#all bc we think its rude to interrupt

[linogram]

pissing me off

[reidmania]

cedar | spencer reid

summary; breaking up on good terms and remaining friends is difficult, especially when you and spencer work together, its even harder when your life is put at risk and spencer is faced the possibility that he might really lose you.

warnings; exes who cannot stay exes, angst, fluff, they flirt w each other, fem reader, mentions of being stabbed, all cm minds things, happy ending, avoidant!reader, self sabotaging reader. BUT THERES SOOO MUCH FLUFF GUYS, they flirt and banter so much, reader is sarcastic and very playful, shes lowkey lorelai gilmore coded a little idk

an; cedar is my song. i love cedar, i love gracie abrams. thank u and goodnight. not proof read bc if i read it i probably wont post it. thank u so very muchly to @gghostwriter for all the advice on this fic and letting me yap about it.

‘Breaking up is funny, I forget you aren't mine, I forget you aren't mine. It's impossible to acclimate, every time we talk, we understate, how I know we both could die, we both could die. But you told me that you felt the same, when I told you how I needed space, but I think it was a lie, it was a lie’

“You know pointing is rude.” You mumbled, crossing your arms over your chest as you leant back in your chair. The room went silent as everyone turned their gaze to look at you. Was the timing of your statement the best? No, did you care? Also no. Hotch was in the middle of going on the details of the case you had traveled out to Louisiana for, he was pointing at the screen and the thought just slipped passed your lips before you could help it.

Spencer turned his gaze to you, eyebrow rasied, “Do you ever think before you speak?” He asked. Your lips parted before shutting again, then you let out an amused huff and shook your head, lips pulling into a half teasing smile.

“If I did that I’d lose my sense of humour— you all would be miserably bored.” You sighed back, the smiling pulling further on your lips as the messy haired brunette sitting opposite you raised his eyebrow further and let out a half hearted— almost sarcastic chuckle in return.

He tilted his head slightly, “Humour? Is that what we are calling it?” He asked. You nodded instantly, a wide, half proud smile taking over your features. He hummed, clearly amused.

“Why is pointing rude?” JJ spoke up, your eyes widened in almost excitement to be able to talk about why the thought had crossed your mind in the first place.

“Well when you point you kill all the fairies.” You replied, matter-of- factually. You knew it was technically silly but it was a sweet childish thought that had been engraved in your mind since you were younger and you heard it from a distant relative, probably as a way to you from stop pointing at someone (because that was rude but explaining that to a five year old would be useless so they settled on something more interesting for an adolescent)

Spencer let out an audible laugh, “You are a child.” He said, almost teasingly.

Your head turned away from JJ’s to meet his eyes, this time you sat up a little straighter, “What does that make you?” You teased back, raising your eyebrow at him.

Seemingly, that made his lips part then close, and he resigned, yet there was still a slightly amused smile on his lips, which he bit his lip to try to hide, as he turned his attention away, making your smile only widen as you settled back in place, slumped against your chair as you turned your attention back to Hotch. who was standing arms crossed, clearly unamused by the interruption.

You however just smiled widely at him, “You may continue now. Without pointing, don’t be a fairy murder.” You huffed out. Hotch stared at you for a moment, no emotion evident over his features before he shook his head, turning his attention back to the case at hand.

Your eyes caught Spencer’s for a moment. In those moments it was increasingly difficult to remember you weren’t together, it was further difficult to remember why you had broken up in the first place. The way you interacted, the looking for one another in a crowded room, the soft touches and the teasing taunts went against every breakup ‘rule’

The breakup wasn’t messy. Not really, Not at all. It wasn’t mean, there was no big argument, no mind changer, no feelings lost, it just.. happened. It started when you had admitted to Spencer you were getting overwhelmed with the fast pace of your relationship, and he agreed he was too. You both agreed to take space, time, to reevaluate on what you both needed at this point in time.

When the conversation finally happened, you told him you thought it would be better to end things now, while everything is good so theres no chance of things going bad. You explained your reasoning by saying you didn’t want to lose your friendship with him if that feeling in your chest never went away, you didn’t want things to be awkward at work.

He had agreed, and it was mutual. You both mutually agreed to end things out of the fear of things ending.

It had been a month since the breakup, there was no awkward phase between you two. There was no tension, bitterness. It instantly fell into the same rhythm that had always been there, playfulness, teasing, lingering glances. The only difference was now he didn’t steal kisses to cut off one of your dramatic rambles, or wrap his arms around your waist at the end of the work day to signal he was ready to go.

You hadn’t decided yet, if the breakup was the right thing to do, if keeping this close knit bond with Spencer stumped any chance of you moving on — not that you planned to right now.

The breakup wasn’t messy, but everything after, everything now and everything in your head was.

“Spencer” You poked at his arm as you approached where he was standing, leaning over a desk reading over something, you weren’t sure what it was, you didn’t really care. He didn’t look at you as he let out a hum of acknowledgment, making you smile. “Spencer” You repeated, poking his arm again, and then again, until he turned his head to look at you.

His raised eyebrow and the way his lips pulled into a tight thin line showed he was unamused, not annoyed. You smiled widely at him, “You’re in my way.” You said, something you could have told him when he was half paying attention, but that took all the fun out of it.

He stared at you blankly for a moment, before crossing his arms over his chest, leaning his body against the desk further, turning towards you. Which only further blocked your path. “Thats unfortunate.” He sighed, you squinted at him slightly.

“Can you move.” You huffed. No longer amused because it was less amusing when he was amused as well. Maybe that was silly but you couldn’t help it.

He raised an eyebrow, pretending to think about it for a moment, before looking back at you. You glared at him, crossing his arms over your chest before he spoke. “Whats the magic word?” He mumbled, tone laced with faux seriousness.

A huff left your lips, as you glared up at him, squinting your eyes slightly, “Chivalry is dead?” You suggested sarcastically.

He grinned, “No. And that’s a sentence. I said magic word”

“You know what? I will just go the other way.” You decided, turning on your heels to walk away. A laugh left his lips as he reached out to grab your wrist, stopping you from getting too far, he dragged you back to stand in front of him.

“Stubborn.” He mumbled, shaking his head as he looked down at you, you returned the gaze, tilting your head slightly as you looked up at him, trying to keep the smile threatening to make way onto your face.

“You just noticed?” You replied in the same tone. Although you knew he had known this for a while, he never failed to mention how stubborn you were throughout your relationship, whether it was playful or in the middle of an argument, he constantly reminded you just how stubborn you were.

He shook his head, not bothering to hide the amusement on his face. “No, No. Trust me you make it very known.” He said, emphasising his words to make it clear that not only he, but everyone was aware of your stubbornness.

You smiled, “Being stubborn isn’t a bad thing, you know.” You mumbled, gently pulling your wrist away from his hold, not because you didn’t enjoy the touch but more-so because you felt an undying urge to cross your arms.

He hummed, looking down at you, “I didn’t say it was.”

You tilted your head, the same entertained look in your eye that mirrored his, “You inferred it.” You said, matter-of-factually, although he didn’t, not really. He actually didn’t give any hint to what he meant by his words, but you were okay with that. It kept things lighthearted, easy.

“You assumed.” He said in the same tone. “I didn’t infer anything, I simply made an observation.” He said, raising his eyebrow as if he was trying to figure out how you were going to find a way to reply — he assumed something witty, dramatic.

“Can you observe from elsewhere.. you’re still in my way”

He let out an amused laugh, “Im still waiting on that magic word” He said, clearly enjoying this and the light hearted banter between the two of you.

You rolled your eyes, in a huff of frustration you ramble, “You are creating a hostile work environment. I feel unsafe. I feel targeted and threatened. How do you feel about yourself, after treating me such a way? You are a horrible evil person. Im going to take this to corporate.” You babbled off into a dramatic tangent which only furthered Spencer’s amusement of the current situation.

“I feel pretty great actually.” He shrugged, you glared at him, staying in place for a moment to see if he would move, he didn’t, instead he continued smirking slightly. You groaned dramatically before turning on your heels and walking away. You could hear his laughter as you walked around the opposite direction to get where you wanted to go in the first place.

“I hate when my job actually requires me to do my job.” You huffed out, shaking your head as you tightened the straps of your vest. It wasn’t true, you loved your job, you loved what you did and that wasn’t a question. It was just the dramatics and the emphasis on how tired you were today, although that didn’t stop killers from killing, or kidnappers from kidnapping.

Unfortunately this case was particularly tough, it had taken an abundance of days to just figure out the victimology and connection because of how random the killings were, then it took another day to figure out the MO, then the profile was completed, then the next day, today, you had finally gotten the location of where the unsub was keeping his victims.

“Yeah, Such a struggle, poor you” Spencer mumbled out as he came up behind you, readjusting the straps on the back of your vest to make sure it was on properly, his voice was laced with tease, you just hummed in acknowledgment.

“Make sure you’re careful, and cautious.” Hotch reminded you. You didn’t think much of it at the time, it was the same reminder as always when catching an unsub, don’t do anything unnecessarily dangerous, don’t split up unless necessary, don’t put yourself in a situation that you cant get yourself out of, the words you had heard probably a million times.

You wished you paid closer attention this time.

You and Spencer walked through the house, it had an ominous feel to it, the air in the house was colder than outside, and it wasn’t a particularly warm day — but it wasn’t the temperature that made the house feel as cold as it did.

Instead it was the guttual sobs you heard from underneath the floorboards that made the hairs on the back of your neck stand, and goosebumps to line your arms. They weren’t sobs of pain, instead just ache, a cry so loud begging for someone to hear. Before that you were about to whisper a stupid joke to Spencer, now you felt as if you couldn’t breath.

“Stay here.” He whispered to you. There was something unfamiliar about the look in his eyes and any wit you could muster up was thrown out the window at the sound of his voice. It was a stupid request, you couldn’t just stay here in the hallway while he wandered around. You had a job to do.

When he turned the corner, gun pointed protectively, his movements were calculated and careful, every step he took he knew what he was doing, You thought you did too. The first step you took was quiet and your gun was pointed, your finger hovering over the trigger.

Spencer moved towards the sound of the sobs, you moved towards the living room, trying to clear the downstairs area of the house. There was a pull in your stomach for a number of seconds, a twist of anxiety you pushed to the side to focus on the matter at hand.

