#i really just zoned out then drew all this in 1 sitting

[manwtv]

>:3

[nihilistem]

Hey! I read your study tips both posts regarding adhd . (Feel free to ignore )

I am still undiagnosed and I think it's adhd but i do not have the resources nor the environment or support system to do anything about it .I am a high schooler preparing for entrance exams and i really need to like get my shit together and i feel like i have wasted sm time already but i really do want to get better. When i sit to study i just can't focus if I keep my phone in some other room then also i would just sit and stare at my books without accomplishing something. I am trying really but it's feels like my brain is frozen and my body is moving .my brain keep screaming guilty and ashamed but i can't seem to do anything about it.your study post actually i related to a lot because pomodro kind of seems to be working for everyone but me and the you described the exact same things I do

I know this is a lot to ask for please feel free to ignore but how do I stop Letting my emotions take over and study consistently because I only have one chance at the exams

Oh my, first of all I’d like to say that, as cliché as it is, I know exactly how you feel. I was undiagnosed for so long (I was only diagnosed a few months ago) and I didn’t even know that the adhd things I experience on a regular basis wasn’t normal or neurotypical for so long.

first up : I know this is difficult, but please do not say such things about yourself. I’m not gonna get into the whole thing, (cuz I have done a post on that already) but it’s true that the more you drill that bad stuff into your brain, the more it’s gonna stick. We need our brains to be in the best condition possible to study efficiently and saying bad stuff about yourself that isn’t even true is just going to hinder your performance. You got this. I promise you’re not lazy. Your brain just isn’t motivated by the same things others are, but we can work with that simple difference.

I’ll make a separate post on how not to let your emotions take over, but for now …

adhd study tips for those trying to get into the habit.

— by a stem student with adhd.

here’s my first post on adhd study tips.

— don’t put your phone in a different room. Instead, download an app that prevents you from using other apps on your phone.

there’s plenty of apps that do this but the one I prefer is ypt because all its features are completely free and it stops your timer when you exit the app unless you enter ‘allowed app mode.’ I don’t know about you, but if I find that I’m just zoning out on my textbook then I end up stopping my timer and deleting the record because I know I didn’t actually study, and this motivates me to actually get some work done. The timer also gets me motivated to keep going for longer so I have physical proof of my focus time and studies. It will feel good to even have just 1 hour of study time on it, I promise.

— even if you’re not interested in your studies, try your best to find even one thing that interests you.

novelty, challenge and interest are some of the best motivators of the adhd brain, so use it. I know that sparking your curiosity for a subject you hate seems impossible, but hear me out.

ever since I was young, I was exposed to books and I drew everyday. This caused me to become very passionate about the arts, but since I had adhd and didn’t know, I failed all my classes and specifically hated chemistry because it was specifically designed to be everything that I can’t be good at due to my poor memory and the need to memorize a TON of concepts. Then during class one day, I was doing chemistry work with my friends and felt frustrated that they could easily balance equations and work out which compounds were acids or bases purely by its chemical formula. And that’s what sparked me to start reading my textbook to see what the big deal was. How was it possible for one to just know when something is a acid solely from looking at a bunch of letters? This started a chain reaction; I found my answer, and found that the process of finding my answer and learning this new information was fulfilling. So I looked at all the other chemistry topics, and it turns out chemistry was fun. I was supposed to be an art student but now I’m majoring in chemistry and biology, all because of that sense of challenge and curiosity I was given that day.

tdlr; I was bad at chemistry but I’m now majoring in it because I felt challenged by a friend and was curious to know how they could solve chem equations easily.

All it took was a bit of curiosity. It’s a very powerful thing to the adhd brain. And if you use this as a motivator for your studies it might even cause you to hyper-fixate on your work, which means you’ll naturally spend more time studying just to find all the answers you’re now dying to know.

— use the pomodoro timer, but think about the things that you have to do that seems a little impossible to do under 25 minutes.

This fulfills the ‘challenge’ category I mentioned in the previous tip.

Let me explain; I subconsciously started doing this to myself without anyone telling me this and it’s helped me a LOT. Here’s an example;

“This chapter’s too long, it’s impossible to read through everything and understand the key concepts in just twenty five minutes.”

is it, though?

So I was off to the races, genuinely reading through every page and taking note of every single heading or bold or italicized word so I will be able to summarize the entire topic by the time the twenty five minutes is up.

And it doesn’t even matter if you don’t make that twenty five minute mark, because you’ll feel a sense of defeat and try it again with another chapter/topic.

this accomplishes two things; one, the work you’ve been putting off or zoning out on is now probably 20% - 50% completed and now you feel motivated to continue. Two, this method will train you to be faster in learning or studying new material or even just completing work in general, depending on what you’re challenging yourself to do.

— dress up, do your hair, study at a library or cafe you love (and possibly make pretty notes.)

I’ve talked about interest, I’ve talked about challenge, and now I’m gonna talk about novelty.

Do this with purpose! But what do I mean by that?

I’m sure you’ve come across studious girls in media or even people on social media making videos and taking pretty photos of their day out to study. Usually they’re dressed the part and even if they’re not, there’s a certain vibe, aesthetic or aura about them that is just so desirable that it makes you wish you were doing what they were doing. And if you don’t feel this way, find content creators or media that do make you feel this way.

How will this help me? Well, there are actually a few reasons but the first one that comes to mind is that this is also an adhd tip used outside of studying. Combining a task you don’t want to do with a task you’d like to do is a faster and more efficient way of convincing yourself to do long, difficult or even tiring tasks. Another is that doing this would also mean you’ve technically gotten yourself to desire studying, something more commonly known as romanticizing studying. If you make studying look fun, glamorous or even desirable for yourself then you’re sure to get to the hideous parts of it. Think about being a straight A student, someone who’s always wearing nice clothes with great hair and such a focused work ethic. Once you desire to be that person and you dress like that person, you’ll start to do the things that person will do.

— use the pomodoro timer but set it to even shorter bursts instead. (e.g. 15 minutes work, 5 minutes break.)

Or hell, on my worst days I set it to 5 minutes work, 5 minutes break.

The whole point of this exercise is to just start, because that’s arguably the hardest part about studying, you can’t get yourself to actually start or to actually focus. So promise yourself a five minute break after a very short amount of time of reading.

— skip straight to the questions of a topic, try to do them and identify the information you need to get the answer right.

For example, I came across a bio question that was rather simple but I didn’t know the answer to because I haven’t revised the topic for a while, and the question was, what is needed in the body for anaerobic respiration to take place? And the answer was simple, but I didn’t know because again, I didn’t study the material before answering the paper.

one’s brain can have the habit of being complacent especially when you don’t wanna do work, so diving head first into the questions and realizing that you don’t know jack shit would be a good wake up call for you and your brain—and this can connect to the second point that I made because you might find that you’d be eager to get the answer right all on your own, and become curious as to what the answer is.

important to remember …

erase everything bad that you were told or led to believe about studying. I promise that if you look for ways to make it engaging for you and form a habit, studying can be something you don’t dread or worry about everyday. You are capable. This is the start of your journey. Yes, the question of ‘what if I get distracted again’ will always be there but think about what could happen if today is the first day you’re not distracted. If you don’t at least try to start now, you will have zero chance of being able to actually focus and study. But if you try, the worst that will happen is that you tried. If you keep trying, it will happen. I promise.

If you need any more tips regarding adhd, (or being undiagnosed,) please do let me know. I’ll do my best to help.

[spectacled-renegade-writes]

An Early Start - Chapter 6 - Danny Phantom

Ao3: Here | Chapter 1: Here

Ao3 Description: The accident that turns Danny half-ghost happens when he is four years old and leaves him trapped in the Ghost Zone. Clockwork finds him and takes him in to raise. But what happens when Clockwork sends Danny back to the human-world ten years later when a permanent portal appears?

Chapter 6:

All things considered, Danny should love the holidays. However, when it came down to it, the holiday truce only reaffirmed how lonely he really is. It was the one day of the year that the other ghosts in the Ghost Zone would actually talk to him. At first he loved it, thought it was nice. But, once the clock struck midnight, and Christmas drew to a close, they would immediately go back to avoiding him, and it stung.

At least, until one fateful Christmas party.

Just months after the incident with the dragon, which Danny learned was named Prince Aragon, Danny and Clockwork dressed in their best and made their way to the annual holiday party, just like every year. Danny didn’t know why Clockwork always went, in all honesty. To Danny, he seemed above it, but not in a haughty way. More of like… well, more of like a grain of sand compared to a beach kind of way. Nevertheless, Clockwork would make sure to look his best, then turn to Danny to make sure he did as well, and the two of them would set off.

They arrived not first nor last, and was greeted with cheers and good tidings. Physically speaking, Danny was the second youngest one there. Below him in age was Youngblood and above, a ghost named Sidney Poindexter. Existence though, they were both years ahead of him and Danny was the youngest ghost by a landslide. It was almost odd being in a pair with what was most definitely the oldest ghost there. Clockwork went to mingle and Danny did what he did every year. He sat in the corner and waited for it to be over. He saw no point in trying to strike up a conversation when all these ghosts would just ignore him the very next day.

Still, the loneliness crushed him as laughter and light filled the air. On the other side of the room, Ember sang a duet of “Baby it’s Cold Outside" with Kitty, Youngblood pulled open a Christmas cracker with the Lunch Lady, and the Box Ghost discussed the perfect way to wrap a present with Skulker. No doubt Skulker would use those wrapping techniques in his traps at a later time. Danny looked to Clockwork, who was in deep discussion with Desiree about something Danny could not hear. He sighed and bowed his head, pulling his legs closer to his chest.

“Seem lonely over here, kiddo.”

Danny looked up. Standing before him was Sidney Poindexter, two cups of eggnog in his hands. Sidney kneeled down and offered one to Danny. Danny didn’t want to be rude so he took the offered drink, but still glanced away and said nothing. He expected Sidney to go away after this, hoped he would, but instead the ghost moved and took a seat next to him on the floor. “You know,” Sidney said. “This holiday party is for all ghosts. That includes half ghosts, too. So why do you always sit in the corner every year?”

This was the very first time Sidney Poindexter has ever talked to Danny. Danny wanted to say just that in response. But he didn’t. Instead, he shrugged.

“Well, we’d be mighty chipper if you did decide to join!”

Chipper. Right. “What about tomorrow?” Danny whispered. He wasn’t looking at Poindexter but he could feel the way the young ghost uncomfortably shifted.

“Tomorrow?”

“Would you still be chipper tomorrow?” Danny asked. “Tomorrow no one will want to hang out with me, nor be my friend.” He finally turned to look at Sidney, and Danny’s eyes held an indescribable kind of hurt. “It’s the same every year. This,” he gestured around. “None of this is real. So, why bother?”

Something indescribable of his own crossed Sidney’s expression. “I –“

“Maybe I should go.” Danny mumbled, glancing back down. He didn’t want to spoil the mood on the one day a year everyone got along. So, he made to get up but a surprising hand on his wrist stopped him.

“I never thought of it that way,” Sidney said. “All this time… we were being bullies, weren’t we?”

Danny kept his gaze down and stared at the hand holding his wrist. “I wouldn’t say that…” He mumbled.

“But it’s true.” Sidney insisted. “All this time we tried to avoid you. In our attempts to prevent upsetting you, we did just that along the way.” Realization seemed to wash over him. “And all this time, still, what we feared never came to pass."

Danny shrugged. “I don’t want to hurt anyone.”

“Well, Danny Phantom,” Since the incident with the dragon, his name has spread from one mouth to another across the entire Ghost Zone. “Let me end that right here and now. Come, celebrate Christmas, and I promise that come tomorrow, I will still accept your company!”

“You…” Danny gazed back up. “You really mean that?”

“I swear it.” Sidney promised. “I’ve been a bully this whole time when I should have been a friend.”

And Danny... he smiled. A friend. He stood up and brought Sidney with him. “Okay.”

It was the very first Christmas, in his whole life, that Danny ever enjoyed. He cracked Christmas crackers, ate warm Christmas goose, and joined Ember in instrumentals during holiday karaoke. He was no singer but Clockwork taught him many instruments during their time together. He was having such a good time that he didn’t notice the way Clockwork smiled at him from across the room. Didn’t realize that this day is why Clockwork kept dragging him to these things every year. For the first time in a long time, Danny got to be a kid, and it was wonderful.

-

Danny and Sidney became fast friends after that. Sidney was weird and awkward but it worked out because Danny was too, in his own different way. Still, it took Danny a while to get used to suddenly having a friend. He’s been lonely for so long that spending his day in the Ghost Zone with company felt oddly overwhelming sometimes, and sometimes he found himself wishing to be alone by choice. He worked up the courage to express this to Sidney one day.

“I understand.” Sidney responded. “When I was alive I didn’t have any friends either. Then in death, too. But after a while I figured, well, I’m dead, can’t get worse than this! Might as well try to put myself out there. I get by but I feel that way too, sometimes.” They were both sitting on a rock, near the Far Frozen, to watch the aura borealis. “I don’t think that feeling ever fully goes away.”

Danny thought about that. For the first time in a long time, he thought about his sister, and his old life. “I think it was that way when I was alive, too. Fully alive I mean, before I became half ghost.” He was sitting cross-legged but moved to lay on his back with his hands behind his head. “I had a sister. Well, still have... I think. But she was the only person I ever really talked to. My parents were always in the basement working on their experiments and Jazz… she took care of me. She’s the thing I remember most about my old life.

“Then one day,” Danny continued, stretching his arms above his head. “One day she had to go to school and me... I was left alone. So… I think it’s just always been like that.”

“Well, not anymore, pal.” Sidney mirrored Danny's action of laying on his back and folding his hands behind his head. “From now on you’ve got me. No more lonely days for you, buster.”

