i feel like this is what a panic attack looks like

Nikolas Cruz

When I was gone from Tumblr tbh I didnt look for any information about Nik . I dont know how long I wasnt active but a lot of things happened and I want to explain why I left and what’s my opinion on Nik now . So if you’re not interested in reading this just go away . The main reason why I left was because i started to feel guilty . People were making me feel like its my fault . Like I was responsible for what Nik did . I didn’t really care about what others say until then . I was getting better with my depression for some time and I stopped having panic attacks but then I got all that hate and somehow I felt even worse than before . It all got to me and I was taking things very personally even tho I didn’t show it . Actually I started to believe that it was my fault that I should have done something but I didn’t know him and I couldn’t stop him . I couldn’t help him in any way . I promise that If I knew him before I would have done anything to help him . We all would I would be there for him . I know that . So please understand that there was nothing I could do because I didn’t know him and it’s not my fault . The thing I said before that I can’t help him now I mean I can try and do my best but it’s not possible now . Just tell me what to do because I’m hopeless . About those anons who said that I don’t care about him . I do . I care about him so much not only about him but about the victims too . I didn’t forget about them too . Okay I have to admit that what Nik did was cruel and there were other ways to deal with his problems but how could he do that alone ? He was cutting himself no one did anything. He told things about killing people or himself no one cared or maybe they said that he did it for attention because that’s what they always do . No one cuts themselves for attention . They are saying that they want to help people with mental health problems but all they do is push them away or call them attention seekers . That picture of Nik where he is holding a gun to his head he looks hopeless and don’t tell me otherwise . Zach knew about it . I’m not saying that it’s his fault for not doing anything but why did he even said those things about Nik to media ? Why did he showed that picture ? I have to say I’m happy he did it because you know new Nik pics but I wish he didn’t do that just because of How Nik has to feel now . The next thing is that when Zach was talking to him after he got arrested he said that his demons got to him or something like that . He even mentioned it before. He wasn’t aware of how many people he killed because I think he didn’t even know what was he doing at that moment . He Said multiple times how he feels alone how he doesn’t have any friends or that he can’t trust people because they think that something’s wrong with him . I can’t even imagine how he had to feel . He had his life fucked up in every way you can think of . His life was not sad . It was purely tragic . And this is an example what loneliness does to people … I feel sorry for him because that’s just how I’m and with every new article about him I feel sorry even more . Hate me if you want . I don’t care now for real .

And the second most important thing why I left was because of health problems. I stopped eating again and I couldn’t sleep . I had nightmares about Nik almost every night . I just needed break from him . I don’t know why but it was hard for me to see his face .

Thanks for reading until the end❤

Doctors, students, and an angry patient.

This happened several years ago, but it still makes me smile.

Many hospitals here in the US have students that follow the doctors like puppies, taking notes, ignoring the well-being of the patients, and intruding on privacy.  It’s humiliating to us patients. 

I had an appointment for a pap smear and was already in my hospital gown just waiting on the doctor.  When I had arrived I was informed that my regular doctor wasn’t there due to being ill, and I was asked if I’d be okay with a male doctor to do the examination.  I had just ridden the bus for half an hour to get there (no car at the time), and the next bus that would take me home wasn’t due to arrive for at least an hour.  I told the receptionist that so long as a female nurse was in there with me I would be okay, if only just barely.

So I’m sitting on the examination table (they don’t qualify for being called a bed, trust me on this) in my hospital gown, waiting for the doctor.  The nurse is in there with me, frequently checking her watch, and when I voice how annoyed I am she says she was expecting this because he’s an a**hole.  Great.  Wonderful.  My day is just going grand now.

He arrives, opens the door WIDE, and brings in at least half a dozen medical students.  Didn’t ask me for permission regarding having an audience.  The nurse has this horrified look on her face and asks me if I’m okay with having them in there.  F*** no.  I tell the doctor in no uncertain terms that there will be no examination if the students are in there.  Instead of talking to me he looks at the students and tell them “sometimes we have difficult and uncooperative patients”.  All of them look equally uncomfortable now, none of them dare make eye-contact.