That didn’t last. Ignoring the feeling in your stomach turned into gasping at the feeling. A gasp of pain leaving your parted lips as you stumbled forward, the gun left your hand and hit the ground, the sound of the contact blurring as a ringing swindling sound took over your sense of hearing.

You were stabbed. You could feel the metal, more than you wanted to admit, you could feel the way it pressed into your skin, the coldness of it against the warmth of you. A sob of pain left your lips before you could help it. There was someone holding you, wrapping a tight arm around your chest and a hand over your mouth to silence your cry.

The arms weren’t comforting, in any sort of way. They were too tight, too suffocating for the lack of air you were able to breath in between the hand covering your mouth and the pain in your stomach, you wished adrenaline would kick in but it seemed to dwindle out as your head spun, then the knife was ripped away from your stomach.

That hurt.

More than it did when it first went in.

Then you were released from the mans arms and your body collapsed in pain, eyes squeezing shut as your hands scrambled to press against the open wound now bleeding out. You didn’t know where the unsub was, you didn’t hear footsteps, you didn’t really hear anything. Everything seemed blurry, not your sight so much since your eyes were squeezed shut but you could feel your mind blurring with every second that passed, any first aid training you had learnt flew out the window.

You missed it at first, the sound of the door opening, the sound of back up coming in, Derek, Emily. They were in the house now but not in the living room, not where you were lying on the floor in a helpless pool of your own blood. You wanted to yell out, or sob but every sound got stuck in your throat.

Then you felt a larger hand pressing on top of yours, placing more pressure against the wound than your tired arms had allowed, you made out frantic talking but nothing your half conscious mind could string together coherently. It didn’t matter, you could recognise the roughness of the gentle hand anywhere.

“Spencer” You gasped out, panting.

Had you been holding your breath? You didn’t remember but you knew breathing was getting more and more difficult.

His hand pressed against yours, other hand coming to brush hairs out of your face. “Im here. Can you open your eyes for me?” He almost begged, his voice gentle and reassuring and laced with panic even though he tried his hardest to remain calm for your sake.

You didn’t reply, only letting out strangled gasps for air, eyes remaining shut, squeezed tightly, as if the harder you squeezed them shut, the more your pain decreased. Unfortunately thats not how anatomy works.

“Open your eyes for me angel, look at me.” He now did beg. If you were conscious you would’ve given him a look for the use of the term of endearment in your current broken up state, but you could hardly process anything else he was saying, and you were bleeding out so there was clearly more important things.

You struggled, but after a moment peeled your eyes open to look at him. Vision was blurry and fading in and out even few seconds even when your eyes remained open, you couldn’t make out his features, you couldn’t see the tears he was trying to hold back. God you wished you could see his face.

“Good, thats good. Keep looking at me, Okay? We’re getting you help, you’re gonna be okay” He reassured but it was more of a slight reassurance for himself, trying to convince himself as such. His voice became a ringing in your ears, along with every other sound around you.

“Wh- Where- Is—“ You words came out mumbled, muffled by gasps for air and whimpers of pain. “He.” You finished, trying to keep your eyes open, trying to focus, trying to stay alive.

Spencer spluttered for a moment because he didn’t know— He had no idea. Whether the unsub was right behind him or whether they were being taken into custody by Derek or Emily, whether he was lying dead on the floor somewhere. Spencer didn’t know. He couldn’t. How could he focus on anything else?

“I don’t know” He said.

“Go away” You mumbled, eyes now fluttering closed, even in the state of half consciousness you knew Spencer was still in danger, more danger by keeping his back to his surroundings and his focus on you. That was putting himself in an unnecessarily dangerous situation.

He shook his head. “Im not going anywhere. Keep your eyes open.” He repeated.

“Spencer” You huffed out a breath of air, your eyes remaining closed because you were so tired. “Go. You- You aren’t— You aren’t my boyfriend anymore” You huffed out the words that came across way harsher than what you intended them, “Staying- With.. Me isn’t your.. Responsibilty” Your words came out laboured along with the way your chest rose and fell, the breaths that left your lips.

“Don’t say that. Open your eyes.” He shook his head as his other hand trailed down to your neck, fingers pressing against your pulse point. You couldn’t feel it, every part of you and every inch of his touch felt like a lingering sensation over the numbness of your body, your eyes remained shut.

“If i die” You huffed out, your voice quieter, more rushed as you tried to get more air in, “Please” You started before you let out a gentle sob, not of pain, you weren’t in pain, not anymore. “Please don’t let them use a bad— photo of me.. at..- my funeral”

It was the most you things to say before you stopped replying, before your body tensed slightly. To joke, to be playful at a time like this. Spencer wondered if it was an attempt to calm him down, to relax his mind a little bit, to sooth the ache in his soul with the wit that was unforgettably you.

The cream coloured walls seemed taunting, they were warmly lit, contrasting how cold the space felt, how daunting it was. There was different people scattered around, some crying, and grieving, some reading newspapers, others celebrating. There was really no contrast of emotions quite like a hospital waiting room.

“She just got out of surgery. Shes in the ICU.” Hotch said as he stood in front of the few members of the team that were sitting by waiting. Everyone wanted to stay at the hospital and wait throughout the time of your lengthy surgery, not everybody could.

“Is she okay?” Emily asked, sitting up a little straighter as Hotch spoke, Spencer remained silent in place, every part of his body relying on the ache in his chest to keep his heart beating. He didn’t know if he could form words even if he wanted to, he didn’t know if he could speak without his voice breaking.

Hotch was silent for a moment, which caused Spencer’s head to snap towards him in nothing but pure dread. Hotch realised and shook his head. “Shes— Shes fine. Shes alive. Shes still asleep, they said it could be a few hours before she wakes up. The surgery went fine - She will be okay” Hotch sounded relived as his spoke, an unfamiliar sense of emotion in his voice.

“Can I see her?” Spencer spoke urgently before he had even fully understood what he was saying. If he had thought about it for a moment more, he wouldn’t have bothered asking. He wasn’t oblivious to the inner workings of a hospital. ICU. Family members only.

Hotch seemed to know that Spencer already knew what the answer was, “Reid..” It came out regretful, apologetic, empathetic. Spencer didn’t reply, instead re-slumped back in his seat in defeat.

There was hours. Hours before you were awake. In those hours Spencer was nothing short of a mess. He tried to work, reading over case files, trying to summarise what had happened and then the memory of your blood painting his hands came back and he was left in a state of overwhelming thought.

“You alright, pretty boy?” Derek asked, despite the playfulness of his words, his tone was serious. It wasn’t a secret how much you meant to Spencer, it wasn’t a secret how much he cared about you. Spencer looked up from the hospital seat, the room had grown more absent of life as the hours passed, families came and went, the crying stopped and started again, the celebrations happened and passed. Yet spencer never stopped feeling so lost.

He shook his head, saying he was fine would be a lost cause to the knowingness of his best friend, and his current state. He was so evidently not all right that saying so would be humorous. His cheeks were flushed, hair a mess from the amount of times he had run his hand through it, tugged on the strands stressfully.

“You know what she said to me?” Spencer mumbled out as he pulled his gaze away to look at his fiddling hands, “She was laying on the floor, dying, and she told me to go away because I wasn’t her boyfriend anymore” Spencer huffed out the memory.

Derek sighed, taking a seat next to the mess of his best friend. “I don’t think she meant it like that. The situation was still dangerous and you were putting yourself at risk.” Derek said. Spencer wanted to cry.

“I know— I know. She said ‘it’s not your responsibility to stay with me anymore’ — I don’t— I can’t—” Spencer couldn’t articulate the emotions swamping his mind. Everything was overwhelming, every time he closed his eyes he saw you on the floor in a puddle of deep red blood, anytime his fingers remained still for too long it was like he could still feel your pulse running flat against them.

“Breathe.” Derek reminded as Spencer got himself worked up.

“I lost her— I lost her.” Spencer shook his head as the words came out, his hands pulling to his face to rub over his eyes, maybe as to hide the way they’d begun to water, maybe to feel anything besides the heat of his cheeks.

Derek sat up a little straighter to rub Spencer’s shoulder, “Shes okay. They said she will be fine. They just want to look over her for a while. She was in a tough surgery, I don’t know much about hospitals but I’m pretty sure being in the ICU means shes getting all the care she needs to recover better, and faster.” Derek tried to comfort.

“Its- No- I already lost her Derek. I was an idiot and I didn’t say anything — I didn’t say anything because I was scared of losing her and i lost her anyways.” He rambled, an overwhelming force of regret lingering in every word he gasped out.

“Your breakup? I thought that was mutual?” Derek furrowed his eyebrows in confusion. Spencer wanted to laugh, because technically it was. Technically they had both agreed, technically this is what he wanted as well.

He just wanted you.

“She wanted space— I thought.. I thought everything would be okay. Then she suggested we break up while things are still good enough for us to end on good terms and be friends. I just — I didn’t want to lose her; I wanted her to be happy and in my life so I didn’t say anything.. I- I settled for being friends because it meant — I thought it meant i still had her” Spencer was a mess and it was evident in the stammer of his words in the midst of his ramble.

“You don’t think you do?” Derek asked, Spencer shook his head as he brought his hand down to rub gently over his chin and bottom lip, a shaky breath leaving his lip’s. “I think you do.. I mean everyone does. You two still act like you’re together.” Derek said, furrowing his eyebrows.

Spencer sighed, “Thats just— Thats how it was before we started dating. Sometimes it feel’s like we are still together.” Spencer mumbled, Derek opened his mouth to speak, but Spencer cut him off. “Shes going to wake up, alone. Her family is in a different state and I’m not allowed to see her? I- This is bullshit.”

“Just say you’re her husband” Emily said, catching both of the boys off guard, they hadn’t heard her approaching. Spencer lifted his gaze from the ground to look at her, eyebrows furrowed. Any other time, if it was for any other person he would probably go over how that went against so many rules, but he couldn’t find himself caring.

Not when it came to you.

He broke protocol. He wondered how many times that had happened today as he sat beside you, his hand on of yours, thumb gently running over your knuckles as you laid still unconscious on the bed. He paid attention to the beeping of the machine, the rhythm of your heartbeat, making sure it stayed consistent like his life depended on it — like your life depended on it.