Danny chuckled at that. “Sounds good.”

~~~~~~~~

Ao3 Notes: Sorry if there are any grammatical errors in this chapter. I had to edit this one on my phone. Thank you for your support and have a lovely day/night! <3

[wunidz]

Richard and Sonic the Tulpa

TW// blood, self harm, Tulpamancy, abuse, drug abuse, pills, school massacre, death and murder

I’m Richard Pastel, I don't have any social life nor any friends, just acquaintances that barely tolerate me. I've been jobless for about two years, I'm barely living by a thread at my university. My comfort series is Sonic The Hedgehog, I love the series with the amazing gameplay to the funny shows and the complicated comics. I love the blue blur, he’s so cool in every aspect.

As I was searching up random shit on Reddit, I came up with a new discoverie, Tulpas, some kind of imaginary-friend on steroids? From what I've read I can make one with my mind, to be whatever I want it to be, a being materialized in my brain.

I want one. I deserve a friend, I’m tired of being alone, I'll create one, and make it my best friend forever…

I went all out, I went to all of the posts that talked about it, and started taking notes on how to do it step by step.

I could not wait, I was so excited, I can finally have someone to talk to! someone who would understand me, someone who wouldn’t abandon me.

Now, it’s pretty obvious who’s gonna be the lucky one, Sonic. I've loved him since I was a child. His games,shows and comics were there for me, now HE will be here for me.

So it started, I wrote some notes on how Sonic would act, his personality, basically how I want him to be, alongside I drew a small doodle of him, sadly I messed up by how fast I was doing it, I colored his arms blue, such a dumb mistake, god dammit.

But let’s get to the point. I've set up in my bed laying on the wall, while my computer was playing Marble Zone from Sonic 1, I closed my eyes and started… praying? 

I was really concentrating on creating Sonic, I didn't open my eyes for a while.

until, i’ve heard something, I opened my eyes, the sound continued, was coming off the kitchen, i’ve ran into there to see what happened, 

Standing there it was, Sonic the Hedgehog, the blue blur himself, but there were some noticeable differences, he was not wearing his gloves nor his shoes, and his arms were blue? But i was too excited to care about it now, I couldn't believe it, it worked! My cheeks were burning from happiness

“You good there lil buddy?”

“IT WORKED! IT WORKED!”

I jumped up and down

“Hey buddy! Slow down there!!”

“Sorry- I just got a little excited”

I kneel down to be in his view.

“So, you’re the tulpa I created?”

“Yup! on the flesh! Or whatever i’m made out of haha”

“Hehe, What an awful joke!”

Sonic made a silly face.

We get out of the dorm and went to the campus.

“What a beautiful day!”

Sonic said while running in circles around me.

After we spent the afternoon walking and taking interviews for job opportunities, I got in my dorm.

I invited Sonic to my room, and he rapidly sat in my bed.

“damn what’s all this stuff? How do you sleep in here?”

He remarked looking at all my hoarding stored in my bed.

I felt pretty offended, so I ignored the question.

I lay in bed and fastly sleep

The tulpa decided to sleep next to me, similar to a cat.

I slowly wake up, to a sound of Sonic trying to wake me up

“Richard, wake up, wake up you’re gonna be late for class!!” 

“uuuugh okay, i’m getting up!”

I get my materials packed up and go to the classroom, and there i am sitting alone near the window again, but now i have Sonic, he sit on the empty chair, he gives me a huge smile, i give back a small smile

the lesson goes as normal, as i was leaving Tom raynott came up to me

“Hey there Rich! How’s it going my guy?”

“What do you want Raynott?”

“Sorry to bother you, but you’re still looking for a job, right? Me and friends found a ice cream shop nearby that’s hiring and i though-”

“You think I need your help?! I can do this myself, I don't need your pity, okay, Raynott?!”

Kyle Goldman get’s in front of Tom, towering over me.

“Look my guy, Tom just wanted to help you, I don't know why you’re acting up like this!”

“Kyle it’s okay-”

I let out a sigh before I left the classroom, and when I was in the corridor I heard Tom’s voice from the classroom.

“See you next class Richard!”

Walking to the cafeteria, i heard fast footsteps behind me, ii give a look behind my shoulder and see Sonic

“Hey Rich, what happened there?”

“Look, i don’t like people rubbing my struggles in my face”

“Don’t you think he was trying to help?-” “Are you just gonna be nagging me? Look i don’t need help”

“i’m sorry…”

“let’s just get something to eat, i’m starving”

“Yeah me too…”

We get to the cafeteria, get a basic cheap lunch, i fastly eat it, and I see Sonic with a sad expression.

“I still feel hungry…”

“Me too, but I barely have money to buy anything that will fill my belly.”

“Oh…”

“Just let’s go…”

“Okay…”

We get in class, as the professor talks, i get light headed, not a surprised, this is normal at this point, i briefly try to close my eyes, but Sonic comes up to me, talks loud so i don’t sleep

“Rich! Don’t sleep, you need to pay attention!”

“Richard! Wake up!! Wake up!!”

“CAN YOU SHUT THE FUCK UP!”

Then I notice everyone starts to look at me, And the professor glares at me with an angry expression.

“Sir Pastel, if you don’t want to take this class, the door is right there, I think it is better for you to leave if you’re gonna keep up this attitude.”

Everyone starts to laugh, I pick my bag, and quickly get out of the classroom, my eyes watering in rage by the shame I felt. As i fastly walked to my dorm room, I slammed the door shut, I sat in my bed and started crying. Sonic gets near me.

“Rich, Why did you scream? You needed to pay attention to the class!”

“THIS IS ALL YOUR FAULT! WHY CAN’T YOU LEAVE ME ALONE AND SHUT THE FUCK UP FOR FIVE SECONDS?!”

“I’m… only trying to help… I'm sorry…”

“I AM TIRED OF YOUR BULLSHIT, WHY DON’T YOU DO WHAT I TELL YOU?? WHY CAN’T YOU JUST- AARRGH”

Sonic looks down with an expression of guilt and fear, almost crying.

“I’m so-sorry…”

I get a boxcutter in my drawer, I extend it, and fastly cut my wrist.

“AAAHHH!!! w-wha…” 

I get scared by the sudden scream coming from Sonic, he’s holding his wrist, with blood coming out of it, the same spot i cutted it my wrist.

“What was that?!”

“you… hurted me…”

“I did nothing to you!”

“it hurts…”

“Can you stop whining??”

“Rich, please, it hurts…”

“It’s just a cut, it will heal soon, can you please stop whining?!”

“It hurts…”

“STOP WHINING!”

As I screamed, I heard I knocked at my door, I let out a tired sigh and went to answer the door.

“Hey Rich! Just wanted to check up on you, is everything alright?”

It was Tom Raynott, trying to nag me again.

“I’m alright Raynott, please leave.”

I try to close the door me Tom pulled the door to not close

“Hey man, you had an outburst in the class today, you know i’m always here for you, just tell me what happened.”

He makes that cute but annoying puppy eyes

as he’s holding the door, he notices my bloody wrist.

“What 's that?”

“HEY!-”

He picks my wrist with a strong grip, looking at my cut, then at me with a disappointed expression.

“Oh…”

“If I tell you what’s happening will you leave me alone Raynott?”

“Pinky promise! just let me help you Rich”

“I’ve been hearing voices these past days, i can’t barely concentrate, and and i can’t find a job, and i’ve had barely nothing to eat, and I’m just tired… I just feel like I’ll drop dead at any moment.”

“oohh… i’m so sorry to hear that Rich, look, i can’t do much, but i can give you some help”

“I feel pretty ashamed, but I'm very desperate. anything that works is good for me at this point.”

“Well me and my friend Romeo are able to get some meds, I could lend you some to help calm the voices down a little, how does that sound?”

“Sounds great, thanks Tom.”

“AAWWNN YOU SAID MY NAME-”

I immediately frowned and slammed the door in his face.

With a muffled sound I hear Tom.

“HEYY!! Richh, don’t be so meeeeaan”

“Stop acting like this, just give me the meds Raynott”

“Oki doki! brb! And please, don’t hurt yourself, is not good”

“Okay Raynott.”

“W-what do you think you’re doing?!”

I see Sonic standing with a worried look on his face.

“...”

“P-please Richard don’t, i promise i’ll be better, i promise i’ll stop nagging you, just please don’t”

“I don’t even remember why I created you.”

He gets on his knees and starts sobbing.

I hear the knocking again, I open the door, Tom Raynott again, now with Romeo Jones beside him.

“Hope you don’t mind i bringed Romeo too!”

“Sup”

“It’s okay, did you bring the meds?”

“Oh yeah it’s here!”

He brings out a pack of Xanax and Paroxetine, I picked up the pack and thanked them.

“Thanks Raynott”

“Don’t forget to thank my pal Romeo too, he’s the one who gets the meds”

“sigh…  Thanks you too Ivey”

“Don’t need to act like it’s a chore man, and don’t call me that, just call me Romeo.”

“...You two can go now, i’ll see if it works, thanks for the help”

I close the door, and hear their footsteps heading out, as I turn my back and I see Sonic still sobbing on the floor.

“P-please give me another chance! I’m sorry

I’m sorry

I’M SORRY

I’M SORRY

𝕀’𝕄 𝕊𝕆ℝℝ𝕐

ⓘ’𝓜 𝓢𝐎ℝℝ¥”

He grabs my feet pleading to me, to not take the pill, i can’t handle this pity party, i can’t handle this brat anymore. In rage, I kick his face, it starts to bleed immediately from his nose, now he’s crying louder than before. I fastly get to the kitchen and get a cup of water, I drink both pills down, as I wait for them to take effect, I look and see Sonic on the floor mopping.

“I-i’m so-sorry, I'm sorry for failing you Rich… I promise I'll be better…”

I just get in bed and I try to sleep. As i wake up, i pick up my phone seeing i was late for class, i get my bag and quickly get in the classroom. As i open the door everyone looks at me, I can feel each one’s thoughts on me… and the professor looks at me with a very disappointed look.

“Hm… late again i see Sir Pastel, go to your seat”

“yes sir…”

I get on my seat, and everything goes as normal. Finally, that brat is not in my ear 24/7 anymore. I feel my head is spinning, and my vision is blurry, but I stand my ground. I won’t leave the class until it is over this time. And before i even know it, the class is over, Tom comes near me and touches my shoulder.

“Hey Rich, you good?”

“yeah, yeah, the annoying voice stopped now”

“Glad to hear that! Also would you like to change contacts? Since we’re friends now hehe”

“huh…? okay…”

I pick my phone and give it to him so he can put his number, while he does the same with me. 

“Call me whenever ya need Rich!”

“Thanks Raynott.”

He made a peace sign and left the classroom with his friends, with Kyle Goldmann strangely missing? those two were glued like moths to lamps, but whatever not my problem. I wanted to eat something, but my money ran out. I feel my eyes water, but there’s nothing for me to do.

I just get to my room, and get on my bed, just feeling tired and sad.

Why can't I do anything right?

I just want to die.

as my self hating thoughts consume me, i slowly fell a sleep

“PLEASE COME BACK, I’M SORRY I PROMISE I’LL BE BETTER PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE PᴸEᴬSᴱ”

I woke up five hours later, all sweaty and hyperventilating, I felt my heart sink, I looked at the end of my bed, standing there… was Sonic…

but he looked a little different, his fur had grown a little darker, some fluff growed from his cheeks and he was filled with bruises on his thighs and wrists.

“W-what…”

“I MISSED YOU

I MISSED YOU SO BAD

SO BAD

𝕀 м𝐈ＳＳ𝕖𝒹 Ƴόย

ᔕỖ 𝓢ⓞ ＢⒶᵈ 

my head felt so dizzy, i couldn't see anything, but YOU’RE BACK! “

“WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE?”

“The meds effect wore off, but i’ve learned my lesson, i promise i’ll not fail you this time.”

He looked desperate, but I was having none of that shit. I tried to get to the kitchen to get the last pills but Sonic was desperate to not disappear again.

“NO PLEASE, PLEASE NO, I PROMISE I’LL BE BETTER”

When my hands get near the pills, he starts screaming, and hears bleeding screaming, and I accidentally dropped them.

“STOP IT SCREAMING, STOP IT!!! AAAHHH!!! SHUT UP!”

As the screaming continued, it came to a pause when I heard a knock at the door. I opened to see it was Maxwell Jones, my neighbor. I think he heard me screaming.

“Hey mate, you good? I heard some screaming from my room.”

“I’m just- Wait you’re Raynott’s friend right?”

“You mean Tom? yeah we are-”

“DO YOU HAVE ANY XANAX WITH YOU?”

“No i don’t… but i do have adderall”

“Would that calm the voices down?”

“Fuck no, that’s a focus drug”

“Fuuucccckkkk”

“I can call Tom if ya want”

“PLEASE!!!”

“Sheesh, okay just wait a sec”

Maxwell picks his phone and calls Tom, i just observe while he’s talking

“Hey Tom, you know your friend Richard? 

Yeah the smelly one.

Look, he said he needs some help, and can you be here to help him out a lil bit?

he has been screaming, and i want to study, please come quick.”

As we wait, we hear some fast footsteps, we see Tom running down the hall, when he gets near he almost trips over himself.

“Sorry! Got here as fast as I could! Here I bringed some more meds!”

He brings out a small plastic bag with some drugs, I could not recognize most of them.

“Would these help silence the voices?’

“Well, not forever, I've noticed you’re not that well put together, so I recommend talking to a professional.”

“That’s not an option.”

“Oh..”

he looked at me with a worried expression, then he looked at Maxwell, Maxwell made a shrug expressing i was a lost cause.

“Be careful with those, just take one at a time, it might be dangerous”

“Is okay, thank you.”

“Are you really gonna do this?”

I see Sonic standing in the corner, strangely more tall and thin than before, with even more cuts on his wrists and thighs.

“I AM DONE WITH YOU. YOU JUST MADE MY LIFE WORSE.”

“I thought you wanted me? I thought you wanted a friend?”

“SHUT THE FUCK UP!”

“I’M ONLY DOING WHAT YOU WANTED RICHARD.”

“YOU RE USELESS! YOU’RE A GOOD FOR NOTHING, I HATE YOU, I WISH YOU WERE DEAD YOU LITTLE IMBECILE SHIT!”

“...”

Tears started to fall from his face, he gags a little.

I pick up the pills, he immediately notices my intentions.

“Don’t you dare Richard.”

I picked all the pills at once and gulp them down, was hard with no water, but I did it.

“NO NO NO NO Ňσ η𝐎 几𝕆!!!”

He starts to contort, scream, and… grow?

His body expands, his ribs tear through his skin, exposing it, his face disappearing, a X scar expands and his body gets more abstract. like gas is coming out of him??

“WHAT THE FUCK?!”

My head gets a little dizzy, it seems like taking all of the drugs at once was not a good idea at all…

Sonic… no. that thing, starts to laugh like a maniac, As the laughter gets louder and louder and I feel my body getting heavier, and it all went black.

As I slowly wake up, or atleast hope I woke up, I see that I'm in my bed, but… 

what?

I can’t- I CAN’T MOVE MY BODY?!

Why? Why? WHY???

As i try to struggle, i hear a laughter

I try to speak, but I can't.

Is that thing again, i can’t even make out what expression it’s making.

“Seems like your plan backfired hahaha…”

Those meds! I shouldn't have taken them all at once, maybe they’re the reason I'm paralyzed now.

“Exactly…”

It slowly walked near the bed, then it got up in the bed, holding my shoulders and breathing near my face, I could feel it like it was real. Is this really happening?? I’m scared

Please just let me go

“WHY??”

“KILL YOURSELF, KILL YOURSELF, KILL YOUSELF, KILL YOURSELF, KILL YOURSELF, KILL YOURSELF, KILL YOUSELF, KILL YOURSELF, KILL YOURSELF, KILL YOUSELF, KILL YOURSELF, KILL YOURSELF, KILL YOURSELF, KILL YOURSELF, KILL YOUSELF, KILL YOURSELF, KILL YOURSELF, KILL YOURSELF, KILL YOURSELF, KILL YOURSELF, KILL YOURSELF”

He screamed in my ear for what felt like hours. I wanted to cry, but I couldn't. I want to call for help, but I can't. I want to scream; but I can’t.

WHAT HAVE I DONE TO DESERVE THIS?

I DON’T WANT TO DIE.

“KILL YOURSELF, KILL YOURSELF, KILL YOUSELF, KILL YOURSELF, KILL YOURSELF, KILL YOURSELF, KILL YOUSELF, KILL YOURSELF, KILL YOURSELF, KILL YOUSELF, KILL YOURSELF, KILL YOURSELF, KILL YOURSELF, KILL YOURSELF, KILL YOUSELF, KILL YOURSELF, KILL YOURSELF, KILL YOURSELF, KILL YOURSELF, KILL YOURSELF, KILL YOURSELF”

It feels like days i’ve been in here, unable to move, hearing this screaming non stop, please make this torture stop!

Then he stopped, he looked directly in my eyes. Those terrifying dilated eyes.

“I promise I'll make you happy…”

As it said those words, I hear a loud bang coming from my door, It was Tom?? please Tom save me.

As i hear the fast footsteps get to my room

I see a dagger go through the Tulpa’s body and stab me in the abdomen. I could not recognize the person who did this.

The Tulpa fastly notices what just happened, but it screams in confusion and denial.

“NO NO NO NO Ňσ η𝐎 几𝕆!!!”

ACK!-

it got on my Arteries, I don’t want to die! Not this way, not right now, please… It feels so cold.

I feel all my blood coming out, I feel my bed all wet.

“PLEASE RICHARD, STAY WITH ME”

I don’t want to die, please, I'm sorry Tom.

“RICHARD PLEASE, PLEASE LOOK AT ME”

I feel lighter, and… i… can’t… hear… him… anymore…

                         X

“NO NO NO NO Ňσ η𝐎 几𝕆!!!”

“I Can’t feel him anymore… where did he go?”

“Rich? please… i’m sorry”

“What happened…?”

“Where did he go…?”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry…”

“Please come back!”

“I promise i’ll do better”

“i-i i promise i won’t annoy you again”

“Rich… please come back…”

