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wrenhyperfixates · 5 years ago

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Arachnophobia

Pairing: Loki x reader Summary: Living in the Tower surrounded by superheroes can make you think your own fears don’t matter. Luckily, Loki is there to save you, both from yourself and the spiders invading your room. Warnings: one very disgusting run-in with a spider; fluff A/N: Shoutout to that one very weird looking spider in my backyard that inspired this.

“Aaaaaahhhhh!”

Peter was walking by your room when you screamed. He burst through the door, ready to web up whoever was attacking you.

“Where’s the bad guy, (y/n)?” he questioned frantically.

You pointed toward the wall opposite the bed you were standing on. He turned and quizzically raised an eyebrow. Finally, he saw the spider and walked over to it. He put his finger out and it crawled onto him. “You mean this little guy?” he chuckled. “But it’s so cute.”

“No. No, it most definitely is not,” you quickly countered. “And it’s, like, the fifth one this week. Please, just take it out of here.”

Peter shrugged and waved goodbye, walking out with the spider. You would have preferred he killed it, but you weren’t going to ask him to do that. He was Spiderman, after all. You were glad it was him who rescued you, though. Truth is, you were embarrassed of how terrified spiders made you. You would have been mortified if Tony or Nat or Thor walked in on you. And oh god, if it had been Loki you might have died. You didn’t want to appear weak or helpless to your crush. He teases you all the time as it is; you didn’t need to give him any more ammunition. Thankfully, he and most of the team were out, and you were able to avoid any questions. You hoped that that would be the last spider you saw for a while.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

One sleepless week later, you were about to cave and ask for help. The spider sightings were, unfortunately, becoming more frequent. You’d started having nightmares about spiders crawling all over your skin, leaving you with a disturbing tingly sensation when you woke up. If that wasn’t enough to keep you up at night, that old urban legend about swallowing eight spiders in your sleep each year kept finding it’s way to the forefront of your mind.

Determined to get some sleep, you made your way to one of the Tower’s numerous common areas. So far, the spiders were only in your room, but you hadn’t mentioned the problem to anyone yet. You spread the cozy blanket from your bed over yourself and got comfortable on the plushy couch. You’d brought a book too, just to have an excuse for why you were sleeping on the couch in case of a run-in with one of the team’s resident insomniacs.Not that you had to worry about that. You were so tired that you were out cold the second your head hit the cushion.

What could have been hours but felt like minutes later, you were awoken by a very familiar prickly sensation on your arm. Assuming it was just the product of one of your nightmares, you tried to ignore it and go back to sleep. Much to your dismay, the feeling only became more prominent the longer you were awake. Cracking an eye open, you barely managed to stifle a scream. Sure enough, there was a spider crawling up your arm, nearly under your sleeve now. In an adrenaline-induced rush of courage, you brushed it off and smashed it with your book. Unfortunately, the encounter unearthed the deeply repressed memory that was the reason you had arachnophobia in the first place.

You’d only been five years old at the time, but incredibly outgoing and brave for your age. Alone in your family room, you were playing with some dolls while your mom got you a snack. A large black dot on the floor caught your eye, and you walked up to it. You quickly identified the mystery spot as a spider. Some part of your brain told you to wait for your mother to come back, but it seemed dead. You’d figured it would do no harm to make sure, so you decided to squash it. You quickly grabbed your doll and brought its oversized head down on the arachnid. Then disaster struck.

You were rendered a screaming mess as baby spiders came rushing forth from the mother’s body. Your mom ran down in a panic and scooped you up, rushing away from the horrific scene. She quickly brushed any of the tiny arachnids off your small frame and hugged your sobbing body to her chest. After that incident, the house was fumigated, but you were left with a crippling case of arachnophobia. Not to mention you lost your interest in playing with dolls.

It was the strength of that memory, coupled with the fear of the moment, that left you a shaking wreck on the common room’s sofa. As salty tears trailed down your face, you heard a voice call your name, but it was distant as if you were underwater. The person called out to you a few more times, but you were still too shaken to say anything, let alone comprehend who’s voice it was.

They made their way to you in the dark and pressed your mess of a self to their body. A cold hand stroked your arm as their melodic voice whispered in your ear.

“It’s ok. I’m here now, darling,” they said. “Go back to sleep.”

You don’t know if it was from the crying or the sheer terror running through your veins, but somehow you managed to fall back into a dreamless slumber.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The next morning, your mystery hero was gone and hadn’t left the slightest clue as to who they were. Sure, you technically could’ve asked around and figured it out, but you were too ashamed for that. Everyone had their own demons, and you were sure that comparatively yours would be nothing but childish fears. It wasn’t even that you necessarily thought anyone would be mean about it, but your mind always warped your thoughts until you believed your feelings were insignificant. You knew it was a bad way to be, but you couldn’t help it. Thus, you went about your day hoping your savior would reveal themself.

The rest of the day went by in a flash, and you were almost convinced that you’d dreamt the whole thing. No one had dropped any subtle hints that they were your shoulder to cry on, so you decided to make some passing remarks of your own. No one seemed to pick up on them, leaving you more confused than ever. At least you hadn’t seen any more spiders today, so that was good news. You even dared to hope you were done with the problem altogether.

Of course, nothing ever goes your way. You’d just finished your shower and there was another eight-legged menace waiting for you. This time, you weren’t able to stop the shriek from escaping your lips. Throwing on a robe, you walked backwards to where your shoes were, making sure the spider couldn’t run off. Unfortunately, a knock at the door drew your attention away, and when you looked back, the arachnid was nowhere to be found. Great, you thought, now there’s no way I’ll be able to sleep in this room tonight.

“(Y/n) are you alright,” the person at the door questioned, and you immediately recognized the voice as Loki’s. You stayed silent and debated the best course of action. Before you could say anything, he spoke again. “If you don’t respond I will have to come in to make sure you’re ok.”

You finally went over to the door and opened it a crack. “Hi Loki. Don’t worry, I’m fine. Just, uh, slipped a little.”

“I see,” he said, a slight blush crawling up his cheeks when he noticed your attire. Realizing this, you felt your face mirror his.

“Right. Well, thanks. I appreciate it.”

“No problem. You’re quite certain you’re fine? You didn’t injure yourself at all, did you?”

You figured it would be best if you just dealt with the spider on your own. Better than telling the god standing before you, right? You shook your head no, but jumped when you saw a dark spot scurrying across your peripheral vision. Alas, when you turned your head, it was already gone. Maybe you were just paranoid.

“(Y/n) what is it,” Loki said, concern lacing his voice. You tried to assure him you were fine and close the door, but he pushed it open all the way and stepped in. He gave you a stern look and said, “Don’t hide from me. Tell me what the problem is.”

Tears brimmed your eyes and your lower lip started trembling. You were determined to not look like a fool in front of Loki, though, so you put on the bravest face you could muster and once again said you were fine. Then you thought you saw another spider and your weak facade slipped completely. You were now fully crying from the stress of it all.

Loki hesitated a moment before capturing you in a gentle embrace. In a fit of embarrassment, you tried to pull away, but he was having none of that. He only held you tighter as he whispered calming words in your ear. After who knows how long, your tears subsided and you hiccoughed a few times, adding to the shame you felt.

“Darling, you needn’t keep it a secret from me any longer,” Loki said once you fully calmed down. “I already know.”

Then something clicked in your mind. Darling. It was what the person last night had called you. The cold hands still holding your body suddenly felt all too familiar. You hadn’t even entertained the idea for a second that Loki had been the one to comfort you last night. Though, it would make sense if some magic was involved in you falling back asleep so easily.

“You-you,” you stuttered, only to be cut off by a gentle shush from Loki.

“Yes, dear, it was me last night. I’m sorry I ignored your hints, but I didn’t think you actually wanted to discuss it. And, quite frankly, I don’t always now how to respond to gratitude.”

One thing still wasn’t adding up for you. You asked, “But how do you know what’s bothering me.”

“You kept saying ‘spiders’ last night. You were so shaken, it didn’t seem appropriate to press for more information,” he said, finally releasing you, but only enough to see your face.

“Oh,” was all you managed to reply, having been so out of it that you had no memory of speaking at all.

He fully let go of you and walked with purpose to one of your walls. He pressed his hands to it and they started to emit a greenish glow.

“Whatcha doing?” you questioned, still sniffling a little.

“Sensing for spiders. What, did you forget I have magic?” he teased, bringing a smile back to your face.

“What?” you questioned when his face fell. “What is it?”

Sensing his hesitation to fill you in, you reassured him that you could handle it. Deep down, you were aware that you probably didn’t want to know whatever news he felt pertinent to hide from you. The suspense was killing you, though, so you pestered Loki until he gave in.

“Darling, I’m sorry to tell you this,” he said, leading you to sit on the bed, “but there’s a spider nest in your walls.”

Your eyes widened in fear. No wonder you’d been seeing so many. Your mind threw you back into that moment from your youth. All you could imagine was the tiny spiders crawling all over your body. The way they felt on your arms, near your mouth, and in your hair. Shivers racked your body as Loki kneeled before you. He took your hands in his and moved his head so he could look into your eyes, which were currently locked on the floor.

“Stay with me now. It’s going to be ok. I’m right here.”

You couldn’t manage to choke out a response, so instead you focused on synching your breathing with the pace of his thumbs rubbing small circles on the back of your hand. You felt lightheaded, but Loki’s eyes kept you grounded in reality. Finally, you regained control of your senses.

“Th-thank you,” you said, shaking out the remaining bits of paralysis.

“You don’t need to thank me for this, dear.” Before you could protest, he continued, “Now, I can take care of the nest with my seidr, but any spiders that are scurrying about will escape my wrath. We can talk to Stark about getting an exterminator in here.”

You nodded meekly, still not able to do much else. A familiar green glow came from Loki as he worked his magic. Once he was done, he turned and smiled at you. With the threat mainly neutralized, you suddenly became very self-conscious of your attire, remembering you were still only in a robe. To be honest, you’d pictured a scenario like this before; you barely clothed and alone with Loki. Of course, it was never in a situation quite like this. You thanked him profusely and shepherded him towards the door before your mind could wander any further. Unfortunately, one of the remaining arachnids decided to make an appearance, sending you scrambling into Loki’s arms.

“There’s no way you can spend the night in here. Will you come to my room?”

