literally what the hell.

you tried to scream too but he pretty much threatened you to your core

“let’s talk this out,” he grunts as he secures his grip around you

“the hell? let me go!”

things got more complicated. he did convince you to talk with him (by means of tying your arms and legs to incapacitate you from running and righting)

it was a nightmare. he was really soft and sweet with you, even getting teary eyed after stating, “i only want what’s best for you... for us”

however you could sense the manipulativeness through it despite being making everything else look convincing

“trust me, sweetie, i wouldn’t want to hurt you. it would crush me” “please don’t cry. i’m only protecting you” “people are disgusting, they don’t deserve an angel like you” “don’t worry, i can protect you”

it terrified you to your nerves, sending shivers across your spine

at first you didn’t realize it, but eventually after days of being trapped, you figured he had been grooming you the whole time

he tried to make you dependent of him and somehow he did a fine job. just not enough to completely exploit you

though, it made you question what would have been better in your situation: being conscious of his sly nature with the hope of escaping or being unaware and completely wrapped around his finger whereas letting him continue how greatly he had been caring for you?

#dark!peter parker #dark!peter parker headcanon #dark!peter parker x reader #dark!peter parker imagine #dark!peter parker smut #dark!peter #dark peter parker #dark peter parker imagine #dark peter parker smut #dark!peter x reader #dark peter parker x reader #peter parker imagine #peter parker smut #peter parker headcanon #spiderman imagine #spiderman smut #spiderman headcanon #spiderman x reader #tom holland x reader #tom holland imagine #tom holland smut

[twinklelilstarkey]

Roommates (Pt. 1) - Jamie Oleksiak

Words: 4.4k+

Type: ANGST

Summary: After many years of being best friends with Jamie, you’ve grown tired of hiding your true feelings and fearing the end of your friendship.

Warnings: Female!Reader. Mentions of sex while intoxicated (consensual). Age gap. Sad, sad reader.

Jamie Oleksiak. The name of your best friend and the defenseman of the team Dallas Stars. As well as your roommate for the past few years.

You two met at a bar a few years back. He was playing for the Penguins at the time, and you were in college. 

You weren’t a big fan of hockey at the time, so you actually needed the help of a friend to know his name in the first place. Something, he found funny for some reason, while you, just felt deeply embarrassed.

It’s no secret that you two had sex that night. You two were equally tipsy, which did make everything seem easier and more fluid, in a way. Yet you never forgot the night.

Not only was it the beginning of an amazing friendship, it was also the best night of your life.

It took you two a few weeks to reconnect again and have your share of laughs. Your humor helped you out with him liking to hang out with you more and more each day. As well as the fact that it never seemed like you were interested in anything else but a conversation and company for lunch or periods in between classes.

You were just different, in a way.

Years went by and he was traded back to Dallas.

By the time it happened, you two were still heavily attached and, also, calling each other best friends. And yes, you had to be the first one to call him that.

You had finished your degree at that time and Jamie took that as a good reason to try and make you move in with him to Dallas. You were shocked, to say the least. You had just gotten used to living in Pittsburgh and now he wanted you to go with him to a whole different place.

It took a lot of pleading and being way too annoying for you to say yes, but he got you to do it. It was easy after he mentioned that you could live with him in the center of the city, where everything is, and also that he will pay for most of the rent. What can you say? You’re a simple girl.

And who says ‘no’ to free things?

Oh, and why most of the rent and not all? Because you felt bad at one point (that point being: one week in) and made a whole tantrum until he allowed you to pay a small percentage of the large rent.

Being best friends with Oleksiak got you a lot of things. Got you happiness (which can be discussed). Got you to like sports, especially hockey - which surprised your family since they had been trying to make you like it for years.

Got you Instagram followers. Since you know, that’s the most important thing of this whole friendship (*sarcasm*). Which, by the way, did made you more active on social media and be Big Rig’s fans’ personal provider of content.

Got you to live in a beautiful city with him. But most importantly: It got you to fall in love with him.

You first realized you were falling in love with Jamie back when you were in his old apartment. You had just woken up from a big party, with a big headache and his large arm over your waist.

It was early in the morning and the sun was starting to rise. Jamie was sleeping next to you, with his back to the windows, protecting himself from the harsh lighting. You looked back at him and his peaceful look as he slept silently next to you. You turned and laid your head back on his pillow, admiring his face. You were bold enough to bring your hand up to his face, and smoothly running your thumb over his cheek as you cupped it.

You could kill to have that every morning. To have him quiet and leaning into your touch unconsciously like it was your morning routine. Welcoming your hold as if it was his safe haven when he needed someone.

And even though all of those things already were true and present in your day-to-day life, it was never how you liked it. Always in a friendly-loving type of touch. Never a whole another loving type of way.

And that’s when you got it. You were falling in love.

Those feelings got stronger and stronger with each day that passed, and Jamie... Well, he’s completely oblivious to it all.

Your friends tease you about it. Always saying stuff like “close your mouth, you’re drooling” when in games or other innocent things like that.

They imagine your stares and glances as just a possible small crush, or that it was your way of looking out for your introverted friend. Never that you were staring at the man you’ve completely fallen in love with.

Nobody knows how you feel. Nobody. Except for you and your overthinking mind.

God, you don’t know how many times you cried over him. All when he was just a few doors away from you as you laid in bed. Or how many times you tried to be independent and look for love in another man, but always ending up disappointed, heartbroken, and unsatisfied.

You had and still have to see him bring girls home late at night, sometimes even talk to some in the morning while he sleeps. Fake being happy for him when he gets a new girlfriend and falls in love with her. Fake liking his girlfriend and act as if she’s exactly who you’d love to see in his life.

Yes, maybe you were being an awful friend, but your feelings were too much for you to just ignore them and not let them affect you.

You’re starting to grow tired with all of this.

“Hey, how was practice?” You ask Jamie right as you walk in the kitchen, not expecting to see him standing there on his phone.

“Good.” He answers, obviously distracted.

You don’t care enough to tease him over the short answer like you always do, so you just walk over to the fridge to get your water bottle. 

You just woke up, your eyes feel swollen from crying last night and, god, you feel dehydrated.

Jamie brought a girl home yesterday after the game, right when you were supposedly asleep. You heard them walking down the hallway, him shushing her as she giggled away.

You weren’t all that affected until you met her in the kitchen at 4am. And she had the audacity to be nice. She knew you were the roommate, so she wasn’t shocked when she saw you. But you were to see her.

You had just finished binge-watching a show, and she, well, she had stopped at least moaning an hour before.

You adjust the hood of your hoodie to try and hide your face and eyes from any morning light, and of course, a particular pair of eyes. Jamie leans back on the counter, putting his phone back on his pocket, eyes completely on you, now.