As Tulpa was weeping, a police officer passed by the door and saw Richard’s body

“CHIEF! We got another one!”

“Wow, he got killed in his sleep, poor guy.”

“This is such a tragedy…”

“LEAVE!!!”

Tulpa screams, but they can’t hear him, so his only choice is to ignore them.

After some time a team comes and take Richard’s body

Tulpa tried to stop them, but he couldn't 

“LEAVE HIM ALONE!! GET OFF HIM!”

After they got in the car, Tulpa was unable to keep up.

“Please don’t go…”

[danpuff-ao3]

1, 8, 19, 28.

Hey Anon! Thanks for the asks!

1.) Describe your comfort zone—a typical you-fic.

Oh boy, here we go! Much angst. Complicated, messy characters & dynamics. Very intense people being very passionately (toxically) in love. Someone is a virgin. Ruthless highlighting of imperfections. Overly poetic eye descriptors. A recipe for pure self-indulgence!

8.) Share a snippet from one of your favorite dialogue scenes you’ve written and explain why you’re proud of it.

Oh no. Dialogue is the worst!! Probably my proudest moments are the dirtiest or the harshest, no in between. Though I will say a lot of my proudest writing moments period were from Contempt. Dialogue included!

"A great love story, is it not? The gold digging whore and the cock hungry slut live happily ever after."

"What do you know about happiness? What do you know about love?"

"You presume --"

"You were obsessed with my mother! You're bitter she married my dad, just like you're bitter I'm marrying Ginny."

This is just a piece of it, but that whole back and forth between Harry and Snape is so fun. I tried to keep them both in character, neither really backing down. It begins with Snape lashing out, Harry tries to get his bearings, Snape twisting every new topic back around to wound Harry with it, Harry not putting up with any of it. It has the angst! It has the rudeness! It has my boys butting heads! What more could a gal want?

19.) Stephen King once said that his muse is a man who lives in the basement. Do you have a muse?

I do! She is a fickle creature. I've named her Renata. (Listen, my car has a name. My phone has a name. My laptop has a name. Why wouldn't my muse have a name?)

28.) Share three of your favorite fic writers and why you like them so much.

Oh yay my favorite one!! Let me see. I was talking to ripeteeth last week about beautiful prose, and how I like to pluck random lines and tuck them in my pocket to think about all day long; and how I love the taste of the words in my mouth, repeating them over and over. I'm such a sucker for beautiful strings of words, so my favorite writers are those whose works I read and I walk away with pockets full of gold nuggets.

@perverse-idyll, whose works I've loved the longest! I've returned to her works time and again for over a decade! She writes Snarry so perfectly in my eyes; crafts the characters so true to form, and their dynamic is just as dark and explosive as I love it. Everything that drew me to Harry and to Snape and to them as a couple, PI provides. I could cry at the perfection of it. And I've honestly not been able to stop thinking about the latest chapter of The Afterlight since I read it! I don't have words enough to express my love of PI's work, so I'm just gonna wave her own words in your face in the hopes that you might understand:

Sitting absolutely still, consulting instincts or morals or who the fuck knows, Snape levelled a long, narrow look across the table. Long and narrow like so much else about him, with the smoulder of a low flame just beginning to lick at spilled fuel. It could have been contempt or calculation, or the effects of drinking whisky that literally burned.

It could be that Harry had just lit a match. (The Afterlight, chapter 3)

@ripeteeth who is probably most definitely a genius. I will blind rec teeth to you. "Oh teeth posted a new fic I've not read and know nothing about? You should totally read it."; "Oh, teeth posted a fic for a fandom I've never even heard of? Cool. Count me in." They have such a fascinating way of looking at things, and they craft stories in such a unique way. It's brilliant and different and absolutely stunning. They portray people and life in that merciless way I love; like they dug through the gutter; like they're elbows deep, digging into the gut; mud and blood and smearing it on the wall. All of the things no one else would think to see worth or beauty in, and they create a masterpiece with it. Blow me away, teeth!

“Why would I stay, Potter?” Why would he? Harry wonders. Snape had clearly always hated teaching, had hated children, hated their open faces, their sticky fingers. If there is no one to run from, if there are no arms to run to, then what purpose does he have to stay? Except. Except that it guts Harry, just a little bit, to think about Hogwarts without the sallow, miserable Potions Master. Somehow, and he is not quite sure how, it is not Hogwarts without Snape. The prospect of the castle left without the great black bat seems full of echoes and silence. It is like the loneliness of aging, sick with memory, glutted on regret. You can’t leave. (Strange Pilgrims)

@liladiurne whose work has the timeless quality of the classics. So much thought and care goes into everything that she does! She has so many interesting ideas; new ways to paint the world, new ways of looking at the characters. She is an explorer and an inventor both! And she tells of love so beautifully; sweet agony dressed in silk and pearls.

And so, it was clear to me, from the moment I felt his hand upon my back, that this touch was meaningful. Harry was not one for unnecessary or superfluous contact. He touched things because he wanted to, because he was unafraid of them and wanted to know their secrets. He touched what he deemed important. (Certain Dark Things, Chapter 2)

40 Questions - Meme For Fic Writers

already answered: 14, 2, 13, 38, 1, 8, 19, 28

[hahahahawk]

I’ve been reading lately, and not just audiobooks!

But mostly cheesy romance. From the library!

The ones I’d recommend are both of Lily Chu’s books and Under the Whispering Door.

I had Lily Chu’s The Stand In on audiobook from a while ago, so after I finally listened to that, I checked out The Comeback ebook, and read it all in one day. I stayed in bed with the cat on my lap/legs and my partner brought me food periodically.

Both books were really funny (if very similar) and pretty cozy. I really liked the daydreaminess of the stories and the “conflicts” never really stressed me out.

Something about both of her books felt like doing a jigsaw puzzle, where everything starts out a mess, but I know it will be a neat and tidy whole by the end.

***

Last night/this morning I read The Wedding Date. Absolutely hated it at first. The initial meet-cute… well the dialog was godawful. But as soon as we got Drew’s perspective, I decided I enjoyed having both POVs. Read half before forcing myself to go to sleep, and managed to do it after their first fight but before the big one, so I wasn’t actually trying to fall asleep while “stressed”.

Finished it this morning, and while I still don’t think it was good, it was not-bad enough that I waitlisted The Proposal. Didn’t have the “jigsaw puzzle” feeling, the conflict was more stressful, but I liked the side characters enough that I’m interested in seeing them more closely.

***

While we were away for Christmas I started Under the Whispering Door on the plane home. I didn’t pick it up again until last weekend, when I “went to bed early” then couldn’t put it down until I finished around 1:30am. Oops.

I’m not historically (in the past 10 years) good at “sitting down with a book”, but we also have a paper copy of The House in the Cerulean Sea, so I might pick that up soon.

***

I got the ebook of What Moves The Dead from the library. It’s my first T. Kingfisher book. I started it this morning between finishing Wedding Date and eating breakfast. I have no idea what I’m getting myself into.

Put it down for breakfast, and didn’t pick up after because now I’m in the crochet zone.

***

I’ve been revisiting Ilona Andrew’s Innkeeper books in their graphic audio form after reading the first 3 ebooks a half dozen years ago.

Partly due to the audio format, partly due to the cast/performances, but largely due to the content/attitudes, I’m not enjoying them so much this time.

I have a lot of nostalgia for the world building—the magic of the inn/innkeeper/guests relationship was a powerful metaphor for me for a long time. The inn is my mind, the guests are people I know and love. It’s my duty to protect them and treat them well. I have fantastic magic powers in my mind, where I can control the environment, but none out in the real world.

But… I don’t actually like how Dina and Sean treat each other. I don’t like how pro-military and violent the stories are in general. I don’t like how much space in the books is taken up with detailed descriptions, or how superfluous so many things are. (Things being “the best” or “the most” are pet peeves of mine. Perfection is just unrealistic and breaks immersion for me a lot of the time.)

I’ll probably listen to Sweep of the Heart when it’s available to borrow, then forget about the series for a while.

[awlfan]

A Wonderful Life Gustafa/Farmer: Works In Progress

(These stories will be uploaded on their own with proper titles when they are absolutely complete.)

Untitled Gustafa/Melody 1

Melody thought on how she didn't really meet everyone the other day. Sure, she got a few words in with the residents here and there and they all knew her name now, but they didn't really know each other yet. If she was going to do this whole starting fresh thing right, she would have to make some friends. Stepping out of her new farm, the young woman pondered who she should talk to first. As she took to the path, she spotted someone who she wasn't truly introduced to yet. "Oh, the guy playing guitar? That’s Gustafa. He’s a real character, always strummin’ some tune or another."

That's how Takakura had described him when she heard his music from behind a tree. If she hadn't been so tired... and worried about interrupting him, she'd have approached him then. But now she had a decent amount of energy and he was facing her this time, albeit from a distance. Making her way down the path, she gave a wave to the bearded man, who gave her a nod in return. He couldn't really wave and play his guitar at the same time. As she drew closer, she could better hear his music. It was a nice, relaxing little tune with lyrics about magic and nature. "Hey there, sister," Gustafa greeted before she could, looking up from his spot in the grass. "You must be Melody. Ha ha. I've always liked melodies, in case you couldn't tell." "O-oh. We should get along then," Melody smiled, but with a hint of nervousness. "Right on. I'm Gustafa. I didn't catch you the other day." "Sorry," she frowned, looking away. "I was afraid of interrupting you. I don't want you to think I was ignoring you." "Woooah there. You need to relax. I don't think that at all. It's all groovy, man." "Oh." Melody sighed into a nervous laugh. "You mind if I sit here?" "Go right ahead," he smiled and continued to strum on his guitar. "Did you want to listen or...?" "I... was hoping to talk to you. S-since I'm new here, I was hoping to make some friends... not that I'm insinuating you have to be my friend or anything! I just meant it would be nice to have- I mean! ... " Gustafa chuckled at the poor woman's display. "No need to worry, my friend. We can chat as much as you want. What's up?" "O-oh, not much," she rubbed her arm, avoiding eye contact. "Well, I mean... actually a lot. With the farm and everything. But I don't want to bore you with my life story or anything." Gustafa chuckled as he strummed away. "Like I said, there's no need to worry. Talk to your heart's desire. As long as I can keep playing, everything's groovy." "O-oh. Okay," Melody smiled slightly. He seemed genuine. "Well, my dad used to tell me about a farm he ran with Takakura way back when. I've always been curious about it and after he passed and I was having some trouble, I figured I'd start fresh here. I already have a cow and a dog!" "Far out, man. I love animals. They can have a better appreciation for music than humans sometimes." "You really like music, huh?" "Mm-hm," he hummed. "Me too!" Melody chirped. "Really?" he looked up to her with a smile. "Groovy, man. Groovy. So, what do you think of my music? Is it your scene?" "It's really relaxing, actually. It's like... calm with a little bit of bounce? Not a boring kind of calm, but calm... I like it! I listen to different kinds of music based on what I'm doing or feeling, so I guess I'd say it's my scene sometimes." "I'm glad to hear that. I really dig relaxing music the most. Nothing like zoning out and letting the music take you away." "It is a nice feeling," Melody smiled. "Yours definitely has that vibe." "Thanks, man. I try to make music that people can lose their worries to." Well, it's certainly working for me," she added. "I think I'm having an easier time talking to you than most... I hope that's not weird for you or anything. I just have autism and talking to people can make me nervous." "Nah, man. Glad I could help out. Feel free to listen to my tunes as long as you like." With that, Gustafa resumed singing as Melody let the calming effect take hold. After another song, Melody spoke up. "Hey, Gustafa?" "Yeah?" "I think I should probably get going. If I stay here all day, I won't get to know anyone else," she chuckled. "No problem, Melody. Thanks for chilling with me. Stop by again anytime." Giving him a nod, Melody stood and left with a smile. She hoped her other interactions could go half as well.

Untitled Gustafa/Melody 2

"Hi, Miss Melody!" young Hugh called from the forest path adjacent to her farm, waving enthusiastically. "Oh! Hi, Hugh!" Melody chirped and waved back, happy to be acknowledged, but curious as to why he addressed her this time. "Are you takin' a break soon?" "I am, actually. Why do you ask?" The child beamed, revealing missing teeth. "Can you play with me?! Mom got me a doctor's kit! It has a sthte-thoscope and everything!" "Well, I was actually about to visit a friend. Maybe we can play later?" she offered with a sheepish smile. "Aw," the little boy slumped. "That's what everyone else said." Melody frowned softly, not wanting to let the kid down. She really would play with him later, but she couldn't prove that. "Maybe we can play together at Gustafa's yurt? I told him I'd visit today and I doubt he'd mind a surprise visitor!" "Okay!" Hugh chirped before shouting, "Race you!" Melody laughed and ran after the boy, wondering if she could actually win if she tried. The kid was trained by an athlete after all. "Yay! I won!" the boy jumped up and down upon reaching Gustafa's yurt. Gustafa chuckled as he watched the boy celebrate before turning his attention to the young woman playfully huffing and puffing behind him. "Aw, man! I lost!" Melody snapped her fingers in mock frustration. "No worries, Melody," Gustafa assured. "Hugh here is a running professional. It'll take some serious training to take him on." "Yeah, maybe I'll stand a chance in a few years." "Don't worry, Miss! You just need to practice! Practice makes perfect! That's what Dad says!" Hugh chirped. Melody nodded and gave Gustafa a wink once she was sure he was looking. It was nice of him to join in. Gustafa nodded in return before properly initiating conversation. "So, are you two going to race all day?" he smiled. "Good exercise, man."

Melody smiled sheepishly and scratched the back of her head. "Actually, I think Hugh wanted to play doctor." The child nodded and presented the toy doctor's kit. "But I didn't want to go back on our visit," Melody continued. "So I figured we could all play together." Hugh and Melody both looked to Gustafa with pleading eyes. The man laughed and placed his guitar back on its strap. "How can I say no to those faces?" he remarked as he stood, walking over to Hugh. "So, what do we do first, Doctor?" The boy smiled widely, bouncing up and down in place. "Okay! So, so! I need to give you an examination! You're gonna be my assistant and I need to make sure you're healthy first. Sit down while I examine you." "Sure thing, Doctor," Gustafa chuckled and sat on one of the little wooden seats he rarely used. Something about sitting in grass, man... "Okay! I'm gonna take your tempature first." The child opened the little plastic case and took out a little strip, standing on his tip toes to place it on Gustafa's forehead, tilting his hat up a bit. "Hmm..." Hugh hummed as he 'read' the strip. "Good tempature!" Taking the strip back, he rummaged through the kit. "What do you do next, Doctor?" Melody asked, leaning against Gustafa's usual tree as she observed. This was adorable. Gustafa really was the sweetest guy... "Reflexes," Hugh chirped, proudly holding up the little toy mallet. "Will it hurt?" Gustafa feigned worry. "Nope! It'll just be a little tap," Hugh assured as he gave Gustafa's knee a little tap. Though he was hit in the wrong spot, the musician still kicked his leg. "See?! Didn't hurt!" Hugh repeated as he did the same for the other knee. Gustafa did as he did before. "Your reflexes are good!" Hugh nodded.