You mumbled something, causing his gaze to break away from the screen to your face, watching it twist slightly. Your eyes remaining closed, then your hand twisted to interlink your fingers with his. You were evidently in pain.

“Hey- Hey don’t move too much. Do you want me to get your nurse? They can give you some different meds” Spencer ushered gently, leaning closer to the bed as you stirred awake. He wasn’t sure if your lengthy amount of time spent unconscious was purely because of the antiseptic leaving your system or also the need for sleep but he was glad you were awake.

“No” You rasped out. Whatever medicine they had been pumping you with since you got out of surgery did its job. You weren’t necessarily in pain, just uncomfortable. Even with your eyes closed you could feel the brightness of the white hospital lights. You knew where you were.

Spencer squeezed your hand gently, making you now very aware that he was holding your hand. “What the fuck happened?” You huffed out, voice groggy and full of confusion. You knew where you were, you knew it was something that happened on the case, you knew you were stabbed, but everything after the knife made contact with your abdomen was a blur in your memory.

“You were stabbed.” He stated. You opened your eyes to glare at him, “Yeah- Spencer, no shit.” You shook your head, he smiled. “I just— Is everyone else okay?” You asked.

He nodded. Derek and Emily had saved all the victims and the unsub was in custody, he explained that to you softly, mapping out every detail so you could make it out enough in your mind to satisfy your need to know what was going on.

“Next time can you tell him to do better? This bed sucks” You referenced to the unsub stabbing you, and leaving you alive and uncomfortable. It was a joke. You tried to move without causing yourself any pain over the uncomfortable thin mattress of the hospital bed. Spencer smiled and let out a breathy half hearted laugh.

“I’ll be sure to let him know” He returned your playful tone but it was heavier, quieter. It was filled with something more, something unsaid. His eyes dropped from your to back to your hands that were twined together, rubbing his thumb gently over the webbing of your own.

You tilted your head slightly, “What’s wrong?” You asked, it didn’t take a genius to read Spencer. You had memories the is and out’s of his head, or you thought you did. You knew enough.

“I thought I lost you.” He said, shaking his head slightly. His voice was so quiet and filled with guilt. “We broke up and.. because of what? Because we didn’t want to lose each other— I almost lost you.” His words held so much gravity it felt like it had all been taken from your surroundings and you were floating on everything left unsaid and unfinished.

“But you didn’t. Im alive.” You smiled playfully. He said your name, serious, showing he wasn’t playing around about this, that it went further than just this situation. You sighed, and shook your head. There were only so many jokes you could make to downplay the weight of the space between you.

“Okay. We broke up.” You mumbled, looking at him. “Because things were weird and it was too much and if things kept going then if we ended later it wouldn’t be on good terms and then we wouldn’t be able to be friends and thats horrible for everyone” You said, recapping your mutual decision to break up.

“Why do you do that?” He asked, squinting his eyes as he looked up at you.

You furrowed your eyebrows, “Do what?” There was a number of things he could pull you up on, your avoidance, your jokes, your way of downplaying everything and anything.

“Plan the end of things when they have hardly started. You were planning a breakup for a relationship that was doing perfectly fine. You needed space, I gave you space, then you decided you wanted to break up? Why?” He huffed out.

You furrowed your eyebrows further at his words, but he was right. Of course he was right. “You said you felt the same.” You mumbled, maybe if he had called you on your bullshit a month ago things would be different and you would’ve worked things out, you two would be together and maybe everything would be different. You also knew it wasn’t his responsibility to try and understand emotions you couldn’t comprehend or communicate to him.

“I didn’t want space, I didn’t want to break up — but I didn’t want to lose you all together.” He admitted. You suddenly felt the wind knock out of your chest. You wondered if the way your heart beat increased showed on the monitor, which seemed all too revealing.

“You didn’t say that.” You muttered.

He sat up a little straighter, not letting go of your hand, his fingers stayed tangled with your own. “Would it have changed anything if i did?” His voice was quiet, as if a question that didn’t need an answer.

“It was going.. too fast” You huffed. The relationship did go fast, but maybe it was because the two of you spent way too many years in this flirty banter phase before either of you actually made a move; maybe because you were both already so comfortable with one another.

“We could have slowed it down.” He said, rebutting.

“And if that didn’t work? If it was all just too much? Then we argue and we end on bad terms and then not only is it awkward for everyone at work but then we can’t even be friends” You repeated your point, the fear engraved in your mind.

“What if it did work?” He shut you up with his point, before he continued. “What if it did work and then everything was fine. What if you told me when things are getting too much or overwhelming you and we work together to fix those issues so we don’t end at all.”

“That’s optimistic.” You mumbled sarcastically. Everything he was saying made sense, everything he was saying was ideally how a relationship would go, but it wasn’t as simple as that for you. You couldn’t help the way your mind thought the worst.

Spencer huffed shaking his head, “You’re stubborn.” He said. And he never let you forget it.

“Im realistic.” You resorted, but you weren’t: You hyper fixated on everything that could go wrong and got yourself out of those situations before giving anything a chance to work out itself.

“You’re an idiot. And I love you.” Spencer exhaled. It wasn’t a crazy love confession because you knew this. He made it known everyday. Even everyday you were broken up. He didn’t need to hide it. “Can you give us a chance? A proper chance without planning our breakup before theres any actual reason for it, please.” He mumbled, half playfully and half so serious.

You considered his words. Honestly your last thought before falling unconscious was the fear that you would die without Spencer knowing how much you loved him, how much regret you lived with for the state you had got yourself into with him, the fear you had of not having him in some way, none of these thoughts you could voice aloud when dying.

“Okay.” You settled.

“Okay?” He asked, repeating it back as if he didn’t believe you. You nodded, repeating it again. He breathed out a sigh of relief.

“Okay good, because everyone on this floor thinks I’m your husband and it would’ve been really awkward if you just rejected me.”

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

WIBTA for telling the blunt truth to my roommate, that shes immature, irresponsible, and rude?

[-.-] < so I can recognize

so I (20) have three roommates, A(20), B(21 or 22), and C(20). We all attend the same college. I have lived with A for 2 years, but we only started living with B and C in fall 2023. so far there have been some issues, and most of them revolve around interacting with C. C has a cat, and they keep the litterbox in their room of our apartment, so they always have their door open. This itself isnt really a problem, but I feel like its eroding the distinction between common space and their personal space for them. Often when there is another conversation happening at the table or on the couch, C will come out of their room, sit on the couch, and watch loud videos on their phone without headphones. Then, they will hear a small part of our conversation, react in TOTAL shock and awe, demand we recap the last 5-10 minutes of conversation to catch them up, then go right back to their video. On another occasion, I was talking with either A or B as well as C, when C said they were overstimulated and needed some quiet time (no problem with that, it happens) so they were going to put in their headphones and. stay in the living room on the couch. instead of going to their room.

They also will completely derail conversations into complete dead ends and traumadumping. I was driving, C was in the passenger seat, and B and our friend G(18 or 19 iirc) were in the back. we were chatting about our parents being silly and making harmless fun of us at various points, and C multiple times said "we're not talking about times my parents took away phones bc Trauma!" like. If you dont want to talk about it DONT BRING IT UP. C could have chimed in w a time their friend did something like that and it would be fine! but instead they latched onto the parent part. They do this fairly often, and it makes it really hard to have a conversation where we casually mention our childhoods, bc its always a minefield w C, as they will make a point to bring up that they lacked the circumstances for whatever experience we are talking about, either due to bad relationships w parents or due to growing up poor.

On top of all this, they also are not financially in a good place. They routinely dont have money for food and end up eating mostly communal stuff. Sometimes when they are low on money I will end up buying something communal just so they will stop carrying on. IMO if they are in that sort of financial situation they shouldnt have gotten a cat, bc I honestly dont think they can afford it. tbh I feel like they pretty much live on the cheese and tortillas I buy, and i'm starting to feel the financial stress of it.

They are constantly making every interaction about themselves in ways that make it really hard, even when they arent even part of the conversation.

Repeatedly i've wanted to tell them that they dont have to be involved in everything, and that they dont have to always be talking or generating noise. That when other people are talking, they need to either contribute constructively to the conversation, wait their turn, or at the very least stop and apologize when they interrupt someone instead of talking right over them for minutes at a time. And that its not our responsibility to help them when they are low on money, that maybe they shouldnt have gotten a cat if they werent able to financially support it, and also that it shouldnt be our (me, A and B)'s job to walk on egg shells bc they have emotional outbursts over incredibly minor things (they do take mood stabilizers and have a disorder that effects their mood, but that doesnt mean its ok that they will sometimes seem really angry and aggressive out of absolutely nowhere, yelling swears with no provocation).

What are these acronyms?

[kassandras-one-braincell]

Hi ok so if ur still accepting the brainworms, here is a little Eivor idea i have been toying with? Its a really loose sort of idea, and i havent written reader inserts before, but i wanted to share it!! Sorry if this is a lot

So okay so

Being a nobleman/King/earl's youngest daughter, sent to live in Ravensthorpe as like, collateral, as part of a treaty between ur father and the Raven Clan (like a "we'll just hold onto one of your kids so you don't fuck us over" situation, idk this part is LESS important than the gay stuff)

And as you live there and become part of the community Eivor takes you under her wing, trains you to fight, and you give her information about neighboring kingdoms/Shires for raiding, etc etc and of COURSE you fall in love (because that's what we are all here for, falling in love with Eivor), and over time the two of you are just a power couple running Ravensthorpe?? You are thriving And Eivor adores you, u are her Princess (and I definitely don't like awake at night thinking about Eivor calling me Princess. I don't do that at all,,,,,)

And bc I love drama, I think some ratty little dude from another shire reaches out to your father for your hand in marriage, shows up in Ravensthorpe to whisk you away only to be confronted with the Beefiest Norsewoman Ever on your arm, and he starts running his mouth

And then Eivor. Beats the shit out of him? Because I'm gay, and I love watching that woman pummel dudes into the ground

Thats all I have so far, but I can and will go deeper and more detailed on this little idea if wanted

Always welcoming brainworms. Perpetual state of brainworm acceptance. Please give me the worms 🧠🪱🧎

I'm vibing with the collateral lore, specifically because it makes the ensuing build-up to the inevitable falling-in-love even gayer. The whole "we'll hold onto your princess so you honour your bargain" political manoeuvre has an unspoken contract. It's technically a hostage situation, pulled with the intent of holding leverage over someone, and...oh, no, the most respected warrior in our settlement is teaching the hostage to defend themself. And now the hostage is...offering tactical guidance that will boost our economy, possibly to the detriment of theirs. They also have an axe now. Motive unclear, but homoerotic.