“What’s wrong with you?” He teases, smile prominent on his tone.

“Nothing.” You answer, head still low on the ground.

You put your water down and you scrub your face with your hands, harshly trying to wake yourself up to the day that you still have to experience.

It’s god damn 12pm.

Jamie leans back a little on the counter and takes a look at your face. God, you look sad. Your eyes are puffy and your lips are slightly swollen, just like under your eyes. You, for sure, had been crying.

“What happened?” He asks, concerned.

You look up at him to already find him staring. You plaster one of your usual fake smiles over your lips and shake your head.

“Nothing, dummy. I’m just tired” You say with a completely different tone than before.

“Don’t lie.”

“I’m not.” You reassure, shoving your hands on the front pocket of the hoodie you’re wearing, his hoodie.

He looks at you worried and you smile more wide, walking close to him and wrapping your arms around him. You rest your head over his chest and he hugs you back right away.

“I’m okay.” You whisper.

You close your eyes as you feel him squeeze you close to him and try your best to enjoy the moment. Not that you don’t get a lot of hugs from the giant man, but these ones are different. They’re the comforting ones. The ones that almost make you, not only cry all over again but also, be in a better mood in a few more hours.

You blink your tears away and try to pull away from him, but he doesn’t let you. You look up and he’s staring back.

“Can I go take my shower, now?” You ask him with a playful tone.

“Nop.” He says, squeezing you back to his chest, “Not until you tell me what’s wrong.”

“Nothing’s wrong.” You say with a small chuckle.

“Stop lyiiing!” He sings the words and you smile a little.

He kisses the top of your head and you sigh.

“I’m tired. I didn’t sleep at all, tonight,” You tell him and he lets go of you for a bit, “Can I please go now?”

“Why didn’t you sleep?”

You shrug, stepping back.

“I saw a horror movie.” You lie and you know right away that he didn’t believe you. “I’m serious.”

“You’re lying!”

“I’m not!”

“You. Are.” He says with a playful tone, definitely not wanting to start an argument since you’re not in the best mood.

You sigh and turn around, walking over to your room before he could even reach to hold you back and make you talk.

(...)

Jamie expected you to be in a better mood after you showered, but that did not happen. You took your shower, walked to the kitchen to get something small to eat, and closed yourself back up in your bedroom.

He thought about going over to your room to talk to you but he hesitated when he realized that he didn’t even know what to say or ask. 

So, he stayed in the living room, playing video games while giving you some time. As well as promising himself that if you don’t walk out in an hour, he’ll go in to check if you’re still alive and haven’t turned into a zombie.

You scroll through your social media on your phone. You watch everyone’s Instagram story with a serious look on your face, some of them just make you grin slightly at their contagious laughter or bad jokes, but most are just boring.

You slide off the app and click on your gallery. You scroll to the top and a grin appears on your face as the memories all hit you at once. You scroll and stop midway, where most of your videos are.

You click on one specifically and stare down at it.

It was a short video of you in the kitchen playing around and singing along to a song. You smile at your dramatic dancing and pointing towards an off-screen Jamie, and you turn up the volume.

You were singing along to the lyrics of the sappy breakup song while pointing at Jamie, as if you were dedicating the whole performance to him.

You stop dancing for some seconds, panting, and you hear Jamie laughing loudly off-screen over how tired you were.

“You danced for like 30 seconds!” He exclaims and you glare at him.

“Fuck off.” You curse.

He laughs again and you smile before walking back to your phone to stop recording and change the music.

You swipe for the next video and it’s another whole performance, but this time Jamie was on the screen, just in the corner.

You smile as you scream the lyrics and laugh like a maniac at his expression of complete terror. The video ends with you randomly hugging him as you laugh, which meant that you cut the rest, for some reason. You swipe again and the videos of that day ended there. 

You look through more videos and you find some others that are just as funny, and others just completely random. Like the one where it’s just 5 seconds of you zooming in on Jamie washing his teeth in the bathroom while you’re laying on his bed.

Things only drunk you understands when doing them.

You go through all of the random ones and find some with your friends. Most of you all drunk in a club screaming “Happy new year” before everyone starts kissing one another. 

A knock on your door makes you look up and Jamie peeks in.

“Can I come in?” He asks and you nod.

You continue laid on your bed and Jamie lays beside you.

“What have you been doing in here all day?” He asks and you look over as he also looks down at your phone.

“Not much.” You say with a shrug, “Just scrolled through social media, and now I’m watching old videos”

“Of...?”

“Nothing in particular, even though most of my stuff is me annoying you.” You say and he smiles.

He takes your phone from your hands and you let him, grabbing your pillow so you can rest your head over something that isn’t your fist or arm.

He clicks some random video and you see that it’s the one you were smiling at not too long ago. He smiles as he sees you do your whole performance and scrolls down for more.

You stay like that for some time and you sigh.

“I’ve been thinking-” You start and he nods.

“That’s good.”

You chuckle under your breath and continue.

“I think I should move out.” You admit, ignoring the small pain building up in your chest.

Jamie looks up from your phone and gives you a look, scowling in what looks like pure confusion.

“What? Why?” He asks defensively.

You shrug before answering, “I just feel, like, we don’t have a reason to live together anymore.”

He blinks at you, not getting it, and you sigh.

“Jamie, we started living together so we could hang out more. We almost don’t even have time to hang out together.” You tell him and he’s still scowling. “You have practice every morning. I work all afternoon. You have games when I get out of work and when you get here after games, it’s not exactly... appropriate... for us to hang out”

“What do you mean?”

“Yo-you always have girls with you.” You explain.

“Ooooh, are you jealous?” He asks with a small smile, his hard expression breaking.

Oh, God.

“I’m serious.”

“I know, but what you’re saying is ridiculous. We hang out every day I have off, always have lunch together and I even let you sleep in my bed on Sundays.”

You roll your eyes and look away, turning on the bed to stare at the ceiling. He’s not lying. You two do spend time together, but, god damn, you need to complain about something for you to be able to get out of this... situation.

“We would hang out just as much if I had my own apartment.” You spit and he locks your phone.

“Is that really your reason?” He asks and you nod, “I don’t believe you.”

“I just... forget it” You sigh.

You sit up and a familiar weight starts resting over your shoulders and chest, it’s like if guilt and heartbreak had a love child. That’s how you’ve been feeling for the past few months. And it’s just awful.

“No, don’t get upset on me, now. Just explain what’s wrong” He says, pulling you to lay down again next to him.

You stare at him for a second and you take a deep breath.

“It’s personal things, Jamie. I just feel like we both could use some privacy, you know?” You ask.

“Personal things...?” He questions, more to himself than anyone else.

“It’s stupid, just forget it.” You repeat, looking away, “You won’t get it, we can talk about this in another time.”