Melody giggled. This really was the cutest thing! "You're being a very good boy, Gustafa," she couldn't help but tease. "I'm just setting a good example for you," he teased right back. "Now we gotta check your heart," Hugh informed as he pulled out the toy stethoscope. As he placed the stethoscope to Gustafa's chest, he let out a "whoooaaaa." "What is it, Doc?" Gustafa asked. "I can really hear your heart with this!" "Oh, groovy, man. How's it sound?" "Sounds healthy! You're all good, Mister Gustafa! I'm givin' you a clean bill o' health!" the young boy declared with a proud pose of hands on his hips. "Next patient, please." "Thank you, Doctor," Gustafa stood and traded places with Melody. "Okay, assistant! You can take Miss Melody's tempature while I test her reflexes!" Gustafa chuckled with an, "Okay." Digging into the little doctor's kit, the man found the little thermometer strip and knelt down to place it on Melody's forehead. Oh, goodness... He was so close to her... When Hugh tapped Melody's knee, she didn't think to kick, momentarily distracted. "Oh. You might be sick. You didn't kick when I hit your knee," Hugh pointed out as he scratched his head. "Lemme check your tempature. Assistant?" Gustafa handed over the little strip. "Hmmmm... Looks like you got a fever. Let's check your heart to see if that's okay." Placing the stethoscope to her chest, the boy hummed to himself. "It sounds a little different," Hugh blinked, handing the stethoscope to Gustafa. "Oh, dear," the musician played along, placing the pieces in his ears and listening for himself. The stethoscope was so short that Gustafa had to lean in close to use it. This hadn't been a problem with Hugh, but having Gustafa so close was making her feel... different. Good different... Kind of scary different. "Hm?" Gustafa frowned as he listened. BA-BUMP BA-BUMP BA-BUMP "It sounds pretty fast..." he announced, growing concerned. "Are you feeling okay?" While she wanted to assure the two nothing was wrong, Melody found herself tongue tied, only able to nod. "Are you sure? You've gone red too. Do you really have a fever?" He placed his hand to Melody's forehead, feeling the heat radiating from her skin and spreading across her face. "You're pretty warm there, Melody. Maybe we should see Doctor Baddoch." "N-n-no no!" Melody stammered. "I'm fine! I'm fine!"

[nelll101]

Sword Art Online (ep.10,11,12,14)

Very interesting "ending" to the assigned episodes. Now I really have to watch the rest to see how this plays out.

These episodes conveyed complete human emotions the best. It also displayed human desires, no matter if it is right or wrong. There is constant self questioning of the characters about reality and what will transfer from the video game world to the real world. Kirito and Asuna fall in love and get married (really random but w.e.) and Kirito states, "Does our relationship only exist in this world?”. This questions not only reality for them but also love. Can love transfer through multiple worlds and realities? If this world isn't truly reality, is their love neither?

We also see that the SAO world has become extremely realistic to the real world. In level 1 safe zone, they've created a "liberation army" and the army actually antagonizes others due to something with taxes and forces them to give them their armor. There is some type of social structure going on and even some type of capitalism (I think). This is all things that go on in the real world. In the end we find out that Akihiko created this game to build his own reality from his deepest desires. He wanted to create a world that surpassed all our laws and restrictions. After all, he ended up doing exactly what he sought out. He created a reality within a reality of everything he wanted. When Kirito and Asuna state that they feel like they've always been here and Asuna relaying that she wants to go back but doesn't want to leave this world is the perfect evidence that Akihiko succeeded. Although this world isn't "true" reality, it is a reality within itself.

To talk about emotions, the effects one little girl can do in about 2 episodes is pretty surprising. Yui was found by Asuna and Kirito in the woods. She had "amnesia" and starts referring to both of them as her mom and dad. They build a strong connection and we see a motherly and father-ly side to both of them which helps build their character. After Yui kills one of the bosses, she regains her memory and we find out that she is actually AI and she is controlled by the cardinal program. Yui was put there as an emotional regulator for other players. She was unfortunately forced to sit and watch other players mentally decline into psychosis. But, it was something different about Asuna and Kirito that drew her heavily into them. It was joy and love. She was able to go against the program all due to opposing human emotions, but at a cost causing her to be deleted from the system. Yui was most likely put into the show as a way to give the characters more humanistic values and personification. Asuna tells Yui, "I can't smile without you" which I think shows true human emotion. Also, there's other examples such as Asuna basically sacrificing herself for Kirito when he battled Akihiko and the last scene when both of them are "dead", just shows how far love can really take you and that it can truly travel beyond different worlds.

[writemekpop]

Bad Romance (Part 1) | Lee Taeyong

Pairing: Lee Taeyong x Reader

Summary: Your boyfriend Taeyong wants to fuck you, but you're not ready...

Genre: Angst, Smut, College AU 

Word Count: 1.8k

Warning: Sexual Content, Toxic relationship 

Part 1 ⭐️| Part 2

Taeyong’s breaths were deafening in your ear. Couldn’t he try to control himself? For discretion, at least. You imagined every ear in your university dorm pricking up. Snickering. “I wonder what they’re up to.” 

Taeyong kissed you again, his hot lips colliding with yours.

His hand, ever so slightly rough, pushed up your shirt, sending goosebumps up your ribs. A moan sounded, deep in your throat, and Taeyong groaned in satisfaction. 

You felt instantly guilty. You’d told yourself your ancestors wouldn’t mind if you did this for him. But you’d promised not to enjoy it. 

Taeyong knotted one hand in your hair. You felt the other one slide up to your back to unclasp your bra. His hand dwarfed your back, sending sparks rippling up your shoulder blades. 

“Are you okay with this?” he murmured, voice husky. You nodded. It was a lie.

The truth was, you’d never had sex before. You’d barely even kissed a boy. 

When all your college friends were in the basement snogging boys, you would hover by the doorway, holding their drinks. When they began to tease you, you just pretended you couldn’t hear them. 

Even when everyone started saying you ‘batted for the other team’, it just felt like a relief. Maybe they’d finally leave you alone. 

You were a feminist. You fully believed that women weren’t shiny, unwrapped presents that had to be protected for marriage. But you were also a fake. 

Because the idea of sleeping with a stranger still made you feel sick inside. 

Well, Taeyong wasn’t a stranger; he was your boyfriend. So, you would just have to grit your teeth and get on with it. 

Taeyong’s hand slid down between you. You squeezed your eyes shut. It would be over in a minute; that’s what your friends were always joking about, right? 

Then, you heard the unmistakeable clink of his belt buckle. Suddenly, that was the most terrifying sound you’d ever heard.  

“W-wait,” you croaked. 

You clung onto Taeyong’s firm wrist. 

He was breathing hard, his pulse pounding under his papery-thin skin. You were sat on his lap – so you could feel how ready he was, and it frightened you. 

He would hate you for what you were about to say, you knew that. 

“I can’t. I’m sorry.” 

You rolled away from him, pulling your knees up and hugging them. Burying your wet eyes in your knees, you waited for Taeyong to leave. 

But you didn’t feel him get off the bed. 

Instead, there was absolute silence. A shiver ran down your spine. 

Then, his muscled arms were wrapping around you. Taeyong eased you till you were lying on the bed – fear closed in your throat – but he wasn’t trying to have sex with you. Instead, he helped you pull your T-shirt back on, and guided you so your head was resting on his chest.

You felt his thundering heartbeat slow to a steady, comforting pulse.

Taeyong pressed a kiss on your temple. For a second, your stomach curled; it was so fatherly. You mentally scolded yourself. Taeyong wasn’t like other guys. He was caring, and sensitive, and you should be grateful.  

“If you wanna go slow, let’s go slow. You’ll always be my girl,” Taeyong whispered.

So, you pushed down the niggling feeling that ‘always’ had an expiry date. It was time you learnt to trust someone, and Taeyong was the perfect person to let in.

---

Over the next few months, you tried your best to forget about that night. And it was easy enough – Taeyong was electrifying. 

You’d never met a man who could tell a Basquiat from a Banksy and didn’t even show off about it. 

Each night, after lectures, you’d sneak off to some gallery late opening, and take photos of each other for Instagram. 

Or, you’d just snuggle up in his dorm room and listen to him telling you all about his Art History course, or his dreams of starting his own gallery. 

You rarely spoke. You preferred to soak in his world, like a cat curled in the sun. And let’s face it – who wanted to talk about Maths, anyway? 

Taeyong was like a shooting star: totally uncontrollable, impossible to understand, yet hopelessly fascinating. You couldn’t believe why someone like him seemed to find you interesting. Or at least, worth spending every day with.  

---

The second time Taeyong scared you was a Saturday.

You were sitting in his lap, poring over one of his Art History books. Other than toying with a curl of your hair, or pressing a kiss to your shoulder, Taeyong was totally still.  

Sighing with pleasure, you flicked through the glossy pages – for the hundredth time. No wonder Taeyong would always say: If I wasn’t rubbish at Maths, we should’ve swapped courses.

Just then, you prised open a page you hadn’t seen before. You frowned. 

It was a scan of an old Japanese painting. In it, a wealthy couple were captured in a furious argument with a young woman, carrying a baby. It was entitled ‘Outside Wife’. 

You turned to Taeyong, finger on the title. “What’s that?” 

Taeyong lifted the book from your hands, then grinned. “It’s when a noble couple are forced to get married, but the man has another wife to, you know, satisfy his needs.” Taeyong chuckled dryly. “Unfortunately, that system isn’t available anymore.” 

You began to chuckle too… then your smile melted from your face. “What do you mean, unfortunately?” Goosebumps rippled over your skin. 

“Ah… it was just a joke. You know, we’re not exactly getting any.” Taeyong’s body still felt relaxed under you, but your muscles were tensing. 

“I thought you said you wanted to go slow…” you mumbled. 

Of course. You should’ve seen this coming. 

There was only so long a person could go without their needs fulfilled. And here you were, dragging your boyfriend down while he could sleep with any normal girl whenever he wanted. 

“I’m not ready yet, Taeyong.” You picked at the frayed wool of your jumper. 

Your throat closed as you prepared for what you would say next. “If you… need to sleep with someone else, I won’t blame you,” you whispered. Stupid, babyish tears were filling your eyes already. 

“Babe – it was just a joke! No need to get your knickers in a twist.” Taeyong laughed, and kissed your neck. 

When you still didn’t make a sound a moment later, Taeyong turned you around on his lap so you were facing him. Tears streaked freely down your cheeks – you couldn’t hide them. 

“Oh, baby….” Soft as a whisper, Taeyong placed his palm on your cheek and smoothed away the tears with his thumb. “I don’t care about your… problem. You’re my girlfriend, and what’s good enough for you’s good enough for me.” 

A small part of you hurt at the way he said problem, but you pushed that part away. You allowed him a small smile. 

Laughing, Taeyong pulled you into a bear hug. You’d never gripped his shoulder so tight. You were so lucky to have him. 

----

A few weeks later, Taeyong finally convinced you to accompany him to a house party. You knew what this meant. You’d been dating for four months – this was the ‘meeting his friends’ moment. 

All the time you were getting ready, your stomach had transformed into a pit of snakes. Excitement, anxiety, fear – they all wriggled and knotted about inside you. 

You chose a midnight-blue playsuit, in a glimmering velvet. When Taeyong pointed it out to you in the shop, you knew this what you’d be wearing. 

To be honest, you hated Taeyong’s friends. You were pretty sure Taeil had tried to sneak vodka into your coke, and Mark did nothing but yap on endlessly about his girlfriend in Canada. You were almost 100% sure she didn’t exist. 

But as soon as Taeyong’s mahogany eyes met yours across in the heaving living room, all your worries melted away like snow. All he had to do was raise one deep eyebrow, or pull his plump lips into a silly face, and you’d burst out laughing. 

Except, as the hours drew by, you realised you hadn’t seen Taeyong in a while. You were perched on the stairs, shivering next to everyone who was too zoned out to take part. 

“Taeyong?” 

Tip-toeing, you climbed up the stairs, calling his name. You pushed open each of the doors in the hallway, peeking through your fingers just in case anything funny was going on. 

But they were all empty. 

Just as you turned around to go back downstairs, you heard voices coming from the attic. Gingerly, you sneaked up. They grew louder, more defined. 

Pushing open the door just a crack, you heard:

“Really? My god.” 

Your heart jumped. You knew that rich, resounding tone better than your own voice. It was Taeyong. 

You considered climbing up to join them. But then, you heard something that stopped you in your tracks. 

“And the worst thing is, Irene thinks she’s some kind of sex goddess, but actually she’s awful. She just lies there like a limp doll, expecting me to do everything.” It was Doyoung speaking. 

There was a pause as they all laughed. 

Your heart was already twisting. Something about his tone felt… wrong. Like his girlfriend wouldn’t appreciate what he was saying. 

Then, you heard Taeyong say, “Mate, at least your girlfriend’s fucking you, even if she is awful at it. I haven’t got any for months!” 

Everyone in the group exclaimed in disbelief. You forgot how to breathe. 

“Yeah – I know. Y/n thinks she’s some kind of saint for “waiting for the perfect moment”. I mean, a guy’s got needs!” Taeyong’s voice was low, but to you he could have been screaming. 

Black spots were engulfing your vision. Gulping, you staggered backwards, out of the door. You didn’t want to hear what you heard next. You really didn’t want to.  

But you couldn’t help it. Not when Taeyong said, “You know, I don’t even feel bad about fucking Joy. I mean, I had no choice. If Y/n wasn’t so frigid, I wouldn’t need to. It’s her fault really.” 

That was it. 

You sprinted away. Pushing through the line of partygoers waiting to use the bathroom, you locked yourself inside.

Then, you curled up on the toilet seat and sobbed. 

It had finally happened. 

Your gorgeous boyfriend had finally realised that he was miles out of your league. He didn’t deserve the defect. He didn’t deserve the fake feminist who was too ashamed to admit how sexist she really was. 

Then, a thought entered your mind that make you perk up. 

Maybe you could pretend you’d never overheard Taeyong. Maybe you could go back to how you were before… Or maybe you could sleep with him and make him forget about all other girls. 

After all, you’d do anything to keep him. 

Anything.  

Read Part 2 here.

---

MASTERLIST

[une-femme-de-lettres]

 KINKTOBER Day 1

Knife Play | Zoro x Reader

Words: 1400

Content: kinky and suggestive but nothing really explicit

A/N: This is not exactly knife play, but close enough…

There was an unspoken rule between you and your crewmates. Whether Zoro was napping, plunged deep into an alcohol daze, or simply zoned out while training, you should never sneak up on him or take him by surprise. Ever.

So you didn’t really know what crossed your mind the moment you decided it was a good idea to climb up the ladder leading to the crow’s nest to bring him a blanket. It was a rather cold night and you thought it wouldn’t hurt for him to have something in case he needed some warmth. At least it was what you told yourself to avoid admitting that you couldn’t find sleep, alone in your bed, while he was on watch.

You quietly made your way through the trap door and closed it behind you only to find Zoro sitting in a corner, his head kept down as he snored softly in the silence of the night. You smiled slightly at the sight, noting the katana he held against his torso.

As predicted, the air was rather chilly in the crow’s nest and as usual, Zoro’s upper body was only covered with his green coat. You slowly made your way towards him, unfolding the blanket before bending over slowly in front of him.

You didn’t have time to lay the blanket on his sleeping figure before you were, in what felt like an instant, pushed back against the wall. The silence was broken by the sound of a blade sliding out a its sheath and you gasped, feeling the coolness of the metal sink ever so slightly into the skin of your neck.

Your hands still clutched the blanket tightly as you laid eyes on the glistening blade. Zoro stood completely still, every one of his muscles had precisely moved into a fighting stance. He was a couple of feet away from you, the arm that held the katana to your throat only slightly bent at the elbow.

You watched the tendons in his hand move ever so slightly under his skin as he gripped the handle tighter. The movement, while practically imperceptible, made the metal of the blade sink deeper into your skin, not yet drawing blood, but enough to make you feel like the coldness of it slowly seeping into the pulsing veins of your neck.

