#GRABBING MYSELF AND SHAKING MYSELF BY THE SHOULDERS

[mariasont]

Be So Stupid - S.R

a/n: this has been sitting in my WIPs for so long and i finally finished it! now going to reward myself with online shopping xoxo

kind of inspired by when jj and reid split up in season 2 i think? when morgan was kinda being rude to her but i picture like season 12-13 spence

masterlist

pairings: spencer reid x fem!reader

summary: you make a mistake while on a case nearly getting spencer killed, morgan has some choice words and spencer is ready to beat his ass over it

warnings: morgan being a little shit simply for the plot, mention of spencer almost dying, spencer being a protective king pussy boss

wc: 1.4k

How could you be so stupid?

Those were the words that had been on replay, a constant loop, for the past two days. It's because, somewhere inside, you knew Morgan was justified in what he said. How could you have been so stupid to split up with Spencer at the unsubs house?

He was taken by the unsub, a trigger pull away from death. But the team got there, and he was okay. He was alive and breathing and healthy, and you tried to focus on these facts when your chest tightened with that familiar agonizing twinge.

It was a relief not to face anyone afterward. As soon as you got home from the case, you holed yourself up in your apartment, obsessively dissecting the events until the recollections twisted your insides with a nauseating sense of dread. You had run through every potential scenario in your head, agonizing over the grim outcomes if you hadn't arrived when you did.

You would've never forgiven yourself.

So here you were, hiding out in Penelope's lair, doing your paperwork. You convinced yourself it wasn't hiding; rationalizing it as a need for more peace and quiet than the bullpen could offer. You knew it was bullshit, and so did Garcia.

"Just so you know, I'm fully prepared to kick his ass on your behalf," she announced, swiveling to face her monitors, the ribbons in her hair trailing her movement like colorful comets. "It was totally uncalled for. Everyone agrees."

"Everyone?"

"Well, okay, not Spencer, but that's only because he doesn't know," Garcia continued, her pen tapping a silent code against her cheek, followed by the clack of keys. "If he did, he'd definitely kick his ass."

"I don't know about that," you said, repeatedly stretching and releasing the hair tie around your wrist, each snap a self-inflicted reprimand.

"He called you stupid." She was shaking her head so vigorously her blonde locks tumbled into her eyes as she paused her typing to look at you. "And you, my gorgeous friend, are anything but."

"Generally speaking, sure, but this time, Pen, I really screwed up."

"Who called you stupid?"

Spencer's voice was incredibly hard to ignore, distinct—you would recognize it anywhere.

Garcia and you stopped dead, your eyes growing impossibly large as she gave you a look as if to say, Morgan is screwed.

"No one."

"Morgan."

You and Garcia blurt your words out at the same time, your voices clashing in the air. You whipped your head to Garcia, the betrayal written on your face as she only shrugged her shoulders.

"Why would he say that to you?"

Spencer's steps towards you were measured, but each one amplified your unease, you hands wringing together as you looked away. He could read you like a book, and most times that was a good thing, but today it was definitely not.

"It's really not a big deal, Spencer," you insisted, pursing you lips as you dragged your gaze up and over him. "But how about you? How are you holding up?"

You were on your feet in an instant, a little too quickly, wobbling on your heel just a tab before Spencer grabbed your elbow. You ignore his touch, or at least you try, and press the back of your hand to his forehead.

He wasn't warm, but you sure were.

"You know, I don't think you should be back at work so soon."

You weren't lying when you said that. It seemed to soon. Was he looking a little pale? You couldn't tell. He should be home.

His hand was suddenly around your wrist, soft but firm, easing you away from his forehead, his eyes narrowing at you.

"Hey, I'm alright." He was trying to be assuring, offering a faint smile that only served to make your stomach do backflips. "Really, I am."

His fingers frapped around your wrist, not quite letting go, as he directed his attention to Garcia. "Why did he say that to her?"

"I'm right here," you grumbled under your breath, but Spencer was paying you no mind.

"I'm aware," Spencer answered without looking at you as his hands found their way to your shoulders, thumbs tracing absent patterns on your skin. "But you are not providing any answers."

Garcia cut in, folding her arms over her chest as her eyes pinned you with an unspoken accusation. "He said it because you two split up on the case."

Her words seemed to thicken the air itself, snatching away the previous ease as Spencer's expression darkened. It was a new and unsettling sight--the tightness in his jaw, the faint crease in his brows, and the steely sharpness in his eyes.

Without uttering a single syllable, he spun on his heel and strode out the door. You didn't hesitate to chase after him, an inkling of his destination propelling you forward. The look on his face had planted a seed of fear about what he was going to do.

Sure enough, there he was, just as you anticipated, in the middle of the bull pit. His gaze locked on Morgan with a laser-like precision, like a hawk eyeing its prey.

"How could you say that to her?" His voice was jagged, hands thumping against Morgan's shoulders in a way that you frantically looked around for Hotch. "What? Were you trying to make her feel bad? What's the matter with you?"

"Easy, Spencer, what are you getting at?" Morgan's hands went up defensively. But when Spencer's eyes flickered to you, the puzzle pieces clicked into place. "Oh..."

Morgan's eyes found yours. "Come here, sugar."

Morgan was your friend, a good one at that, and you really didn't blame him for what he said. He had good intentions. But here in the bullpen being open and exposed you found yourself stalling, glancing towards Spencer.

Only after he gave you a nod did you take that tentative step forward, clammy palms running down your pants as you stood in front of Morgan.

"Look, I was out of line. Calling you stupid was stupid of me," he started, hand grabbing on your upper arm as he spoke. "We've all been in tough spots and I was an asshole for adding to the pressure instead of helping you through it."

And you knew he meant it, even if it took Spencer nearly coming to blows to bring it about. 

"It's okay, I know you didn't mean it, Morgan. And it was my fault really, for not staying with Spencer."

"First off, we made that call together, so if anyone's at fault, it's both of us," Spencer reminded, his hand settling on your lower back as he moved closer to you. His gaze then drilled into Morgan. "And second, Morgan, she's too nice. I say you owe her a month's work of paperwork at least."

You opened your mouth to object, but Morgan cut you off, his hand on your shoulder stopping me mid-breath. "After what I said? I'll do you one better--I'll handle your paperwork for two months."

He was gone before you could even thank him, making his way towards the break room, leaving you and Spencer.

"Hey, look at me." You did, raising your eyes to meet his. "What happened on that last case—it's not on you. We made a call, and we did it with the best intentions. It's not your fault."