Rat bastard's deployment is a plot to skew this arrangement in favour of your kingdom; your kingdom laid siege to a fortress, only to find it barren of loot with evidence of the Raven Clan's visitation. Clearly, your father thinks, the clan had blackmailed or tortured some information out of you, and a marriage would see your undisputed safe passage out of Ravensthorpe (fine print?). Rat bastard offered the highest dowry.

Your peaceful afternoon in the sun, draped across Eivor's lap while she feeds you slices of apple, is rudely interrupted by Rat bastard (RB hereon out) making his gaudy introduction. You can see Alvis a short distance behind, clearly biting back laughter. Eivor's grip on the knife shifts as RB states his purpose in a monologue littered with objectifying remarks aimed at you, o the children you'll bear him (grim), the money and land he offered for your hand - flattering stuff.

That's what pushes her over the edge. A princess as lovely as yourself is bound to attract suitors. Ordinarily, she'd grit her teeth through it. But RB thought you a trinket to be possessed and used, and your father was willing to throw you to highest bidder. Eivor is having none of it.

Relief flickers over his face as Eivor sets down the knife, but panic returns tenfold as she rises to her full height and rolls her shoulders. "Where is it you hail from again?" she asks with a voice of steel.

RB, bricking it, meagrely clears his throat and answers. Nowhere important, certainly not amongst the allies of the Raven Clan. Eivor therefore has no reservations about sending him packing with a few less teeth, a couple of broken bones, shakily clutching a piece of parchment detailing a change in contract regarding a certain princess. By the time your father reads the draft, you and Eivor are already wed.

I'm dying to read any other ideas you have on this or how it continued in your head! I love how your brain works. :)

princess in her voice hhhhhhhhhh PLEASE

[leclerced]

ENGINEER OSCAR AND FRAT LANDO

- is lando like president or a legacy or whatever it’s called ??

- how do they meet her

- is their relationship public

- also they def let her ramble post math sesh because she needs to prove she is smart just at other things and they let her because they love her voice (i’m projecting)

-🪼🪼🪼

i think it’d be fun for him to be president or a legacy so he has rank in the frat and has his own room and stuff!!idrk anything ab greek life bc i didn’t go to college /: ironically i live next to a college campus and live on frat row .. its just bc its a nice area

her and oscar spend a lot of time in the library and meet there. they have a bunch of minor interactions before talking, making eye contact and smiling, getting their coffee cups swapped at the library cafe, passing each other around campus and smiling or waving a little even though they don’t know each other’s names. one, they both see someone fall and look to see if the orher saw before reacting and its like the jetpack video!! he makes that face and she’s giggling and is like, jesus this boy is so cute i need to know him. why hasn’t he talked to me yet??

another time, she’s trying to get a book from the top shelf and can’t reach it and he happens to walk by so she asks him to get it for her. a few days later he can’t find a table to sit at and he asks to sit at hers. they start chatting and end up sitting together more often then hanging out outside of the library.

she tutors lando or they have a project together in a class. bc of that, he interrupts her and oscar’s library hangouts. i can see her and oscar just hanging out and being friends and then she’s bringing lando to the library. he’s super flirty and distracting while she’s trying to work/tutor him. he gets jealous and makes a move next time they hang out alone, asks her if she wants to go on a date sometime, and she’s like, “finally, dumbass, i’ve been waiting for you to ask that. but also i have a date with lando with lando on friday and it would be rude to cancel it.” and oscar crashes his date, lando crashes his date in revenge. it goes back and forth so all their dates are threeway dates that end up being really fun

i can see it being public but not defined to everyone if that makes sense, they don’t really feel the need to explain themselves. strangers wouldn’t know but friends and stuff would and i can see the frat knowing more than others because her and oscar have privileges there and have keys to lando’s room. oscar’s not a party goer, but she’d party with lando while oscar hangs out in lando’s room. she goes upstairs once she’s feeling needy and when lando can’t find her downstairs, he knows exactly where to look.

oscar would understand her rambles and love them because he learns from them, and would ask questions at the right moments and lando’s confused about everything she talks about but he loves her and she plays with his hair while she talks so he’s happy as can be.

can we talk about lando with a competency kink?? lando has a hard on because oscar teaching her is hot, he’s so smart and lando doesn’t get the math either but his dad is rich and would build the school a library or whatever if he failed. gets so turned on when she’s rambling about her favorite subjects and oscar’s watching intently, absorbing all the info she’s spewing. it goes in one ear and out the other in lando’s case, his mind filled with thoughts of other things.

[nebbistrs]

slayer nezuko, demon tanjiro!

what i think would happen if nezuko and tanjiro switched roles!! (unwavering resolve arc, pt. i)

(aka im too lazy to type my actual story and i felt like sharing my ideas for this online. also this is just scratching the surface i have wayyyy more ideas)

nezuko struggling to carry tanjiro down to the village bc she isnt as strong as he is

she did a lot of house work and helped her mom while the boys mainly chopped wood or mined coal

nezuko crying and being emotionally distraught in front of giyuu when he attempts to kill tanjiro

tanjiro coming to his senses rather quickly, so before he can even hurt nezuko he ends up crying and shrinking into a smaller height, until giyuu rudely interrupts

giyuu eventually sending them off to urokodaki, where nezuko trains for 3 years

nezuko barely killing the demon that killed makomo & sabito & co.

tanjiro waking up a day before nezuko returns home, passing his earrings down to her. even if she doesnt accept he will force it on her with the cuteness angry face possibly

nezuko having a black sword, fucking terrified because what if she dies young now. shes about to have a breakdown bc urokodaki and haganezuka are looking at her weirdly

probably does cry too

but nezuko & tanjiro head off to their first job

and its a fucking shit show

nezuko being 15 in this au (bc of 3 yrs training) is the prime target for the swamp demons

she actually almost does get kidnapped, but tanjiro saves the day because nobody is stealing his little sister from him

the battle is difficult at first, but theyre stronger together. although, nezuko does scold tanjiro for putting himself in danger since she was so worried for him

immediately have to go to the city right after. and in this au nezuko doesnt have tanjiros excellent sense of smell, but i gave her a different ability! one that allows her to feel people's emotions (or sense ig) and she can tell peoples true intentions by their hearts. and... muzan has 7... so anyways

moving on, we have the battle with susamaru and arrow dude whose name i totally didnt forget! that pretty much goes the same way it does originally

now! we meet ✨ zenitsu ✨ and hes still a mess. although the interaction goes veey differently... as in, zenitsu immediately begins to flirt with nezuko and act all zenitsu-y after getting beaten by the girl before

thats it for part one!! maybe ill do part 2, maybe i can go into greater details in the future, who knows!

or maybe ill forget about it oopsies—

[augustinapril]

congrats on 200! i can't think of anyone more deserving than you <3

𝐀𝐥𝐛𝐮𝐦 𝐂𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐬 — request one of the character in the fandoms above in an au from my list, and I'll write you a fic!!

florist au with tasm!peter parker<33

I love this idea :(( might write more of florist!reader with Peter bc it's cute. no spiderman in this au!! hope you like this?

warnings: none! just some awkward!Peter & gn!reader <3 proofread by @lemkay-luminary .

wc: 1k || 200 followers event

˗ˏˋ ★ ´ˎ˗

Peter thinks the flower shop is cozy. It smells like a dewy spring morning, a variety of warm colors fills his vision as he looks around in search of you and that stupidly cute apron you’re forced to wear.

You're hiding somewhere in the forest of colorful plants, his feet leading him through the leaves. The melodic sound of your voice meets his ears when he reaches a small stand of greeting cards beside the counter.

As he peaks around the corner, he finds what he's been searching for. You're talking to a little boy, leaning down to his height while pointing at a small pot of red azaleas. Your voice is soft as you speak to him, a smile sweet as honey graces your face.

"I'm sure she will love them," You assure, grabbing ahold of the pot and handing it to him, making sure his small hands have a good grip on it. "Should we go find you Tori so you two can pay for it?"

The boy nods his head excitedly as you stand, leading the boy toward where Peter is standing. Peter moves out of the way.

Just his luck that he ends up running into the stand of greeting cards, his foot catching onto the leg of it. He barely catches it, and it’s a miracle that none of the cards fell on the floor. “Are you okay?”

He snaps to you, meeting your worried eyes. “Uh, yeah I’m okay. Sorry, I wasn’t watching where I was going.” He informs you, laughing in embarrassment. He’s sure his ears are as red as the azaleas you put by the register.

A woman interrupts—though it’s more like her unknowingly coming to his rescue—she picks the little boy up, as she rests the child on her hip. “Evander! Did you find mommy's gift?” Her hands reach up to brush some of his braids out of his face as she talks, pressing a soft kiss to his forehead.

“Sure did, momma. Y/n helped me find it.” He spoke, pointing at you. You chuckle as his mom gently grabs his hand, pulling it towards her.

“What do we say about pointing, baby?”

He rushes to correct himself. “That it's rude.”

She smiles again, nodding. “That’s right. It’s okay to forget sometimes, you’re not in trouble. I’m just reminding you, baby.” He nods, head snapping back in your direction when he hears the register make a ka-ching sound, hands bouncing eagerly. “Here’s your flowers, Evander.” You say, carefully handing him the potted plant. “Remember to tell Evangeline I say happy birthday.”

“Will do. What do we say, Evander?”

“Thank you!” Evander shouts, as he waves his hand at you with enthusiasm. You wave back with a broad smile.

“You have a good day, sweetheart!” The woman shouts back as the door chimes.

“You too Tori!” You return, and the door shuts. You exhale, taking a quick moment, then turning to him. Peter forgot he was here for a second, so caught up with your interaction with that mother and her son. It was clear you knew them somehow. “Sorry for the wait.”

Peter sheepishly shakes his head, waving off your apology. “It’s no problem at all, really.” He hates to admit that he’s nervous, but he is, and it makes him feel stupid. “I'm here to pick up an order?”