You blamed confusion, or surprise perhaps, for what happened in the next few seconds. Maybe it was pure instinct or maybe it was your subconscious taking over your body in this moment. But when your felt the blade on your neck, the sheer power that he had over you in this instant, in this position, you let out a moan.

You thought it was a gasp, or a sigh when it formed in your chest. But as it passed your vocal cords, your eyes travelled along the blade to his chest and along his neck to his face, it turned into a deep moan of both fear and anticipation.

You could pinpoint exactly the moment the sound reached his ears because his eyebrows, previously furrowed in deep focus, raised in genuine surprise. You could also tell the exact moment he figured it out as his eyebrows furrowed again, his eyes darkening and the corner of his lips bending into a smirk. He knows, you thought, he knows…

“Sorry I startled you,” you said, your voice a mere whisper, scared of moving too abruptly as the blade was still pressed to your skin. You looked at him in the eyes, waiting for a response but he remained still, his gaze baring into yours. “You can… you can put that down now,” you said, looking at the katana not sure what you were afraid of exactly.

He then took a step towards you, his arm expertly moving to accommodate the change of position while still holding the metal in its exact place. He was so close however, that you could now feel the heat radiating from his body, you could feel his calm breath meet your ragged one in the empty space left between you. The mere sight and feeling of his body so close to you awakened something in you. You slowly let out a shallow sigh.

“You never told me,” he said, making you look at him in the eyes again. His voice had deepened but that same smirk was still on his lips. You could pretend you didn’t know what he meant, but could you really…?

“I didn’t know,” you simply said, stating the truth, waiting for his next move. He only inched closer to you, ever so slowly, his every move precisely calculated. He was now so close that you could feel his breath against the other side of your neck.

“Do you want me to put it down…?” he whispered into your ear, making you shudder. You found his eyes from the corner of yours. You already knew the answer, but would you dare saying it out loud?

Zoro patiently waited for your answer. Your breath was still irregular, and you struggled to contain the rising heat inside your core. He had often found himself in a position of power during your intimate time together, but you never felt something so strong and enticing. The danger made it all the more exquisite.

“I’m yours,” you let out, you voice shaky yet your words resolute. As the sweet sound of your voice reached his ears, his smile widened. He looked briefly to the side before laying eyes on you again, looking at your mouth, your jaw, your neck.

“I like to hear that,” he said, coming even closer and gently biting the lobe of your ear, making you moan and close your eyes. You finally dropped the blanket you were holding this whole time and for a moment forgot your position. You felt the metal dig deeper into your flesh and gasped, your eyes suddenly open and you mind alert again.

He kept staring at you, drinking in the sight of you, helpless under his blade. You sighed when the sharp edge left your skin, only leaving a scratch where it had previously laid. Your eyes found his hand as it gripped the handle of the katana tighter, turning it every so slightly so that the flat side of the blade was pressed into your flesh.

He moved deliberately slowly to ensure you could watch every second of the little show he was putting on. He moved the sword down gently, letting the metal glide along your skin, down your neck, along your collar bone and onto your clothed breast.

His body, pressed into yours made you feel just how much he desired you. You now couldn’t help the flow of heat towards your core. You felt your nipples harden under the fine fabric of your top as the blade passed over your breast. The coolness of the metal against your perked nipple made you sigh in pleasure and he smiled again, looking down at your chest.

With extreme care, he moved the blade to the side, gliding in along the fabric, revealing your nipple from underneath. The friction of the beveled edge of the blade against your sensitive nipple and the imminent danger of having a sharp edge so close to a part of your body drew a moan from the depths of your throat.

“Do you like it?” Zoro asked in a breath. You looked back at him. An almost imperceptible nod from you was enough for him and he dipped into the crook of your neck again, kissing and nibbling at the skin under your ear. “We’re certainly going to have some fun with this later…” he announced in the shell of your ear, slowly withdrawing his sword.

You didn’t anticipate the void you felt when he did so. You looked at him in the eyes again and you could swear he saw the disappointment in your gaze. Once the sword was carefully laid down against the wall beside you, he pressed his lips to yours to capture you into a passionate kiss.

With the blade gone, you found a burst of energy within you and you cupped his face with your hands, opening your mouth to deepen the kiss. Both of your bodies ignited with a new flame, you let yourselves go in each other’s arms. At this point, you did not care to find sleep, you just wanted to feel him against you, to feel him inside you.

__________

tags: @some-piece​ I’m tagging you cause I saw your post and I think you like Zoro?👉👈 I don’t know if you’re into this kink though😳

[twinkleimagines]

*Spice it up*

1.6k words

(30 day request challenge )

Day 1: ⚠ Could you do a smut where the reader suggest they try spicing you their sex life with toys and then Drew or rafe absolutely is all game for it!

(Rafe is not a psychotic murderer in this he’s just an ass hole kook , but Sarah is with John B)

“ you okay?” Rafe asked as you as you walked into his very familiar bedroom, almost with an anxious look on your face.

“yeesss” You dragged out , biting your lip as you placed your duffle bag in between your legs.

“Are you staying the weekend or something? He asked considering it was a weekday and you had what looked like a full duffle bag.

Your relationship with Rafe had really began processing. You had only been together for 6 months but in those months you had became beyond head over heals with him. His family truly thought the world of you, even Sarah despite the fact she hates all of Rafe’s girlfriend.

But you were different. You scolded him for being a douche instead of feeding into it, you’ve made him more family oriented than he had ever been, and he had became more adventurous with you. He got out of his comfort zone being with you because he enjoyed how happy it made you as well as him.

“I can” you suggested looking over at him with your bottom lip in between your teeth.

“Okay what do you got up your sleeve?” he asked sitting up from his back being propped against his head board. You glanced down at your duffle bag for a second, your palms sweating , anxious and nervous to show him what’s in your bag.

“Princess what’s in the bag?” he asked as he watched your eyes spend longer than normal on the bag.

“Okay so, I have a kink, and I’ve never tried this with anyone-“ You replied, placing your hand down unzipping the bag slowly. Rafe’s eyes widened as he waited impatiently to see what you had brought with.

“I have a few things that I think would help with my certain um, fantasies. “ you said before standing up, the duffle bag dumping onto the foot of his bed.

You stepped back as you watched Rafe lean across the bed, his hands rummaging through the massive pile of materials. The first thing he had picked up was a small vibrator, then a little bag with sex dices in it with multiple gaming options. He then picked up a set of black fluffy handcuffs, his eyes glancing up at you as you watched his face for a reaction before looking back down at the product. The next thing he picked up was a pack of multi colored blindfolds, a whip, and last, a gag ball.

You began to panic slightly as Rafe continued to look over the pile, his face not showing the slightest bit of excitement.

“Y/n” he breathed out, his tone sounding like he was about to crush your dreams. Your shoulders dropped with disappointment before you frowned, looking down at your feet.

“ you don’t like it do you” you said softly, humiliation radiating from you. He chuckled slightly before shaking his head.

“Does this look like I don’t like it?” he asked causing you to look up. You grinned as you followed the trail that his finger was pointing to, down to his rock hard boner in his sweatpants. “I was just going to say I don’t know where to start. “ he responded before standing up from his bed, his height towering at least a foot over you.

“I kind of figured you had a secret fetish in there somewhere “ he responded, his voice an octave deeper and his blue eyes darkening with lust.

“Yeah?” you responded as practically a whisper.

“Yeah” he responded walking up towards you, so close that your perky breasts were touching his chest. “Especially when I saw how wet your pussy got when I did this” He said, his hand immediately placing itself around your throat, his hand applying light pressure.

You involuntarily moaned out, feeling your clit begin to throb. Rafe smirked at the sight of you unfolding under him.

“You just love it when im rough and in control don’t you” he said pulling slightly, causing you to lift up onto your tip toes.

“yes Rafe” you moaned out, needing more. After your response, he stepped back removing his hand from your neck causing you to frown at the lack of the pressure you so desperately wanted.

“Undress princess” he demanded, crossing his arms over his bare chest. You gulped loudly, not breaking eye contact as you unbuttoned your jeans, wiggling your hips out of them. His eyes roamed your body as he watched you undress in front of him just as told.

“Bed” he demanded pointing towards the bed . You turned on your heels, completely exposed before climbing on top of his bed, his eyes landing on your bare ass, lowering down to your folds that were glistening in your own juices. You turned around facing him, looking up towards him on your knees.

He leaned over nest to you, rummaging through the pile , thinking on which one he wanted to use first before he grabbed the pack of blind folds, grabbing out the black one.

“C’mere princess” he said as he held up the bindfold in front of him. You quickly obliged, sitting up straight as he wrapped the piece of clothing around your eyes, causing your surroundings to go dark.

“okay turn around” He instructed, helping you turn around. He grabbed the handcuffs next, placing them around your wrists. He then pressed against the back of your head, making you lower down until your face was placed against the sheets, your ass sticking in the air. The room went silent as you waited for his next move, butterflies fluttering in your stomach from the anticipation of not being able to see what Rafe was doing.

Before you knew it, you felt a sting against your right cheek. You gasped loudly as you felt the whip slap against you. He didn’t too hard to really cause you pain, but enough to give it a nice sting and a red line training down.

“Fuck Rafe” You moaned out, but he smacked your cheek with the whip again in response.

“I didn’t say you could speak” He spat out. It took you by surprise considering he had never been that dominate, not that you were complaining in the slightest. You quickly pursed your lips together, doing as told as you laid with your head still placed into his bed, your arms behind your back. You almost felt vulnerable at this point since you were completely naked, two of your sensors blocked.

You squirmed as you heard the sound of something buzzing behind you, presumably the pink vibrator you had brought. You jumped slightly when you felt it land directly onto your already pink swollen clit, the vibrations making your thighs tremble.

“Rafe fuck!!” You yelped out, the feeling almost unbearable. Rafe pulled his member out from his sweatpants, unable to handle the pulsating throb he was feeling , in desperate need for friction. He continued to hold the vibrator against your clit before sliding himself in you from behind. Your wrists turned trying to remove them, needing to hold onto anything at this point at the massive amount of pleasure you were feeling at this point.

“Youre so dirty princess” He replied as he moved his hips deep and slow inside of you, with each thrust his tip hitting your spot. “Letting me do whatever I want with you” he spoke before letting out a deep groan, lowering his head some as he continued grinding his hips into you at a painfully slow pace.

“Rafe please go harder” You pleaded out.

“yeah?” He responded , still not changing his pace. “How bad do you want me to go harder?” He asked as he pressed the vibrating electronic further against your pulsing clit.

“oh god” You cried out, the feeling causing you to squirm. “I want you to fuck me so hard” you begged at this point, feeling your climax building.

This time Rafe obliged to your request, pulling himself out before ramming back into you, his hips slamming into you before pulling out to only do it again. The sound of skin slapping together echoed the room, as well as your uncontrollably loud moans that you were sure the whole neighborhood could probably hear as Rafe continued thrusting into you at a hard and fast pace.

“im gonna cum “ you whined out, feeling that familiar feeling before it was suddenly removed, as well as Rafe’s body from yours. You pouted quickly, confused as to why he stopped. You felt him removing the handcuffs from your wrists before grabbing your arm, flipping you over to your back. He removed your blindfold from your face, before spreading your legs, sliding himself back into your soaking wet core. Your arms immediately wrapped around his waist as he lowered down, his hand placed next to your head as the other held onto your hip tightly as he quickly went back to the same pace.

He began whispering sweet nothings into your ear, how good you felt around him, how beauitul you looked bent over , and how much he wanted you to cum around him. Before you knew it your nails were dug into his back, his name flowing out of your mouth as you felt your walls clenching around him, finally feeling that release you had so desperately needed. Rafe followed along shortly after, his thrusts becoming sloppy as you felt his warmth shoot into you.

His movements finally came to a stop before he rolled over, laying down next to you.

“Rafe baby, im gonna have to get some more toys because … wow” you exclaimed causing him to chuckle.

He nodded . “ oh we’re not done” he responded before leaning up, grabbing the sex dices.

It was gonna be a long night.

*****

Okayyy day one down 29 more to go 😂😂💗

✨Like, reblog, and feedback is always appreciated ✨

[arrowflier]

Hi I don't have tumblr, so not sure how this works. Came across your blog though, and spent three days just reading everything you've written and reblogged. Such a fun three days! I have so many ideas for prompts, but the one I'm most curious about is what happens when Ian has a rough patch of mania maybe a couple years into their marriage and what kind of plans do Mickey and Ian have for either an upswing or a downswing of his bipolar? Thanks so much excited to see what you come up with!

Hi there! It's such a compliment that you went through my rambles, glad you're enjoying.💖 Standard disclaimer: everything I know about bipolar disorder comes from the internet. It's an important part of Ian that I want to be respectful of, so as always please let me know if I miss the mark.

Caring for your partner, Rule 1: Be There

When Mickey woke up, Ian wasn’t in bed.

That wasn’t terribly unusual in and of itself. What was unusual was that it was only 3AM, on a Saturday, and Mickey could already hear his husband moving outside their room. The footsteps outside the door were soft, restrained, like Ian didn’t want to wake him. But the following clatter in the kitchen was alarmingly loud as Ian opened the drawer under the oven to pull out a pan, and Mickey groaned.

He wanted to roll over, pull a pillow over his head, and block out whatever this was so he could go back to sleep. They’d been working long days, and sometimes longer nights as the dispensaries were all pulling overtime with increasing demand. They’d only made it to bed like two hours ago, for fuck’s sake, and Mickey was tired.

But Ian should have been tired too, and it was never a good sign when he wasn’t. So Mickey sat up with a sigh, rubbing his eyes with the heel of his hand, and swung his legs out of bed.

He winced when his bare feet touched the cold wooden floor. They had been here for almost a year already, and they still hadn’t gotten ‘round to buying a fucking rug for the bedroom.

Mickey shivered as he hopped awkwardly toward the closed bedroom door, grabbing his robe from a hook there and tugging it on over his thin shirt and the boxers he was pretty sure started out on Ian’s side of the dresser. Wrapping it closed, he slipped out the door and into the brightly lit hallway, squinting blearily as he followed the sound of pots and pans to the kitchen.

Ian had half their crockery out on the counter already. His red hair gleamed under the sharp light of the long fluorescent bulbs overhead as he stirred batter in a large bowl they had borrowed from Debbie last week and never given back, wooden spoon clanking against the sides erratically.