He regarded you so... softly. It stirred a flutter of goosebumps across your skin, your hands rubbing up and down your arms as if to smooth away the sensation.

"Seeing you in that situation, so close to..." You paused, drawing in a ragged breath as the sickening memories came flooding back. "I can't help but feel responsible. It's a tough guilt to shake."

He rearranged a lock of hair behind your ear. 

"It's a cognitive distortion to assume sole responsibility, but that's just your brain tricking you." Taking your hand he pressed it over his heart. "A human heart beats over two billion times in a lifetime. And every beat right now is telling you, I'm all good."

You could feel his heartbeat—thump, thump—against your palm. You caught yourself wanting to know what it would be like to fall asleep to the sound.

You were so close to each other now, the distance, or lack thereof, slightly overwhelming. "You're all good?"

He gave your hand a squeeze. "I'm all good."

You remained motionless, hand pressed to his chest, wondering if your heart could ever beat in sync with his.

taglist: @hotchhner @khxna @readergf @sarcasm-and-stiles @edencherries @aurorsworld @princess76179 @malindacath

[n0tamused]

Hello there! I hope you’re doing good in terms of exams and remember to take breaks in between studying!!

I have a request but please feel free to leave it or skip over this one if you’re not up for it!

I was wondering if you could write how Jiyan and Aalto (separately) would react to soldier!reader who’s known to be always comforting others + helping people but in this situation finds the reader hidden somewhere and having a breakdown due to mental and physical exhaustion (but struggles to ask for help)?

A/N: Thank you anon, I try to keep that in mind at all times <3 And I hope you enjoy this!

Contents: angst to comfort fluff, panic attack, gn reader, not proof read

Jiyan:

Days have passed and what felt like years have built up in a tight ball that lodged itself in your throat, preventing the dusty, but much needed, air to fill your lungs. It has been days since it had begun to build up, but with hopes for a better tomorrow you swept it under the rug, letting it fester and multiply to each corner of your being until it had you shackled down onto the floor in this pitiful corner of ruins. The camp wasn’t too far off, you think through broken words flashing through your head, if they need me I’ll be able to hear them. Tears bubbled up to your eyes, stinging and burning. 

It’s been so long since you saw the city, smelled the flowers and felt the touch of your beloved, and nothing in the world could help you escape this feeling of the earth shattering under the soles of your feet. Your vision was blurry, mind spinning and lungs burning and burning. Rationale has long since left you, and you crumbled further, foolishly thinking of insignificant mistakes of your past.

Out of nowhere, a hand sprung up from the blurriness of the world, muddy waters of reflection caching color of teal and yellow and black as the hand grabs your shoulder. Fear engulfs you as you see General Jiyan standing in front of you, although your tears nearly blind you - you could never mistake the signature look of him. You could recognize him blind and deaf.

“J-Jiyan-” you choke, hiding your face away as ragged breaths wreck your body, the body that refused to stand up to greet him. You had no strength, no will. Your ears catch some muddled words and from the corner of your eyes you can see his mouth moving as he spoke, but none of them reach you. It’s hard. So hard to breathe and you’re shaking your head, wanting to ask for help but refusing to do so yet needing to be held.

This dilemma is written all over your face, your shaky fingers and Jiyan goes quiet, realizing the futility of questioning you, and instead he takes the matters in his own hands and sits beside you. His back pressed against the old, cold wall behind the two of you and one of his muscular arms finds its way around your shoulders, bringing you closer into him. Your body can’t resist, even if you wanted to, and it bends to his will, your arms reaching around him in some childish chase of comfort. If your mind was any more calm you would have felt embarrassed, ashamed.

Jiyan stays quiet for a while longer, simply holding you and lending you his company for as much as possible, hoping he or you aren’t called up. Just for a while longer, he says to himself. His hand rubbing up and down your back. As you slowly catch your breath and collect yourself he begins to speak, tone gentle and so full of warmth, he doesn’t want to let you go until you can stand on your own once more, and even then he’d be there to help you walk.

“Deep breaths, (Y/N)... It’s all right now, there’s no danger around us.. you’re safe..”

“You’ve been doing so much for others, yet you neglected yourself for even longer than that. You mustn’t do that…”

“I’m here to support you however I can, for now we can sit here for some time longer, until you’re sure you want to head out”

“Don’t rush yourself, and no need to be embarrassed. I find myself feeling the same as some times, but it is the thought of you that gets me through it all.. You’re human just like the rest of us. I’m here for you.."

Aalto:

What was supposed to be a simple run-in-and-out became much more complicated, the mission stretching on into the night and into the early mornings when the first lights pierced the belly of the sky. Your heart was ringing between your ears, drumming a haunting song that would have you exhausted for days to come. Had it been you alone, you would have considered turning back - no mission was worth losing your life over. But there were team members involved, all of them so close to you. How could you let them go alone, let them get hurt?

It doesn’t matter now. The mission was successful, yet you were still stuck in the memories from so many months ago? Get a hold of yourself - breathe.

Breathe.

I can’t - the little voice squeaks at the back of your head, full of tears and desperation as you walk home from duty. Your legs are barely carrying you up the steps that feel like a serpents winding body, one misstep and you’ll find yourself falling into its mouth. With a fuzzy mind you fight your way to the front door and fall in with stuttering steps, an invisible hand coming to grab you by the throat and choke you until you’re crumbling on the floor. The front door was left ajar for anyone to help themselves too, but that fact escaped you as you found yourself pressing into the foot of your couch, curled up and crying from exhaustion and the aching in your bones. All you can think of is how much more you could have done for them, how much you could’ve done for the mission. 

“(Y/N)? Hey-!” A voice calls from the void, scolding you, sharp and quick but echoing. It calls for you over and over again, and it is not until your body is being turned onto its back that you realize you’re not alone. “Are you alright? Hey, talk to me” The voice finally clears up. It’s not angry or annoyed, but so worried unlike your mind had made you believe. It’s not the voice of the captain but.. Aalto. 

Your eyes blink at him in quick successions, trying to rid themselves of tears while feeling more come up. His gloved hand is supporting the back of your head, the other one feeling your other arm up and down in attempts to comfort you. “Breathe.. breathe.. Come on, up to me, now” he says, gently pulling you up and despite his best attempts to make his tone more lighthearted, he fails miserably. Concern is evident, but he has way more reins on it.