Even though he’d phrased it like a question, you knew he wouldn’t let you refuse the offer. Even so, whatever scrap of pride you still possessed begged you to brave it out. Mainly though, you just wanted a good night’s sleep.

“Ok. Yeah. I think I’d like that. But, uh, do you think I could maybe change first?”

He let go of you again and nodded his head, obviously having also forgotten you were only dressed in a robe. Once you were in some more suitable sleepwear, Loki took your hand and led you to his bedroom. You’d hoped that he would cuddle you again like he had the night prior and were disappointed when he laid as far away as possible from you on the large mattress.

“Hey, Loki,” you said, bashfully. “Remember last night? Well I’m still kinda scared and was wondering if-”

“Say no more, darling.”

Loki wrapped you in his arms and placed a tender kiss on your forehead. As his melodic voice coaxed you to sleep, you decided that, spiders or not, this would not be the last time you got to snuggle with the god of mischief. Lucky for you, Loki was thinking the exact same thing.

#loki x reader #loki x you #loki x y/n #loki laufeyson #loki odinson #peter parker #spiderman #reader insert #loki fluff #fluff #arachnaphobia tw #marvel #mcu

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malcolmwhitly-bright · 5 years ago

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Longing for Things Out of Reach

Chapter Two

No one wants to be friends with the cripple.

It’s not completely true. His classmates could not care less about any of the many tools he needs to get around. His speech impediment isn’t that bad anymore and no one notices it except him. He’s pretty ‘ok’ in his classmates’ books. Everyone knows his story, every news station in America gave him his five minutes of fame for turning his father in. His lack of friends has nothing to do with him physically and everything to do with him mentally.

“What do you want me to do, Jessica?”

Malcolm pretends like he can’t hear Gil and his mother arguing in the doorway. They blame one another for his failures but even Malcolm knows it’s all his fault. He’s slower than normal, more than taking his time as he walks to the steps. He doesn’t want to face Gil, doesn’t want to talk about another horrible week at school like next week will be any different.

“Jackie said she’s making burritos,” Ainsley tells him. She’s hot on his heels and he’s expressed several times her doing so makes him feel self-conscious about the way he walks. She remembers this when he catches his foot on the carpet and curses angrily. “Sorry, Mal.”

Malcolm closes his eyes, breathing through his nose for ten seconds before opening them again. His voice is calm, his frustration melting away. “It’s not your fault, I-I wasn’t watching.” With more concentration, he manages to get his left leg over the carpet even if it means he leans heavily into the crutch at his side.

Ainsley watches him falter at the top of the steps. The task is daunting. “Why don’t you move your bedroom downstairs,” she whispers, still worried her words will set him off like a ticking bomb. “No one would think any less of you.” It seemed to be a debate held monthly in their home. Staved off for when Malcolm had one of his severely worse days. Her mother would comfort him as best she can and asks if he’d like her to call Gil. That together they can move his things to the first-floor bedroom.

His cold blue eyes find her and she can see he’s not mad. He shakes his head with a knowing smirk,” I would.” He takes the first step, leaning between the railing and the crutch. What he means is that he knows that his family would come at the drop of a hat to help move his room downstairs but he would feel awful if he moves it. It’s… It’s like being a kid again before his father was sent away. He’s a broken child all over again.

“Hey my little G-man,” Gil rustles Malcolm’s hair and steps away from Jessica to take Malcolm’s overnight bag. Malcolm forces a smile for Jackie who waves at him from where Ainsley is now engaging her in conversation. “How was this week?”

Malcolm trusts his mother has already told the Lieutenant that he missed Tuesday and Wednesday. He forced himself out of bed Tuesday only to fall in the shower like a complete moron when his hip locked up and he was hit with such blinding pain in his knees that he had to army crawl out. He could live without the embarrassment of telling Gil that his mother had found him completely naked on the bathroom floor.

He decides to smile through it, “I fell down the stairs yesterday morning but I aced my calc test.” He leaves out that he was home alone and that it took him ten minutes to find the strength to pull himself upright. His therapist calls this his ‘protective dome’. That only because it’s nicer to give deflections a different name. She doesn’t like his protective dome and he knows it’s because it’s not as protective as he likes to pretend it is. Lying to the people who care about him isn’t helpful for them or for him.

“That’s one less fall than last week,” Ainsley supplies in their silence. She always wants him to appease the ground between Malcolm and others. She’ll smooth over his frustrated comments towards Gil or his mother. She’ll even brush off his mean comments. He doesn’t deserve it.

He doesn’t deserve a lot of things.

“Come on kid,” Gil sighs at Malcolm’s full plate. Malcolm hadn’t even bothered to pick up his fork. Jackie sends him a look from the kitchen, it’s a warning. Gil isn’t in a good mood and Malcolm’s disinterest in life is not going to make it better. “You’re not gonna eat your food? Have you eaten at all today?”

Protective Dome. Don’t tell him more than what he needs to know.

Malcolm shrugs his shoulders, “... had a granola bar.” He can remember the day his life changed forever. One phone call. He wishes he’d never made the phone call. He didn’t save the woman in the basement with him so there was no point. He wishes… He wishes he would have died in that basement, in the teal room.

There would be no crutches, canes, or wheelchairs. There would be no mornings where he’s too weak to stand or in too much pain to think. There’d be nothing. He’d be dead. Maybe he would have grown weaker, died in his sleep. Things probably would have escalated and it would be a slow, painful death but it would be a death. That’s more than he has now.

But he didn’t die. Gil saved him.

Malcolm remembers that night perfectly. The way his father seemed warmer than normal as they made their way down the stairs. He can feel the gurney digging into his back and the needle piercing his flesh. The clouds over his eyes and in his skin.

He can remember the banging as the cops filled the house. His mother and Ainsley’s crying as they realized they were looking for Martin. Better than anything else, he remembers Gil. Warm, strong arms that lifted him from the gurney, a soothing voice through the shouts and cries of the madness around.

Gil.

Gil with his spicy cologne.

Gil with his bear hugs and goatee.

“I’m sorry,” Malcolm whispers, his eyes falling just short of where Gil’s are. “I… I-” he doesn’t know. There’s no good excuse for his behavior. A heavy hand finds his shoulder and Malcolm looks up to find Gil smiling down at him.

Gil squeezes his shoulder and says nothing as he pulls the plate away. Jackie smiles at him from the kitchen and Malcolm bows his head. His therapist had suggested that perhaps his fear was misplaced. That he needs to stop worrying about freaking his family out and worry more about what’s freaking him out.

More importantly, what led to his attempt.

He can’t remember most of it, his therapist explained that sort of thing can happen when a person is traumatized. It’s the way the brain protects itself. Too bad it didn’t happen to the first ten years of his life, then maybe he wouldn’t have a suicide attempt to remember. His therapist hadn’t found that quip as clever as he did.

He remembers waking in the hospital and the way they looked at him. The way they’re still looking at him now, almost a week later.

He meets Jackie’s eyes, those intuitive blue eyes. Just like his. She brushes past Gil as they switch positions. She settles into the kitchen chair closests to him and his hand in hers. “Is this okay?” She means a hundred things, he knows. That was Jackie, clever. He nods and she runs her finger over the bandage on his wrist. It covers the angry red skin. “What were you thinking?” He understands... She’s not here to criticize his choices. “I’m not your mother, Malcolm.” She wants to understand.

He shakes his head like he can’t fathom an answer. Her eyes don’t move away and her thumb on his pulse makes him tremble with vulnerability. “I’m-” his voice is a rasp of nerves as he looks at her for any indication that he doesn’t have to go on. “I’m not- I’m not normal.” His protective dome of careful half truths be damned.

They both know it’s bigger than that. He knows, right now, as he thinks back to climbing into that too warm water. The way it settled on his chest like the night he found the woman. The razor felt like the needle slipping into his veins and his knees wobbled and his head was fuzzy.

She squeezes his fingers, shaking her head. “You’re seeing it all wrong,” she whispers, hand coming to the side of his head. “Think about the things you can do, the things you can control.” She looks over her shoulder, “if you’re so awful, why does your baby sister think you hung the moon and named stars?” She strokes his cheek, “who cares about normal. I like you better the way you are, dark humor and loud laugh.” She scoots closer, bringing their heads to touch. “You make life worth living, you silly boy.”

He struggles to keep his tears at bay, smiling and laughing oddly as a tear falls down his cheek. Jackie brushes it away and presses her warm palm to his cheek. He looks at her, lower lip trembling. “It-” he hasn’t talked about it. None of them have, not really. “It hurt,” he whispers. “It hurt so much.” She presses her lips to his forehead, wrapping an arm around his shoulders. The weight across his shoulders suddenly doesn’t feel as heavy, his heart light.

She unwraps him and he’s suddenly too cool without her right there beside him. Two fingers press under his chin and he lifts his head, smiling when he looks up to Jackie. She smiles with a wink but says nothing, Malcolm already knows. He’s a fighter. He’s smart. He’s the boy who gets knocked down and who gets back up and with love he’s learning to take his time.

“Eat,” Jackie fills the empty space where his plate had been with a peeled orange. She’s not leaving it up for debate. Gil watches him out of the corner of his eye but Jackie doesn’t. Normally, he might venture to say something about Gil’s attention but after everything he’s put the poor man through he doesn’t have the heart.

Ainsley runs into the kitchen stopping when she realizes Gil can hear her. She smiles sheepishly and grins at him. They’re not supposed to run through the house, a problem mostly at Gil and Jackie’s because Ainsley gets so excited about being at their house.

“What is it, Ains?” Gil raises an eyebrow and puts a hand on her shoulder, stopping her twisting as she stands in place. His smile is soft as he regards her. It’s only been two weeks since he saw them and yet he missed them both unspeakably. It was weird, the house and station and the back of his car without one of them. No Malcolm to get picky over what station the radio played on or Ainsley to give him those sad little pouty eyes when he says no to stopping for sweets.

She smiles, “I wanna play checkers. Will you play with me?” She can see his hesitation and pulls his hand off her shoulder, squeezing his fingers. “Please, Gil? Please?”

He caves, like always, and lets her pull him to the living room.

Jackie watches the exchange with a smile, “he’s missed having you two around.” Malcolm knows she’s speaking to him but prefers placing another orange slice on his tongue so he doesn't have to engage in discussing exactly why it is they haven’t been over. “I have too.”