Erratically. That was a good word for it, Mickey thought. The mindless clink clink clink of wood on metal in no discernible pattern, just like the route Ian took around their table, to the counter, to the fridge, and back to the oven again. Mindless, pacing, random.

Mickey leaned against the wall, and watched.

They had talked about this, since the last time. At least, since the last time Mickey had been worried. When Ian was down, when he didn’t want to get up. When Mickey dragged him out on his first run and they talked afterward in the kitchen, when Mickey made clear that his worry was just one more face of what they had together.

He’d come down the next morning to Ian at the kitchen table, the whole place eerily quiet for a place they still shared with too many fucking people. There had been coffee in the pot, toast on the table, and Ian, picking at his cuticles and not meeting Mickey’s eyes.

“We need to talk,” he’d said, and Mickey’s heart had dropped into his stomach.

“Can I wake the fuck up first?” he’d asked, but Ian had just kicked a chair out for him and waited, not meeting his eyes, until Mickey sat down.

They’d sat silently for a long moment, Mickey unwilling to ask what it was about. Finally, Ian had sighed, and reached out for Mickey’s hand across the table.

“It’s about the bipolar,” he’d said, and Mickey had been so relieved he could feel it in his fucking toes, bare and cold against the tile floor.

“Oh. Okay.”

Ian had been startled by his easy acceptance of the topic, he could tell.

“That’s it?” He’d sounded almost confused.

Mickey had shrugged.

“I mean, yeah?” He’d rubbed the rest of the sleep from his eyes with the hand no holding Ian’s. “You had me worried, man, with the we need to talk thing. But this is just normal shit.”

Ian had just stared at him, then released his hand to lean back against his chair.

“Normal?” He’d asked disbelievingly. “There’s nothing normal about planning for my imminent mental break, Mickey.

Mickey had snorted at the irony of it. “You kidding me?” he’d said. “It’s the most normal fucking thing about us.”

As he watched Ian in the kitchen now, making pancakes at 3AM on a Saturday morning, Mickey thought that was probably still true.

“Hey, Martha Stewart,” he said softly from his position against the wall, still leaning there as Ian spun around with surprise painted over his face. His eyes were off, the light not quite there, but they still warmed when he saw Mickey.

“Hey,” Ian said back, voice high and too chipper. “I’m making pancakes, you want some? I’ve got banana, your favorite, and chocolate chips, and strawberries…”

He went on to list more ingredients, but Mickey wasn’t really listening. He could see it all anyway, spread out over the kitchen like so many half-made decisions, half-baked ideas that kept giving way to something else.

“Mickey?” Ian asked, and he snapped out of it.

“Yeah,” he answered with a smile. “Yeah, I’d love some pancakes. Why don’t you let me stir for a awhile?”

—

They had their pancakes standing up next to the counter, nowhere left to rest their plates on the crowded surfaces of the kitchen. Ian talked about the merits of each ingredient as they ate, and Mickey listened, and nodded along as best he could.

This was okay. It was pancakes in their boxers at 3AM with no sleep in a kitchen that looked like it was hit by a tornado, but Ian was eating, and Ian was smiling, and Ian was there.

And when Ian stopped and tried to set his plate down, distress on his face as he was confronted with the mess he had made, Mickey took the dish from him with easy hands.

“You want to sit down awhile?” he tried, nudging Ian gently out of the disaster-zone. “Bet you’re tired after eating all that.”

He knew Ian wasn’t, but he kept a hand on his back anyway until they were out in the living room, next to the sofa. Mickey let go to sit down himself with a groan, tired muscles aching at being used for too long without rest. He kept his eyes off Ian, just standing there, looking at him in that too-present, too-absent way of his, and leaned back against the cushions, eyes falling closed.

After a moment, the sofa dipped as Ian settled in beside him.

“Mickey?” Ian asked. The cushions bounced as he tapped his heel repeatedly on the floor.

“Yeah?” Mickey responded, squinting his eyes back open.

“Can I touch you?”

Mickey repressed the urge to sit up, to take Ian into his arms. Ian sounded too hesitant, a shift from moments before as he playfully shoved bites of overcooked batter into Mickey’s mouth.

But Ian didn’t like to be held like this.

“Of course you can, you moron,” Mickey said instead, and watched as Ian’s leg stopped moving. The other man drew closer, reaching a hand out to card through Mickey’s hair and drag down the side of his face, a touch too shaky and a touch too firm.

Ian had once said that touching Mickey grounded him, and Mickey hadn’t known if Ian thought that was a good thing or not. In the midst of hypomania, Ian didn’t always take kindly to being grounded.

But tonight—well, this morning—it seemed to be a good thing. Mickey was grateful for that.

Grateful, because it meant that Ian looked like himself as he moved to lay against him, and not like some over-saturated facsimile painted with too much water on the canvas, always shifting, always running. Grateful, because it meant that Ian pulled Mickey’s arms around him and settled into his side like they always did, even if his body never quite stilled at the contact.

Grateful, because it meant they wouldn’t fight tonight. That Mickey wouldn’t have to worry as much about what Ian might say, might do, if he stepped out of line. If he went off the script they had planned on a good day for dealing with bad ones to come.

He wouldn’t have to call Lip for backup. He wouldn’t have to tail Ian as he left the apartment to make sure he stayed safe. He wouldn’t have hide the knives, or their wallets, or anything else.

Not that he would have complained if he did. It was what it was. Ian was who he was. And Mickey would always see him through it. Love him through it.

They lay there, mostly quiet, except for the mindless tune Ian hummed against his neck, and the tap tap tap of his fingers on Mickey’s collarbone.

Eventually, the song cut off.

“Do I need to call the doctor?” Ian asked quietly into the echoing room, and Mickey nodded, rubbing a gentle hand through his hair.

“Yeah,” he admitted. “I think so.”

He'd get everything together in the morning. Ian's journals, their schedule, their meal plan. The little notebook where he kept track of Ian's prescriptions, how they worked, how long they lasted.

Something had obviously slipped, either in their methods or in Ian himself. But Mickey was well past dwelling on what they could have done differently, and focused on what to do next.

Things happened. Things changed. They would adapt.

At Mickey's confirmation, Ian just nodded against him, fidgeting until their legs were too entwined to separate.

“Sleep first, if you can,” Mickey told him, settling in for a long rest of the night. “We’ll do it together when you wake up.”

Together. They’d do it together. Again and again and again, as much as they needed to. Because Ian was his husband, and this was their normal.

And their normal was still pretty damn good.

[moonlit-imagines]

Misbehavior (Part 1)

Jason Todd x batkid!reader

warnings:

a/n: tysm anon!!

prompt: anonymous: “Hello Lacey! Hope your doing great! Could I please request a bat family x batsis!reader where the reader is Kind of the middle child (I was thinking older than Damian but younger than Tim) and she’s always forgotten and in the back. Maybe some scenarios can be that no one listens when she talks or they forget to invite her to do stuff. So then one day she acts up in school like maybe punching someone for no good reason because she’s craving attention but instead of Bruce showing up to get her Jason shows up and he sees that she’s actually really sad and starts to question her until she tells him everything and maybe spills some tears and it ends with just Jason comforting her and cheering her up. Just some soft Jason for my soul! Also have a great day and I hope that you feel better and more motivated now after your break! 😘”

part 2

No matter what you did, none of your deeds went unnoticed. Good or bad.

You always heard how Dick was so independent, the one everyone should use as an example.

You always heard how Barbara could do it all, she never failed to impress.

You always heard how Jason was reckless, someone who needed to get his act together.

You always heard how Tim was such a prodigy, he was one of a kind.

You always heard how Steph was so determined, she had such amazing goals.

You always heard that Cass was perfect, they’d never change a thing about her.

You always heard that Duke was so strong, he’d never give up no matter what stood in his way.

You always heard that Damian was dangerous, a kid that needed to be guided.

But what about you? What did they hear about you? Nothing. No one ever spoke of you, they didn’t have the time. It seemed as if you were just unimpressive, there wasn’t one thing that needed to be mentioned. Stuck in the middle of a bunch of bats and birds, no way to stand out in the crowd.

Maybe not in a mask or a cowl, a dress or a suit, behind a computer or among the darkness, but there was one place you couldn’t be ignored...

You sat at your desk, picking at old tape with the tip of your fingernail. The teacher had nothing interesting to say, so what was the point of being here? What made Gotham Academy so special that you just had to attend this place?

The uniform was overkill, the classes went nowhere, the students were too preppy, and you didn’t have a single thing in common with anyone here.

Anger was starting to bubble inside you as you continued your internal self-loathing. Your mind was only focused on the negative, but it was shifting from school back to home.

No one was ever there for you, not even on patrol. You’d called for backup several times on missions and nearly lost it all when you had to go in alone. If it were anyone else, a teammate would have met them in a heartbeat.

Your plans were always overshadowed whenever you tried to set up a mission or even just a day off. You wanted cookies? Too bad, Tim wants brownies. You wanted to watch a movie? Too bad, everyone chose a TV show. It was the little things that irked you the most. Half the time, you never even got the memo.

And what about when you all come back from patrol with all sorts of injuries and Alfred comes to patch you up? Well, not you. He’ll run to check on cuts and scrapes. Meanwhile, you had a broken wrist and a black eye.

You’d finally run out of things to pick at around your desk which resorted in you tapping instead. There was a brief bit of zoning out as you remembered the time that Damian’s plan for evading Killer Croc’s attack was to push you in the way. Or the time that Jason hid his guns in your bed for reasons he didn’t care to explain. Or when Dick drank the last of the milk and didn’t tell you until after you poured your cereal. Or when Tim told you that you weren’t fit for the mission he had been planning. Or when Bruce blatantly ignored the story you told out of pure excitement, giving you nothing but a “sounds like you had fun.”

While you were in a horrible daze, you felt a hand on your shoulder that snapped you out of it faster than the Barry Allen. Without even evaluating the situation, your reflexes caused you to turn and twist your classmates arm backwards as he screamed.

“Hey! Stop, ow, that hurts! Stop! Stop it!” You processed his words too late and knew exactly what was coming next.

“Y/N L/N!” You teacher shouted as you drew your hand back. “Dean’s office. Right now.” Her sharp voice sent a chill down your spine, not even the Joker could do that. You’d be able to explain the situation pretty easily, you just didn’t want to make it worse. But there was one ankle that sent you off the edge. Another student tripped you on your way through the aisles, and that student caught a fist to the face. The audience gasped and shouting from your teacher ensued, but you didn’t listen, you’d take the punishment at this point. So you walked right out and headed for the dean’s office without so much as a hall pass.

“Mx. l/n? What’s this about?” Dean Williams was surprised to say the least, you’d never been sent in for discipline before. Was there a certain way to do this?

“Well, I zoned out and some kid behind me grabbed my shoulder, I accidentally twisted his arm.” You retold your story, the abridged version. “But on my way out I punched a kid in the face because he tripped me. That one’s on me.”

“...Well,” the dean frowned at his obligations, but had to go through with some kind of punishment, “I’m going to have to suspend you for physical contact with a student. I’ll call your father to come pick you up.” You shrugged and slouched back in your chair, giving up on any hope of talking your way out of this. It might as well just happen. You listened to the clicking of the buttons on the dean’s phone as he typed in the Wayne Manor phone number, obviously reaching Alfred almost immediately.

“Wayne Manor.” You eard his faint voice through the speaker.

“Hello, this is Dean Williams from Gotham Academy, may I speak to Mr. Wayne? I have his child in my office.” Your dean explained over the phone, peeking back at your for a split second. You were completely unbothered, it was baffling.

“Is it Damian?” You heard him ask, causing an involuntary eye roll.

“Y/N, actually.” There was a long pause before someone else picked up the phone. “Mr. Wayne, this is Dean Williams at Gotham Academy. I have y/n sitting across from me right now, they seemed to have gotten themself into a physical altercation with two separate students, I have no choice but to suspend them.” You heard a deep sigh over the phone, then the handheld piece was handed to you.

“Bruce?” You asked.

“Really? Fighting at school?” He sounded unimpressed. Nothing new, even when you do something new.

“Something like that. Whoops.” He hung up on you right after that, so you handed the phone back and told your dean, “Guess they’ll get me soon.”

“You call your father by his first name?” Dean Williams had nosily questioned.

“I’m adopted.” He obviously didn’t know you as well as your more troublesome sibling, it was time he just minded his business.

After a good thirty minutes of silent waiting while listening to keyboard clacking and papers flipping by the front desk, the office door opened, and to your surprise, it was one of your brothers.

“I’m here for y/n.” He mumbled, signing the piece of paper and showing his ID.

“Alright, Mr. Harper, I just have to check some paperwork really quick...” The receptionist went into your file and checked for your emergency contacts. “You’re all set. Now, y/n has been suspended for two weeks. I suggest you get to the bottom of their little ‘outburst’ before they’re able to come back to school.” It actually pissed Jason off to hear her say that.

“I’ll keep that in mind.” His sarcasm wasn’t subtle. “Come on, kid.” Your brother gripped your arm and led you out of the office, noticing your bitter expression that he couldn’t even rationalize. Was that normal? “So what happened. Bruce just told me to come get you.”

“Of course he did.” You rolled your eyes on the brink of tears, he didn’t even come to get you himself. Jason opened the car door for you and nudged you inside, slamming it once you were clear.

“You better have a good reason,” he warned as he started the engine, “I was in the middle of a poker game.”

“Oh, yeah, ‘cause I’m such an inconvenience.” You were starting to remind him of himself. That was never a good thing.

“Okay, my bad. I didn’t mean it like that.” Jason began speeding down the block, you’d never once seen him obey a speed limit. You’d think someone with a fake ID and a death certificate would want to avoid any run-ins with the cops, but Gotham was just one of those cities.

“Yeah, right.” You reached for the radio knobs and felt Jason’s hand wrap around your wrist.

“No music until you explain yourself.” You fell back into your seat to pout, muttering some curses under your breath. “I won’t tell Bruce or anyone. I swear.”

“I just zoned out. Reflexes.” You bluntly replied.

“What?” He still didn’t have any context to go off of.

“I twisted someone’s arm backwards. Honest mistake.” Jason knew there was more to this story. “But on my way out of the classroom, I punched this kid who tried to trip me. That was on him.”

“As much as I condone payback, you can’t do that at school.” He sighed. “You’ve never been sent home before. That I know of. So why now?”

“Yeah, you know, maybe that’s the issue? You couldn’t tell me if I’ve ever gotten in trouble before. None of you could. You couldn’t tell me a definitive thing about me. When’s my birthday, Jason?” He was at a loss for words. “That’s what I thought.”

“So this was all for attention?” Jason asked. “There’s a hell of a lot of better ways to go about that.”

“Tried them all, this one barely even worked.” You replied with a crack in your voice. “How come none of you care about me? Why am I always looked over? I’m just like the rest of you. I put on that stupid suit every night and kick ass, I get my job done, I get good grades, I’m resourceful, I’m special—” You’d let that last one slip in your rant to your older brother, it shocked him so bad he stopped the car.

“I know what you mean.” Jason stared straight ahead at the empty road. “I felt the same way when I came back. After everyone was used to me being back, it was like nothing ever happened. Bruce just went back to calling me careless, irresponsible.”