“Oh course!” You say, returning back behind the counter to look at a piece of paper. Your eyes scan over it, flickering back and forth quickly. There’s a beat of silence, one that makes Peter's heart pick up its pace before you speak. “You’re Peter Parker, right?”

His eyes grow wide in confusion. He wasn’t expecting you to know his name, and by the way you chuckle, the confusion is painted on his face . “We had chemistry together, I think.”

“Oh, yeah.” He doesn’t really remember anything from that class, but you don’t need to know that. “Sorry.”

“It’s alright, high school sucked. You’re not obligated to remember every classmate.” You continue, writing something down on the paper before quickly excusing yourself. Peter questions if he can go through with his plan.

Aunt May had a way of persuading him into doing it. He told her about you after coming home one day, spilling all his thoughts about the florist he’s seen multiple times skating home that he had a growing crush on. May thought that he should ask you out, and as much as he wanted to, he didn’t know how.

Which led to May convincing him to order an arrangement of flowers and use them as an excuse to try and get your number. That’s exactly what he’s trying to do, but now that he’s this far along, he wonders if he’ll be able to get the question out.

Thankfully, you’re back before he can ponder on it more, a small arrangement of lavender and white blossoms. He can smell the lavender from here. “Here are your flowers.”

“Thank you,” Peter says as anxiety creeps through his system. He wants to pull back, let go of his plan and just tell May it didn’t work. Peter knows she would see right through his lie, and she would have wasted good money on flowers for no reason. He began to speak before he gave himself another chance to back out. “Hey, uhm, is there any chance I could possibly . . .” He pauses, nerves making him second guess himself before he continues, adjusting his shirt as the words come out quicker. “I don’t know, maybe i could get your number to go with the flowers?”

He looks at you sheepishly, his face heating up as your eyes widen slightly. He thinks it's the kind of surprise that means you’re going to politely reject him and you'd send him on his way. Instead he receives your beautiful smile, making butterflies bloom in his stomach, and then you’re reaching for a pen.

Your handwriting fits you perfectly, he thinks as you hand him the paper. Your number is scribbled in blue ink, followed by a little smiley face. He doesn't realize the note you wrote in the corner until he leaves.

'Hope to hear from you soon! :)'

˗ˏˋ ★ ´ˎ˗

please reblog if you enjoyed this!! If you want more florist!reader & Peter my requests are open. <3

[tragedycoded]

heyyy, now that dmls is finally finished, I wanna ask: Was there anything you were forced to cut from it?? (And if so, can we see it??)

Leah! Hi! Thank you for the ask :> This turned into a giant post, I am so sorry LOL.

I'm going to show you something that was cut because I realized they were in a time loop midway through draft 4.

So ORIGINALLY, in March 1873, Sullivan and Hofer were afield (on a military operation that had them sleeping in bedrolls in the middle of nowhere.) Lon threw a note wrapped around a brick through Royston's window, only it wasn't Royston's window, it was his neighbor. Neighbor was like LON YOU FUCKING MORON and walked the note over to Royston, who came out on the balcony and provoked Lon into challenging him to a duel (we see him do this in January.)

I cut this chapter because I realized they were in a time loop as I was writing it.

The first half is whatever, it's Buck telling the story to Sullivan, who starts asking questions, and if I were going to show it to folks I'd have to run it by my roommate (my sensitivity reader) bc Buck is being mean/rude to Sullivan.

But yeah. Gott flat-out told Royston "Some of us remember" and I was like WHOA WAIT WHAT and just kept trucking. As one does. So this is alllllll just me letting them tell me/each other what the situation is.

It's not CANON because I haven't sorted out whose death would have caused a loop where they both were able to retain information without physical contact and also be cooperating. Possibly the second loop when Hofer was shot in the neck en route to Westerberg's cabin, but Sullivan still died in that run.

So I think of this as more like "Sullivan took over the Storyteller's little room outside spacetime and used it to conspire with Royston to get me to let him save Hofer." (Hofer died in draft 3.)

It will probably appear as a scene in the interactive novel, because the more I think about it the more I think they could have avoided doing this eight fucking times. If I get them cooperating sooner, then it doesn't make sense that Sullivan would be cross with Royston for so long that Royston has to follow him to Fort Cano. That's a Bad Ending. But we don't see why Royston always has to push Sullivan off the train unless they get a Bad Ending you can't just take my word for it so a;dfa;dkfa;dlsfk.

Anyway, I have for you today ~1100 words cut from draft 4. Sullivan starts out talking to Buck, who is relaying details of the fight, and he's had enough of Buck insinuating Royston has a deal with the Devil that lets him fight so well. (He doesn't. That's what 30+ years of honing a skill will do. That's why Buck is the best shit-talker in the midwest, he'd been doing it since the [redacted] Revolution.)

"Was it quick?" Sullivan interrupted.

He didn't want to hear anymore. Every other time he'd sat and had to hear it, he'd made himself listen all the way to the end, because he thought he might hear something different. Because he needed the confirmation that Royston was exactly the sort of man he thought he was. Every other time, he did not like the answer he received, or that he had to wait until Buck's story came to its final conclusion.

Sheriff Mason wasn't going to do anything different this time Buck told the story than he did last time. Lon Huston wasn't going to not die in the street after Arthur Royston sidestepped him, got behind him, and drew a line from the tip of his blade to Huston's heart. The man he loved wasn't going to find a way out of dealing with Lon Huston that didn't involve killing him.

Cole Sullivan loved a violent man. Cole Sullivan loved a man who figured, after the second one, that killing was getting pretty easy. After the third, he started getting paid for his talent.

Sullivan wasn't but eighteen when he killed his first man. Thought he was being transferred to the sharpshooter division but they'd snagged him for the cavalry instead, assigned him a black gelding named Coal and sent him to the French border. An Osage scout, couldn't have been any older than Sullivan was, and he'd hit him from 275 meters away without waiting to be ordered. If he'd waited any longer, the scout would have fired upon their point. The other men had drank to him that night, but he hadn't felt anything but numb, after killing his first man.

Couldn't figure how Royston felt amusement before killing a man, but Sullivan hadn't had to live Royston's life. Half of what he'd told him already, seeing how the men around him treated everything as an opportunity to bet money, he could only imagine what it had been like when he was wilder and less disciplined.

This time, Buck laughed and said, "Oh, yeah, Sergeant, it was quick."

"Took about ten seconds," Gregor added.

That was all he needed to hear. Sullivan couldn't listen to any more of this.

As the first sergeant marched out, Gregor sighed, "Don't worry, Buck, I'll listen to the rest of yer dang story."

#

The trooper went out the front door, because he was angry and hoping the walk from the bar to the boarding house's parlor would give him time to cool down. Wasn't wise, standing around long enough for Buck to say something insensitive, like he had last time.

The gambler went in the back door, because he always went in the back door, and because he didn't want anyone on the main street to see him entering the saloon. Was foolhardy enough, staying in the same area that the horse thieves knew him to operate.

Last time, Sullivan had stood in the parlor for nearly ten minutes before Gott found him, and offered to carry a note across the street to the saloon. Last time, Gott had let Sullivan into Royston's room to wait for him there. Royston had been offended, when she told him this. And she had told him he was going to lose a good man if he did not stop flaunting how little he cared.

Some of us remember, Mister Royston, she had told him, last time.

And that was when the gambler understood. They were doomed.

This time, they knew they would miss each other. They knew. When Royston realized he had missed Sullivan , he narrowed his eyes at Buck and ignored him. Chose, in front of Gregor and the dozen people who were in The Pig & Whistle on a Saturday evening in March, to ignore Buchanan God-damned Yeats. Rushed the length of the bar, out the front door, down the main street, to Hell with whoever saw him, and followed Sullivan into the boarding house.

This time, they had nothing left to argue about. Last time, they had had plenty to argue about. Royston had lied to him, last time.

When Royston burst into the parlor of The German House where he often found himself opening his eyes after dying, or thinking he was going to die, or screaming well on his way to dying, he found Sullivan standing at the window, hands folded behind his back, where Royston himself had often stood while waiting for him. The lightness of his footsteps told Sullivan who it was before he turned around, and when Sullivan did turn, a smile tugged at the corners of his lips, showed his teeth, just a flash, through the salted red of his beard.

"Are you well?" Sullivan asked, this time.

"You're not angry?" Royston asked, this time.

"Why would I be angry with you​​?"

"… because you were last time we were here."

"How much can you remember?"

Royston is fraught as he pins himself in place, tapping the energy out of the toe of his loafer.

"Not enough," he said. "No names—"

"Which you don't retain to begin with," Sullivan shrugged.

"Hey!"

Sullivan cleared his throat and bit back a smile. Royston melted.

"Only a vague recollection of their fields of study… no notion of where they came from…"

"What was your associate's name?"

"Who?"

"The one who goes to… shit!"

"You can't remember anything either. We're doing something wrong."

"We remember enough, and you… you're listening to me, things are changing. We can…"

"I forget when you're not around, it's as if I have to start all over when I see you again."

"We have made progress, Arthur. I've made inquiries, and Erik is asking old classmates from the medical college if the names are at all familiar. You will hear from your associate, and we will find the right path forward from there. I recognize it is… novel, working in a group—"

"Excuse you, I have worked in a group before—"

"I apologize, Arthur, I was—"

"Making a jest?" Royston purred.

"Well... a remark that was not critical."

"If I were to provide you the opportunity to repeat the remark uninterrupted, would you take it?"

"Gladly."

Royston held out an arm to indicate Sullivan had the floor.

"I recognize it is novel for you to work in a group, but I strongly believe the three of us can stop whatever is going to happen from happening if we work together."

"Now… remind me, by three of us, are you referring to your surgeon friend, or to Molly?"

"Oh for the love of Pete, Arthur, Molly is my horse."

//

Heyyyy tag list <3

@leahnardo-da-veggie @the-golden-comet @cowboybrunch @lychhiker-writes

@wyked-ao3 @saturnine-saturneight @gioiaalbanoart @jev-urisk

[synthleeius]

this was such a cute request btw ALSO IM SORRY IT TOOK AGES I DIDNT MEAN TO I JUST KINDA FORGOT AB IT but we need more like barely ticklish readers bc its adorable

lee!reader

ler!solomon

1..

2..

Okay that's it.