I’m near tears.  I have PTSD and this situation is bringing on a panic attack.  I can feel the nurse holding my hand, trying to be reassuring, but it isn’t working because I’m shaking all over.

When I’m especially anxious I curl my toes hard and tight.  This causes all ten of them to pop.  Guess what I do.  Yup, they pop, and due to my high level of anxiety it’s especially loud.  Sounds like a bunch of dry sticks breaking.  The doctor turns an odd shade green, pushes all the students out of the way as he bolts out the door.  All the students leave, but one woman stays behind just long enough to give me nod of respect and a thumbs up.

After they leave the nurse informs me that the sound of popping joints makes that particular doctor vomit.  A lot.  She leaves the room for a minute and returns with a warm a blanket, a clipboard with some paperwork, and a pen.  It’s for filing a formal complaint.  I’m unable to hold the pen because I’m shaking so badly, so she helps me fill it out. 

There was no way I could get an examination now.  I’m in no condition for handling this.  They reschedule with a note stating that it must be my regular doctor, and to call me if there are any changes.  I arrive two weeks later, the nurse is there and she has this shit-eating grin on her face as she brings me to my room.  My regular doctor arrives and has that same smile.  Both inform me that my complaint got that ***hole suspended pending investigation.  I was complaint number nine from just that one day.  Neither one could tell me how many complaints had been filed against him, but they made it clear he will likely be fired.

Oh, and there were no students in the room because my doctor ASKED me before opening the door wide enough to even walk in. 

I never found out if he got fired or not, but I sure hope he did.

Submitted by: Chaosfay’s Bit of Madness

I Don’t Believe We’ve Met (Part 1/?) (Loki x reader)

Request: Could you do a Loki x reader where he comes to earth with Thor post-Ragnarok and falls in love with the newest avenger (the reader)? Love your work ❤❤❤

“Do you really think it’s a good idea to go back to Earth?”

“Yes, of course,” Thor nodded, “the people of Earth love me, I’m very popular.”

“Let me rephrase that,” Loki clarified, “do you really think it’s a good idea to bring me back to Earth?”

“Probably not, to be honest.  But I wouldn’t worry, brother,” Thor sighed with a slight grin, “I feel like everything is gonna work out fine.”

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anonymous asked:

I wish you would write an outsider POV Sterek, maybe from their neighbor's POV?

This is embarrassing.

Holy, fuckmuffins, this is embarrassing. She should not do this. She should turn around and go back home. She should just be at home. Forever. She can order groceries from Amazon and socialize with people over the internet and she thinks she could be very happy to just live at home. It would be fun. 

Also, she would be alive. Because she is not sure she will be after all is said and done. 

She gets to their door and then seriously considers just turning around. It would make her a fundamentally bad person but she could be okay with that. 

Ugh.

No she can’t.

She takes a deep breath, wishes that Jenny wasn’t at her father’s this weekend because maybe a cute little four year old would help, and then knocks anyway. On her next door neighbor’s door. 

It had to be her next dooor neighbor. Someone who she will probably have to see again. 

And, of course, Murder Man opens it. He is already glaring at her.

He is going to kill her

“Hello?” he asks and she realizes she has just been standing there. Staring. Which, like fair, he is gorgeous but mostly she’s staring because it is just now occurring to her that she should have told someone where she is going before just coming over to share this bad news. 

“H-hi,” she says finally. “My name is Tammy and I live in number 406–right next door actually and I-I’m so sorry but I’ve just… I’ve just scratched your car.”

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Don’t Care if it Hurts Pt.5

Dog hybrid! + Gaurd dog!Jimin x Reader) (ft.olderBrother! + Mafia boss!Namjoon)

Part 1  Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6

Summary: After a rival gang makes an attempt on your life, Your older brother, the infamous leader of Seoul’s largest gang; Kim Namjoon gets you a guard hybrid; Park Jimin, The reigning champion of Seoul’s underground hybrid fighting ring.