It comes back to him, it always does.

Ainsley can’t have horse riding lessons because Jessica doesn’t like missing Malcolm’s physical therapy.

Gil missed two weeks from work because Malcolm decided to slit-

Right. He’s not supposed to think like that. Ainsley can’t have horse riding lessons because she’s already balancing ballet and school. Gil missed time because Malcolm was in the hospital and the station wrote it off because they know the relationship.

Malcolm clears his throat, “she’s talked about it all week.” He can faintly remember on Tuesday when she crawled into his bed with him. Their mother had sent her up with a heated blanket and Ainsley had tucked it around the two of them before settling into his side. She had talked his ear off but hearing her excitement helped with some of the pain.

“And you?” Jackie is the only person that pushes him to express his emotions. She tilts her head and watches him. Gil and Jessica always comment that when Malcolm and Jackie tilt their heads they look exactly alike. That heavy intuitive gaze in their blue eyes.

Malcolm nods, “it’s…” He doesn’t want to say home but… This house is home more than his own could ever be. “It’s good to be home,” he looks down and realizes he’s finished the orange. His stomach rumbles, reminding him just how little he’s eating as of late.

Jackie smiles at the sound and she hands him a plate. This one has two sliced strawberries, half a banana, and another orange. He starts this one with a little more fever, smiling when the orange drips down his chin. She smiles too, “I love you, bright boy.” She rustles his hair.

He looks up at her and he knows she means it. He bites into a strawberry and smiles when he finds it to be sweet. He’ll spend his whole life wondering how it is that her love seeped into everything she made, even the fruits she cuts. “I love you too, Jackie.”

#prodigal son #prodigal son fanfic

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clairekatswritingcorner · 6 years ago

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Love Letters

Word Count: 1,289

Summary: Rhys writes D a special letter to confess all the things he loves about her that are often hard to verbalize. D is naturally quite taken aback by the gesture, not just due to the letter’s contents, but also by the fact that Rhys would bother to do something so nice for her in the first place.

For @robotarmjokes!

If you enjoyed reading this piece, please consider leaving a tip or commissioning me!

*****

He fiddled with the envelope in his hands, unable to suppress the anxious fidgeting tingling in his nerves. Widely known as the man that had spearheaded Hyperion’s downfall and raised Atlas from the ashes in its place, there should have been little that could faze him. But appearances seldom reflect the whole truth, and just like anyone else, he wasn’t immune to everything. Quite the opposite, actually, since he figured he was put off by things more often than most, even his wife. She frequently lamented and berated herself for her shortcomings, the little things that upset or unsettled her that she assumed were mainly inconsequential in the eyes of others. Rhys knew that wasn’t the case as a result of his own experiences, and he wished he could do more to help her understand the validity of her position.

But that persuasive process was going to have to wait; today, she happened to lie at the root of his problems. Not due to anything she’d done or said, since the predicament he found himself in was a rather unfortunately personal and self-inflicted one. Standing outside the door to her workshop, the place where she organized and conducted the majority of her top-secret work and contracts, his gaze flitted restlessly between the knob and the paper that crinkled between his shaking fingers. Objectively, it wasn’t a big deal, and he silently scolded himself as seconds stretched into minutes, knowing deep down that he should have been more than capable of easily accomplishing this task. Perhaps it was just the nature of the act, the risk that came with confronting her so directly, but he’d engaged in other awkward and downright foolish actions in the past and never suffered anything close to the panic and paranoia he was now.

It wasn’t like this was his first time giving her a gift. Well, he supposed it was the first time he’d given her something like this, but he couldn’t pinpoint what it was about this specific kind of gift that made him feel like he was sinking in a tsunami of self-doubt. It was almost as if he’d regressed back into a helpless pining schoolboy, nervous yet resolute in his mission to make a good impression…clinging to the hope that his crush would give him even a sliver of a chance to prove himself. But this was his spouse he was talking about! The person he’d married, his better half who’d made everything from the proposal to the ceremony the best moments of his life. Their relationship hadn’t exactly been smooth sailing from the start, but few worthwhile relationships are. With the combination of a spark and a lingering will of dedication, almost anyone can withstand even the harshest storms together…at least that’s what Rhys had learned from his time with his darling D.

He took a deep breath and let it out slowly, raising a hand to knock and hesitating just a second more. Was he worried she was going to laugh at him, or reject him? Was he scared of this act he’d poured his heart and soul into falling flat, and the crippling disappointment that would surely follow? If D could manage to push through her insecurities to do better for him, the least he could do was give her the same courtesy. Rather than plunging headfirst into the unknown, though, he opted to employ a more cautious method, slipping the unassuming looking note under the door. He retreated after knocking a few times, her irritated demand to know who’d come to interrupt her following him down the hall. He figured he’d use the extra time he’d gained to properly prepare to face her reaction, regardless of how wonderful or terrible it turned out to be.

As the hours ticked by, he found himself starting to regret his decision to flee. The sound of creaking hinges and approaching footsteps snapped him back to reality, and the moment he laid eyes on her his breath was taken away. She didn’t necessarily look much different than usual…but he could tell she’d been both flustered and crying, taken aback by the honest and heartfelt nature of his modest offering. A letter detailing some of the things he loved about her, how she’d improved his life since they’d met, how much happier he was now that she was in his life. Without her, he never would have been able to achieve the happiness he had now…and his life would never be the same because of it. He hoped he’d managed to make her feel at least a fraction of the same way.

“What’s the meaning of this?” she demanded, although he could tell she wasn’t asking in a derogatory or disgruntled way.

“I just wanted to give you a little something to show I care,” he explained, stepping across the room to close the gap between them. “I mean, I know it’s not much, but…”

“Why did you make me something like this?”

He was more interested to know how she felt about receiving it, but he supposed he could humor her questions a little longer. “Well, you’ve said before that gifts make you uncomfortable. Maybe you didn’t use that phrasing exactly, but I know you’ve mentioned that getting something like a letter, a more sentimental and subdued expression of thanks or admiration, is easier for you to accept. I’ve had a lot on my mind about us, about you, especially with our anniversary coming up. So, I decided to put some of those feelings on paper…and give that paper to you, hoping that maybe it would, I don’t know, help brighten your day or something.”

She had to remind herself not to clench her fist and subsequently crumple the precious pages in her hands. Multiple paragraphs of passionate prose that clearly reflected his struggle to translate the cornucopia of feelings that fueled his affection into something coherent. Even if some parts of it were confusing or failed to make sense, the one thing that had made it through crystal clear was his ardent and abundant love for her. She’d felt similar sentiments flood her chest as she’d read this ode to his emotions, taking in his adoration and gratitude for their relationship and everything about her in general. She knew sometimes the hardest thing to do was simply putting thoughts into words, and this must have been one of the most taxing attempts he’d ever made. She couldn’t think of a more complicated topic to parse.

“This was very thoughtful of you…and very kind,” she finally confessed, setting the papers down on the nearest surface. “It’s the first time anyone’s ever done something like this for me. The first time someone’s actually bothered to remember me saying something like that, too…something so small I can’t believe you bothered paying attention.”

“Nothing’s too small to pay attention to when it comes to you,” Rhys insisted, coaxing her a bit closer before tenderly kissing her neon fringe of hair. “You’re the most important thing in the whole universe to me. I know I’ve said it before, and I’ll probably say it again, many more times…but it’s just something I really don’t want you to forget.”

“Sometimes I just don’t know how you can mean it—”

Cutting her off with an unexpected, spine tingling smooch, he settled his arms around her waist, joining his hands above the small of her back. “You’ll just have to take my word for it.”

She flushed and struggled to fish out enough words for a suitable reply. “From a silver-tongued snake like you? That’s asking a lot.”

He chuckled, amused by her embarrassed, overly defensive response. “Don’t worry, I promise I won’t ask for much more than that.”

#self insert #selfinsert #self ship #selfship #oc x canon #self insert fic #self insert fanfiction #selfship fic #selfship fanfiction #self insert commissions #selfship commissions #my writing #claire writes #one shot #robotarmjokes #commission

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ahgastae · 7 years ago

Text

Penny for Your Thoughts?

Jinyoung x Reader (Soulmate!AU)

Fluff

Word Count - 5.3k

Warnings: you know what? i think i did pretty good on the swears this time. so unless you’re allergic to sweet, tooth rotting cuteness, i have no warnings for this one!

Quick A/N: bolded text is spoken/heard in korean! also, i changed this up a bit from the intro/headcanons for story purposes, and i hope that isn’t a problem.

Unlike most people in his system, Jinyoung has a love-hate relationship with the voice inside his head. No, not the nagging little voice in the back of mind telling him to strangle Yugyeom, but the actual voice invading his thoughts. The voice belonging to his soulmate. Now, Jinyoung is truly grateful for the perks of his system, like ‘meeting’ his soulmate before their fated encounter. But, sometimes, hearing her in his head makes it all the more harder for him to wait.

Jinyoung sighs blissfully, letting the stress roll off his shoulders as he finally sinks into the practice room couch. He loves comebacks as much as the rest of his group, but none of them are exactly fond of the exhaustion that comes with them. Jinyoung’s gently eyes close, basking in the small moment of peace. They don’t come around very often, considering his groupmates’ personalities, and he cherishes the few he gets. His mind toes the edge of consciousness, teetering on the brink of sleep when-

“Jinyoung-ah!”

That didn’t last long.

Jinyoung’s eyes flash open, just in time to catch Jackson leaping towards him without warning. He grimaces when the older male lands across his lap, legs splaying along the end of the couch. Besides him, Jaebum snickers under his breath.

“I think you almost got five minutes this time,” Jaebum remarks, amusement written on his face. Jackson smiles widely, wriggling around in Jinyoung’s lap to get comfortable.

“I wasn’t aware I was being timed.”

Jaebum shrugs, “It’s just something I do to keep myself occupied. That, and it’s always amusing to watch them try and wake you up.” Jinyoung glances around the room, realizing his remaining four members are all watching him, and they’re all simultaneously trying to hold in laughter. He rolls his eyes, but can’t hide the small smile on his lips. Really, he’s not surprised. He would be shocked if they didn’t try to mess with him while his eyes were closed. But that still doesn’t stop him from pushing Jackson off of his legs.