He stays quiet for a bit.

“Do you really want to move out that bad?” He asks, his tone is different, softer, worried too.

You shrug. You don’t want to do it, but you can’t help but think that this is what’s best for you. After so many years of fighting your feelings for him and having them double each day over having to see him every day, is just frustrating.

You need your own space and your own time.

At least somewhere you can cry over heartbreak and not have to worry about the person behind it walking in your room.

“Since when have you been feeling like this?” He asks, breaking your train your thought. “About... moving out?”

“A few months.” You admit.

He stays quiet and you continue to eye the wall intensely, while at the same time have Jamie stare sadly at you.

It’s not every day your best friend says that she wants to move out of your home.

“Is there anything I can do to make you stay?” He asks, feeling helpless.

You think for a second.

“I’m afraid you can’t.”

You sniffle quickly and let out a loud sigh. You’re battling every emotion in you but for an outsider, you just look frustrated. Not sad.

Jamie continues to stare silently and you feel his eyes on you. Your heart is breaking at his silence, and it’s painful. Yet you don’t know what else to do.

You’ve felt like you’ve done everything you could, and this... this is just what you’re left with. This and your unconfessed feelings.

“Are you still planning on staying in Dallas?” He asks, breaking the heart-wrenching silence.

“Yeah,” You say, blinking some tears away, “Of course, I am. Or at least close. I might have to move out of the city and stay in the suburbs, but-”

“Why?”

“I’m not that well paid, Jamie.” You say in an amused tone.

“I can he-”

“No.” You say quickly, staring at him.

Your eyes are almost pleading for him to not do anything of the sort, not pay for rent or even be responsible over anything of yours.

If you want to start fresh, you can’t let him do it.

“Why not?”

“I have my own money” You assure. “I’ll be okay on my own.”

You blink some more tears away and he frowns at the sight of them.

“Are you telling me that or telling that to yourself?” He asks you.

“What?”

He doesn’t repeat the question, he just continues to stare at you silently and your urge to cry intensifies.

You’re so used to look at him as your safe haven that breaking down in front of him is just engraved in your brain as something natural. But this time it’s not about work, it’s about him.

“Why are you crying?”

You snap back to reality and bring your hands up to your face, forcefully wiping them.

“It’s...”

Jamie sits up quickly, not letting you move away from him or the conversation, and a small shaky sigh escapes your mouth.

“Talk to me,” He pleads and you breathe in sharply.

You look down at your hands and your heart starts to speed up in your chest. He also looks down at your hands and sees you angrily play with the string of the hoodie you’re wearing.

You want to open your mouth to confess everything, but your emotions get the best of you. Just the thought of how ‘it’s all going to be now’ makes you freeze. 

This could be the moment that will change everything and make him never look at you in the same light.

The moment when your friendship dies. And you can’t let that happen.

Jamie’s hand rests on your shoulder and your body shakes with your cries and he looks at you worryingly. He wraps his arms around you and your face meets the soft fabric of his shirt.

He holds as you cry it out, fear still present in you even though you have already talked yourself out into not saying anything. It’s like it’s permanent now.

“Is this about work?” He asks, trying to guess.

Guess you got to do what you do best: Lie.

(...)

Some would honestly agree that destiny, or whatever you believe in these situations, was on your side, when Jamie, days prior to you leaving the apartment, needs to go on a roadie.

He felt absolutely awful that he wouldn’t be home to help you move out, even offered you to wait until he came back, so he can help. But a ‘it’s fine’ was your answer.

You felt awful. He’s your best friend in the whole world and you were destroying your so ‘healthy’ and loving communication so you could get some peace in return.

“I’m gonna miss you.” You tell him as your voice is muffled by his shirt.

“I’m gonna miss you too.” He says as his arms hold you close to him. “I can still call you like before, right?”

“Of course, you can.” You tell him, in a tone as if you would be stating the obvious.

He’s wearing a suit, ready to get on the team’s bus before departing to whatever state he will be playing in. He smells like his cologne, strong as ever, since it hadn’t been long since you two left home.

You, on the other hand, are wearing an oversized t-shirt and some jeans. Nothing too special. Just good enough to take your best friend to wherever he’s getting a bus to work.

“Hey, Rig! Let’s go!” One of the guys screams from the bus door.

It’s not like he’s holding back anyone from leaving, since there are still staff members dragging piles of equipment in the bus’s trunk. But every player is already making their way up to their seats or is already seated.

“You need to go.” You tell him as you try to pull him away by resting your hands on his torso and pulling yourself off, “You have a big trip ahead of you.”

“I know.” He says before squeezing you closer to him.

You feel him lay some kisses on the top of your head and when you look up at him, he just has a small grin over his face.

“You better pick up every single call, uh?” He threatens and a smile reappears on your face.

“Or what?” You challenge, eyebrows held up as if to wait for his answer with an attitude.

He laughs, yet he doesn’t say anything, he just lifts his gaze from you to the bus. His hands lift from your back and rest on your shoulders, giving them a slight squeeze.

It’s time for him to go.

“I’ll call you tonight, okay?” He asks and you nod.

You two pull away from each other and he leans down to grab his bag. You watch him silently, trying to fight off your emotions that keep on building up whenever he’s about to walk away, and he looks down to give you another look.

“See you at the home game?”

You swallow harshly and nod at him again, a small smile on your face.

The game is 2 weeks away from happening but it will eventually be the end of this roadie. Jamie comes back and stays until the next ‘non-home’ game, which is just a week later, giving you enough time to run through your plan.

You’re not sure if you want to be there. What you’ve planned until now was something over the phone with one of your parents. They offered to help you out and said something along the lines of ‘why don’t come home for a bit?’.

You’re not going to lie, it sounds nice to go home. Maybe take a month or two away from Dallas, away from Jamie.

It’s just that you will miss the home game, or, really, many home games.

You stare as your best friend walks towards the bus and you blink your tears away. He gives his last bag to a worker, who carefully carries it to the trunk, and he takes his first step into the bus.

You inhale sharply, face warming up as your emotions start getting the best of you. The wives, a few feet away from you, are incapable of noticing what’s happening to you, but either way, it could be mistaken just by the ‘goodbye’ for the trip.

You look back up at the bus and see Jamie take his seat by the window, beside one of the guys, you can’t really tell who it is by how tinted the windows are.

His eyes soon find you again and you force your small smile to come back.

Your breathing is sharp and shaky, all because you’re trying to focus on every step of your plan and not on the man that is staring back at you.

All you gotta do is move out, act as if time and distance are pulling you two away, ignore some of his calls... And just let it happen. But, god, why does it hurt so much?

Jamie frowns as you look down at your shoes for a few seconds and his heart clenches as he sees you wipe your tears away, hidden from any of the wives’ eyes.