Tags: Jimin x reader, hybrid Jimin, mafia au!  fluff, hurt/comfort, slow burn, angst, torture, mentions of rape/noncon, violence, blood, mild cursing, 

Word count: 8.1 k

Authors note: YO EVERYONE LOOK WHAT I GOT OUT. So I’m gonna have a small hiatus while I travel to Thailand with my family for the next two weeks. I was gonna write another chapter and schedule to release it while I was away but I got too sick the last few weeks and unfortunately this LONG ASS monster of a part is all you’re gonna get for now (i thought about splitting it up between parts but I didn’t like it’s flow). 

Hope you like it! This chapter has some pretty heavy stuff in it. sorry to leave you all on a cliffhanger but ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Originally posted by amsimaria

All Jimin could feel where greasy hands on him, they bit into his arm and held him down as he struggled fruitlessly to get free. Somehow he was never able to submit in this way. He was obedient as long as they left their hands off of him and not a moment longer. He had been like this ever since he was a pup.  

There is a low voice- spitting in his ear as he tries to get away from a belt, from the ball, from all the things they used to beat him.  These strikes would leave bruises that would almost always last all week. He wines when one hits his ribs and leaves him breathless. A hard hand pulls his hair back roughly and yanks on his sensitive ears. 

“Oh is the little puppy hurt? Can he not take a beating? Did little Jimin forget what it felt like?” he lets out a growl that only sounds half as threatening as he wants it too and they continue beating him. 

“Jimin,” one of them says a fist hits his shoulder. 

“Jimin.” This voice is more panicked; 

“Jimin” the voice says- more human and female then the last time the shadow above him shouted it. 

The dream knocks Jimin practically sideways when he finds you above him your hands on his shoulders he reacts instinctively pinning you down onto the bed using his knees to hook around your legs and pin you to the bed with his hands at your wrist.  Adrenaline makes his heart thud as he struggles to separate dream from reality “it’s ok it was just a dream.” You say soothingly as he looks down at you like you’re the monster. His breath comes out of him in big gusts.  

“Jimin it’s me.” You say a little more firmly trying to get that look to leave his eyes. He doesn’t look like himself; his pupils are dilated and it’s obvious to you that he is currently having a panic attack. His weight is pressing painfully onto your wrists and your legs are going numb with how he’s lying on top of you- the same way he might hold someone down if he was fighting them. 

You can’t help it; you know he would never hurt you, but your heart rate picks up when you realize how immobile he has you, you couldn’t get away from him even if you wanted to right now. He catches the smell of fear on you and his eyes instantly change. He lets go of your body like you burn him and he’s standing faster then you could breathe. His back hits the other side of your room. 

“Y/n.” he gasps out. Holding his hands out in front of him- like he’s trying to show you and himself that he’s not a threat too you.  “I’m sorry, oh my god i-“ he stutters out. You get up too- flicking the light on. 

“It’s ok Jimin- everything’s going to be fine, you just had a nightmare” his eyes keep scanning the room over again for potential threats. Eventually- with enough cajoling- he gets back on the bed. “can you tell me what it was?”

“I was back at the kennels, they-” his voice breaks off. You want to reach out to him- but you remember how sensitive he was to touches at the very beginning of you meeting him so you keep your hands to yourself. You’re still feeling groggy yourself- all you know is that one moment you were fast asleep and the next moment you were waking up to Jimin thrashing next to you. 

Next, to you, Jimin doesn’t know how to articulate the dream into words. “They always knew how to hurt you the most without leaving so much damage.” You inhale deeply at that. Jimin is wringing his fingers when you reach forward and try to take them in yours. He flinches back from you.  “Your wrists-“ is all he says, flicking to the red skin there where he leaned his weight- it must hurt. he caused you harm. But you just shake your head and take his hands in yours. 

“every day I don’t understand how you can still touch me when you know what I am- you still want me even after I’ve just hurt you.” 

“What are you talking about?” 