He positions your forehead to rest against his shoulder, tugging your body closer until you are practically in his lap, his arms wrapped around you. “Breathe with me, come on.. in…..and out..” He coaches softly, rubbing your back and then carding his fingers through your hair, and as he feels you shift he lessens his hold - allowing you to slot yourself against him and wrap your arms around him in return. Slowly, Aalto begins to rock you back and forth, his tongue betraying him in this dire situation, so he hopes his presence is enough. After a while he tries to playfully scold you for this behavior, saying how you nearly had his heart stop when he saw you on the floor, but the undertones speak volumes of how seriously this affected him too.

“No, no, you’re not going anywhere yet. You need to take a breather - like I’ve been telling you to do so for months”

“Here, let me help you up. The couch is way more comfortable than the ground.. yeah- that’s it, good job, champ. You’re my champ, y’know?”

“How about I whip us something to drink, hm? You got nothing to worry about, I’ll have it all handled and ready before you can even think about it”

“Do you want to talk about it..? I know it all happened some time ago, but it is clearly holding you down. So tell me what’s on your mind, I’m all ears. You know I can help, in one way or another- but I need to..”

Ⓒ n0tamused. Do not repost, translate, edit, and/or copy any of my works. Likes, comments, and reblogs are appreciated.

[writtensturn]

yes, now. | m.s

PAIRING : matt sturniolo x fem!reader

GENRE : smut!, living together, established relationship.

SUMMARY : you get impatient while waiting for matt to be done playing fortnite with his brothers

!WARNINGS! : use of y/n, smut, foreplay, rough (unprotected) sex, f!ngering, overstim, degradation, cursing.

y/n were sitting there on matt’s bed while she watched him play fortnite with his two brothers, she watched as his hands moved and the way he reacted.

“FUCK, CHRIS ON ME. IM LOW.” matt yelled after almost getting knocked with two health left. she couldn’t help but smirk at his angry reaction, she moved off his bed and walked towards him as his shirt hung to her thighs covering the shorts she had on. she watched as he got shot again and died, she chuckled too herself knowing he wouldn’t be able to hear. she stood behind his chair rubbing his shoulders running his hands up his neck and back down, she watch as he muted his mic and groans at the feeling your hands are causing.

“mm hi baby” he spoke grabbing her hand and pulling her body in front of him, his arms wrap around her waist before pulling her in closer. she chuckled again hearing chris’s mumbles through his headset, she watched as he pulled away and unmuted his mic.

“yeah yeah yeah, i’m rebooted” matt spoke back to him as his hands quickly move back to his controller, her gaze is stuck on the way his hands are moving quickly across the buttons. her smirk grew as you pictured his hands tracing the shape of her body. she felt herself heat up as she watched. matt’s eyes dart towards her watching and grabs her waist moving her to sit on his lap, as he muted his mic again.

“staring now are we?” his voice sent chills down her spine

“couldn’t help myself” she swallowed her nervousness moving along his lap, wrapping her arms around his shoulders as she kissed his temple. moving down his jawline as she placed a kiss on his lips. matt muted his mic again before speaking, not wanting his brothers to hear.

“don’t do that” he spoke his eyes still focused on the screen infront of the two

she smirks again as she shakes her head and moves herself along his lap again

“y/n” matt’s voices deeper and more lustful before continuing “now, really?”

“yes, now.” she said before feeling the member in his pants start to harden, she smirked again moving one of her hands down his shoulder staying on his chest as it moved to his pants. she softly touched the middle of his sweatpants, she listened to his groan feeling the soak in her pants.

she moves off him getting on her knees moving his pants and boxers below just enough to where it pops out, her mouth begins to salivate as she moves her hand up and down swirling the pre cum around his tip. she looks up at matt hearing him moan as he struggles to pay attention to the game infront of him, she reaches for the mic and unmutes it as a smirk begins to plaster on her face. she moves back down as she moves her mouth around his tip swirling her tongue around to tease him, she flattens her tongue and licks from his base back up. she hears him groan from above her. she begins to move her head up and down slowly hearing matt’s breath getting heavier, she feels his hand grab her hair and chris speak from his headset.

“matt what the fuck are you doing?” chris speaks loud enough for her to hear, him obviously noticing matt not being able to stay focused and be as good as he normally is.

“i- uh im gonna get off, i don’t feel good” matt spoke back before clicking out of the game and shutting off his pc.

“you couldn’t wait” he paused before speaking again “needy girl” he brought her arms up as he picked her up and moved them into his bed, before she knew it matt’s lips pressed onto hers. his tongue moving in motion with her own, he pulls away from her mouth kissing along her jawline down to her neck leaving red and purple hickeys down to her collarbone. he moves his hands up her shirt pulling it over her head as he continues to move down his face inbetween her boobs. he reaches from under her to unclip her bra, he moves his hands onto her boobs, his fingertips moving around her sensitive nipples. a moan escaped her lips as matt’s lips continue move down her body to the elastic of her shorts, he rips them off leaving her underwear as he moves inbetween her thighs. his left hand on her tit, his right moving along her waist as his mouth leaves hot kisses in her thighs moving closer to where she needs him most. she moans softly as his breath hits her skin.

“m’re” she mumbles wanting more of him

“use your words angel” matt speaks back enjoying his teasing

“i need you” she says back at him

matt’s smirk grow as he pulls off her underwear without warning as he plants kisses on her sensitive bud, he moves his tongue along her,

“so wet for me already ma” matt mumbled in her while he continued to swirl his tongue against her clit

“mm mhm” she let escape her lips in response as she continued to moan, matt’s lips moves into her more sucking and licking between her lips. he reaches up shoving his fingers into her mouth, she moves her tongue around his fingers sucking on them as he pulls them out and teases her entrance before moving a finger inside. her moans grew louder as he pumped his finger in and out, he kissed along her stomach while adding a second finger into her, her moans echoed the room and rang in matt’s ears as he moved back down to press his tongue in her, catching little glances him enjoying her in pleasure. he moved his tongue along as he curled his fingers in her.

“matt.. baby, i’m gonna” she let out in wines from matt’s quick moves into her

“come for me” matt replied back to her moving at the same pace

she felt the knot in her stomach before she came, matt’s fingers moved slower riding out her high before he took them out rubbing a circle on her entrance. he moved up taking his pants off as he stroked himself before moving ontop of her. she used her hand to guide him into her, her mouth fell open as matt moved into her slowly.

“matt” she gasped at him stretching her out

“too much?” he said looking down at her glistening eyes

“no baby you can move” she replied removed her hand from her thigh

matt began thrusting his hips as he moved in and out of her, he pressed his lips back onto hers. his sloppy kisses moving along her as he moaned into her mouth, his pace picking picking up as he held one of her legs against him. her moans became louder as he pounded into her.