Jackson whines when he hits the floor with a dull thud, “Hey! Is that how you treat your elders?”

“The only thing elderly about you is how fragile your bones are.” The room breaks into giggles, and only intensifies when Jackson mocks pain, clutching at his chest as he flops down dramatically.

“Wounded!” He cries. “Wounded by own blood! I raised you on my back, Park Jinyoung!”

Jinyoung smirks as he rises from the couch, “And that will be your downfall.” He acts out removing a sword from its sheath, pointing the imaginary blade at Jackson’s chest. “Any last words?” Jackson locks eyes with him, chest heaving theatrically. The room is silent, the five other members all waiting with bated breath. Jackson does not disappoint.

“Wang Gae... Park Gae...”

Jackson collapses with a grunt, limbs spread out all around him. Immediately the room erupts once more. Bambam and Youngjae rush forwards, feigning tears and sorrow for their fallen friend. Jinyoung turns around, pointing his ‘sword’ threateningly at the last three members.

“Have you anything to say?”

Mark and Yugyeom quickly shake their heads, faces growing red from laughter. Jaebum chuckles, hiding his smile behind his hand. Jinyoung nods triumphantly, and returns his weapon to his sheath.

Then, amidst the loud laughter and dramatic sobs, he hears it. A sound he’s grown to become quite accustomed to. One might even say he’s fond of it. The light giggle flashes through his mind in a second, and then it’s gone just as soon. Jinyoung’s heart swells in his chest, although he can’t tell if it’s from adoration or embarrassment.

At least she enjoyed his performance.

I bite my lip, staring down at my notebook as I try to hide the smile on my face. I know he has a penchant for theatrics, and I find it really endearing that he does, but I really wish he would wait until after my professor’s lecture on cognitive functions.

It’s not often that I find myself popping into my soulmate’s head. In fact, for the most part, I try not to. In the beginning, my soulmate was a pretty private and reserved person. He didn’t like me barging into his head at the most random of moments, and I understand that, but it’s not exactly like I had any control over it at that time. I didn’t even know I was in the thoughts system until the day I had the weirdest out of body experience of my life.

People always ask what it’s like to have a direct link to my soulmate’s mind, and, honestly, it’s fucking confusing. That link can vary in strength, and sometimes changes on a day-to-day basis. Most days, it’ll be a streamline of thoughts, like a phone conversation. I’ve been told it’s the main way those of us in the thoughts system communicate with our significant others, but it took awhile before I wasn’t the only one talking.

“Why are you so intent on killing Yugioh?”

The question escaped my mind before I could stop it. By then, I knew that wasn’t the name of the tall friend he always wanted to strangle, but it never failed to entertain him when I got it ‘wrong’, so I wasn’t going to stop anytime soon. Moments later, I felt the familiar feeling in the back of my head, letting me know he’d heard. Usually that would be the most I got, so imagine my surprise when he actually responded.

“The little shit keeps eating all my chocolate. It’s what he deserves.”

I smiled, trying hard not to let my excitement show too much. That was the first time he purposefully communicated with me, and I was over the moon to see some progress being made.

“Ah, a capital offense, I see. Off with his head, then.”

Then he did something I never expected, at least not because of me.

He laughed. And I swear my heart was sold from that moment on.

Nowadays, it’s more common for him to reply to me when he gets the chance, and it almost feels like we’ve become some sort of weird, long distance friends. That’s probably something strange to think about my soulmate, but I still hesitate to bring up anything that might make him uncomfortable, or draw himself away. The last thing I want is for him to feel trapped inside his own mind.

Other days, there’s only subconscious feelings, like a sudden craving for strawberries, or a tinge of intense, yet unexplained frustration. I once snapped at a friend for breathing too close to me, despite having no idea why I was so bothered by it. It was odd, sure, but it wasn’t my strangest day, either. That title is reserved for moments when the link is the strongest.

The connection between two individuals in the thoughts system is believed to be strongest when one or both of them experiences exceptionally powerful emotions. In times of exhilarating excitement or crippling sorrow, the bond is so strong, they say it’s possible for the two souls to partially merge. What does that mean, exactly? Well, it’s a little hard to explain.

The first time it happened, I was fourteen, and my best friend, Rory, had just told me they were moving. Granted, they were only moving about an hour or two away, but I swear it felt like my entire body went cold. I’d known them since elementary school, and I couldn’t imagine how my life would be without them. My heart just snapped, but when it did, it felt like something else was put together.

One moment, I was blinking back tears, looking into my friend’s eyes, and the next, I was in a small room with mirrors lining the walls. Except the person staring back at me in my reflection wasn’t me. A young boy, probably close to my own age, stood frozen in the mirror, jaw hanging open in shock. I glanced around the room, acutely aware of his head turning in the reflection with my movements. There was no sign of Rory, no sign of the park we were sitting in, no sign of me.

My chest began to feel tight as I soon realized I had no idea where I was, or even who I was. How was I supposed to figure out how to fix it if I didn’t know what it was? I couldn’t just run up to a stranger and say I somehow switched bodies with a teenage boy I don’t know. And if I was there in his body, did that mean he was in...?

In the midst of my thoughts, a hand landed on my shoulder, jolting me out of my concentration, and effectively scaring the shit out of me. I jumped, instinctively elbowing the person behind me, and throwing their hand off as I stepped away. I heard a pained groan, and turned around to find another boy, clutching his stomach and swearing under his breath.

“Jinyoung, what’s the matter with you?!”

When he spoke, I knew it was in a language I couldn’t understand, shouldn’t have been able to understand, but was somehow able to comprehend.

“I-I don’t know who you’re talking about.” It was weird to hear a voice that wasn’t my own come out, even if I recognized that it wasn’t my mouth saying those words. It was even weirder when I realized I responded in the same language he was speaking.

The boy sighed as he stood up straight with the roll of his eyes, “Seriously? I didn’t expect you to be one for jokes like this.” He took a step towards me, but stopped when I took an equal step back. “Jinyoung-ah, are you okay?”

I tried to respond, to tell him that I’m not ‘Jinyoung’, that I’m definitely not okay, but something in my chest broke, and, suddenly, I wasn’t in the mirror room anymore. I was back on that park bench, Rory gripping my hand tightly with a worried expression on their face. It took a few hours for my parents to finally calm me down, and an even longer time for me to understand what the hell had happened to me. Why I had suddenly found myself in a random boy’s body, and why (as Rory would later tell me) he found himself in mine. At the end of the day, I came out of that situation with several confusing revelations.

One, I am in the thoughts system. My soulmate and I are connected in arguably the deepest, most personal way; through our thoughts. Two, ‘soul-swapping’, as they’ve termed it, is a rare event that can occur between two soulmates in the thoughts system. It’s what happened that day, and could happen again at just about any moment, given the connection is strong enough. And, finally, ‘Jinyoung’ wasn’t just some random boy. He’s my soulmate, and I’ve been trying to find him since that day.

“Miss L/N, care to join us back in class?” My psych professor’s voice abruptly breaks me out of my memories. My cheeks burn as I realize I’ve been zoned out for a good twenty minutes, and it hasn’t gone unnoticed. Shit. This isn’t the first time this has happened, and I’ve been warned multiple times to stop it. Professor Kim stares me down from the front of the classroom, and I shrink under his gaze.

“Sorry, Professor, I was just...”

“Lost in your thoughts?” A couple giggles sound from around the room. I glance down at my notebook, biting my lip. Why do I keep doing this? I literally cannot afford to be kicked out of the international study program. Not when I’ve come this far to find him. “Miss L/N?”

I look back up at Professor Kim, trying to ignore the burning in my face, “I’m sorry, Professor Kim. I promise I’ll pay attention from now on.” The professor nods, turning back to the board and resuming his lecture. I pick up my pencil with a sigh, forcing myself to focus, and keeping in mind why I came here in the first place.

Two years ago, I sat in my cramped dorm room, quite literally bored out of my mind.

“Hey, Jinyoung?”

“Y/N? What aren’t you asleep yet?” I scrunched my eyebrows, glancing out my dorm window at the, very much, daylight sky.

“I’m...not tired yet, I guess.” It wasn’t uncommon for Jinyoung to say things like that, to get the time of day wildly off. It was part of what lead me to believe he must have lived somewhere far away, in a time zone where perhaps my day was his night.

“You should go to bed soon. Not getting enough sleep is bad for you, and you need it for your classes.”

I scoffed. Jinyoung practically knew my life to a T, yet I knew next to nothing about him, except that his name was Jinyoung, he was around my age, and that he lived in South Korea. I only found out about the last thing when I realized that the foreign language that I suddenly became fluent in during soul-swaps was, in fact, Korean. Other than that, he doesn’t like to share very much about himself, even though he had been talking more and more over the years. Honestly, it was kind of irritating.

“Jinyoung, how come you won’t tell me about where you live?”

“What do you mean? You know I live in Korea.”

I rolled my eyes, “Yeah, but I have no idea where in Korea. And you didn’t even tell me that, I figured it out myself.”

“Why are you so interested suddenly?” I hesitated to respond, eyeing the pamphlet sitting on my nightstand. A number of my classmates had talked about stumbling upon their soulmates while studying abroad, and I couldn’t help but wonder if the same would work for me. I only needed to know where I had to go.

“I just...” I struggled to find an excuse. “I just want to know more about you. You know so much about me; where I live, what I’m studying, who my friends are. I worry sometimes that I really am only talking to a voice inside my head.”

Jinyoung went silent, and I was scared that I had gone too far. While I wasn’t technically lying about sometimes thinking he wasn’t real, it felt wrong to not tell him the truth behind my curiosity. Then again, every once in a while, I wonder if his response would have been the same, had I told what I was really planning.

After a few harrowing minutes of silence, Jinyoung finally responded.

“Seoul. I live in Seoul.”

I hum to myself as I push open the door to my dorm. I somehow managed to keep my mind in my own head for the rest of the day, but I now have a sudden craving for chocolate, and I have a feeling my own taste buds aren’t to blame. I trudge towards the kitchen, licking my lips as I remember I have a few candies stashed away in the back of our fridge. With any luck, I’ll be able to finish them off before my dormmates get home.