He eyes you and your head lifts as soon as the bus starts, vibrating under him and loudly signalizing to you that he’s about to leave.

You stare back at him as if in the long lost void, biting your own lips as if to hold back any sobs and eyeing the tinted windows, deep in thought.

You love Jamie. Love him with your whole heart, with your whole being. More than you can even put it into words. But, you can’t just lose him. Not by your confession.

You can’t bear to feel any more hurt, more broken.

The bus soon starts moving and you look through the glass to see Jamie look at you with a worried look. You hide your emotions, once more, with a smile and give him a wave of goodbye.

He waves back and soon enough, the bus leaves, leaving you with nothing but your emotions and self-hate.

Your phone vibrates in your hand and you look down at the screen, tears covering your eyes and making it hard to read. Your urge to break down multiplies by each time a person around you walks away.

Riggy 🥰: I’ll come back before you know it

Am I proud of this? No. 

Do I know how to make it better? No.

Really hope it’s not too shitty. I’ve had this on my drafts for so long, I just had to post it. 

#jamie oleksiak imagine #jamie oleksiak imagines #jamie oleksiak fic #jamie oleksiak x reader #big rig #nhl #nhl imagines #nhl imagine

[its-an-inxp-again]

SP/so vs SO/sx

Not sure how much this can be generalized since it's only my personal experience. When I was a pre-teen my best friend used to be a so/sx 6w7, while I am 9w1 sp/so. Sp dom vs Sp blind... some stuff went down and it’s fascinating to analyze such differences to me (I feel like I'm fascinated by sp blinds in general wtf).

She was the V immature of the pair, throwing herself in any possible weird experience she could have just for the sake of it. She would always cause so much drama it was legit concerning and I always was on the sidelines, not participating and sometimes suggesting her to stop, but did she listen to me? Never, and also, in some ways, I think I did in fact understand her desire to feel alive and feel stuff and do dumb stuff, possibly in that I am sx-blind and I won't fucking allow myself to do that, while she totally did. I guess, I don't usually pay any mind to my sx-blindness but the only time that it kind of felt like I was missing on something was when I would spend time with her? And also now that I'm actually studying the instictual variants I guess I'm starting to realize it (but also not really there's a shit ton of work to do). She would always act as if she was the protagonist of some weird 19th romantic novel but, make it dumber (we were 11-12 after all, how smart could we be?).

I deeply, deeply understand her need and wish to be like a novel protagonist. I do think of myself in that way quite often. But while she did it by acting and getting actively involved in stuff, I’ve always done the same by hyper-interpreting my simpler, more boring experiences (9 basic bitch here, feeling attached to something while being withdrawn and out of touch with your body results in amazing fantasy sky castles). She was never satisfied by this.

If she wanted intensity, she would create it by idk, doing some dumb stuff she would for sure later regret. While she went on to feel so alive, I would stay in the back overthinking my more boring life. An example would be that while she actually acted so that everyone around us hated her and shunned her, I would simply feel and think I was being shunned as well, but in practice I would never do something that would elicit a strong reaction out of others. I basically fantasized about it. As you can tell her being a Social Dominant I guess she got the sx juice she wanted through social stuff (her reputation, going against the social system (social 6s often do that)).

In so many ways, if I were to simplify it, she was a mixture of Dorian Gray and Heathcliff and I was Des Esseintes. She was an edgier version of Dorian Gray, wanting to experience everything but make it dark and painful and tormented (a là Heathcliff), not once holding herself back. Des Esseintes, on the other hand, would also feel like a misfit and a tormented soul but he did so by staying inside his house and hyper-interpreting his experiences to an insane degree, until he basically starts to hallucinate. He barely goes outside of his home and when he does everything seems weird, scary, magical in its own way, and while a bit creepy that’s also part of being sx-blind I think? You secretly want that way of feeling alive via the dark things in life (not sure if my fixes have a part in this as idk other 9s may not relate to this maybe) but also you want to go about it safely (sp) and by not exposing yourself (9), so it becomes like wearing a pair of glasses that adds a layer of poetry and beauty and suffering to an otherwise normal, boring and inane reality (again, 9 fantasy shit). But that’s about it. It’s a magical pair of glasses that at times I feel like I can remove and put on at will when I’m bored and I feel like I want more out of life. Outsourcing sx if you will w/o ever acting on this shit. I relate to Des Esseintes even though he was possibly a sp 4 but whatever I guess...

My old friend, being sp-blind, of course did not feel the same need for “safety” and had nothing to hold her back, really... the 6w7 sp blind brings a lot of energy and a way to never be able to fucking stand still, so yeah... it was so fascinating to see her act that differently from me, but also empathizing with her desire to get MORE out of life and dive into the darker aspects of it. I guess that’s why I sticked with her even when I thought she was being unreasonable and annoyingly melodramatic. Most people would shun her and don’t get her ways and while I can’t say that I got her, I would at least sympathise with her wish to experience more and be dramatic, even if I couldn’t quite elaborate it at the time and I superficially thought she was being too immature (this is so funny, we were fucking 10 and we were already doing instictual stuff with me acting like the adult one idk. Also w1 may play a part in this shit. Me being sp dom felt like I was supposed to check on her but also I didn't really do it because it was fun to tag along with her dumb stuff). But while she had the courage(?) to act on such a wish, I did not - I never had it, and instead compensated by having an hyperactive mental landscape...

There was a Wilde’s quote that went like, “the artist always represents what they themselves cannot live and experience”, or whatever, and I’ve always related to it way too deeply, lmao. I would represent, think, imagine, write the stories, and instead she would actively live them. Also Wilde was a so/sx so I guess that means something

While I may be bitter, because even as a sx-blind I at times feel....... like I want to live and get involved in stuff more? also I guess 9s have a way to dissociate with their life quite easily so that doesn't help (a sx-blind 7 would probably feel like they're getting involved more). Plus possibly having a 5fix makes it worse? it kind of sucks tbfh. Like it feels I've been dissociated since I was 4 yo and never got back to actual earth wtf. 95x sp/so may be the most fucking boring thing on earth + it may bring a neurotic need to keep your little bubble untouched by real life and finding security in that bubble, to the point that you're actually missing out. Idk. I may *do* stuff to make me feel like I'm going around with people more but it doesn't really affect me that deeply so yeah... fuck all of this. It's not even the same as being stuck in your comfort zone? I guess it is but again I may at times challenge myself in some small ways and have new experiences but it's like nothing really reaches me idk.

Again, I usually prefer to go about stuff safely (aka not disrupting my little bubble too much), and in this way, I’ve always had way less regrets than her - so in this, I’m actually fine with my way of playing it safe. I like letting myself wear that pair of glasses when I feel like it and call it a day. I’ve always been content with very little...