You were known to be slightly inpatient, but you’ve knocked on the door of Solomon's room at least 6 times. And sure, you're all for being respectful.. but, come on!

So on that note, you twisted the doorknob and pushed his door open a crack to take a peak in before fully opening it and walking inside. You saw the sorcerer at his desk with his laptop open, and his headphones in. So that's why he didn't answer the door..

A small tinge of mischief filled your senses as you creeped up to him, taking a quick look at his laptop. Of course he was researching.. he could never get enough, could he?

You huffed quietly, I mean, how could all of his attention be on a few spells and potions! So much that he didn't even have time for you? How rude..

“What's got you so upset, hm?”

you gasped softly at the voice, your gaze immediately turned from the laptop to the voice. Solomon just chuckled, slipping his headphones from on his head to around his neck, turning around to look at you.

“What, you didn't think you could just linger over my shoulder like that and expect me not to notice right?” he chuckled, disbanding the headphones on the desk completely and standing up. His full attention was on you, and you could tell.

“That's so unfair! You weren't supposed to notice, and I was supposed to scare you!” You exclaimed, but quiet enough to not alert anyone else. Solomon just laughed at your antics, his head tilting as your arms folded over your chest.

“Don't laugh at me! Ugh, anyways.. what are you doing?” You changed the subject absentmindedly, taking a step back to his desk and looming over it to read the text on the screen. ‘The properties of this potion..’ blah blah blah.. God, did he really read all of this for hours on end?

“Just researching on this potion.. Why do you ask? Don't tell me you wish to start learning the things I do.” He teased, standing behind you and watched as your eyes squinted a bit at the laptop.

“I’d rather die, thanks.” You responded bitterly, a sly smile on your face as you turned around to meet Solomon's smug expression. “Would you now?” He asked, but you could tell that he didn't expect a true answer. “I would.” You bit back, your eyes shining with a mischievous glint.

“..What are you planning?” He asked, taking a small step closer to you. “Whatever do you mean? Im great~” You giggled gently, a single finger of yours connecting to his side. He let out a slight flinch, his hand taking a hold of yours.

“Don't start something you can’t win.”

“Oh, don't worry, I know I can win.”

You started by connecting your free hand to his hips, before you were ever so rudely interrupted..

“Absolutely not.” He said with a playfully stern voice, taking your wrist and conjoining it with your other in one of his hands and holding them in front of you. “Awh what, are you too ticklish?” You teased, leaning in a bit more forward to get a better look into his eyes.

“What are you even gonna do, hm? You know I’m not ticklish right?” You asked with a slightly confused tone, letting your wrists fall in his hold without and struggle. After all, you weren't scared.

“Barely ticklish.” He corrected you, smiling to himself when he saw your cheeks had fell a soft pink. “Yeah, barely, so what?” You scoffed, turning your head to the side.

“Say, MC, help me out will you? I'm in need of a.. assistant, if you will.” He pondered, his free hand reaching up to rest on your shoulder.

“Noho- fuck off.” You could help but giggle at the playfulness, backing up until you hit the back wall. Solomon followed you as you did, moving your captured wrists above your head and holding them in place as you struggled.

“Thank you for your cooperation MC, I deeply appreciate it.” His hand travelled to your neck, his fingertips running up and down the sides ever so gently. Usually, you don't get this kind of treatment. You weren't very sensitive to that sort of touch and that's a fact. But.. Something about his touch, it made you want to squirm in a sort of way you didn't know was possible.

“mmph.. s- stop.” you whispered, your head hiding in the side of your raised arms. Solomon just loomed down at you with a sly smirk, his nails moving to scratch under your chin teasingly. “You're right. You're not very ticklish, but that doesn't mean I can't tickle you anyways.”

“It's supposed to..” you mumbled, looking away as you felt his nails drag across your shoulder all the way up to your wrist in a swift line. He began fluttering gently with his top three fingers, making you shiver in place. You hid your forced smile, sneaking a soft peak at the other’s face.

“Hm? What is it?” He asked, the tone in his voice making you resist the urge to slap him right there and then. Just.. He was acting like he wasn't doing anything! Like his fingertips weren't slowly spidering down your arm, stopping to linger at your inner elbow, and-

“What, you can’t take it? I thought you weren’t ticklish?” He cut your train of thoughts, a sly smirk on his face looking into your eyes. “It's not.. like that. You.. you're just..”

Your voice trailed off, your brain short circuiting slightly. You couldn’t help it! barely even tickled, it was just.. flustering in a sort of way you couldn’t describe.

“You know, you're saying a lot about me.. How about we talk about you and that, may I say, adorable smile of yours?” He teased, letting his hand finally spread lower. He dragged his nails from your elbow, skimming under your arm for a split second before resting his hand on your waist.

He took a second to look at you, as if he was taking it all in. “What are you doing..?” You mumbled, your head turning forward to look at Solomon with a confused look. “Nothing.” He replied, his hand that was sitting comfortably on your waist began to run up and down, and you could feel his thumb rub side to side teasingly.

“Doesn't seem like nothi- shihit!-” You couldn't help but let out a soft giggle when his hand slipped under your shirt and skittered across your bare stomach. Sure, it wasn’t bad, but it still made that familiar bright smile reappear on your face, maybe even bigger than before if you really looked.

“Hm.. good spot?” He chuckled, letting his fingertips roam to your sides and hips just to make you squirm a bit. “Yknow, I really could make you more ticklish if you just let me use a tiny bit of magi-”

“Fuck no.” You cut him off, “Fihirst of all, fuck that, second of all, you’d torture me!” As you exclaimed, His hand finally slowed and his other came down to wrap around your torso. With a relieved sigh, you let your arms slam lightly onto his shoulders after being held up for so long.

“I should've expected that answer,” He began, a soft smile on his lips; “But if it means anything, I don't think I need to.. I like you like this.”

He whispered the last bit, laughing when you rolled your eyes.

“Stay tonight?”

“..Fine.”

[luckyqueenreign]

LITG Double Trouble EP 4 Recap

Just my thoughts and commentary on EP 4

Spoilers under the cut...also my current LI is Lewie so I'll just be saying his name bc I dont know if certain routes are slightly different.

starting off...terribly...the PUBLIC?!?! The public chose my LI?? BOO!!! FB BOO! Literally Idc bc I was eventually gonna dump Lewie anyway for Ozzy but im HIGHLY disappointed in the regurgitated, overused storyline.

Amelia was actually being chill...but girly who did you want to couple up with before fb rudely interrupted you?? 👀 she said they clicked in 0.0001 seconds!

be so fucking fr rn...its night one and shes giving Lewie a lap dance?? I mean I obviously picked that option lmao but this is still hilarious. We went from ZERO kisses/affection last season to heaps of it this season. Lowkey I think ive kissed Lewie more this season than ALL of s5.

OK I know we all hated being a detective all s2 but im so happy rn 🥹 this is bringing me back...I know some ppl have said it in my asks but is Ozzy really Noah this season?? saying he and Grace are tight but then immediately eyes lingering on MC🥰 the slow burn might be worth it with this one...the brushing your hair off your face AHH!!!!

the amount of talking about her brothers I cant tell if this is like s4 with Angie with her sisters or if its because one of them is actually coming in.

eeeek truth or dare time...

[psyoniks]

I am by no means a writer so sorry if this is bad/cringe/ooc/ the povs are all over the place but I'd thought it be fun to write some qsmp members(tubbo and phil) meeting my qsmpsona/oc when he first arrived on the island. This is set around a few weeks/a month after the frozen islanders thawed out

I might draw them or post some info/headcannons about them later bc my brain is obsessed atm.

If anyone can guess what Del is then you get a crêpe.

---

Tubbo was busying himself, working on his latest machine in the tubchunk. It was a suprisingly enjoyable moring in the spring season, not too warm and a little mist still hung over from the early morning. It was supposed to be a super smelter, but he was having complications with the conveyor belts at the moment. He hears a familiar, 'hey mate' behind him from the entrance. Phil could've been standing there for who knows how long and Tubbo would've had no clue unless he had something.

"Oh heyy Phil. How are youu." Tubbo calls out. Despite his cheerful greeting, its obvious that he was clearly frustrated for reasons Phil can only assume and needed to take a break. Tubbo doesn't take 'breaks.' Not even if Phil dragged him away from his precious machinery, which he has tried. Multiple times. Tubbo would always end up right back at his factory.

"I'm fine, thanks for asking." Phil chuckles. "I was just stopping by to see if you wanted to meet the new islander?"

Tubbo gasps dramatically from somewhere, hidden from his machines. Screw his machines, they can wait. A moment later Phil can hear a faint, 'ow fuck' as Tubbo comes out under the conveyor belts, rubbing his head.

"What do you mean new islander? Did you meet them? Are they nice? Where'd they come from? What's their name?" Tubbo shoots out questions as always before Phil can open his mouth.

"I was just about to tell you." Phil sighs, but doesn't chide. It's Tubbo. "I only met them for a few moments, but they seem nice enough. Just really nervous, which is to be expected I guess." Tubbo can recall his first day on the island and it was anything but underwhelming, that's for sure.

"Their communicater name is 'Delune', but they mentioned something about wanting to be called Del. They don't know how they ended up here but seem really panicked about it. They mumbled something that sounded like 'I'm not supposed to be able to forget." Phil shrugs his shoulders, as if that's just a normal thing everyone goes through when they first end up in the island. He has a air of wariness around him, like he's unsure what to think of the new islander. And when Phil's unsure, that means there's something amiss.

The trip to spawn was a quick one, with the whooshing sound and the sight of purple surrounding the both of them. The magic crystals really were convenient. Who gives a shit about walking.

Phil stops for a moment, looking around for the newest member. "Just be careful Toby, we don't want to-" But before Phil could even finish his sentence, in the span of a couple moments, Tubbo had already spotted Del, standing alone uneasily, looking around the spawn area and had already began to rush over there as what could only be described as excitement. "For fucks sake." Phil muttered, even though Tubbo was already gone from earshot.