My hopes are quickly dashed, however, when I enter the kitchen to find my two roommates, Jieun and Soojin, have not only returned early, but are currently sitting on the counter, munching on my chocolate. My eyes narrow, and I drop my bag onto the floor with a resounding thud. Both girls’ heads whip towards me, shock and guilt written on their faces.

“Y/N! You’re home early!” Jieun smiles forcefully, attempting to subtly move the bag of candy behind her.

“And you look really pretty today, unnie,” Soojin adds. She hops off the counter, and outstretches her arms for a hug. I dodge out of her reach, and snatch what’s left of my chocolates out of Jieun’s hands.

“Yah!”

“Don’t you ‘yah’ me! These weren’t yours in the first place!” I pop a candy in my mouth, sticking my tongue out at them.

Soojin’s lips drop into a pout, “We just wanted to have a little, unnie. You always buy the best sweets.”

“Quit trying to butter me up,” I point a warning finger at her. “You took my candy without asking, and now you get to face the consequences.”

“What consequences? Are you going to give us the silent treatment?” Jieun laughs. “You wouldn’t know which way was up without us showing you around Seoul.” She jumps off the counter, opening the fridge, and pulling out what I assume is tonight’s dinner. Soojin giggles, covering her mouth when I fix her with a small glare.

“Excuse you, but I think my Korean has improved a lot, thank you very much.” Jieun and Soojin share a look.

“Oh, that’s right, I forgot,” Jieun teases. “That must be why you came home from the store with dog shampoo the other day.” Soojin erupts in laughter, giving Jieun a high five as her body shakes with glee. It’s my turn to pout, crossing my arms indignantly.

“I thought the dog was just another one of those cute brand characters!”

Jieun laughs, patting my head when I furrow my brows, “’Thought’ being the key word.”

“Speaking of thinking,” Soojin interjects as she takes a seat at the table, gesturing at me to follow. “How were your classes today, Y/N?” I sigh, going to pick out another chocolate when I realize the bag is now empty. I guess Jieun wasn’t kidding when she said there weren’t very many left. Tossing the empty candy bag in the trash, I walk towards the table and plop down in the chair across from Soojin.

“Same old, same old,” I hum, resting my chin on my hand. “I kind of...zoned out in Professor Kim’s class.”

Soojin quirks a brow, “Zoned out, or zoned out?”

“The second one.”

“Unnie, not again!”

“I know, I know! I don’t mean for it to happen,” I sputter. “It just...does.”

“Is Professor Kim the one who demands everyone speak in Korean, even though the class is for mostly international students?”

“Uh-uh,” Soojin shakes her head. “That’s Professor Song.”

“I thought she was the one who always extends due dates.”

“Guys!”

Jieun glances at me from her spot in front of the stove, “Oh, sorry, Y/N. We were just talking about the professors.”

“I know what you guys were talking about, I just...” Soojin reaches across the table, laying a comforting hand on my forearm.

“Y/N?”

I sigh, running a hand through my hair, “I guess...it’s just getting to me a bit, you know? I can only spend so many years abroad with the costs and the credits I need to graduate, and it’s starting to feel like I’m not going to accomplish what I came to Seoul to do.” I shake my head, trying to get rid of the tingling feeling in the back of my mind. “It’s frustrating knowing he’s here somewhere, but having no idea if I have any chance of finding him.”

“Don’t say that!” Soojin cries. “You’ll absolutely find him! That’s the whole point of soulmates, after all!”

“I hate to admit it, but she’s right, Y/N. You came all this way, I’m sure it’s only a matter of time,” Jieun shrugs. “Besides, how many Jinyoungs can there possibly be?”

A frown etches itself across Jinyoung’s face. He really didn’t mean to eavesdrop on that conversation between Y/N and her roommates, but he did, and now he can’t get it out of his mind. How could he have not realized it sooner? In hindsight, he supposes there were quite a few things that made should have made it fairly obvious. Like how her sleep schedule suddenly became a lot more aligned with Korean Standard Time. How she hasn’t talked about her college friends for a while now. How her optimism is slowly declining as the efforts of her international search continue to be fruitless. Jinyoung wants to beat himself up for not noticing it before.

Y/N’s looking for him. She’s been looking for him. She came all the way to Seoul...for him. He briefly remembers the short conversation they had months ago, where he finally shared where he lived. She’d been curious for so long, he could feel it, but he was worried that revealing too much about himself would lead to her finding out who he is. That he’s not just Jinyoung, her soulmate. He knows how stressful being with an idol can be, and he reasoned with himself that he didn’t want to subject her to that.

But now he knows she’s out there, and even closer than before. She’s here, somewhere in Seoul, desperate to find him when he’s given nothing but the vaguest of clues. Jinyoung realizes that his idol status is not why he’s afraid of meeting her. He’s just afraid. Ever since he first discovered he is in the thoughts system, back when he was fifteen years old and just became a trainee, he has worried if he’ll ever match up to the idealized version she has of him in her mind. Y/N doesn’t know it, he promised himself he wouldn’t tell her until they really met, but he’s been falling for her since the day she first asked why he wants to strangle a certain maknae.

Jinyoung decides then and there that neither of them are going to wait much longer. He’s tired of only imagining what she looks like, dreaming about how it would feel to have her in his arms. He’s going to start putting in as much effort as she is, beginning with ‘persuading’ Jaebum to finally end practice for the night.

“Jaebum hyung,” Jinyoung calls for the leader’s attention. “I think that’s enough for today.” Jaebum raises a brow, and opens his mouth to respond when one of the maknaes beats him to it.

“Ah?” Bambam grunts from his place on the floor. “How come Jinyoung hyung gets to decide when practice ends? I wanna go home, too.”

“Because I don’t drain his pockets whenever we got out to eat.”

“That’s debatable,” Mark scoffs. “Remember that time at the karaoke bar-”

“Jinyoung’s right,” Jaebum interrupts. “We’ve been here long enough, and it won’t do any good to be sleep deprived tomorrow.” He glances at the exhausted members, all in various states of tiredness. “Let’s finish for the day.”

Sighs of relief ensue around the room, as everyone collects their belongings and slowly start to filter out the door. Jaebum is the last to leave, and Jinyoung sends him a nod of thanks as he exits. A feeling of determination is set in his chest, and he hopes he’s not too late to catch Y/N before she drifts off to sleep.

Jieun’s question sticks in my mind, plaguing me as I lay in bed that night. Yeah, there might not be a huge number of Jinyoungs in the world, but that doesn’t necessarily make my search any easier. I know enough about my Jinyoung; what he likes and dislikes, his mannerisms and habits. I like to think I’d be able to recognize him fairly easily. Unfortunately, that doesn’t necessarily mean I know what he looks like. The few times I’ve gotten a look at my soulmate have been during the few times we’ve soul-swapped, and that started to happen less and less as we’ve both matured. Not that I necessarily want them to happen, considering how damn disorienting they are, but what Jinyoung currently looks like as opposed to the last glimpse I got five years ago would be a great help.

I groan, running my hands down my face in an attempt to drown out my restless thoughts. This is so not what I want to be doing at ten minutes past midnight.

“Can’t sleep?”

His sudden appearance immediately sends a feeling of calm through my limbs. A smile ghosts my lips, as I close my eyes, and let my arms fall to my sides with a sigh.

“That obvious?”

He chuckles, “Just a little bit, yeah.”

I stopped trying to understand why I hear Jinyoung’s thoughts in English years ago. I just chalked it up to another weird quirk of the universe, and learned to be thankful of the mental translator between my mind and his.

“What are you doing up this late?” I ask.

“Thinking about you.”

“Jinyoung.”

“Okay, okay,” He laughs. “I just got out of practice. I was thinking about you, though.”

“Why are you practicing so late? It’s not good for your health.” I furrow my brows, realizing I sound just like he did a couple years ago.

“Maybe I like it when you worry about me.”

“...Seriously?”

He sighs, “I’m...preparing for something big at work. After it comes, I’ll be able to rest as much as I want.”

Something in the back of my mind tells me that’s not true, but I don’t mention it to Jinyoung. This isn’t the first time he’s had ‘something big’ coming up, yet he refuses to tell me anything he actually does at work. I keep having to remind myself that even though we’re soulmates and have been talking to each other for several years now, we don’t actually know each other, and I’m not entitled to that information. Doesn’t make it any less frustrating, though.

“Y/N?”

“Hm?”

“Did...did you really come to Seoul to find me?”

My heart stops. How did he...? I never told Jinyoung about coming to Korea. He’s always so private, I didn’t know how he would react if I did. How did he even find out?

Then I remember the feeling from earlier, the one in the back of my mind during my conversation with Jieun and Soojin.

“This little shit was listening in.”

“I’m being genuinely honest when I say I didn’t mean to.”

“‘Didn’t mean to’? Jinyoung, that was a private conversation!”

“And I apologize!” He stresses. “But you haven’t answered my question yet.”

“I...”

“Actually, wait, don’t answer it. I don’t want to do it like this.”

“...Jinyoung? Are you okay?”

“Y/N, how far away are you from Gyeongui Park?”

I tug my jacket closer to me in a vain attempt to fight off the chill night air. What the hell is Jinyoung thinking? What the hell am I thinking? It’s almost one in the morning, now is not the time for me to be wandering around Gyeongui Park, half an hour away from my dorm. I sigh, plopping myself down on a nearby bench, and staring up at the starry sky.

Jinyoung stopped responding shortly after I left the dorm. I have no idea what he’s doing, or why he wanted me to come to Gyeongui in the middle of the night. He seemed nervous about something, and, to be honest, I can’t tell if the rapid thrumming in my chest is his or my own. I take a deep breath, and close my eyes to collect my thoughts.

I’m sitting in a park, by myself, in the wee hours of the night because a voice inside my head told me to. A small laugh bubbles past my lips. God, I sound like someone straight out of some cheesy romcom. Or a B-rated horror movie. Jieun always tells me I would be the one to die first. I wonder if the murderer would go easy on me if I told them I’m waiting here for my enigmatic soulmate.

Suddenly, my ears pick up the unmistakable sound of gravel crunching under shoes. Someone’s getting closer, and my chest tightens at the realization. I try one last time to reach my soulmate.

“Goddamnit, Jinyoung, if I get stabbed tonight, I’m going to haunt your ass for the rest of your life.”