Though honestly I’ve not been hanging out with her in years (at least 8 years, wow) and while I do hear from her I can’t say I can get to see how much she’s changed, lol

It was weird, you’d expect that with such a melodramatic friend the break up would be at least as dramatic, instead it has been quite the opposite - we simply slowly stopped reaching out to each other once we had nothing much in common anymore, and something else going on with our lives, lmao...

Also I mistyped her as a 4w3 in the past but it's so funny I got that little about the enneagram and IVs and somehow got her IV right at first try wtf I guess she's just that obvious

#enneagram #enneagram 5 #enneagram 4 #instinctual variants #so/sx #social instinct #long post #sometimes i say stuff #ennea5 #ennea4 #enneagram 6 #enneagram test #ennea9 #enneagram 9 #ennea6 #ennea 6 #ennea 9 #sp/so

[mbti-notes]

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

what aspect of you has to change to overcome the fear

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

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

#social anxiety #anxiety #fear #emotional intelligence #mental health #ask

[thefanficmonster]

Never Satisfied [Chapter 5]

Corpse Husband x Original Female Character

Warnings: !!DETAILED DESCRIPTION OF A PANIC ATTACK!!; Language

A collaboration between Vy & Ashens 🖤

Note from the authors: Hello dear readers! This chapter, as mentioned in the warnings above, has a detailed description of a panic attack which might be highly triggering for some individuals. That being said this chapter is NOT A MUST-READ. You can understand the further progression of the story perfectly well without reading this chapter. If you decide to skip this chapter, which we recommend if you are easily triggered, we’ll be seeing you in the next chapter. If you’re sticking around for the ride, enjoy 🖤🖤🖤

“headed for a breakdown“

“I’ll catch you later, feel free to text me anytime.” Cora smiles warmly, standing outside Corpse’s apartment complex, where they’ve spent almost half an hour just talking in his car before she finally mentioned she had to get going which led to them both stepping out of the car and into the late afternoon air. At first, Corpse thought it must have been something he had said or did but before the panic could start eating away at his calmness, Cora was quick to reassure him, promising she had a client meeting her in about two hours which is why she needed to get going.

Now he finds himself standing in his apartment, feeling cold and alone. He feels like a huge chunk is missing from his life now, despite that very chunk not even being a part of it just a few hours prior. He allowed Cora to bring him some happiness, relief and ease for those few hours, and now that she’s gone, he realizes how unprepared he is to be dealing with his loneliness again. He’s aware he shouldn’t get this attached to someone he barely knows, or to anyone really, but she made him feel so much, and none of the feelings unpleasant: she allowed him security, safety, comfort; she gave him some of the most genuine laughs of his life, managed to speed up his heart because of excitement and joy, not anxiety or insecurity. She provided him with what he’s been longing for for so long, and she did all that in less than a day.

With all that taken into consideration, one would find him missing her more than reasonable, but Corpse isn’t so easy on himself. Quite the contrary actually, he’s scolding himself for it in this very moment as he paces the living room. 

He shifts from one foot to the other, tipping his head down as he carefully toes off his shoes. He stops in one spot suddenly, feeling himself consumed by the deafening silence, a lump starting to form in his throat as well as tightness building in his jaw. The telling sign. His eyes sting, burning red and painful. His head is swarmed, buzzing statically like a TV on a dead air channel.

I fucked up

I fuck everything up

I am a fuck up

These thoughts begin to cloud his brain with such intensity there is no way of him even having a chance at fighting them or pushing them away. They take firm hold on his brain and refuse to let go. He’s no stranger to them but that doesn’t mean he has any defenses ready for when they show themselves. He’s helpless and hopeless even after all the times he’s had to deal with them though it seems like they get progressively stronger instead of weaker.

This time, they appear the strongest yet.

Tears burn his eyes so he covers one eye with the palm of his hand in a hopeless attempt at keeping them at bay, choking out a soft noise from his throat as everything starts welling up in his heart, causing him excruciating pain in his chest. 

He’s sure he did something wrong. Said the wrong thing. Had the wrong reaction. Messed something up. 

He plays every second back in his mind over and over again, searching between the lines of conversation, skimming through each word they exchanged for something, anything that would indicate that his worries and anxiety are grounded and concrete. His heart is galloping, his mind is going haywire. He doesn’t know what to do with himself, how to defend himself against the raging storm that has taken over his head and the incoming waves of negativity that are for sure to attack him in the horrible, painful minutes to come.

He wants to sit down, lie down, anything just to get off his shaking feet and relieve his knees that are threatening to give up on him any second now. However, he simultaneously wants to punch a wall, a mirror, break something, ruin something as a piece of evidence that he always ruins things for himself and others. That he is exactly what he claims to be - a fuck up.

You aren’t worth it

You aren’t good enough

You are never good enough

People deserve better than you

They don’t want you around

She doesn’t want you

AND IT’S ALL YOUR FAULT

His mind races, spins, betrays him, leaves him to drown in the darkness that is slowly consuming him. The room feels both too big and too small at the same time, suffocating yet he feels so small in comparison to it. His knees finally give, let him down just like his mind has and he drops down to his knees, clutching at his chest. Breaths come at a rapid pace as he starts hyperventilating, wheezing and sobbing with each passing moment, barely able to squeeze enough air into his lungs as to not pass out. He digs his nails into the carpet in desperate attempts to ease the pain or just to keep himself awake and stable, as stable as he could possibly be during a panic attack.

Pity Grief  Loneliness Disgust  Sorrow Dread

His checkpoint isn’t here and the demons in his head are telling him she’ll never be again. Telling him he isn’t worth it, telling him she deserves better and shouldn’t be wasting her time on him anyway. 

He forces himself to his still and even more so unsteady feet, swaying dangerously before finding some weak stability to carry himself to his room to avoid being any more miserable than he already is by lying on the floor. His body doesn’t seem to agree with him though, flashing warning signs at him that he shouldn’t be standing up right now. He ignores all the warnings, the clouded and then vignetted vision, the much harder process of breathing and the retching that is steadily climbing from the pit of his stomach up towards his throat.

All signs telling him this is not a battle he can win.  

                                                               *  *  *

Corpse wakes up on the floor, having dropped before he could reach his bed, vomit beside him. His breathing is shaky, almost as much as his hands. Ignoring the warning signs yet again he pushes himself in a sitting position, causing his head to spin even worse due to the sudden movement which is the last thing he needed in this state the panic attack has left him in.

I blacked out. I can’t even have a panic attack right, He thinks to himself, the toxicity remaining in his mind just to pollute it for the next couple of days or so.