“such a good girl for taking me” matt spoke into her moving against her, quicker this time. her moans growing louder as his followed behind

“harder matty please” she spoke out her nails leaving marks in his back

matt quickly picked up the pace his breath quick and got against her skin, she felt him move as she tightened around him.

“i’m gonna cum y/n” matt said into her ear

“come inside me, please” she begged as she was close again too, she moaned once last time louder than the others as she came and feeling matt’s load painting her walls white, he moved slower in her riding out eachothers high. her breaths began to come back to her as she whimpers as he pulled out of her. and rolled next to her.

“i love you” matt said with a smile kissing her once again

“i love you too” she smiled tracing his jawline with her fingers

“i’m gonna go get a towel, don’t move” matt smiled rolling out of bed going into the bathroom to clean her up, even if she wanted to she probably couldn’t move, her legs already feeling sore. she sighed knowing it’ll be worse tomorrow, she heard her phone ding and grabbed it from the nightstand before looking it with her eyes wide.

[chiabeanz]

Safehouse Sanctuary

summary: bucky barnes x reader drabble - tending injuries and nightmares 😌 (830 words)

-

You and Bucky Barnes stumble into the safehouse, a luxurious apartment hidden away in the heart of the city. You wince as you close the door behind you, the adrenaline from the mission wearing off and leaving you acutely aware of the sharp pain in your arm and the throbbing in your forehead.

Without a word, you and Bucky fall into a practiced routine, scanning the apartment for any signs of danger. You move through the space with careful precision, peering into corners and behind furniture, checking every nook and cranny. Bucky mirrors your movements on the opposite side of the apartment, his combat instincts as sharp as ever.

"We're clear," Bucky finally says, with you replying “Same here.” before putting the flashlight away.

"Great," you mutter, heading towards the kitchen where you know the med kit is stored. You pull it out from the cabinet and sit at the island, examining the laceration on your arm. The cut is not too deep but unfortunately hurts every time you move your arm which is very annoying. Your forehead wound isn’t as bad, but it still stings.

You start cleaning the wound, the antiseptic making you take a deep breath. The gauze and tape are ready on the counter, but as you fumble with the roll of tape, it gets on your last remaining nerve. Frustration bubbles up inside you, and you grab the offending roll, throwing it across the room where it hits the wall and bounces away.

Bucky watches this with a raised eyebrow. "It's not the tape's fault," he comments, his tone almost teasing.

"I know." you reply, annoyed and raising your voice more than you wish you did.

He approaches you, his demeanor softening. "Here, let me help."

"I don't need your help," you snap, more out of frustration with yourself than with him. "I can do it myself." That was uncalled for. You close your eyes and take a deep breath before replying more composedly. “I’m serious. I can do it myself.”

"I know you can," he replies calmly. "But you don't have to."

His gentle insistence makes you relent. He takes the tape and begins to expertly dress your wound, his touch surprisingly gentle. You watch him work, the furrow of concentration on his brow softening his usually stern features.

"Thanks," you murmur as he finishes, securing the bandage with a final piece of tape. "Are you hurt?"

He shakes his head slightly. "You're the one who pushed me out of the way. I only have a few small cuts that'll heal in a few hours anyway. You shouldn't have done that."

"If I didn't push you out of the way, they might've shot your ass," you retort. "Super fast healing powers or not, a bullet is more uncomfortable than a small cut."

He gives a small, almost reluctant smile. "Fair point but never do something like that ever again."

You scoff as you get up and walk to the mirror in the hallway, looking at your bandaged arm and the small cut on your forehead. With a wry smile, you say, "There goes the beauty pageant backup plan."

You turn to Bucky and ask, "What do you think?"

"Breathtaking," he deadpans, his expression unreadable. Then he gets up and moves towards the living area, leaving you to process his words.

-

Later that night, you claim the bed while Bucky settles on the floor, insisting that he doesn't need much to sleep. Despite the comfort of the bed, you find yourself lying awake, listening to the sounds of the city outside and Bucky's steady breathing below.

Suddenly, his breathing changes, quickening and becoming more erratic. You hear him mutter something unintelligible, his body twitching in the throes of a nightmare. Without hesitation, you slide out of bed and kneel beside him, gently shaking his shoulder.

"Bucky." you whisper urgently. "Hey."

His eyes snap open, wild and unfocused, but they soften as they meet yours. You notice the way his gaze briefly flickers to your arm, guilt shadowing his features. He sits up, running a hand through his hair, still breathing heavily.

"You okay?" you ask, concern evident in your voice.

He nods, though he looks haunted. "Yeah. Just... old memories."

You reach out to comfort him, but as your hand accidentally brushes his, he flinches away. The gesture is subtle but tells you everything. He’s afraid of hurting you.

"You didn't hurt me," you assure him softly. "In fact, you used these hands to tend to my injuries a few hours ago remember?” He looks at you, searching your face for any sign of fear. Finding none, he visibly relaxes, though the guilt doesn't completely leave his eyes.

"I know you think the floor is fine, but I don't," you say, trying to lighten the mood. "We're both adults. You should sleep on the bed. We can put a pillow between us if that makes it more digestible." For a moment, he looks like he might argue, but then he nods. "Alright."

The extra pillow, however, is never put down. Bucky settles in beside you, not too close but not too far either, his presence surprisingly comforting. Sleep finally claims you both, the knowledge that you have each other bringing a measure of peace in an otherwise tumultuous world.

-

A/N: Idea came from a dream btw thank you R.E.M

[042502]

₊ ⊹ sumarry. You're Matt's girlfriend, but you fuck Chris.

₊ ⊹ content. Infidelity, inappropriate language, dirty talk, boob sucking, and obscene descriptions.

₊ ⊹ author's note. My first language is not English, if you notice any errors you already know why. If you want to read more about the boys, I leave you the m.list here.

I move away a little to keep him away, he was getting too close. I shake my head. I put my legs on the couch so he doesn't come closer.

"I didn't tell you to come and I didn't force you to watch the movie with me," I say and he's looking at me too much.

"No, but you let me in anyway," he comes closer and I walk away again. I'm starting to get nervous. "Why do you go away?"

He ends up cornering me in a corner of the couch, my back touching the edge of the armrest. I put my hands on his chest, stopping him when he spreads my legs and gets between them.

"Go away" I ask him, looking him in the eyes. He licks his lips and looks first at my mouth and then into my eyes.