The footsteps stop. All I hear is the sound of my own breathing, and my heart thumping against my ear drums.

“Y/N!” A familiar voice gasps. “Shit, this is not the way I wanted this to go...”

My eyes flick open, and I realize why I recognize the woman’s voice.

It’s mine.

I stare incredulously at my own face as my mind struggles to process what’s happening. If my body is there, then who...? I glance downwards, and everything starts to click into place.

“Jinyoung?” I ask tentatively, shiver running down my spine. “Is that you?”

“Yeah,” Jinyoung sighs, and I try to ignore how bizarre it sounds hearing my own voice. “I...don’t really know what to do right now. This isn’t how I wanted us to meet for the first time.”

“Not in our own bodies?” He looks down, kicking at the dirt on the ground, and sullenly nods his head. He juts out my lower lip in a small pout, and I can’t help but laugh.

Jinyoung immediately perks up, “What are you laughing at? Our first meeting is ruined! Years of waiting for this moment, and we don’t even get to see what each other look like! How are you not upset?”

“Jinyoung,” I start, gently grabbing his (my?) hand, and leading us towards the nearby bench. “This is pretty weird for me, too. I’m speaking a language I don’t understand right now, and looking into my own eyes. It’s just freaking bizarre.” I take a deep breath, softly squeezing my hand. “But I honestly don’t mind. I don’t need to stress about a perfect first meeting when I already know you’re perfect for me.” Jinyoung’s gaze drifts down to our hands, and he slowly intertwines our fingers. There we go.

I blink, and suddenly I’m staring down at my hand, my own hand, being tightly gripped by another. My eyes trail from our joined hands, up his arm, until they finally meet his. A warm feeling spreads through my chest, and I bite my lip to stop the smile from stretching across my face.

“Hi,” I whisper, giggling at the way he beams at me.

“Hey, there.” I tilt my head in confusion. Is this the weird translator’s work?

“How are you...?”

Jinyoung chuckles under his breath, “I have some...friends that are fluent in English, and when they found out my soulmate is absolutely horrendous at Korean,” I lightly smack his shoulder with my free hand, and he laughs before continuing, “I was forcefully enrolled in express classes.”

“I’m trying my best!” I insist, remembering the conversation I had with the girls earlier this evening. It’s strange, really; that feels like a lifetime ago, even though it’s only been a couple hours. Jinyoung tugs on my hand, drawing my attention back to him.

“You know, you still haven’t answered my question.” My brow furrows as Jinyoung moves closer, eyes sparkling with something I can’t pinpoint.

“What do you mean?”

“You came all the way to Seoul just for me. I didn’t realize I was that important to you already. I must be pretty damn special.”

I scoff, rolling my eyes playfully, “Says the one who caused a soul-swap because he was so nervous to meet me.”

“Really? Because I seem to recall that happening because someone thought I lured them to the park to be murdered.”

“You were listening, you little shit!” I exclaim, and Jinyoung smiles, leaning towards me. “Why didn’t you answer?”

“Maybe because I was too busy thinking about how to tell you I’m in love with you.”

I fall silent, watching the corners of Jinyoung’s lips turn up in amusement. His breath fans delicately across my face, forehead coming to rest against mine. My eyes remain locked in his gaze, and I start to feel warm despite the chill of the late night air. After what feels like an eternity, Jinyoung finally closes the distance between us. Our lips softly meet, and for a moment, I forget we’re sitting in a public park in the middle of the night. Jinyoung’s kiss is sweet, but passionate, his hands coming up to gently cradle my face between his palms. My eyes flutter closed, and I realize that I would sit on this bench with him forever if I could. Unfortunately, people aren’t built for that, and our lungs do eventually need air.

When we finally break apart, I feel lightheaded. Jinyoung’s eyes are bright and loving, and I can’t help but smile at him glowing under the moonlight.

“I love you, too, Jinyoung.”

oh, my god! hi! it’s certainly been a while since i posted a written piece like this, and it feels pretty good to get back into it! i took a break from writing prose for a bit to focus on my school work, and the semester’s coming to an end soon (which means finals) so i can’t necessarily say it won’t happen again. that said, i will try my best to keep writing and get more out.

if you liked this, and maybe want more got7 soulmate!aus, or even if you just want to see more of my stuff, i have links in my blog description to my most recent works and my entire masterlist! thanks for reading! -aly 💖

#jinyoung x reader #park jinyoung x reader #got7 jinyoung x reader #got7 x reader #got7 soulmate au #got7 fluff

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the-bounce-back · 6 years ago

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BEING IN CONTROL OF NOT BEING IN CONTROL

To say these past couple months have been and will always be remembered as the most emotionally, mentally and physically draining time of my life would be the understatement of the millennium. Note that I say this confidently, without even having experienced childbirth, planned a wedding, or organised a drama-free group holiday where everyone is actually happy yet.

Those things seem like light work compared to what I’ve been doing and feeling lately. A girl is tired.

For those of you that don’t know me, these past couple months have basically consisted of me dramatically exiting my former workplace, getting and accepting my dream job, planning my move from Nottingham to London with zero time to spare and somehow tying up all loose ends/getting closure before leaving. This might not sound like a big deal, but I guarantee you that most would have crumbled if they knew how many minuscule things had to fall into place for this to work out. Like a game of Tetris... except sh*t, depressing and with no console to dash across the room in frustration.

But we pulled through! My mate Vanessa and I managed to sort everything out in the end, and I’m finally moving down at the end of this week. And on Monday, I finally start my new job. Mad.

Now that I’ve finally had some time to relax and reflect, I admit that the way I handled the stress during this time was absolutely shambolic. I suffer from moderate anxiety - meaning that I am generally able to cope, but that overwhelming situations can make it more severe- and I hate not being in control of a situation. I rely heavily on organising and planning complex situations - such as this move - and I immediately feel uneasy when I don’t know what’s going on or when things don’t go to plan.

In my defence, loving being in control of things runs in my family. My mum will remind me of birthdays or events like a week before they even arrive (and another reminder on the day for good measure), and my grandmother is an event planning/organising guru - never missing a single detail. A million questions get asked so not a single piece of information goes unacknowledged.

The thing is, these aren’t even bad traits to have - quite the contrary. But - when you take a control freak and add a pinch of anxiety, a dash of hypertension, a sprinkle of cheeky panic attacks and finish it all off with a big, fat, unpredictable mess of that needs to be organised and that keeps on changing - it’s not surprising that you end up with a huge sh*t show.

However, somewhere along the way - probably on my thousandth meltdown - I got exhausted from being so tightly wound all the time. I’m still unsure what the hell happened. Maybe I finally snapped and actually am in serious need of help - but recently, I don’t let anything worry me anymore. If you can relate to spending most of your life obsessing, worrying and having crippling anxiety over outcomes to events that haven’t even happened yet, maybe you can understand how oddly peaceful and calm I’ve been feeling lately. It’s a weird and unfamiliar feeling, but I like it so far.

I literally just stopped worrying. That’s it. That’s the secret. Thanks for reading.

I’m kidding. Telling people to “stop worrying” should be considered an act of terrorism, along with telling people to “stop being depressed” and saying “Rah, that’s mad” when they open up to you.

I really wish I had a step-by-step guide to magically reduce everyone’s stress-levels and anxiety that I could share here, but I feel that a lot of reasons for stress or lack of control of a situation vastly differ, and definitely require situation-specific methods of coping. However, you might find it helpful to consider these few points next time you feel overwhelmed and like you’ve lost control of a situation that keeps escalating:

Identify what exactly is worrying you about not being in control.

That is, besides the obvious reason that you’re not in control. Why does it bother you that you don’t know exactly what is going to happen? Where does your desperate need for comfort in unpredictability stem from?

For me, this is definitely the hardest part. Being brutally self-confrontational about things like this often uncover a much deeper underlying issue that might be triggering to think about. (Unfortunately, it is a vital part of understanding and knowing yourself - you might want to consider going to counselling to be able to work through the issues. I’ll be doing a post about this at some stage as well). This is the hardest part of the process - once you have at least a vague understanding of the underlying issue, the rest of it should be a lot easier.

Understand that you choose how to react to situations.

You may have read before that although we can’t dictate how we feel, we can decide our reaction to our feelings. This has become so abundantly clear to me lately that I even feel silly for ever letting myself cry and get stressed out over things.

I get it, though. Certain situations hit so hard that it feels like kicking off is the only way to react to it. For example - we found an amazing flat a while back that would’ve been perfect. The location was amazing, it had a beautiful view, great room sizes… all of that. I really started envisioning my life there and planning how I was going to arrange my bedroom, my route to work, what gym to join, and so on an so forth. Long story short - the agency turned out to be scam after we did some research, so we ended up not being able to take it.

The thing is, when I think about it now and write about it it’s embarrassingly clear that it wasn’t really that deep. The appropriate response would have been to take the L quietly, let go of all the plans I had made and continue on with the flat search, with confidence that we would eventually find something. But oh no - because things weren’t going to plan, I really felt like I had to go all out with the theatrics. I cried on the phone to my mum, kept staring at the pictures of the bedroom I had gotten so excited to design and spent numerous hours in bed staring at the ceiling, feeling sorry for myself (I was jobless. Don’t you dare judge me).

The point is that although it felt like the only way to react at the time, in truth I made the conscious decision to react to the problem in such a tragic and embarrassing manner. If I had the chance to go back to the situation knowing what I know now, I would have decided to force that flat out of my mind, and use the hours I wasted having a self-induced nervous breakdown proactively doing some more flat hunting. At least I can comfort myself with knowing that I’ll never let myself dwell on things that can’t be changed ever again.

Ask yourself if worrying is going to change the outcome.

Is giving yourself hypertension, losing sleep and obsessing about the potential outcomes while you’re waiting to see how the situation pans out going to magically change the final result?

Spoiler alert: No. It doesn’t.

Don’t get me wrong, wondering what’s going to happen next and mentally preparing a backup plan if worst comes to worst isn’t the issue here. The problem is unnecessarily placing yourself under a lot of additional pressure for literally no reason whatsoever. As mentioned above, you can either choose to let your emotions get the best of you, or you can choose to acknowledge your emotions and then put them to the side while you’re trying to figure out the solution. Which brings me to the next point...

Ask yourself if there is any action you can take to affect the outcome in your favour.