He’s trembling horribly yet he still chooses to not allow himself the rest he so desperately needs and instead gets up onto his feet to clean the mess on the carpet he’ll probably need to buy a stain remover for. His jaw clenches, his shaking hands doing a poor job at making anything better, actually worsening the situation he’s trying to fix. With another fail added to his list of fuck ups, he gives up on the carpet, removing his stained sweatshirt with force and throwing it across the room before he climbs into bed, wrapping the blankets around him like a safety cocoon.

Just as he thinks he’s about to drift off to sleep, his only refuge, his phone chimes, startling him more than it probably should’ve.

Out of instinct, he reaches out and fishes for it among the many items littering his nightstand. Finally feeling the rectangular device under his touch, he retrieves it and checks what the chime is alerting him of.

It’s a text from an unknown number but the message’s content clears up the identity of the sender right away.

Digital Checkpoint activated. Reply to save progress. 💜 — Cora

With minimal contemplation he replies seconds later.

Corpse: save

Cora: your progress has been saved. Thank you for choosing A.S.S. - the Automated Save System. You are now free to activate the digital checkpoint at any time. 

Cora: I had a nice time. Text me whenever you need to. We’ll hang out again soon, deal?

Corpse: thank you

Cora: anytime sugar ;)

Funny how a text exchange so simple and short can turn so much around for a person. Funny how a huge weight lifts off him the second he locks his phone, suddenly finding it easier to breathe, to move, to blink, to function - to live. She gives him that kick he needs to be reminded to live and not just be alive. He’s still not comfortable with how much he’s relying on her but seeing her effect on him is nothing but positive, the most and best thing he can do for himself is go with the flow and let things happen. No overthinking, no planning, no shooting guesses, just facing things as they come face-to-face with him. He may never get used to it, but he won’t know that until he tries, will he?

@fockingwhore  @vixenl  @annshit  @wineandionysus  @wiseflamingoqueen

#corpse husband #corpse #corpse fluff #corpse fanfic #corpse simp #corpse fic #corpse fandom #corpse fanfiction #corpse imagine #corpse imagines #corpse x you #corpse x original character #corpse x oc #corpse husband fanficiton #corpse husband fanfic #corpse husband x reader #corpse husband x y/n #corpse husband fanfiction #corpse husband fluff #corpse husband fic #corpse husband is ruining my life #corpse husband imagine #original female character #original character #fic #fan #fanfic #fanfiction #angst #potentially triggering

[pcos-fighter]

As some may know from my group chat, I am currently in therapy to manage my anxiety and I’ve been learning grounding techniques and the kind of questions to ask myself when I get in one of my moods where I might spiral into an attack or spark it. I slowly have been working through how to manage and my therapist sent me techniques in the Betterhelp app which is how I’ve been going to sessions. The techniques I have started to learn and apply I am finding to actually be helpful when I actively work on them in a moment of panic.

For instance the other day at work I started to feel my heart race and that overwhelming stomach knot I feel when my anxiety spikes. I was in the middle of paperwork and received a text from a dear friend who supported my desire to leave my current job and sent me multiple job postings every few days. But the posts she sent me some of the listings just overwhelmed me and in my head, I began to spiral with thoughts about my abilities to handle those kinds of environments and I could feel myself start to panic a little. So when I walked to the mailbox to get the mail, I did one of the techniques I had read about previously and started to say out loud everything I saw outside to ground myself. I kept my focus on the things around me, naming each tree or car which helped calm me from a full-blown attack.

I am sharing this story because I know with PCOS many of us struggle with anxiety and depression and I know not everyone can afford therapy as it can be very expensive. Shoot I barely can afford it but with the app Betterhelp, it's a lot more affordable than other avenues so I make it work. This is why I am writing this post to share a few grounding techniques so that any of you who struggle with anxiety can have a tool that will help ease at the moment. Now it's not a cure-all so some may work better than others, but at least it can help (as a few help me) to ground you when your anxiety gets high.

There are seven ways you can ground yourself so take what works for you the best and use it to overcome those moments.

1. The Grounding Chair

The first step in this technique is to sit in a comfortable chair where your feet touch the ground. Close your eyes and breath in slowly to the count of three and then out slowly. Bring your mind's focus to the rest of your body in the chair. How does it feel? Scoot your bum right into the back of the seat so that the whole length of your back is pressing into the back of the chair. Can you feel the contact of the chair against your body?

If the chair has arms, touch it, is the material smooth or textured? Press your arms down the length of the chair's arm, notice how your hands hang off the end.

If your chair doesn't have arms, touch the material of the seat, how does it feel?

Next push your feet into the ground, imagine that energy drain down from your mind, flow down through your body, and out through your feet into the ground. As that energy drains from your head, feel how heavy each body part becomes, your torso feels heavy, and now your arms as you relax your muscles. Lastly, feel the heaviness go down your legs through your feet and down into the ground.

2. The 5-4-3-2-1 Grounding Technique

This technique uses all five of your senses to help get you back to the present. It starts with you sitting comfortably, close your eyes and take a couple of deep breathes. In your nose (count to three) then out your mouth (to the count of three). Now open your eyes and look around you. Name out loud five things you can see, you can look within the room and out the window. Name four things you can feel, (such as the silkiness of your skin, the texture of the chair you're in, or what your hair feels like.) What is in front of you that you can touch? Name three things you can hear, (traffic noise, birds outside, noises in the room you're in.) What noises do you hear? Name two things you can smell. Do you have something scented nearby or in the area that you can walk to? Name one thing you can taste, (it might be a good idea to keep a piece of chocolate or mint handy in case you are doing this grounding exercise.) You can always leave the chair in this exercise and taste whatever it is you have chosen with a small bite. Let it swill around your mouth for a couple of seconds, letting it really savor the flavor. Take a deep breath to end.

(This one works a bit better for me personally.)

3. Hold Something and Really Focus On It

Hold an object in your hand and really bring your full focus to it. Look where shadows may fall on parts of it or is there something about it that is textured? Or are there color variants in it or on it? Feel the weight of it, is it heavy or light? What textures do your hands feel while holding it? Is it rough or smooth? This can be done with any object you have lying around or if you know you are going into a stressful situation, take one of your favorite small objects and put it in your pocket so you can do this calming exercise on the go.

4. Distract Yourself

There are several ways to distract your mind so it stops thinking about whatever it is that is worrying you and focuses on something that isn't emotionally driven.

You can pick a color in the room you are in. How many things in different shades of that color can you see around you? How about out the window? Still feeling stressed? Pick another color.

Count backward by 7, starting at 100. It isn't easy and requires you to concentrate.

Or my personal one I use sometimes is having some friends send me pictures of cats on the internet or their cats and it stops me in my worst spirals. (Mostly cause I love cats.) But if you have a creature you love look them up. Or watch a video with them in it. Whatever works to pull you out of that spiral find that image online or video.