"I don't want to" he furrows his eyebrows and bites his lower lip. He was so close that his breath hit my face. "Do you want me to leave?" He asks, bringing his face closer to mine. I don't respond, the words don't come out, my heart just beat hard as if it were going to burst out of my chest. He holds on to the sofa with one hand and with the other he caresses my thigh, he is leaning towards me, he has me cornered between him and the sofa. I look at his mouth and that was enough for him to close the distance, kissing me.

And I couldn't resist.

He began to move his mouth against mine, savoring and enjoying the kiss. And I reciprocated. He squeezed my thigh and grabbed me by the waist, managing to pick me up and change the position, leaving me on top of him while he leaned against the back of the chair. From one moment to the next we separated for a microsecond to take a breath, we looked into each other's eyes and it didn't take long for him to eat my mouth again. More intense. More eager. He pressed me against him with both hands on my ass, squeezing it with his fingers, forcing me to move on him, letting me know how turned on he was. He separates his mouth from mine and slides kisses down my neck, grabbing my hair with one of his hands, pulling my head back. Leaving room to kiss my neck more freely.

At that point I no longer knew what I was doing, I just let myself be carried away by the moment of fever. He lets go of my hair and I bite my lower lip, turning my head forward. He takes the opportunity to lower the straps of my shirt, leaving my tits in the air.

"Mmh" I sighed putting my hands on his shoulders as his mouth captured my left nipple. He ran his tongue over the areola and then put my tit in his mouth, making me moan. He sucked and then left a light bite on my nipple.

"How good you are, you son of a bitch," he growls and then runs his tongue along my neck, making me shudder from the wave of pleasure. He squeezed my ass with one of his hands and then slapped me hard in the area, making me complain and jump slightly in place.

This time I'm the one who takes him by the neck and joins our mouths again. I crush my tits against his chest without releasing the kiss. Chris's hands ran over my lower back and he dared to put them through the edge of my shorts, touching my ass directly. He grabbed the edge of my thong and pulled up, causing the bottom of my thong to go between my pussy lips. I pull away a little and bite my lower lip, looking into his eyes. His eyes are dilated and his mouth is swollen from the kiss, I can't help but get hot. I needed it. I felt it very hard under me. I'm about to kiss him again when I hear the lock of the front door lock and the cloud of pleasure in which I was immersed disappears. Matt had arrived. My heart stopped from one moment to the next and she looked at Chris scared.

"Hey baby, I'm here!" Matt's voice is heard in the distance. I quickly get off of Chris and adjust my shirt.

"Go through the kitchen door," I tell him, pointing to the back door in a whisper when he gets up. He smiles mockingly and grabs me by the waist, steals a small kiss from me and nods.

"This isn't over," he warns me in a whisper as well, and then I see him go around the kitchen, sneaking out the back door.

I sit back down on the couch with my heart in my mouth and quickly pretend I'm putting on another movie. My hands are shaking and I'm breathing hard, he tried to regularize it. What was I thinking, for God's sake.

"What's the matter that you're not responding?" Matt's voice made me tense and I watch as he enters the room. I feign surprise and take my eyes off the TV.

"Sorry honey, I was focused on looking for a movie" I say, leaving the control of the TV.

"Were you sitting there all day?" He laughs coming closer, I nod and fake a smile. "I'm not kissing you because I played hockey and I'm all sweaty," he says, pointing to his clothes. I look at him, and yes, he was indeed all sweaty and his clothes were dirty with grass.

"How did it go?" I ask and I thank all of Los Santos who didn't greet me because I'm sure Chris left all his perfume impregnated.

He leans over to the tea table and grabs the open packet of gummies I'd left behind.

"Okay, I'm tired," he complains. "I'm going to take a bath, are you coming?" He asks, giving me a smile.

"You go first, I'll come in a moment.

He nods and leaves the room to go to the second floor. I stayed for a few minutes thinking about what had just happened and caressed my temple when I heard a notification on my cell phone.

@/christophersturniolo he sent you a message: "If you are going to fuck him, think of me."

₊ ⊹ author's note. Thanks for reading, remember to leave your like, a comment and share with your friends. Are you interested in being part of the taglist? Leave me a comment below and I'll add you.

₊ ⊹ taglist. @luverboychris @l34n @sturncakez @imwetforyourmom @hotreaderliin @tillies33ssss @sturnioloxlver @jnkvivi @stvrniolowh0re @adirtylittleheart @melonjollyranche @sssoniaswiftt @ecliphttlunar @jetaimevous @khxna @kiliaisinnnthehouseee @luvr4miya @xoxotaylynn @chr1sgirl4life @lovesturni0l0s @sturnthepot @stunza @certifiedstarrr

[inkmonster21]

Sing for Me

11. The Missing Songbird

Cooper Howard × Fem!Reader / The Ghoul × Fem!Reader

She's a singer the nation adores. He's the actor everyone respects. What happens when these two get entangled in a heated affair? Passion, regret, rage, and even murder will commence.

From before the bombs drop to the vast wasteland, these two souls live for one another.

Previous Chapter

Series Masterlist

Tagged: @fallout-girl219 @harmfulb1tch @themadhattersqueen @one-of-thewalkingdead

(Y/n) (l/n) lay frozen in that chamber for centuries. Stuck in a dreamland where everything was perfect. He should’ve left her there. She had peace in a sleep filled with dreams that would never come true.

But he was bored. He wanted a life, and a family, and no one was letting her out on their own accord. So why not him? He already knew everything about her. He could praise her and provide a good life for her here in the Vaults.

Henry, now commonly known as Hank MacLean wanders to Vault 31. Searching row after row of frozen chambers until he came across what he was looking for. Posted up in the seat, blue lips, and frosted lashes (y/n) (l/n) lay undisturbed. He smiles, pressing all the needed codes for her release. He injects her with a syringe. Just a little memory wipe to make the process easier on his part. He transports her to Vault 33, setting her up on the metal examination table and hooking an IV into her arm. All he could do was wait. He wouldn’t be so bored anymore with her around.

~

I open my eyes but quickly close them again due to the bright white light. I reach out into the air, my body weak. “Help,” I whisper with the little energy I have in my bones. My throat was dry and my lips were numb. My vision comes soon after the feeling in my fingertips. I look down at myself, seeing a blue suit lined with yellow. I choak out a sob, not entirely sure of why I’m sad. I was so confused. I couldn’t remember anything. The overwhelming feeling of fear taking root.

I look around quickly through tear-soaked eyes. I’m lying on a table, an IV drip in my arm. I start to breathe heavily. Was I sick? Did I pass out? Where was everyone? Where was I?

Who am I?