When you assess the situation, analyse whether there is anything concrete you can do that will/can give you the desired outcome.

If there is - brilliant. Proceed with figuring out the specifics of this, remembering to be level-headed, logical and calm. Do said thing. Win. Be great.

If not - refer back to previous points again, and wait to see how the situation pans out. Hopefully, when the outcome becomes clear, there will be something within your power to do!

Honourable mention: find ways to laugh about the situation.

You’ve probably heard the saying “A problem shared is a problem halved”. This is extremely true in this case - taking all the stress and pressure and having a one hour rant about it in therapy really helped me find an outlet for how I was feeling, and hearing from someone on the outside of my life that I’m not crazy for having meltdowns was extremely comforting.

However, as much as therapy aided me in normalising my thoughts and emotions, I’m so grateful that I was not alone in this situation and could laugh about it with somebody else. The amount of times I’d call Vanessa on the brink of tears from stress and end up spending an hour just busting up about how messy the situation was and how absurd everything was is actually mad. As you might have realised from my style of writing about my problems - making jokes and being sarcastic really helps me to cope with a lot of hard things going on in my life. Being able to look back on a situation after it’s done and see the funny side is great, but being able to see the hilarity of the sh*t when you’re neck deep in it is even better. Furthermore… laughter literally releases endorphins and has a healing effect on your body, so why wouldn’t you want to laugh instead of being on the brink of a self-induced stroke?

Hopefully there is at least something here that can help you have a more stress-free existence, regardless of the unpredictable turns life has a tendency to terrorise us with at times. Of course, as touched on earlier - learning how to cope with hard situations is usually just the tip of the iceberg. Taking time to understand why you feel so anxious about not having control is imperative for your self-development and improvement.

Anyway. I, for one, refuse to let this calmness and level of being unbothered leave my life again. Consider this post a piece of advice that I’ve *actually* applied to myself.

At least it’s a step in the right direction.

Love,

Liv

#selfhelp #opinions

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deactivated-goddessofice-yuko · 8 years ago

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Hope

ft. @godofthievesemil

‘Today is cold, it’s always is’ - she thought, chuckling to herself. The crippling loneliness is getting onto her is what she usually tells herself when her mind started to wander off to her emotional side.

♢ Click clack ♢

She made her way to the main part of her realm. The realm involves 4 different floating islands, 3 small ones floating around the sides of the main island of the realm. They connects through a long stair way. In the three other islands, it consists of bedrooms and bathrooms for guests, not like she’d ever get any but better come prepared.

♢ Click Clack ♢

The sound echoed around the empty space. Sometimes she wonders if there is a limit to this realm, she never really explored all of it. She was given to by a previous Ice God. He is gone now though but he was a nice man.

♢ Click clack ♢

Sometimes she also wonders what is it like to be a heroic God or Goddess. Sure, she wasn’t evil but she is definitely not the best Goddess as her powers can actually take a person’s life just by touching them.

♢ Click clack ♢

She rubbed her hands. Sometimes she wonders what is it like to be warm. She could definitely feel physical touch but she is always cold. She always wonders how humans feel when they experience hot, cold and neutral weather, she can’t feel them, she could only feel cold.

♢ Click Clack ♢

She fixed her dress, the sizzling sound in the main island notified to her that someone was there, in the kitchen. Emil was the first one that came to mind, he usually crashes over. He crashes over to any God or Goddess’s house or realm really. Different from other God or Goddess that might feel that it is unpleasant, she finds it comforting that he visits once in a while. She needs someone to interact with.

♢ Click Clack ♢

She reached the end of the long icy stairway and made it into the kitchen, the main kitchen. “Hey!~ I made some for you too!” - Emil said. She put on a smile before walking towards the God of Thieves. Compared to her, he is pretty young.

♢ Click Clack ♢

She settled down on the icy diner table, the pasted on smile as usual. “Oh wow~ your food is really tasty! Come over more often if you can~” - she said, smiling. She should probably stop doing that, she knows she should stop doing it. Lying.

♢ Click Clack ♢

The sound of the cutlery touching the plate as Emil sat across the table. Sometimes she wonders if other Gods and Goddesses could feel cold. Her realm is full of nothing but ice, even some of her food are ice yet Emil is eating, sitting and talking like it’s nothing. Maybe he is cold, maybe she should lend him a jacket. She shook off the idea, the jacket would be frozen too anyway.

♢ Click Clack ♢

She smiled as Emil started telling her about the things that he saw, the things that he did that day. It was nice to listen, in a way she would say she enjoys listening to others rather than speaking to them half of the time. Sometimes she wonders if they would listen to her if she tells them there is something she wanted to vent about. She shrugged it off, of course they would, she shouldn’t be thinking of something like that.

♢ Click Clack ♢

“Heey, Hey. Yuko. Are you okay there?” - Emil asked loudly from across the table, waving his hand in front of Yuko. She flinched, staring at the God sitting in front of her. “I apologize, I zoned out for a moment there. Did you say anything important that I need to know?” - she asked. He shook his head, munching on the frozen apple in his hand. “Not really but anything you need to tell me about? I talked to Otabek a while back and from what they told me, you don’t seem to be fine.”.

♢ Click Clack ♢

She clicked her nails onto each other as she got nervous. She know she shouldn’t be, Emil is a friend, a weirdly close friend because of how often he visits. Emil kept on pushing, he knew something was up, he know way too well that Yuko would lie about herself to not bothers others even if it means her problem would get worst.

♢ Click Clack ♢

Emil tapped his nail onto the icy table, waiting for Yuko to response. Most of the Gods and Goddesses know it, they know how easily nervous and awkward Yuko is when it comes to herself, she cares too much about others to start naturally talk about how she feels. He gave her time to collect her thoughts, something she incredibly appreciate.

♢ Click Clack ♢

She put down the fork and spoon and she didn’t use, staring at the God that have been waiting for her. “Emil.. I’m not fine.” she admitted. He wasn’t surprised, no one would by that matter. “My powers are weaker than before, my body have melted more than before” - he admitted, he nodded, listening to the Goddess.

♢ Click Clack ♢

The sound of her finger tapping on the glass echoed around the realm. “Maybe they hate me. The humans. They did many things, turn many Gods and Goddesses such as Goddess of anger, God of the sun, you, ect stronger while unconsciously slowly killing God and Goddesses such as Goddess of the Sea, Goddess of Nature and I to name a few..” - she sighed. He nodded. “I used to be fully natural Emil.. I used to be a full Ice Goddess, my body was nothing but ice. But now all I have is a curse and a pair of ice legs.”

♢ Click Clack ♢

She gathered the plate in front of her, along with the unused pair of fork and spoon that Emil gave to her. “I have faith in human, I really do. I do know that they’ll find a way to fix it, to bring the world back to its natural balance, give me back my own body.. It’s just hard when you are slowly melting away Emil.” - she stood up, putting the clean cutlery in the cupboard, the plate in the sink. “I miss Charlie..” - she said quietly, her voice slightly shaken. If she could cry, she would definitely cry at the mention of her pet. “I’m sorry he.. is gone that way.” - Emil comforted.

♢ Click Clack ♢

The plate was placed carefully in the sink as she took a deep breath. “My curse.. or is it just what all Ice Gods have and I am just the only one that can’t suppress it? You’re supposed to have strong will, skilled skill set, be optimistic. What am I doing wrong? Am I not strong enough? Am I not skilled enough? Am I not happy enough? Is it really my fault my curse stuck on me but not the other previous Ice God?”. Her hands holding onto the side of the sink, holding herself up.

♢ Click Clack ♢

She turned to face Emil again. There it was, her pasted on smile. “I’m sorry, that was just the loneliness in this realm that got to me” - she smiled. They talked for a bit more. She would be lying if she said Emil’s encouraging words didn’t help. She did feel better. But it won’t fix it. It won’t fix what happened and she knows about it pretty well.

♢ Drip Drop ♢

Her eyes leaked, drops of water fell out. Why? She watched them fall, defeated. Is it really that time? Does the time she has left is really running that thin? There is so much she wanted to do, needed to do, have to do. Emil was gone by that time. How embarrassing would that be? Having someone else see your eyes leaked? See you cry.

♢ Click Clack ♢

She made her way back into one of the three small islands of the realm, looking through the mirror to see what other Gods are doing. Such fun things. Dating, swimming, hanging out, talking, kissing, hugging, dancing, singing, helping. Her eyes leaked more and more. I want to swim, I want to dance, I want to help people, I want to hug people, I want to.. but I know I can’t. So many things she can’t do. Maybe that’s why this is happening to her. Maybe that’s why humans hated so many things that involved her.

♢ Drip Drop ♢

♢ Click Clack ♢

♢ Drip Drop ♢

♢ Click Clack ♢

She walked around the room, rubbing her hands, her eyes leaked out nonstop. I am worthless, people hates me. I worth something, people loves me. I am a monster, they are terrified of me. I am an Ice Goddess, people come to the coldest land just to see me. I am useless, I can’t even do anything right. I am useful, so much things I have done for every human I saw.

• ♢ •

Silent. She calmed down. She stopped her eyes from leaking. She checked her legs, they are still intact. Why? Maybe there is still hope out there? Or maybe this is just temporary until something happen and she fully melted away. Maybe that’s what happened to the previous Ice God?

•

((I like to make my muse suffer and I’m cliche af. I kno.))