5. Draw Around Your Foot In Your Mind

Place your feet on the ground and in your imagination pick your favorite color to draw an outline around each foot. Start at the heel and using your imaginary pencil slowly go up on the side of your foot to your pinky toe and then around each toe then back to your heel. Repeat on the other foot.

Another way you can focus on your feet in a stressful moment is just wiggle your toes inside your shoe. Pay attention to the sensation as you move to separate each toe. Do some move independently of the others? Tense your whole foot then stretch it out. Now do the other foot.

6. Let Your Thoughts Come and Go

So this one is simple in that most of us with PCOS constantly have our minds overthink and wander. Personally, I know when my mind lingers on the parts I can't control or can't fully change my anxiety spikes and it just spirals till I have a panic attack because I don't stop myself and observe my thoughts. And I am learning in therapy that part of this is all due to cognitive distortion and the challenge to overcome those thoughts is to really think about what those thoughts do to my feelings and then my behavior.

This technique requires you to watch your thoughts for a minute. Imagine leaves floating on the surface of a stream. For each thought that comes to mind allow that thought to take its place on a leaf and watch it blow away in the wind. Or allow them to change into a fish and watch it float down the stream. Allow those thoughts to come and go, you don't need to respond to them.

In this case, you don't have to challenge these thoughts at the moment your anxiety spikes but down the line start to challenge them.

7. Get Your Adrenaline-Fueled Energy Out

If for whatever nothing works at first because your adrenaline is spiked your best bet to kick start the calming down process is to do something physical first to get that pent-up energy out. Go for a run if you can, a brisk walk if you aren't as conditioned to run or hate running, or clean a room like the kitchen, the house, or even outside if you have a yard. Dance around your room or house while listening to loud music. (I do this often, even on car drives for my daily commute and it helps me.) When you're physically spent you can try to return to the grounding techniques above to calm down your mind.

I hope this helps some of you in some form through those moments. I know in the past there are a couple I have applied without knowing these in full as grounding techniques and I am grateful to have a therapist who sent me this information as some others I have started to apply.

Living with PCOS isn't easy and managing anxiety isn't easy either. But hopefully, this helps those of you who struggle to find healthy ways to ground yourself so those overwhelming thoughts don't get the best of you. Take care cysters. You know I care about each one of you even if I am not a frequent poster.

All this information can be found on Dr. Sarah Allen's website.

#pcosjourney #pcoscysters #pcos awareness #polycystic ovary syndrome (pcos) #7 grounding techniques #managing anxiety

[beclynn-herondale]

hi! ❤ hope you are well, i'm so happy to know you liked my last robert analysis. it feels very safe and nice to write about him to you, so it makes me really glad that you're enjoying too. forgive me, it took me a while to write this one!

between the points you mentioned, what you said you think about his trauma got my attention first. what you think is right, and i thought it would be a good idea to help you with your conclusions if i explained robert's trauma in details.

to examine it closely, i separate robert's childhood trauma into three parts. i guess we could say he had three different childhood traumas. you probably remember it generally: rune experience, parents, and discrimination. each one was deeply connected to the others but had a different effect in some ways.

1- rune experience: it's kinda hard to people to understand what happened because its horribleness was complex. i'll try to summarize. it was robert's 12th birthday. first of all, robert was being burned alive non-stop. he wasn't having his flesh burned, he was something like "burning inside." how intense the pain was: it consumed his entire being, he lost the ability to think, the pain blocked any thought or memory he could have, so robert didn't know who he was, where he was or what was happening, because all his body/mind/soul were processing was the extreme pain. it was mortal pain, it was supposed to kill robert, he was supposed to die consumed but the burning pain. but it didn't. somehow, while he hadn't the ability to think or feel anything but pain, he had strenght to stay alive in pain instead of die. he was enduring something people shouldn't be able to survive to. in his state where his sould/mind was enduring differently of his body, there were demons, and they tortured robert physically and verbally. then, his family members appeared to him, basically saying he was worthless and should die. he really was supposed to be dead by then, and he could see it, he literally could see hell right waiting for him to finally expire. but it didn't happen. somehow he endured it. now, all of this, lasted one entire month. it's actually hard to imagine someone somehow enduring this for one entire month. i don't think any other character had to endure something like this, except maybe annabel. it's the worse i ever saw happen to a tsc character, it was an entire month. (it's very depressing how nobody could ever understand robert cuz no one else around survived something like this. annabel was tortured, buried alive and then painfully ressurrected, and went literally insane because of it.)

this had multiple consequences to robert. physically, he took a while to recover, but then it was stated his body was fine. the effects were mostly mental. after receiving his first rune, robert was supposed to continue his training, but he couldn't. other kids of his age were evolving their training, while he was doing nothing about it. he both hadn't the energy and couldn't do it, cuz he was afraid of steeles. something perfectly logical since a steele caused that month of agony. you know he eventually managed to learn to use steeles to be an actual shadowhunter. but it wasn't all.

the first rune is something normal that happens to all shadowhunters, and it's mostly something good. the way it was horrible to robert in a way no one could have expected, made robert develop extreme anxiety; because the worst happened to him triggered by something common. so while doing common things, robert would be always scared and anxious, thinking about the worst of the worst that could happen. while it wasn't much notable to other people, it harmed his development and behavior a lot, consequently harming his self-steem, cuz he couldn't do things right, he was always worried and overthinking everything.

to compensate it, robert became somebody who worked on two extremes: he was always overthinking everything, except in battle. in battle he wasn't what we define as brave i guess. he was fearless. valentine is the one who helped robert to achieve that. (we know his actual motivations, this isn't important now) the mental process valentine taught him was: robert's inherent fear and anxiety made him fail, and that made him despise himself (that's something robert does a lot for countless reasons). robert should not only embrace the fury he felt against himself, but it should dominate him, and he use its intensity to block his fear. then basically, robert should do a mental form of self harm, letting the strenght of his hate for himself take his mind and use this strenght to control his actions. robert's fury leading his actions, not his fear and anxiety. as expected with this process, robert then was able to engage in normal shadowhunter activities, but fearless when it came to physical risk. logically this would be very dangerous, but we can imagine how useful it was for valentine to have on his team a warrior like this who was such a big and strong man and centainly could take a lot of physical damage and pain (and i guess it shouldn't be any doubt that being so tough helped robert a lot to survive through the years). we know it was because of this robert felt he owed loyalty to valentine.