Then I heard it, “You’re alright. Would you like some help sitting up?” A single voice that calmed the nerves. I looked up to see a man. A small, weak man, with a wide friendly smile, “My name, is Hank. Everything is okay. Do you remember where you were before you fainted? Why you were running?” I stare at him in confusion. I shake my head, covering my eyes. “I… I don’t remember anything.” Hank pressed a smile and placed a hand on my shoulder. “Well, you’re safe now. I’ll grab a tray of food and some water and be right back. You must be starving.” I feel my anxiety rising as he steps away. The fear of being alone again with unanswered questions claws at my brain. “Wait…” I reach for him, this stranger. “Would you stay? Please?” Hanks's smile spreads over his cheeks, “of course I will.”

Day after day Hank would arrive with breakfast, spending the hours of the day teaching me about the Vaults and how the community functions. It sounded like a dream. “I have your file from the Overseer of 31,” Hank excitedly says as he types away on his Pip-Boy. “So soon? I thought you said it would take them a week.” Hank smiles down at his screen. “It has your name.” A smile grows on my face.

A real name. My name! Something factual I could hold onto in this sea of uncertainty. I grab his arm tugging him close, looking down at the screen. I read the name slowly, the information warming my chest. “Melody Richards.” Hank smiles at me, “I think it’s a beautiful name.”

I sit with a grin, content with being Melody. Content with being someone.

“Everyone will love you, Melody,” Hank reassured me as he walked us down the corridor, arm in arm. Vault 33 had put together an entire function just for me. To welcome me into their community.

Life was good. I felt right at home in Vault 33 with Hank. He took care of me. He made sure I was always happy. It was hard for me to believe sadness was still an emotion I could have. We married soon after, and my days were happy. I was assigned to teaching, which I was surprisingly good at. Maybe I was a teacher in my past life. It had been a year and Hank and I were just so happy. The daily routine is memorized by my brain. Every day just like the last. A predictable happy day. Until one individual day when everything changed.

“Girls, is there something you’d like to say,” I ask politely as a group of 3 girls. The bell has rung, and class is over, but yet they remain in their seats. They giggle as they look at me. I feel myself shrink. Was something on my face?

Becca, a 13-year-old girl with long blonde hair smiles at me. “You look just like Mary from that movie we just saw last night. She’s so pretty.” I tilt my head, “I didn’t know I missed movie night! I wish I had known.” The girls jump in excitement, “We’re about to go watch it again! Do you want to come? We need a chaperone anyway.”

It was only 3:00, I didn’t have to make dinner for another hour or so. I could use a little break. I shrug my shoulders, “Sure, why not? Lead the way, girls.”

They skipped down the hall telling me all I needed to know about the film. “So Mary is a singer and she works for this bad guy who owns the club. Bill, the detective is trying to catch the club owner but falls for the singer in the process. He saves her and then she tells him off! And he chases her in the rain! They are so cute! Ugh! I wish I could meet someone like that.”

We take our seats in the theater, waiting for the picture to roll. The screen lights up, and a nightclub scene appears. The picture drifts to a stage where a stunning young woman walks through the curtain. She begins to sing. Her voice swims through the room beautifully. I watch in amazement as she belts the song. I wish I could sing like that.

A man enters to club and is instantly taken by Mary. She sings to him, reaching out. He trails from table to table until he takes a seat in the very front. She walks down sits on his table and finishes her song. The man smiles at her. It warms my chest to see a new love.

I did look similar, but in no way was I more than a resembling face to the old actress.

At the dock Bill pulls her away from gunfire, shielding her in the street. “You have to go, Mary.” She shakes her head, “I told you. I can handle myself.” He turns to her, cups her cheeks, and brings her in close for a passionate kiss. “I know you can, but if you get hurt. I won’t be able to handle myself.” He stroked her cheek lightly.

In such focus, I don’t think twice about the cold ghostly touch on my own cheek. I watch in a trance as they express their feelings. I run my fingertips over my lips, feeling a light tingling. What a reaction! This film was something else. The two actors sold the roles. They acted just like they really loved each other. The film finished and I was hooked.

The next few days I rented every film and every record by (y/n) (l/n). I danced in the kitchen as I made dinner. Spinning around I place the meal into the oven.

Hank walks in, a confused look present. I giggle and grab his hands. “Dance with me.” I hum lightly to the song as I attempt to get him to join. He doesn’t. Instead, he walks over to the radio and turns the record off. I watch him, and an unfamiliar clench in my chest rises. His eyes bore into mine. “Melody, where did you get that?” His stare is lined with a nervous smile. “The library. They’ve started renting out movies and records now.” He nods as he watches me. I return to cooking dinner silently. I turn my head to look at Hank. He reads the back of the record case with furrowed brows.

The cover stands out. She really was beautiful. Clad in a silky red dress, her hair done nicely, and makeup to perfection. “Some of my students said I look like her.” I smile at the thought of being that stunning. Hank looks at me, no expression on his face. “I don’t see it.” He gathers up the films and records into a pile. “I’m not a big fan of this type of thing. You’re so much better, Melody. I don’t want you to get a complex." Hank exits the vault without another word.

The right thing to do would be to listen to him. he was my husband and the voice of reason in the dynamic. However, I can hear someone. Someone deep down calling out. Begging me to sing those songs. I lay in the bed staring blankly at the wall. Someone won’t let me rest. Someone is clawing at my skin from the inside out begging to escape. I look at Hank. The man I had come to know seemed like a stranger. Such an out-of-character act for him. He loved music, any type.

I feel the haunting pull. Forcing me to get out of bed and slowly creep down the illuminated hall. I wonder, feeling my feet carry their way. I stop at the doors to the theater. The invisible tug pulls me into the room. The only light was upon the stage. A ghostly smile grows on my face as I advance to the stage. I stand on the elevated wooden floor, looking out over the rows of seats.

I can’t explain why or how, but I began to sing. A song I had never known or heard begins rolling out of my mouth. Emotion taking over my body. This lost soul pulling their way to the light.

“I can hear you but I won't

Some look for trouble while others don't

There's a thousand reasons I should go about my day

And ignore your whispers, which I wish would go away”

I see the mist of a figure seated in the middle. His eyes are bright and his smile is wide. He feels so familiar. Something inside myself was wrong. This wasn’t me. I wasn’t a singer. I wasn’t a performer.