His mind told him to run away, move from the fast approaching person, but his body refused. His legs firmly stood on the grass. Del didn't have to see them to hear someone was coming. The grass was a vibrant green, catching his attention. It must be really well kept. In fact most of this area seems really nice. Too nice. Uncannily nice. His thoughts were rudely interrupted by the same teenager almost sprinting torwards him at an alarming rate and before he could shy away, the out of breath teenager spoke a little too loudly for Del's taste. "How....how old are you?" It takes a few awkward moments as the teenager catches his breath. "Man I really need to run more." Tubbo did not run more. The teenager's eyes directed at the ground before his attention is caught back by Del. "How old are you?" He repeated with such intensity, as if this were life or death.

A few thoughts were running through Del's head, most of them consisting of variations of, 'I don't like you' and 'loud'. The most prominent one of all was the nagging feeling that the bird man had come back to his dismay. His attention was immediately shifted to the older man and his body tensed up as if he were expecting a fight, not outwardly hostile but definitely alarmed. A fight for what, his spot of grass that he hasn't moved from his he got here? Del didn't know, but he felt like he had to defend his space. The older bird man unsurprisingly caught this, but gave away nothing as he stayed silent.

Del let the air become awkward as he ignored the teenager who was still right at the edge of his nonexistent seat, waiting for his answer. Like it was the answer to the universe. It might've been.

"I understand this is scary and unfamiliar-" Phil began to speak gently with a hint of confidence, trying to get the stranger to be less tense. "-but I'm not going to hurt you. I have no reason to do that." Del narrowed his eyes with suspicion, not whole heartedly believing the man. Maybe if someone else claimed that, he might've been convinced. It felt as if he were telling the truth to everyone but him. The teenager, noting the tension, started speaking rapidly again.

"Oh yeah, he's chill. This is Phil-" Anything past that, Del tuned out, not particularly caring for it. Phil noted it, but did not speak on it. The teenager did not, and went on for a while rambling. It was almost impressive how much he could talk without getting tired, before Tubbo remembered why he came over in the first place. He opened his mouth to ask the question again on the basis that maybe the new member didn't hear him. "Eighteen." Del answered bluntly.

There's a light breeze that still manages to chill Del slightly as there's an uncomfortable air while it's silent. Del turns to look at the teenager who's expression, one of pure joy. "I'm not the youngest on the island anymore! Screw all of you guys." Tubbo shouted loudly, Del winced. There was no one else there but Phil and him so he didn't know who 'you guys' referred to. The teenager seemed a bit too happy at this revelation, which Del found strange.

Tubbo takes a step forward torwards Del with no hesitation at at all. Del doesn't move, but doesn't particularly seem happy about it. What happened to personal space? Phil follows suit, albeit in a much more cautious manner than Tubbo. Del takes a step back, keeping the same distance between him and Phil, his careful stare not wavering.

"Damn Phil, he hates your ass. Maybe he has ornithophobia." Tubbo jokes but it falls flat. Sometimes he says things and he doesn't know why, feeling like he shouldn't know what that is. Phil did not respond, immediately picking up on a strange sound, his ears trying to pinpoint the location of it. Buzzing? No but similar but much quieter. Sounds close though. He glanced at Tubbo and Del, but neither of them seemed to pick up on his confusion by the strange sound. Or they just simply didn't care. Phil looks around, the confusion still evident on his face. "What the fuck is that noise?" Phil curses to himself quietly, still observing spawn sharply for anything out of the ordinary. Maybe it was some Federation bullshit to drive him insane. Phil wouldn't be suprised if that were the case but his mood definitely soured at the thought of it.

Tubbo has now picked up that Phil is most definitely searching for something, but doesn't know what. He turns back to Del with a shrug. "Don't worry about him, he gets sporadically senile at times. Phil's practically half way through deaths door." That garnered a punch in the arm from Phil. "Ow my feelings." Tubbo complained as he rubbed his arm. It didn't really hurt that badly.

Del looks at Tubbo for a moment blankly, then glances over to Phil, although not meeting the older man's eyes. He's completely still for a moment, hesitating before putting on a pair of headphones. With no confidence and unsure of where he was headed in unfamiliar territory, they started walking away without saying a word. The strange noise stopped.

"Do you think I scared him off?" Tubbo turns to Phil, a little confused. "Knowing you, probably." Tubbo narrows his eyes pointedly, before laughing. "Fuck off."

"There's definitely something about him. It's one thing to be nervous but it's almost like-" Phil is hesitant to finish his sentence. "Like he isn't used to being around around people." Thats not what he wanted to say but he couldn't just air out his suspicions. Or, at least not with Toby around at the moment. Tubbo chimes in with his own thoughts. "Maybe he was abandoned at birth. Raised by wolves." Phil shot him a judgmental look, raised eyebrow and all. Tubbo was used to it at this point. "That's silly."

[yaemixi3]

Obey me brother headcannons

Includes: Satan, Asmodeus Beelzebub, and Belphegor. Random HCs, all SFW!!

Satan

he has a secret area in his library where it's all 'how to be in a relationship' or 'how to make them love you' (I feel like this man had bad experiences with relationships)

We all know Satan gets Christmas wishlists from little kids who can't spell 🎅 Santa

When he is reading you can hear a pin drop. Interrupt his reading and you die-unless you are a certain 🐑 sheep that everyone loves-

He tries to prank/curse/poison lucifer on the daily, and when it backfires he either blames it on Mammon, or pretend it was meant for mammon because he would rather spend the rest of the week watching paint dry than be lectured by Lucifer.

Asmodeus

He definitely has some 'lewd' pics of mc, SOMEHOW-

He would probably dedicate an area of his wardrobe to clothes that are mc favorite color or for clothes mc likes

Definitely has at least 23 bottles of 🌹 rose bodywash

Not the type to take showers or bubble baths. Chill in his 🌹 clear water

Would not walk outside if its below 12- degrees(its Canon that asmo hates the cold)

Beelzebub

When it's his turn to cook, 3/4 of the meal is already gone, half if ur lucky

He's kind and will do anything in his power and anything he's comfortable with for mc

Don't eat his pudding, or any of his food. You should know that from past experience.

He randomly just pats tou on the head.

Will ask you to help him during his exercises.

Belphie

Don't. Disturb. This. Man's. Sleep. You will regret it.

He would give you the cold shoulder when you get into an argument. Do it back by not even aknowlodging his existence and he will come crawling back. Just slips into tour bed at night

Make beel sad and he will kill you. Again. Or just ignore you until he's bored.

If there is anyone he thinks is being rude or is being pedo/lovey dovey to you he will end them. Unless it's Asmo bc it's not his fault.

One wrong move he switches to yandere mode-

This man probably makes to dream the weirdest shit ever, like one night it's about being a carrot in a chocolate factory that makes money-flavoured-trees that turns into a zombie apocalypse of the worms...

[1eos]

I don’t think she actually likes his music that much because she has said she doesn’t like ballads and he does a lot of them, but also I’ve never seen her talk about any of his music either it’s just about his visuals. she likes to interrupt the songs lines sexually for the most part. I mean I think we all have in a way but she got at the girl who translates the songs, she’s on here too. She made a tweet saying that not everything that sounds sexual in English is that way in korean and her and some others made tweets saying that they should be allowed to sexualise the lyrics as much as they want because he’s 32 and even vixx are known for innuendo and sexual lyrics. She tried to say that she understands if the fan is underage they don’t want to see their idol sexualised. What starlights are underrate at this point???? She’s totally missing the point. when her and her “minions” are quoting the translation girls lyric translations with sexual stuff more than anything else I think it’s a bit much. she can’t even not over sexualise any male interaction he has. like I’m looking forward to seeing his drama but not purely for the reasons she really wants to see it 🤦‍♀️

wowwwwwwwwwwwwwwwwww 😭 yes to be rude but what is the point of obsessing over one of thee few soloists serving consistent good music nd vocals when u don't fuck with any of it. go stan someone who gives nothing but face like that cha eunwoo guy!!!! or like half of nct don't stink up the leo tag for the rest of us omg.

and ofc she's a horny lyric person. ofc. and its like obvious that leo is nasty on some level we saw the artistic cum shot of touch and sketch but its like once you're over the age of 19 you should not be that obsessed with people talking abt sex in songs. esp on someone elses content where they can see it 😭😭😭😭 like screenshot and make your own post

and i know when happy tree comes out im gonna have to mute that heaux bc she's already obsessed with leo's costars for literally no reason (theyre not even super fine so its like...........................why) and i can only imagine the rampant sexualized infantilization will only get worse. and im not a prude like i believe in the power of talking abt gobbling, swallowing, dripping down the side of m but when that's all you do and you can't let a man make eye contact with someone without talking abt them fucking him in a baby bonnet. its just..............................a lot

[thickest-antivirus-programs]

Tw vent

I think i hate my mom bc she made me think getting bullied meant i deserved to be bullied. I didnt mint being told off/having people be rude to me as long as it was only verbally that much as long as i had someone who liked me, but my mom insisted i need to be likeable and normal bc shes ableist with my autism, she was always sensitive to me getting into the slightest trouble or being involved in trouble even if its not my fault. Anyway i didnt mind someone thinking i was lame but i did mind about my reputation because my moms love was conditional based on it. Its hard to explain the cruelty to a middleschool bully so i dont blame them. I actually think its cool if noone thinks im normal and acceptable and they think im weird and impossible to tolerate. But it was awful to feel like im not doing what is being asked of me. "Everyone elses parrents must love their children so much because they dont get in trouble even if they do trouble things, because theyre good at getting away with things, they know what to say. Im the only one in my class getting bullied and caught and being clumsy at everything, my mom must be the most dissapointed mom in the class" because being liked on the surface level is a stupid endevour, and all the good offers and networking, or at least like 60% of the offers worth taking, are done at the deeper level, where id like to think people judge you fairly on a deeper level. I like to think if someone misjudges me they didnt have much to offer anyway. Being liked is a stupid endevour, but being loved by my mom, who has full control over me and can take things out on me for 5 more years if she doesnt like me (until 18 i thought. The truth is to escape home you also need money).. "For my mom i must be perfect, because she wants it and she thinks she can get it, she almost believes in me although its in a category i dont care about and based on complete ignorance" like i dont even know how she would know if im getting bullied. I guess she asked me how was school every day and she expected me to say okay and if i didnt she expected me to have an explanation. She didnt get angry if i didnt say things were okay but she did this thing where she felt guilty so she would ask what happened and then make sure she told be how it was my fault so she didnt feel responsible (Is that what too much empathy does to a person who choses not to be compassionate?) she also expected me to bring friends which i never did. Its fair, a kid should have friends. That parts fair. I wish someone explained to kid me what im doing wrong that makes kids not want to play with me that i could fix, because autism blah blah but we can still be taught how to be team players but it takes so much longer to figure out when it doesnt come naturally. I wish someone told kid me "when passing someone, pick a side where youre going and look there with your head to indicate thats the direction youre going to avoid collision" "when trying to say something on topic in a group without interrupting, wait until the person currently talking makes a small pause but not in the middle of a sentence" or idk "dont talk about living in a tower made of skulls during break or the other kids will be scared of you" idk what i needed but an adult should know that for me.. But they didnt expect a kid to need that kind of help bc most kids figure that stuff out on their own. Although i did get told that i should keep my shirt on when its hot outside or in PE bc im a "girl" which is stupid and unfair bc the boys took off their shirts. Anyways now that i dont care about being a socially acceptable person i can talk to other people who are also bad at this stuff and we dont even have to be aware we look bad to some ableist. But im still mad my mom expected me to be cool and likable as if thats what she sent me to school for, and that she made me feel like the bullies are right