“At least you get noticed, Jason. Your identifiable.” You turned to him with a pained look and he risked his confidence to look you in the eye. Once he did, he couldn’t look away. It hurt him to see someone so familiar to himself have tears running down their face because they felt forgotten. No kid should ever have to feel like that. That was why Bruce took him in. That was how Jason became Robin.

“Fuck this.” Jason hit the gas and turned the car around. “We’re getting ice cream. Do you like ice cream? That’s a serious question.”

“I...I guess.” You were somewhat confused by his sudden literal change in direction.

“Good. You’re my kid for today, all my attention goes to you. I’m sure Bruce won’t notice if you’re gone for a few hours.” Jason’s jaw dropped at his last comment. “I didn’t mean it like that.”

“No, you’re right and you should say it.”

taglist: @thatwaspossession // @ravenmoore14 // @thisetaernallove // @kinoko-kai //

[qoinq-qhost]

memories - dannymay day 1

“Phantom, hey, I need you to answer me.” Maddie shined the small flashlight across his face again.

“What do you remember?”

The ghost’s face twisted in confusion as he tried to sit upright, attempting to prop himself up in the rubble. He turned to look at her but his eyes seemed unfocused, lids barely open.

“Hm. Mom? Wha-” He trailed off, looking past Maddie towards the debris behind her.

“Just as I thought. Concussed.” She muttered. She was choosing to overlook the fact that the ghost had called her “Mom” again. Initially, it had bothered her, enraged her even, when she had a lesser opinion of the specter. Now though, with their shaky, but so far long-lasting, truce, she and Jack had begun to see the ghost kid as just that; a ghost kid. She took note of his round face and too-long limbs. He couldn't be over sixteen. The thought of someone that young dying in a way that created ghost as powerful as Phantom shook Maddie to her core. She knew Jack felt it too. And so if Phantom called either of them “Mom” or “Dad,” the couple silently agreed to ignore the ghost’s slip up.

“Wait, where am I?” Phantom looked up at her, eyes unfocused, but still the distinct toxic and inhuman green that matched the trail of ectoplasm leaking from a gash near his hairline.

Maddie sighed softly before crouching down next to him and answering. “You’re downtown. Amity Park. There was a ghost fight.”

With this, his eyebrows drew closer together. “Ghost fight?” He seemed to realize he was injured then, as he brought a gloved hand up to his head. His hazy eyes widened in fear.

“Wha- green? What happened to me?” Panic coated his voice.

Could he have really hit his head that hard? Maddie wondered.

Phantom seemed to be in a crisis. He sat up fully on the side of the road, now staring down at his own body. He held his own gloved hands in front of his face, turning them over and even taking off one of the gloves to inspect the skin underneath. Maddie was surprised to see the gloves could actually come off. By looking down, he caught a glimpse of his own white bangs, and this, too, seemed to shock him. He grasped at his own hair and tugged a strand forward so that it was in front of his eyes.

Watching him made Maddie realize something: She really did not want to be the one to tell Phantom he died. Who knew how he would react to the news? In this state, with their weeks of cooperation seemingly forgotten from his mind, it was entirely possible that the ghost would become violent.

And yet, assessing him now, he looked like he’d sooner burst into tears.

“Please, Mom, what happened to me? Why can't I remember anything?”

“Well, I’m not your mom. I’m Dr. Fenton, and you’re Phantom. You hit your head pretty hard during this fight. I was afraid you wouldn't wake up for a second there” Maddie tried to chuckle but it sounded hollow.

She knew how strange it was for her of all people to be concerned about Phantom’s wellbeing. But ever since she started working with him, she began to notice small details about the specter that set him apart from others she’d seen up close. She watched as his chest continually rose and fell, how his eyes reacted to bright light, and once, she even saw him sneeze. These minute details made her wonder exactly where the line between mimicry and sincerity was. She had hoped her cooperation with him would lead the ghost to trust her enough to let her ask.

Though currently, Phantom was in no state to answer any of her questions. He looked worse than she’d ever seen him; utterly crushed by the news of his own death. She wondered what memories he did retain, and how long this apparent amnesia would last.

Maddie hoisted herself back onto her feet and held out a hand to Phantom. He took it but struggled to stand, resulting in Maddie almost carrying the boy back to the GAV. He had the sense to ask, “Where are you taking me?”

“Back to FentonWorks. I’ll try to get you patched up best I can, but it will probably be better for you to heal back in the Zone.”

“The Zone?”

“The Ghost Zone, yes, it’s where you live.” She informed him.

Phantom’s face showed his confusion again, but he did not say anything more. Maddie figured being back in the Zone with its abundance of ectoplasm would accelerate the ghost’s healing.

“I don't live with you?” He asked.

“No, Phantom, you don't,” Maddie chuckled at the thought. She imagined the ghost sitting down at the kitchen table for dinner with her family. She pictured him sitting on her couch watching TV with her kids. Ha, what a sight that’d be.

Maddie didn't realize Phantom’s change in mood until she saw his face as she helped him get buckled in the passenger seat of the GAV. She was surprised to see him blinking back tears.

“I don't understand. What happened? Why can't I stay with you guys? How did I die?”

Maddie bit down on her lower lip and looked into Phantom’s eyes. He still didn't look like he was all there, with the spacy, unfocused look in his eyes and green staining his face. What was there, though, was genuine hurt, a display of emotion Maddie didn't think possible for ghosts.

“I’m sorry but you can't stay here. You don't belong in this world. I know you have been helping people here, but ghosts are supposed to stay in the Zone.” She sighed and looked down at her hands. She couldn't bring herself to keep looking at him. “And we don’t know how you died. You never told us.”

Phantom didn't say anything more. His far away eyes looked through the windshield of the GAV but he saw nothing as the two rode in silence.

[the-last-kenobi]

I know I have already requested a fic based on one of the dialogue prompts, so you don't have to answer to this ask if you don't want to. It's just that I would love another angsty story with Qui-Gon and padawan Obi (the way you portray their father-son relationship just melts my heart and breaks it simultaneously). I don't have a preference for any specific dialogue to be included. You as the writer can choose anything from the prompt list. Whatever you think would suit your story best. Thanks again!

Thank you!! <3 Always happy to get requests from you! Oh, author’s choice. Now I gotta make a decision... hm.

I decided to go with prompt #1!

From this various prompts list.

Requests are currently closed.

-

From the very first moment, Qui-Gon had looked at him and seen Xanatos instead.

From the dueling mats in the Temple, to the rundown transport ship, to the wastes of Bandomeer, Obi-Wan had never really been Obi-Wan to him — just another phantom of his former, cherished apprentice, another reminder of his failings as a teacher.

Obi-Wan knew there had been times when it had been different.

In the mines — his small, trembling fingers sore from slave work pressed against the collar fitted around his throat, his breaths coming shallow but steady as he prepared to press it, to erupt, to shatter himself into billions of fragments just to open a door for Qui-Gon Jinn — there, then, it had been different.

Qui-Gon had seen him, and apologized to him, and praised him.

Offered to be his Master.

Yes, of course, yes.

But despite their bond being sealed and the training begun, after that it felt like two steps forward, five steps back, one step forward, standstill.

Qui-Gon could not seem to comprehend that Obi-Wan was not Xanatos.

He was surprised in his habits, that he hated waking early but enjoyed it once he was up. That he ate light, small meals often throughout the day instead of three large ones, and wouldn’t touch a heaping plateful no matter how hungry he was. That he was tidy in his clothing and writing but usually forgot to make his bed until the end of the day, when he wanted to climb into smooth, tidy sheets instead of a mess.

And he seemed ready, at all times, for Obi-Wan to do something… evil.

Not just wrong, or reckless, or crazy.

But as if he expected his thirteen-year-old Padawan to dramatically drop a facade of innocence like a masked villain dropping his disguise, and prove to the Order that he was capable of incredible harm.

It was worse after Telos.

One might have thought Qui-Gon expected Obi-Wan to announce himself Xanatos’ heir after the older man had flung himself into a pit of acid rather than face justice.

If Xanatos had lurked between them before, he positively pushed them apart after his death.

And then…

And then Tahl died.

And it was Obi-Wan’s fault, his stupid broken bone and his stupid inability to take care of himself or be left alone in a war zone, and she was dead. There would be no more hastily made dinners shared with laughter and teasing and her telling stories from her childhood with Qui-Gon while Qui-Gon cringed and shook his head and looked at her as if she were his favorite star, and no more basking in the light she seemed to share.

And when Qui-Gon looked at Obi-Wan, sometimes it was clear that he could only see the love he had lost, and her lying dead before him.

And wishing it had been Obi-Wan who had died instead.

Obi-Wan could never decide which was worse.

When his Master looked at him and saw Xanatos instead, missing Obi-Wan entirely and both loving and loathing the face he saw instead —

— or when he looked at him and saw him, saw Tahl and the role Obi-Wan had played in her death, and wished to the gods that Obi-Wan had simply never been.

To not be seen at all?

Or to be seen and to be despised?

You look right at me, Obi-Wan wanted to say. You look at me but you’re always seeing someone else.

But Obi-Wan loved his Master. Loved him like a son loves a father, like a good student loves a great teacher, and he could not stop loving him and wanting to be loved in return.

He could not even bring himself to try stopping.

And Qui-Gon, it seemed, could not bring himself to see Obi-Wan differently than he did. Maybe there was simply nothing more to see.

After awhile, Obi-Wan stopped hoping, and simply pushed himself to keep going, regardless of what he received in return. It was enough to be his Master’s Padawan, to have those rare moments of perfect harmony.

He stopped checking to see if his Master was pleased with him. Stopped looking for signs.

Qui-Gon Jinn would never need him, but he needed his teacher, and so he would not complain.

And this state of being went on for years.

And years.

The first thing Obi-Wan registered was the sound of beeping. The whirring of machinery, the quiet hum of droids working nearby.

There was something foreign, uncomfortable and plastic, in his nose and his mouth.

His whole body ached, but at the same time he was so comfortable and so very very tired that it felt as if the bed he was lying on had half swallowed him. He couldn’t so much as lift a finger if he tried.

That’s odd, he thought hazily. I’ve never had a bed try to eat me before.

And that is when he heard it.

Qui-Gon, muffled by a closed door or even two, his voice raised as Obi-Wan had never heard it.

“—you insisted on speaking to me about this right here and now, then the burden is on you! I won’t lower my voice just to appease you, Mace!”

That’s not good, Obi-Wan thought sluggishly. Master is going to get himself in deeper trouble with the Council again, and I can’t help him if a bed eats me.

A pause, and then Qui-Gon shouted, “I don’t give a damn!”

Obi-Wan smiled inwardly. You never do, you rule-flouter.

Another voice rose sharply through the haze, but Obi-Wan could not make it out. Qui-Gon spoke again, anger bleeding into borderline rage. “Look where your priorities got us! I warned you, I told you not to send him in there alone, and did you listen?” The voices drew much nearer as Qui-Gon continued to yell, and he was getting nearer, too.

Obi-Wan frowned. That sounded bad. Who was it that Qui-Gon did not trust to go alone, and what had they done wrong?

“You sent him when I was away and couldn’t do anything to prevent you! You went behind my back! Obi-Wan could have died!” Qui-Gon roared, very close by.

A strange stillness fell, a quiet, like the sudden disorientation after turning off music or a bright screen and blinking in the darkness.

Me.

“He could still die,” said Qui-Gon, much softer, and his voice broke. “My Padawan could die in that bed and you want to talk to me about mission parameters now?”

I went alone somewhere and he did not want me to go. I did something wrong.

“Qui-Gon,” sighed Mace Windu. “No. We just wanted to—”

“I know what you wanted,” snapped Qui-Gon. “I’m not leaving his side, and I’m not discussing anything not related to his health, do you understand?”

A familiar voice that Obi-Wan could not place a name to spoke up just then, mediating. “Peace. Your volume and aggravation are disturbing other patients. Master Jinn, go sit with your apprentice and be still.”

“Thank you, Healer Che,” Qui-Gon murmured.

A door opened. Very close by.

Footsteps approached Obi-Wan where he lay motionless, sunken into the bed and burning with dull physical pain and a much sharper pain called shame.

Qui-Gon sighed somewhere nearby.

And then, to Obi-Wan’s astonishment, he felt warm breath ghosting the top of his head and then a dry-lipped kiss was planted on his forehead, paternal and solemn, a benediction.

“Foolish boy,” Qui-Gon murmured, and the bed shifted as he sat on its edge, one arm coming to curl around Obi-Wan’s shoulders. “Rushing off on perilous solo missions as if I wouldn’t notice.”

Obi-Wan waited, a strange breathless hope inside him, like small child expecting a gift, a silly and wondrous feeling.

“Sometimes I think you don’t know that I love you,” Qui-Gon said. “Go easy on your old Master, Obi-Wan, he’s a very foolish man and you’re going to give me heart problems before my time.”

A sturdy, rough-fingered hand began rubbing absently up and down Obi-Wan’s shoulder.

“You are remarkable, Padawan mine. Don’t forget that.” Qui-Gon’s voice broke again.

With an almighty effort, Obi-Wan struggled within himself, searching for strength. When he found it, he seized upon it, and with all he had he reached out along his decade-old training bond, trying to connect with his Master.

A flash of surprise, recognition, relief, joy.

Qui-Gon actually let out a strangled sob; the arm around Obi-Wan’s shoulders tightened fiercely.

“You’re going to be all right,” he said aloud. “In fact, I expect you’re going to be incredible, one day, my Padawan.”

Obi-Wan could not muster the energy for a smile, but he tried; and perhaps Qui-Gon understood, because the last thing Obi-Wan felt before darkness pulled him back under to the impenetrable sleep of drug-induced relief was the warmth of laughter against the top of his brow, and another paternal kiss.

[spenciegoob]

A Short Film

A/N: hey hey hey... mid writing this I realized how much I jumped the gun and thought this was a good concept, but now that I’m thinking too hard about it, maybe it’s not. I also wrote too much of it to back down now, so hopefully someone out there enjoys this as much as I did in my head lol.

Summary: Spencer steps way out of his comfort zone to ask his film major girlfriend a question.

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Category: Fluff

Content Warnings: nothing really...  Spencer hardcore struggling with technology

Word Count: 3.5k

Masterlist

___

“Hey Garcia, do you think you could help with something?” Spencer asked, rubbing the back of his neck nervously and not looking up from the floor of her office.

“Of course, Boy Wonder? What can I do for you?” Garcia answered while excitedly turning her chair back to her wall of screens.

Spencer grabbed the extra chair in her office and mumbled, “Actually um,” causing Garcia to completely abandon her position and fully face the genius.

“Spencer, are you okay? Is something wrong?” Spencer couldn’t blame her for asking. He was sweating more than usual, his face was bright red and he hadn’t stop fiddling with his hands since he shut the door.

“Oh no, nothing’s wrong. I just, uh, I don’t really know how to ask this,” Spencer stumbled back. It was the truth after all. No life experience had prepared him for such a request, one that in the grand scheme of things was not a lot, but to Spencer.

To Spencer, it was everything.

“That’s okay. Take your time,” Penelope stated back, and coming from anyone else, Spencer would have believed it was sarcastic in nature. But he also knew that Penelope was one of the only people he could never find judgement or maliciousness from.

You were the other.

“So Y/N and I as you’re probably aware have been together for 2 years now, and you also know that she just got her degree in cinematography and design, which is really funny if you think about it because I know nothing about any of that, but she knows everything. You know, sometimes she’ll explain to me what she sees through her eyes and it’s nothing like what I’ve ever been able to. I’m rambling now but I want to do that,” Spencer spurted out, and once he was done, he took a breath so deep Penelope whole-heartedly believed if he spent one more second talking, he may pass out.