“You're not a voice, you're just a ringing in my ear

And if I heard you, which I don't, I'm spoken for I fear

Everyone I've ever loved is here within these walls

I'm sorry, secret siren but I'm blocking out your calls

I've had my adventure, I don't need something new

I'm afraid of what I'm risking if I follow you”

The figure is closer now, allowing the light to bleed into their frame. He stands from his seat, taking slow steps towards the stage. I fall to my keens awaiting him. It was the only thing that felt right.

“What do you want? 'Cause you've been keeping me awake

Are you here to distract me so I make a big mistake?

Or are you someone out there who's a little bit like me?

Who knows deep down I'm not where I'm meant to be?”

It’s him. The man from the films. He pulls himself onto the stage, cupping my face in his palms. The warmth of his hands has me believing he’s real. He’s here with me.

“Don't you know there's part of me that longs to go

Into the unknown

Into the unknown

Into the unknown”

I cling to him as I sing. His smile couldn’t widen anymore. His eyes dazzling as he watches me. His touch pulled the lost soul to the surface. Pulling her out and tossing Melody inside the cage.

This has been an entire trick. I see my entire past in his orbs. The movie, the secret meetings, the months of sadness, the party, the divorce, the engagement, Barb, and Vault Tech…

I breathe heavily as I finish the song. I stare at my hands I allow a tearful laugh to escape. I'm back... I'm me... The heavy weight of the unknown universe is gone.

It's just Cooper and I. I look up expecting to see him, but I'm alone. "Cooper?" I call out only to be met with my echo. The doors in the back open swiftly. I smile watching his figure walk down the dark path.

"Cooper." I go to run into his arms, but I stop at the sound of the voice, "You just couldn't leave it alone. Could you?" Hank advances the stage, stalking me with his eyes. "Henry." I back away with each step he takes.

"Where is he?" He shrugs, "Probably dead." He extends a hand, "Why don't you just come back with me? We have a good life." I shake my head, my back hitting the lush red curtains. "You tricked me!" Henry tosses his head back with a dark laugh. "I saved YOU!"

He lunged at me, grabbing my frame in his grasp. I scream as I struggle against him. "No!" I kick against him, "I'm not going back!" Tears fall from my eyes, "COOPER!" I ball as I violently thrash against Henry. He pulls out a syringe from his pocket. Shaking his head he holds me down. "I've got an idea on how to make you more... compliant." He stabs the needle into my neck. Second after second, I feel my limbs weaken. I fought to keep my eyes open, but I lost. Falling into my death that was disguised as a restful slumber.

~

Hank MacLean buzzed around the lab, watching the machine craft such a perfect specimen. “She’s beautiful.” He whispers lowly, in shock, he had never seen such an astonishing creation.

Fastened in a tube lay a newly built machine, recreated from past generations, but was lost, until he reconstructed it… reconstruccted her. He recreated her from the ruins she once was. Sitting in the dark storage unit, rotting away in the grave of all the failed experiments and equipment. Where the past had failed the future will succeed.

The young Hank overlooked the newly finished machine. She was sparkly. Her skin was smooth, her lashes long, her cheeks the color of rose, her lips plump, makeup drew on to perfection. She looked just like she did in the movies.

With one finger he types a single code into the computer system with haste. As the shield opens fog rolls out of the tube, kissing the floor. Her eyes open, knitting her brows together. A calmness washed over her. She steps out of the chamber completely nude. She smiles at the small madman. “Hi there, I’m, Melody. How can I be of assistance, Mr. MacLean?”

She was easier to… control. Hank had an easy life in the vaults, mostly because his synthetic humanoid wife listened to his every command without question She cooked his favorite meals, and cleaned until the home was spic can span. She was the perfect wife. What else could he want?

Short answer? He wanted Rose. One of the newcomers in a trade with Vault 32. He had become obsessed with her. Her beauty was impeccable. Not fake like Melody’s drawn-on liner. She was the sweetest creature he had ever come to know. Rose was made for him. Unlike Melody who Hank crafted to fit his narrative. However, this had to be fate. No one had made his heart beat like Rose. That night as he returned home for dinner. He had a plan. One final act and he would be free to woo Rose. To have and to hold her forever. He just had to get rid of Melody first.

He hauled her mechanical body to the top floor, disposing of her and all of the remaining items. Her belongings, movies, albums, clothes. Anything Hank had hidden away to shield the truth from her. It worked for some time. He wanted more. He had the perfect wife, but he wanted real raw emotions. Yes, she has a real brain and a heart, but it never truly belonged to him. She would forever feel the attachment to the old actor long gone with the land.

He set everything down with a huff. He took one glance at her cold emotionless face before looking down at his wrist to input the codes. The codes to shut her off, to put her to death once and for all.

Just as he brings his finger down to hit the last number, his finger curls around his hand, and forcefully turns it upwards. The synthetic copy of (y/n) holds Hanks's wrist with a bone-crushing grip. She leans in, dark eyes as she bends his wrist to look at the screen.

“You were going to shut me off?” She twitches her head. An internal battle raged in her mind. Two lives battle for dominance, but clash together in a confusing mixture. Hank yelps as he tries to hit the last number, but she is faster. She quickly breaks his other wrist. He screams in agony, glaring at her. “You bitch!” He grits his teeth as he tries to grab ahold of her. She kicks him in the face knocking him out cold.

Get the box and go.

Get the box and go.

Get the box and go.

Get the box and go.

She twitches as she grabs the box in her hands.

Run.

Run.

RUN!

The internal voice screams the commands. She swiftly opens the vault door, the sunlight shining in blinding her. She doesn’t look back at the sorry excuse of the man who had created such a machine. She left in search of something unknown.

[moody-alcoholic]

Thunder

poor Simon needs a hug and a cup of tea :(

Summary: Simon x OC, established relationship, Hurt/comfort, mental health, PTSD, trauma, thunder and lightning. Mentions of sex (no smut) 1.2k words.

Masterlist

Enjoy <3

It had been a good day, a slow day we went for a run, I cooked pasta. We fell onto the sofa together turning the TV on for some background noise while we cuddled, our belly’s full and heads warm from the bottle of wine. Simon runs his hands up and down my arm and I feel myself dosing off, enjoying being laid on his chest listening to his heartbeat. Eventually we make it to the bedroom lazily making love, the incoming storm distantly rumbling in the background made the energy feel electric. I could tell something seemed wrong though, Simon just wasn’t himself, his movements felt off, his kisses quick pecks rather then the long and tender make out sessions I was used to.

“You okay?” I ask him as we lay in each others arms.

“Of course,” he says smiling and tucking a strand of hair behind my ear. I smile back running my hands through his hair. I know how much he loves that. Feeling happy and satisfied I drift off to sleep.