[yourmoonmomma]

hey can I ask your advice on this common issue? what do you think is the best option cause girl I have struggled with friends since forever. Every other person is either so self absorbed that they need jesus or idfk are people getting worse at communication and listening?

do you think its better to a) have limited amount of "friends" even fi you dont meet them regularly enough

b) those friends that only ever message once in a blue moon orrrr if they do ever meet up with you everything is abt them

c) or non at all bc everyone puts up a facade and you dont know which one is the real them

I feel like I have run into all sorts of people yet nothings stuck besides similar patterns in the type of people I seem to be running into. Even family and parents are sometimes a bit of a letdown as well or I barely get to see other relatives anymore. idk but the way society is currently doesnt give me good feelings and it seems that if we dont have or get into something early on we dont get to maintain close connections whereas others might just have been at the right time or place to meet their life long buddies. I tried clubs, online activities with another friend but it just didnt stick to me like that one thing would be all we had in common or they kinda didnt care to explore other activities that we couldve done well at together.

I just think and am concerned with how selfish people are becoming and how people dont even want to be accountable for nothing they ever did wrong either? Like you ask person can you not interrupt me but they will keep doing it over and over cause it seem nothing I say sticks to anyones mind. Then I get told off if im ever too loud or too quiet so I cant win with anyone. Even tho other adults are also loud and even more obnoxious than whatever im trying to do I jusr cant seem to receive the same attention long enough to feel valued

I mean say you had same age friend in college who kept turning down ur offers to socialise outside of their area / home? its rude asf imho, I even tell her that sure we can gift each other bday presents orrr we might hang out during class and such but anything else she didnt care to spend other time in my area or seeing something new or doing something new... every time I ask someone been rejecting me or almost ignore my existence even if they claim to be my "friend" I dont even tell no one nothing abt myself bc u dont know how the other person going to react and some people are chronic talkers or overshare too much and I think those types of people are more annoying to deal with bc u got to basicslly be their audience and they too also dont care that much to ask u nothing to show u no interest in ur intersts. it dont seem to matter what age or generation they be either. but damn people are getting harder to connect with bc u dont know what personality they going to have when trying to engage with them.

some people also outright contradict themselves or gaslight others in the same paragraphs or sentences too which make it harder to point out they doing it cause nobody ever wanna admit they at fault for something or other. so I cant win with that bc people seem to be so mentally asleep about themselves. I have experienced literal adult men throwing tantrums for over decade and got not a single response whenever I be trying to share my interest with them they just dont care or relatives idfk. I mean I can vent to someone and they show almost no emotion nor concern for my vent or problem. mostly bc they wont believe me or dismiss anything i ever say if they dont believe it as well.

same for those who dont ask how you doing? is the world just becoming so blindsided and cliquey, if we dont have the same level of interest that others have in themselves then they aint going to care but its been such a common pattern in my life and ik something was off when I was doing this fun run and was supposed to run with my "friends" but they ended up running slower basically to avoid me even tho i dont say nothing wrong to them then or at any point. idk why social rejection is worse feeling than completely being ignored cause at least I now want only peace in my life instead of buncha fake ass people who dont care in the long run but then life is less fun at the same time.

when ur a kid u think u can get so much praise and attention but when u an adult u quickly realise who really dont care in the long run or they can sometimes say they care but when u really upset with them they dont care to correct their behaviour. I think I been dealing with narcs my whole life bruh. sorfy for rambling thanks for reading

I think the first option is better. HOWEVER I am also a bad friend. Like I'll state it right off the bat to people. A mutual friend, Joy, recently messaged me saying she'd love to be closer with me, and I told her that I'd also love that, BUT I am not a good friend. I forget to text back, I almost NEVER text first, I'm flaky with plans, etc etc. If you need someone, I am there, but just as a general everyday friend? I'm not that great! So BECAUSE of that, your first option sounds better for me. But it may not be what feels best for you! However, I don't think isolating from numerous negative experiences is a good idea. I know it's hard to keep trying, but it will eventually be worth it.

You have to find the people who are more like-minded to you, and they ARE out there. Frankly I think you & my friend Jonah would get along REALLY well, you two seem to have similar personalities, or at least talk about very very similar things/experiences! You will find your people <3

Social rejection hurts more because you opened yourself. You're saying "maybe this will work this time." Your inner child is eagerly looking for connection and love and wants so badly for this to be the time you aren't rejected. So it feels like a slap in the face. You're right, if you don't put yourself out there, it doesn't hurt as bad!!! But you will also end up missing out on a lot.

And just know, you are NOT in the wrong for being hurt by those situations. I would be hurt too. I've been upset with a few friends lately who are always "so excited" to see me, but then if I spend a couple days NOT travelling to them, they will straight up ignore me or refuse to come over because it isn't worth their time. That shit hurts. So this college friend? I'd be upset too in your position. Likewise the running situation? I've been the third friend trailing behind another two while they talk. I've straight up stopped and watched them not realize, at all, that I wasn't with them anymore. Again, that hurts. GOOD friends? Don't do that. Or, if they do, they're willing to apologize and correct the behaviour. At least, friends who are good for you!

Also I'm probably gonna prove your point right that most people suck LOL but I'm sorry I have such a hard time answering your asks sometimes!! Big blocks of texts are hard for me to respond to unmedicated, or when I'm under the weather, or just... feeling my ADHD symptoms at all. Sounds like an excuse, but I am sorry, and I do always read your full messages, even if I don't respond <33

[aajjks]

BC!JK

you can't believe it. the man you want to take you out on a date has never taken a woman on a date in his entire life. it's shocking news because (not to be mean but..) jungkook has been with various women. although you aren't aware how long his string of women are you were expecting him to have taken at least ONE GIRL on a date but what he's telling you or rather confessing to you is that he never has and has no clue on what to do on a date. you wonder if this should be looked at like a red flag because in some cases, this is a red flag.

he must have messed around a lot.

you're sure at least one of these girls asked him out and he either broke their heart or rejected them.

you don't think too much about it but your shock is obvious and you can understand why he never asked. women came easy to him. with his looks and wealth combined, who wouldn't want to be with a charming guy like him? well, you didn't but look at where you are now and despite the disbelief you feel, jungkook tells you that he wants to make this experience the best for you. FOR YOU.

how sweet because this date should be just as memorable for him as well but you know just how centered you are in his world.

its been like that since the both of you were 19.

"wow, you've never been on a date? not even one?"

not one.

"huh. well, i guess i can teach you a few things, and don't think i didn't catch your little pun there" you wink before putting your hand up to your face in a thinking pose.

where is a good place to start for a date?

"lesson number one, choose a place that's fun for you and your person of interest. i'm not sure what are hobbies are but i love to paint, obviously, i love food, and uhhhh...i like amusement parks despite me being a huge wimp when it comes to rollercoasters" before you can continue, jungkook's mother calls for the both of you to return to the dining room.

"JUNGKOOK! I KNOW YOU ARE NOT SCREWING THAT BROAD IN MY HOUSE! COME HERE RIGHT NOW!!" she yells.

"pick a fun place then text me the date and time okay? we better hurry up before your mom throws something at me" you joke as you fix yourself up a bit before looking at jungkook.

you gasp "oh my gosh, there's a mark on your face! i-i didn't mean to hit you that hard. your mom is going to kill me" you bring your hand to jungkook's cheek and rub the small hand mark on his face from when you slapped him.

"here, slap me back so we can be even"

“ Are you fucking insane or what? YN… don’t suggest shit like this..” he whispers angrily, because how could you even suggest him slapping you? Even when he used to bully you, he never physically struck you.

Maybe he pushed you, but that was it. “ honestly, your slap isn’t really that big of a deal…. Got me a little hard but you know…” he giggles, winking.

Your expressions are adorable, because you make a gagging sound at that. “MOM WE ARE NOT FUCKING!” he roll his eyes because he wishes that you two were but maybe that day will come soon. “ OK then I’ll text you all the details now. Let’s just go and enjoy our meal he says, sighing, I’m just like that he takes your hand and it and guides you back to the dining room.

There is his father and mother, his mother is rolling her eyes at something his father probably said. What is Mother’s problem? She’s always so mean. “Here we are.” He announces his presence suddenly, and the couple seem to stop bickering.

His father’s attention is back on you and it’s bugging him a little because he’s so focused on you. “Father- you are staring.” he rolls his eyes, because why would anyone look at you for too long?

Jungkook sits back down and his mother is quick to point out his red right cheek. “Ugh It’s nothing I tripped.” He shrugs and you get a little awkward, but then his father starts to converse with you.

“Yn?! After the desert I’ll take you home… and I got you a little gift…” jungkook rudely interrupts your conversation because he doesn’t like him when your attention is not focused on him. He’s toxic like that but you’ll have to get used to that.

Jungkook doesn’t bother to reply to both of his parents question about gift until a servant comes in with a Tiffany and Co. Shopping bag.

His mother is definitely surprised, his father doesn’t really care, because he is still busy staring at you, “yn… I got you a pendant… I hope you like it.” He gives you a goofy smile.

You are his crush after all.

“please wear it.” he requests to you as he gets up from his seat and takes the shopping bag from the servant and puts it on your lap.