• I know you said that. But you know far too well he won’t come back the same. You killed him. He is gone forever now. My Charlie. •

#goddessofice-yuko #yoi #yuri on ice #writing #drabble #100 followers celebration #lore #au #god au #god/goddess au #godoftheivesemil #DidyouknowYuko

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datingadviceonreddit · 8 years ago

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Hey all, Max here.Back on my post on how to attract women naturally without approaching or trying-hard a little white ago, I got a lot of comments and guys reaching out to me asking me more about how to overcome negative thoughts around women that they're attracted to.So I created a guide with some more details on my perspective about this particular topic.Who Is This Guide For?One of the most common relationship problems that I hear from entrepreneurs and other creative types is that when they’re around a women they are really attracted, their mind gets flooded with negative thoughts.Around a woman you’re attracted to, have you ever… * Lost your calm and confidence that you had before you saw her? * Wanted to feel important and attractive to her? * Wanted to feel more powerful, more real, and more present around her? * Felt like you can’t get any words out when you’re wanting to tell her how you feel about her? * Beat yourself up for “screwing up” and feel like you blew it with the women you’re most attracted to?And...have you tried to learn different techniques to shift your mindset and improve your confidence so you could push through it, but once you got the smallest signal of disinterest (like her looking away), the negative thoughts would come storming back?If so, then this guide is for you.In this guide, I’m going to share with you some quick tips on how to overcome negative thoughts around attractive women and help you feel more powerful, more real, and more present around them.But first...I want to share a bit about my past when it came to women.Failing At "Success" - Flipping the Script from External Success to Internal FulfillmentGrowing up, I always felt a little...different. Not in a bad way, but in a black sheep kind of way.I knew that I had big things to do in the world. I knew I was smart, and I knew things that other people didn’t know.I had big things out for me, but there was one thing that I struggled with the most:Women.I was running a business, I was working out, I was studying personal development. On the surface it looked like I had my shit together…But on the inside I still had a lot of negative self-judgment, worries, and anxieties that were crippling to my day-to-day life.I can recall a lot of embarrassing and awkward times...but I’ll share with you one story that shifted the whole way I looked at thingsI remember going to a library with the intent of picking up a woman and practicing my approaching skills. I entered the library, and sat down at a table. Across the library there was one of the most attractive girls I had ever seen in my life.And so I sat in my seat with the intention of going up to her...my palms were sweaty, and then all of the negative thoughts started to pop up.What is she going to think? Am I going to be creepy? What am I going to say?I literally went up to a bookshelf and pretended to read while my nerves calmed down...at least to the point where I could actually think.I’d usually come up with a ton of reasons why I shouldn’t talk to her but this time I talked myself INTO it.I took a deep breath and walked up to her table...“Are you using this chair?”She said, “no go ahead and take it.”I said cool, thanks, and sat down in the chair at the table she was sitting at.I said “I don’t care about the chair I just wanted to come over and say I think you’re really attractive and I wanted to get to know you.”This was the first time I ever tried some kind of “pickup line” or some guide on how to approach women.I remember fumbling over my words, I was SO nervous. I literally couldn’t even get a word out.I knew that she could feel that from me.Regardless I kept going, and asked her for her phone number. I got it, we chatted for a bit, and then I left.Even though it was technically a “success” because I gave it a shot when I normally wouldn’t, I felt awkward as fuck. I was anxious, nervous, sweating, my heart was racing.I texted her later that day, and she never texted me back.I was left feeling like a failure. I didn’t feel like a failure for not picking her up per se.But I felt like a failure because it didn’t feel like ME that was speaking to her. I was anxious, not my usual confident self, not my genuine self, and it bothered me.It felt contrived, and try-hard, and it wasn’t really me.I already had so much going for me...All I really wanted now was 1) deep connection with women and 2) feeling comfortable in my own skin. The approaching women thing sounded cool. The thought of being able to “attract any girl I could see” appealed to my ego, but in the end those techniques and ways of thinking only left me more disconnected from myself and perpetuated negative thoughts, even when I had some type of external success.One day it dawned on me that I was never going to feel comfortable in my own skin or around women if I was always focusing on what was happening “out there.”I flipped the script and started to focus on my own internal landscape, rather than focusing on the woman in particular. Then I started to understand my emotions, my judgments, and my fears in a way that I could actually start to influence them.I could be around women without feeling paralyzed by anxiety, fear, and self-judgment. I could just be.And that’s what allowed me to go on dates, meet my girlfriends, and develop relationships where I felt deeply connected, appreciated, and loving.And so in this quick guide, I’m going to share with you a step-by-step process that you can use to help overcome negative thinking and become more present, real, and connected with the women in your life.Let’s get started.Where Negative Thoughts Come FromThe first thing in this process of overcoming negative thoughts around women is to understand where negative thoughts come from.In a gist, negative thoughts come from fears that are real, but not true.Meaning that they come from fears that exist, however these fears are not a “complete story”.Fears are incomplete stories that we adopt from a multitude of different sources: the media, our parents, our friend circle, societal scripts, and past generations within our bloodline.What I mean by incomplete stories is that the fear literally comes from a story, in our mind, that hasn’t been finished. Therefore the story isn’t completely true.For example…A common fear among men is the fear of being creepy.If the man is exhibiting any behavior that could be considered creepy, he’ll get anxiety and self-judgment around it. This behavior could even be something like saying “hi” to a woman he doesn’t even know, or even looking at her from afar.This fear of being creepy will prevent a man from feeling at ease, as every single behavior that would come close to looking creepy would be avoided. In the case of looking at a woman, a man would feel creepy just to even look around the room that he’s standing in!But let’s look more closely at the fear of being creepy, and let’s see what incomplete story it’s telling us and finish it.If I look at a woman across the room, then I’m creepyIf I’m creepy then that woman will think I’m weird and won’t like meIf that woman thinks I’m weird and won’t like me, then I won’t attract that womanIf I won’t attract that woman, then I’ll never attract a woman and I won’t be okay.That’s the main fear story that men tell themselves around this.Now if we look at the end of the story, you’ll see some things that aren’t true.“If I won’t attract that woman, then I’ll never attract a woman.”That’s simply not true. There’s plenty of women, and to say that you won’t attract a woman for the rest of your life is myopic and unrealistic...unless you’re living in a remote cave by yourself for your lifetime.And most importantly…“I won’t be okay.”This is the end of the fear story that keeps negative thoughts and judgments locked in the mind.If X doesn’t happen, then I won’t be okay.This is untrue.Have you ever gotten anxious, nervous, acted weird, and embarrassed yourself in front of a woman or someone else?If you have, and if you’re ready this guide and have a place to sleep and have food to eat..then are you NOT okay?It’s the common misbelief that we won’t be okay if something painful happens - if we get rejected, laughed at, judged by other people, etc.Now I’d like to note: it is impossible to AVOID rejection, to AVOID getting laughed at, to AVOID being judged by other people as these are events not in your control.It’s the trying to control people’s behavior and emotions, including your own, that gives negative thoughts their energy.And so if you re-write the ending of that story, then it’d probably be something like this…If I look at a woman across the room, there’s a chance she’ll think I’m creepy.If she thinks I’m creepy then she’ll run away from me, but if there’s energy there it’ll create a spark…If she runs away then she just did me a favor and didn’t waste my time, but if she comes closer then there’s an opportunity for deeper connection…If we connect on a deeper level great, if not, great.Now I’m sure you’ve all heard the advice “be positive” or “there’s so many fish in the sea” or whatever-the-fuck super-positive mantra. On a conceptual level it makes sense, but the question isn’t how do you understand, it’s how to you EMBODY? How does your BODY understand on an experiential level?That’s when things start to shift.But for now in this section, all I wanted to get across was that by completing the story in a true way, you then give SPACE for the anxious thoughts and self-judgment to leave your body. It doesn’t mean it’s not going to still be there at this point, but essentially you just created a door for that fear to leave your mind.This space is key, and what’s next is learning to EMBODY this and get the fear to leave your mind.A Step-By-Step On How To Overcome Negative ThoughtsSo now that you understand that completing the story will give space for the fear/self-judgment/negative thoughts to leave, now you have to kick that fucker out.You can understand conceptually that you’ll be okay if you look creepy or fumble over your words, but until your body knows that you’ll be okay afterwards, it’s still going to take up some of your mental attention and bandwidth.If you pinpoint a story for a perpetual negative thought, that’s great news because you became aware of it. Fear, in the light of awareness and understanding, dissolves.Now the real test comes from letting your body eliminate any emotional “charges” that were caused by the fear-based story. What I mean by this is that a fear-based story, one that causes judgment, anxiety, nervousness, etc, holds those emotions in the body and stores it as a “charge’.When you re-write the story and see the truth and possibility in a new ending, you give space for that charge to “blow up”, in a sense, and leave your body.For example...think of a mine field.If you had to play a game of soccer in a field full of landmines...how could you play?You’d be freaking out the whole time, wondering if you were gonna trip over a mine and die...so the only way to ”play” would be to tip-toe around in a state of nervousness, anxiety, and negative thoughts about dying.But think of another option…What if, before you played on the field, you could just blow up all the landmines...and then play a game of soccer afterwards, without worrying about if there’s a landmine there or not?That’s what you’re doing by “blowing up” the emotional charges that was held from a fear-based story.You’re saying “fuck this, I’m not willing to try to play on a soccer field full of mines anymore. Let’s get this shit over with, blow up these mines, and then that’ll give me more space to play and do what I want to do.” Sounds like a better option, right?So how do you blow up those landmines that causing negative thoughts in your mind?You re-write the story in your mind, and then you trust that possibility while you let your body eliminate the old one.For example, if you have a negative thought about being creepy around women for looking at them, and then you judge yourself afterwards for feeling creepy, here’s what you do:Re-write the story (see the example above)Next time you’re with a woman and you’re feeling creepy, remember the new ending that you re-wrote.Let yourself be creepy as fuck (because who cares?)** Let yourself do/feel/whatever until your body feels “clear” and stableNow that you know you could handle “being creepy” and your body felt that you were okay afterwards, now you can let go of the unfinished fear-based story (which causes that emotion) and replace it with the new story you just created.**NOTE: Don’t take this the wrong way by thinking it gives you license to hurt or sexually assault women.What To Do From HereAfter applying the methodology above, it may take some time for the negative thoughts to subside.Think of the mind like a crashing wave - it still crashes and leaves sediment on the beach.If you still hear negative thoughts, just let them pass and pay attention to any place within yourself that’s wanting to modify your own behavior to avoid a “landmine”.Now I think this important to mention - negative thoughts, especially around women, can be quite intricate and confusing creatures. What I presented here was a primer to understanding where they’re coming from, and this isn’t a “one-trick-pony” to overcome all negative thoughts, forever.Some negative thoughts may still be persistent and difficult to overcome simply by reading a guide on the Internet. Regardless, my hope is that this guide can offer some possibility and spark some self-inquiry that can help you down your own path of personal freedom.Best regards,MaxTLDR; Re-write the ending to your fear's story. Bleed out the emotional charge by letting go of behavioral modification in yourself and others. Re-frame your beliefs to get your neural pathway to adapt the new story. via /r/dating_advice

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