The next thing I hear is a crack of thunder, I spring up my heart pounding in my chest. I take a few seconds trying to orient myself, my hand already finding its way to the bedside table. I see the the weapon lit up by a flash of lightning followed by another room shaking boom of thunder. ‘It’s just thunder’ ‘just thunder.’ I say to myself forcing my hand to close the drawer and take deep breaths. I look over to Simon’s side of the bed he’s not there.

“Simon?” I call getting out of bed and heading to the en-suite. I peak the door but he is not there ether. I take my dressing gown off the hook wrapping it round me. I leave the room, I don’t see any lights on. I call his name again, I’m starting to get worried now. I check the living room and kitchen, empty, all I have left is the basement. I open the door the light is on. He must be down here.

“Simon?” I call as I walk down the stairs, I don’t see him, fear takes over he could be anywhere I head over to the weapons closet I open the door and jump back seeing him sat on the floor knees to his chest back against the corner, his eyes wide. I force my face to change from fear to loving bending down in front of him.

“Thunder gets you too huh?” I say trying to sound as calm as possible. He nods, you can’t hear it as much down here, and I bet in the small closet with the door closed it’s almost inaudible. I smile reaching out to touch his knee, he’s shaking. He won’t hold my eye line for very long.

“Stay here, I’ll be back in a second.” I say closing the door for him. I rush upstairs back to the bedroom, the rain is coming down harder the thunder and lightning relentless, I have not seen a storm like this ever. I grab our pillows and duvet heading back to the door. I stop a second looking down in his bag. I grab one of his masks, I don’t know if it will help but I will try anything to calm him down.

I make my way back to the basement slowly opening the door back open. I bend down smiling, slowly I show him the pillows. He nods and I help him place them behind his back.

“Do you want me to sit with you?” I ask. He nods, I nod back grabbing the duvet and slowly squeezing in beside him. The space is small but I don’t care I wrap my arm around his shoulders encouraging him to lean on me. He does, I pull the duvet over him feeling his body tense. I kiss his head stroking his hair. He pulls the door closed with his foot and I sit with him, I was right you can barely hear the thunder down here. I whisper to him over and over again, it’s okay, I love you, you’re safe. After a few minuets I feel his body start to relax. I keep playing with his hair curing it between my fingers massaging his scalp. I sit there in silence for a little longer, he’s playing with something under the duvet, rubbing it, I saw it in his hands while I pulled the duvet over him but I didn’t get a proper look. I don’t care whatever it is it’s keeping him grounded.

“John always used to say, ‘thunders not scary it’s just God moving his furniture.’” I say kissing his head.

“Maybe Johnny can tell him to give over.” He says after a few seconds. I smile, he’s starting to come back to me. I slowly move one of my arms on his chest it’s not the most comfortable for me, he’s so much bigger then me but I relax against the pillow stroking his chest. We stay in the closet until I’m convinced the storm has passed. I don’t wake him when he falls asleep, I listen to him snore softly, hoping and praying I don’t accidentally knock any of the weapons down. When he wakes I can already tell he seems more like himself, he moves to sit up and I let him stretching my arms. I smile at him as he meet my gaze and holds it. He leans in and kisses me, a long loving kiss. I stroke his cheek as he pulls away.

“Thank you,” he says.

“It’s okay,” I say. “They should stop making thunder sound like mortar strikes.” He chuckles and gets up to his feet offering me his hand. I accept as he pulls me up, I bend back down to grab the pillows. As I pick them up I see what he was holding in his hands. It was a red skull mask, I frowned I had never seen it before. He sticks his head back round the door scrunching the duvet up. I show it to him. He looks sad all of a sudden. He takes it out my hand rubbing his thumb over it.

“It was Johnny’s.” He says. “Found it shoved in the corner of the room.” I reach over and put my hand on his.

"Keep it.” I say. He shakes his head handing it back to me.

“It was his it should stay here.” I nod not wanting to argue and put it on the shelf by the boxes of ammo. I close the door, maybe I should get this place carpeted for next time. I follow him up to the kitchen and he makes tea. He babbles about a mission he remembers with Johnny. He seems so much better, I smile and let him talk for however long he wants.

I think in a way we’ve helped each other, my brain switched into ‘nurse’ mode the moment I saw him distressed in the closet, I had enough of a distraction comforting him I completely forgot about the storm. I wonder if Simon has ever had a place he can feel truly safe in. I guess a room filled with weapons and John’s things is the closest he can get to a safe room. I smile drinking my tea, I would have to remember to check the weather in the future.

[moenmomentsthemoe-en]

the depersonalisation and depression got my ass and dragged me kicking and screaming BUT I AM HERE AN D ALIVE AND AND

[twisting-in-wonderland]

i really need to stop getting outfit envy from twst characters,,,

bonus-:

the stones probably wouldn’t break too easily-- but Jamil doesn’t want to take chances, considering who is holding them at the moment-

some progress pics::

shoesssss

!! a sudden Jamil appears!

(i.  i was so close to finishing this when the event was still running,,,, sobs wails)

[luvring]

if ur ever sad abt ur rb to like ratio just imagine everyone who liked kicked their feet and punched the air and felt their chest cave in and the sheer genius of ur work left them unable to do anything but click the heart lest they lose control of themself in the tags. u may never know what the silence yearns to say but u may imagine the best for urself anyway.

[safekeeperscosm]

woe mytrax be upon ye

[graciousdragon]

bruh we're gonna do peer reviews for the drafts of our profile research proposals in my writing class and my ass is gonna write about mcr (duh) and like. i'm wearing a black parade t-shirt in class rn. i have a danger days sticker on my laptop. the last thing i was listening to was the mad gear and missle kid ep. my computer wallpaper is that fuckass mcr themed nonbinary pride flag. it feels like i have a giant sign with blinking lights over my head that says "please talk to me about american rock band my chemical romance"

[ardenrosegarden]

[puppyeared]

does anyone else feel like they could be a really really good tour guide if the memory problems didnt exist

[bugmistake]

sometimes its so crazy to realize that there's actually a lot of things i like. that i thought i didn't like because i was a depressed teenager. i love being outside! i love swimming! i love talking to people! even strangers sometimes! i love getting dressed in fun outfits and doing makeup! i love reading and going to art museums! i just thought i was doomed forever to a life of complete and total apathy and void! and now look at me! still a little shaky but i'm doing it!!!!!

[piipaw]

"I'm too chubby to cosplay x character" I say even tho I prefer when said character is depicted chubby in art/fic aaaaaa