“Woah there, slow down. First of all, that’s adorable. I love Y/N so much. Second of all, how exactly am I supposed to help you see things that way? Shouldn’t she be more help?” Penelope questioned, now completely confused about Spencer’s intentions with this very early morning visit.

“She can’t exactly know. It’s kind of a surprise thing,” Spencer answered shyly. He hadn’t even gotten to the punchline and yet, he was contemplating every move.

Was this a good idea?

But when he saw the way Penelope lit up before she yelled, “Tell me everything, and spare no details. None!” He knew he would stop at nothing to make this perfect.

“So here’s what I was thinking.”

That was 1 year ago today, and since then, Spencer has tried to figure out what to say when he revealed his big project. He stood in front of the mirror every day for 365 days trying to find the perfect way to put it. Still when you sat on your shared couch gazing up at him in amusement, confusion and adoration all at once, his mouth was dry and his throat clamped up.

“Spence, you’re starting to scare me. Are you okay?” You asked, watching as your boyfriend stared at you like a deer caught in headlights with a laptop and assorted cords in his hands.

“Uh, yes! Yes I am okay. I just need to um, this needs to go. You know what? I wasn’t told how to do this part, can you help me?” Spencer paced back and forth between you and the TV four times while he was talking before he stopped defeated in front of you. He wouldn’t have asked for help unless he was certain Penelope was smart enough to insert a black screen in the beginning of what caused the laptop to burn a hole in his hand.

“Yes, of course,” you said, slightly chuckling at his confusion. Spencer Reid and technology, whilst tragic, was also very adorable. “What are you trying to do?”

“I need the video on the laptop to play on the TV,” he stated simply. At least he knew what he wanted. That was a new, first step in the right direction.

“Okay easy. Just hand me that cord, and,” you drew out the ‘and’ as you bent around the TV and plugged in the cord. “Perfect. Now just plug this end into the laptop and hit play.” You handed Spencer back his end of the cord, watching as he examined the object and the side of the computer to know where exactly to put it. It almost felt like watching a toddler try and find the rightly shaped hole for the triangle piece, and you’d be lying if you said it wasn’t endearing.

Before he could break anything, you stepped in. “I know you’d be able to figure it out, but it’s that one.”

“Thank you,” he mumbled back sheepishly. 

“Okay so a little back story. A year ago today, I asked Penelope to teach me how to record videos on my new phone. Thank you for that by the way, the camera on it is really cool, and I’m not just saying that because it’s one of the only things I know how to work. Anyways, I started secretly recording videos of you, of us, anything that reminded me of you, and me talking about you. So I sent them over to Garcia and she pushed them all together, and I think what I’m trying to say is I made a short film? Home video? It doesn’t really matter, but I’m showing it to you now.” Spencer didn’t acknowledge the shocked look on your face as he settled next to you and put the laptop on the coffee table.

But as you watched him find the video and set up, your jaw stayed slack. Spencer Reid, the world’s biggest technophobe, figured out how to use an iPhone camera just for you. While to others it may not seem like a lot, to you. 

To you, it was everything.

“Spence, I don’t even know what to say. This is the sweetest thing anyone’s ever done for me.” It didn’t feel like enough. The amount of awe, and love that filled your chest was so comforting, so warm.

It felt like home. It felt like Spencer.

“You don’t have to say anything, just watch,” he stated before hitting the spacebar, something he’s seen you do plenty of times.

The video started out with Spencer crouching down slightly to where the phone was set up against a bookcase in front of the couch.

“Is it recording?” He whispered, and when he realized it was, he took a step back and gave a thumbs up before rushing to sit on the couch. You couldn’t help but let a full smile stretch across your face, an involuntary act when it came to Spencer.

“Hey, love bug. It’s Spencer, but wait you knew that because you can see me.” There was a small pause as Spencer squinted to see if you could actually see him from his position on the couch. When he realized he was in frame, he continued. “This is totally weird that I’m technically talking to myself right now, but I hope future me gave you an explanation. I tried to wait for a good time to start recording this, and in the two weeks I’ve known how to work that thing,” Spencer said as he pointed to the camera. “We’ve been on a case. I came home tonight, and you’re sleeping right now, but if I stay quiet enough I can say what I need to.”

You looked over at Spencer as he was twiddling with his fingers. Something he only did when he was nervous. You reached over and grabbed one of his hands, giving it a reassuring squeeze, but when you tried to pull away so as to not truly disturb his fidgeting, he caught it. So, you intertwined your fingers together, and continued to watch past Spencer.

“I came home today, and all I wanted to do was hold you. Granted, that’s every day, but today was just, it was really hard. When I came home you were asleep on the couch. One time you told me you didn't like to sleep in our bed while I was away, something about it being too big. At first, I was mad because your poor back, but today I changed my mind because the amount of steps to get to you was much less.”

Spencer unlocked the door to the apartment, resting his head against the wood as he inserted the key into the lock. The most recent case had ended with the death of both the latest victim and the unsub, and he couldn’t bear another second of remembering the scene play out in front of him.

All he wanted to do was lay in her arms, but when he opened the door, the apartment was completely silent.

And then he saw a little fuzzy sock clad foot sticking out from underneath the huge, fluffy blanket on the couch. Slowly, he walked towards you, finding you fast asleep with a t-shirt of his tightly snuggled up to your neck and face.

Spencer got down on a knee in front of you, and brushed the hair that had fallen over your eyes. Slowly, they fluttered open at his feather touch, only to widen with realization.

“You’re home!” You squealed, throwing your hands around his neck. Immediately, he reciprocated the hug, tighter than usual. Spencer tucked his head into your neck and inhaled the scent of your shampoo, a grounding technique he would never tell you he developed. The hands he delicately placed at first across the expanse of your back grew heavier, drawing your body closer to his. 

You pulled your head back, him following your movements, and stared deeply into his eyes for a second. The moment you two locked eyes, he knew the jig was up. Spencer knew you could see right through him, and he knew that even if you weren’t there to witness what he had, you saw it replaying over and over in his eyes.

“You must be tired, let’s get you to bed.” Your words shocked him at first. Usually, the people in his life would ask insistent questions on his mental well-being, and while they were greatly appreciated, Spencer was never one to open up when asked to.

You, however, didn’t meddle, you didn’t push. You simply gave him a place to feel safe as you two settled under the duvet together, never letting go of one another even for a second. You held the back of his head, slowly brushing your fingers through his curls as he laid against your chest. Your fingers were medicinal to him, softly taking away the pain and violence of the day, and replacing it with security, comfort, love.

“No one’s ever been that excited to see me before, let alone knew how to take care of me the way you did. I just,” Spencer trailed off and looked towards our bedroom, where you stirred in your sleep looking for him. “You’re about to wake up and wonder where I went. Now you know what I was doing in “the bathroom” for 30 minutes actually meant. Alright, see you next video, love bug.”

The screen cut to Spencer obviously holding the phone close to his chest, the only thing in frame the space where his shoulder and neck met. The soft chords of the start of Vienna by Billy Joel can be heard from outside the room he was in. 

“Okay, I’m gonna have to sneak up on you. I’m sorry in advance.” 

Spencer finally addressed the camera. As the Spencer on the TV quietly left his position in what you could only assume was your bedroom, you looked over at your very real Spencer softly smiling at the TV.

When he caught your stare, he said “Watch, this is my favorite part.” Turning back to the TV, you watched as Spencer carefully tiptoed to the living room, placing the camera to lean against the vase in the middle of the dinner table to face the kitchen.

In the kitchen, you watched yourself very poorly sing along with Billy Joel using a whisk that you just got done washing as a microphone. The blush that crept up your neck and to your cheeks with embarrassment still felt the same as it did that day.

You hadn’t heard Spencer sneak up on you, not until he was right behind you and let out a soft chuckle at a note you missed. Spencer had never seen someone jump out of their skin as much as you did when he made his presence known. 

“Jesus Spencer, you scared me!” You yelled before a smile crept up your face. You couldn’t help it, even in the most embarrassing times, not when Spencer looked at you like that.

“Sorry, love bug. Although, I didn’t mean for you to stop the show.” At that you hit his chest with the whisk/microphone, both of you laughing fully now. “Come here.”

Spencer took your hand, pulling you softly to his chest where you laid your head to his heart. Wrapping his hand around your waist, the two of you started to slowly sway to the music. You both were incredibly offbeat to Vienna, but listening to Spencer’s heart, you realized that the tempo you were dancing at matched up. Unbeknownst to you, due to the adrenaline of being scared, Spencer could feel your heartbeat on his abdomen, and was swaying to that.

You didn’t know how long you stayed like that, dancing to the in sync beat of each other’s hearts.

The clip of you dancing however only lasted 10 more seconds as the next scene of Spencer bundled up for the fall played. You had met Spencer during the fall, and fell in love with the way the red, yellow and orange leaves contrasted against his honey eyes. This clip was no different.

“Hey, love bug. I’m on my way to deliver this coffee to you in between classes, but I had to stop so I can show you my new friends I’ve made along the way.”

The camera panned down to 4 little ducklings surrounding Spencer’s converse, most of them just waddling around, but one was insistently pecking at the rubber toe of his left shoe. Spencer pointed at the little deviant and said ‘that’s you’ before bringing the camera back up to his face.

“I may have made the mistake of feeding them the fruit I was bringing you, which reminds me I should probably go get you more. I don’t think you’ll be mad though. How could you? Look how cute they are! I kind of want to take them home, but I definitely know that’ll make you mad. Anyways, I just wanted to show off that you’re not always the animal person in this relationship. See you soon, love bug.”

“Oh my god, Spencer. That was the cutest thing I’ve ever seen, but to confirm your thoughts, yes, I would’ve been mad,” you stated, the giddy smile never leaving your face, and giggles spreading themselves through your words.

“I know, I know. They belong in the wild,” he said back, holding up his free hand in faux defeat.

A new scene presented itself to you, this one being Spencer setting up the camera on the bathroom sink while brushing his teeth. You knew you were approaching by the music slowly getting louder.

You entered you and Spencer’s shared bathroom, Don’t Go Breaking My Heart by Elton John playing out of your phone. He was brushing his teeth, and you followed suit, not stopping the small dancing as you did.

You looked at Spencer, and started moving side to side, your free hand grabbing the crook of his elbow to join you. Looking in the mirror expectedly, you watched Spencer look up at the ceiling before joining you, a smile on his face.

Slowly, the two of you fell into a rhythm to the beat of Elton John, making funny faces to each other in the mirror as you did so.

You reached out fully to lean your head on Spencer’s shoulder as you watched.

The scene on the TV shifted once again to show a very flustered you standing in front of the TV with Citizen Kane paused. Your hair was in a messy bun, and you were sporting one of Spencer’s old Caltech t-shirts, and fuzzy black pants with little pumpkins printed everywhere.

Spencer was also wearing the same fuzzy pants.

“Spence, I’m gonna sound crazy here,” you sprinting off the couch after pausing the film you were currently trying to study for your film analysis class. 

“You’re not off to a great start here,” Spencer laughed out. Spencer once told you that no matter what he thought about a book or film, he wanted to listen to you ramble about it for hours. The first thing he fell in love with about you was the way you challenged his thinking, expanding his mind to the possibilities of learning about the difference between production design and cinematography. You taught him something that no class, book or person could ever.

Your mouth dropped open, an over exaggerated gasp leaving your lips, your hand meeting your chest softly. 

“Meanie.” Spencer and you chuckled at the antics, and when the laughs died down, you continued. “Here me out, though.”

And from there, you went into a deep dive about the unreliable narrator, and how it affects camera placement in the scene you two just watched. 

“Oh my god. I talk that fast?” You asked Spencer, who just let a breathy laugh out at your realization.

“Don’t worry, I think it’s adorable,” he whispered the last part, the smile on his face turning from one of hilarity to one full of love.

30 seconds into your rant, you realize the phone he was attempting to hide close to his lap. Your eyes flicked between the camera that was pointed at you, and Spencer, who’s face filled with confusion as to why you stopped talking.

“Are you recording me?” You asked, a smile never leaving your face. Oh no, he’d been caught. Spencer has to think of a believable excuse, and quick.

“Uh, yeah, sorry, I just uh... I figured instead of you trying to write it down later, you’d want all your notes now.” Perfect!

“Damn, that was good,” you said, nodding softly at his swiftness. You couldn’t be mad he lied, how could you when the truth was this beautiful?

“I know, right? I came up with it on the spot,” Spencer joked with you. As if TV Spencer knew he was interrupting a moment, a throat clearing came from the video. The Spencer you saw was from 3 days ago, and was sitting in his car in what looked to be the Quantico parking garage.

“Hi, love bug. I’m days away from showing you this, and I still don’t know what to say. I hope the me you’re with now has figured it out. So, uh, yeah. That’s it. Uh, take it away, future Spencer. Actually, you’d be present Spenc-” The video cut off, courtesy of Penelope Garcia.

“Y/N,” Spencer started, turning to face a very emotional you fully. “I still haven’t found the right words. None of them could express my love for you, and perfect doesn’t come close to describing you. I know you have a thing for supporting evidence, and I think I just provided a lot to prove that the best thing to ever happen in my life is you.” You let out a small giggle, the tears welling in your eyes breaking free. “Oh no, if you cry, then I’m going to.”

You let out a full laugh now as Spencer wiped the tears falling down your cheeks before continuing.

“Before you, I was reckless. I didn’t care what happened as long as I did something to help. Now, I have a reason to be careful, a reason to care. I can’t do that to you, and if I’m going to spend the rest of my life with you, I need to live.”

You inhaled softly as Spencer reached into the pocket of his pants, taking your hand in his.

“Which brings me to my question,” he said with a small smile and cocked his head. Slowly, he dropped down to one knee in front of you.

“Y/N Y/L/N, will you marry me?” Spencer opened the velvet box to reveal a simple silver band with a square cut diamond delicately placed on top.

“Spencer Reid, yes. I will marry you.”

With shaky fingers, he slid the ring on your fingers, the fit perfect. You couldn’t wait any longer, and grabbed his face in your hands to pull his lips to yours. Your lips molded together in perfect harmony, lulling you deeper into Spencer’s embrace. 

“I love you,” you whispered against his lips.

“I love you, too,” Spencer answered, only pulling back far enough to mumble before kissing you again.

Note to self: thank Penelope Garcia.

____

Join a taglist here Tell me your thoughts on this fic here Have a request? Send it in here

Taglist: @the-girl-who-writes-fanfiction @haylaansmi @masumiyetimziyanoldu @cielo1984 @rexorangecouny @username2002 @calm-and-doctor @pieceofried @mermaidshmari @missyoumaybank @everythingbutnormal @seasonfivereid @no-honey-no @muffin-cup