2- parents: first, something kinda interesting is that robert had other relatives and they were there when robert's first rune was made. we are informed that his state during that month of agony was a scandal and robert's parents were the ones being absurd. so we can assume his other relatives had nothing to do with it. another strong evidence is robert naming two of his children with names from his family, what indicates he didn't saw his entire family negatively. now his parents... let's never forget what happened to robert was supposed to kill him on incredible intense pain. andrew and phoebe deliberately let their child to die in pain so he wouldn't be a mundane. i personally classify them between the worst shadowhunters parents along with céline's, annabel's, valentine and tatiana.

after robert woke up, they (or anyone else) never cared to ask robert how he felt. all they wanted was to make everything seem normal, without caring about how robert was taking it. they never showed any regret about what they've done: they did the opposite of that, telling robert right on his face what they did and how they were sure that it was totally worth it to make him go through that to not be a mundane. it hurt (and traumatized) robert a lot.

love from parents and relatives is supposed to be the first love someone gets. and robert didn't have that. if his parents showed love to him on his first years alive, it never mattered because these two traumas mentioned made robert forget anything about his parents from before his first rune. he couldn't ever remember them as actual parental figures of love. the only parents he remembered and recognized were the ones who left him to endure that, looked proud of it and never cared about its effects on him afterwards. as far as it counted, robert lived a loveless childhood. as i mentioned, andrew and phoebe wanted everything to be as normal possible, so they just acted as robert's parents as if anything happened, but it was pointless and felt cold. after knowing what they did to him (what they let happen to him), knowing that they didn't actually love him as their child, robert couldn't have a bond with them, he couldn't even be comfortable around them. it's described that their presence was what intensified robert's loneliness the most. so he didn't spend much time around them, he stayed in his room.

without his parents' love, robert's first experience with love was when he was 13 years old, with michael. it was setting a standard of love to him, with the long-term consequences afterwards being devastating. (i guess someone could even connect robert not recognizing his parents affection with his future performance of fatherhood, but that would be mostly guessing and i rather work with things i can prove. another good guess i think would be connecting his loveless childhood to how robert during his teenagehood had messy limits between his love for michael and his affection for maryse and didn't know how to handle or recognize it. i mean mostly things like, if michael was robert's best friend/parabatai and maryse his romantic partner and probably future wife, why did robert see maryse and women in general as a threat to michael's place in his life and their parabatai and best friend relationship? he saw valentine having a parabatai he loved and a girlfriend he wanted to get married to, and still freaked out about a woman as his wife replacing michael who was his parabatai, what didn't make any sense. i know people joke about robert being "clueless" about michael but it isn't much funny with this context. finally, another guess would be connecting robert's discovery that his parents' love for him was faulty through they letting him hurt to his beliefs that what he did to michael proved his love for michael was faulty. you can deliberate about all of these conjectures if you want).

3- discrimination: before his first rune, robert had other kids to play with, but he wouldn't remember much of it. yeah, we can say robert doesn't remember anything about how he was treated by people before his first rune. robert doesn't know a life without trauma.

since what happened to robert was a political scandal, with everyone trying to save robert and his parents wanting him to keep his painful and mortal rune, what happened to him was kind of general knowledge. then, no kid wanted to play or train with him. at first he was still recovering, but then he couldn't move foward because he didn't have anyone. he didn't want to be around his parents' coldness and no one else wanted to be around him, quite literally. other people would be around him only when being forced, and then would stay the most distant of him possible, to never get physically close of him, as if to not catch a disease. this is absolutely dreadful to a child.

being treated like this hurt and traumatized robert terribly. being around any one was horrible, so he spent most of the time hidden in his room. not being able to improve on anything because of his fears and anxiety and not having anyone to train with or even to socialize with, and basically never being able to move on about what happened, robert hated to be alive and wished to be dead, wished the rune had killed him as it should have, because he thought no death could be worse than his life, so be dead would be better. this state of mind dured an entire year before michael came around. a lot of damage had been done by then.

being treated like he was "sick" and ostracized left a huge psychological wound on him. to him, discrimination was one of the worst things ever, for something that was never his fault and he never choose to.

(one may think that if robert hates discrimination, it doesn't make sense to him to dislike downworlders, but it actually does. all robert wanted was to be a normal shadowhunter, and he had deeper reasons than most to be passionate about being one. disliking downworlders would be an ideal average shadowhunter thing to do. but robert was far from ignorant. he didn't think downworlders were animals or demons and was far more inclined to defend downworlder segregation than downworlder extermination. of course segregation is something horrible in general and should never be defended, but with downworlders being different sub-species, it wasn't as absurd as the extermination valentine defended, and robert being actually smart and open minded, we know he actually changed his beliefs).

now, to him, one being discriminated by their peers was one of the worst things that could happen, and the perspective of being discriminated terrified and triggered robert deeply. we know the perspective of homosexuality freaks robert out because of the discrimination, marginalization and "anormality" experience that comes with it (and robert is a 60s kid and shadowhunter society is a conservative mess, so it would naturally seem so much more taboo to him), what scared him deeply. we see him getting extremely anxious over himself, michael and alec about the perspective of homophobic discrimination.

robert only started training with runes after his 14th birthday. his training was late, and between his 12th and 14th birthdays, half of the time was extremely traumatizing, the other half he spent most with michael (who helped him a lot about everything). but still, it was a very big share of his childhood-teenagehood and he didn't have the feeling or normality. everything i said about his anxiety over shadowhunting, specially over runes, applied intensely during his entire teenagehood, but robert went to the academy with michael where he was having normal training and final got to socialize a little. he loved so much to feel a little normal. he still felt like a weak and useless trash, but at least he was doing normal shadowhunting things and living like a teenager. the problem was: he wanted to live his entire teenagehood, and he just couldn't do that. training is supposed to end when shadowhunters are 18 years old. robert would stay at the academy until he was 19, and still didn't seem enough. while he was older than his fellows, he felt far less mature. much of his development time had been lost, and he would never get it back. in this context, it made very sense to robert's girlfriend be a younger girl and his admiration for a younger boy (valentine), and there were jokes about him being old, but what bothered robert the most was that he should soon live an adult man average life with wife and kids, when his perspective of life was being with michael in the academy. we also know how that went... and he married maryse when he was about 21/22 years old and maryse about 19.

forgive me for any grammar mistakes. i think this summary can help a lot! at least i hope it's useful to you or anyone else who read it! writing it was very thoughtful (and it's really a huge joy for me to explain things about robert, if you haven't guessed) and i hope to start working on my next ask soon

xoxo, take care of yourself, kind fellow ☺ thank you for your attention

First of all,. I'm sorry for getting to this late.

Second, I don't think I need to add anything. This is written very well, and gave me a deeper understanding.

And I am once again saying: let Shadowhunters get help with their trauma 😭

Also, TSC has a lot of bad parents. But it sadly represents real life 😔

Thank you for taking the time to write this out. I enjoyed reading it. And I agree with a lot that was said.

#robert lightwood #tsc asks #beau peeps 💛🧡