“I’ve hurt people. I’m dangerous. I hurt you.”  He reaches out a finger to trace along the red stretch of your wrist. You ignore the involuntary shiver it gives you. Your smile is small- almost wry when you look up at him. “And still you don’t run away.”

“Maybe it’s because I don’t think these hands could ever hurt me- not intentionally anyway.” you affirm as You turn his hands over and over in your hands- noticing the little scars here and there. The ones on his knuckles that have mostly healed. There’s one that crosses his palm and the back of his hand like he got it shut in something long ago. It feels like you’re the only two people awake in the universe when you reach up and press his palm against your cheek. 

“I love your hands” you want to say, and he gulps- and you realize you’ve said it out loud, the blush covers you from you collarbones up. Your faces are closer then they ever really should be if your relationship was purely platonic. 

Jimin is watching you with an aching in his heart- because no ones ever looked at him like that- let alone viewed him as something other than a weapon. You look at him like he’s a marvel, a treasure to be taken care of and appreciated- not like he’s a monster, a hybrid only meant to protect you from physical harm. You’re his friend- his first true friend. And it breaks his heart- because he wants you to be so so much more than that and he knows that he’s the least deserving person in the entire city when it comes to being on the receiving end of such a tender look. 

 you run your fingers through his hair as he does his best to show you that he never intends to hurt you with his body again, by sheltering you and holding you with a close tenderness. You swear in another life he was meant to be a lap dog. You silently hope that your wrists won’t bruise as Jimin wraps his arms around your middle, for his sake and for yours. Bruises wouldn’t be hard to hide from Namjoon and they don’t bother you, but Jimin would look at them and see everything he’s ever done wrong. 

Eventually, his breath has stopped coming in small gasps and reluctantly- sleep pulls the two of you down.

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youtube

Comic dub of an Overwatch fancomic by @artbytesslyn - featuring the voices of @totalspiffage as Widowmaker, @hnilmik as Sombra, and myself as Reaper!

Woof. This comic dub was QUITE the undertaking. STORY TIME: a few months back, I approached Tesslyn to see if she’d be interested in letting me turn her Patreon-only comic series “Ghost” into a comic dub. We decided that the best time to release said dub would be after she had done enough pages to put together a single comic on Gumroad, and I could drive some sales towards that. Perfect!

Cut to a month ago, Tesslyn shared her finished comic with me and my first impression was “oh no I  may have bit off more than I can chew what have I done”. Let me break down some of my fears going into mixing this, and how they got overcome. Or maybe the fears remained and I just got super lucky and this comic dub got done anyway. One of those!

First of all, atmosphere. While I’d done atmospheric comic dubs before, I’d never done one THIS long and where many sustained moments were held over several panels with no dialogue or very minimal dialogue. This meant a lot of thinking about “how long do I hold on this panel? how long would be too long or too short?”; I usually rely on dialogue beats for that (eg panel is revealed, dialogue starts, dialogue ends, panel changes, repeat) but now that I had something a little freeform it was time for a mild panic attack. In the end I went with my gut and “eyeballed” it (“eardrummed” it? no that’s terrible) and I think I managed to get this out all right! At least, I hope so.

Second of all, music. I was REALLY tempted to use the music I’d heard playing the visual novel “The House in Fata Morgana” and was weighing up the pros and cons of using music associated with another game and the possibility of having this video hit with a copyright claim. In the end I decided “what the heck, I’m really feeling that game’s soundtrack for this dub!” and went with it. At first, I was using the track “This Mutilated Body” by Yusuke Tsutsumi, which I thought was PERFECT (both in terms of the mood conveyed and the title); but I just couldn’t really make it flow with the comic dub as a whole piece, it went a little bit too hard and had way too much energy. Then I tried using “Everybody’s Crying” (also by Yusuke Tsutsumi) and that worked out much better; the piece flowed with the rise and ebb of emotions in the comic, and the title still works as well! In any case, there’s a second audio mix of “Ghost” with different background music on my computer and I dunno what to do with it.

Third of all, ACTING. For a comic centered around Widowmaker, I was not nearly expecting the amount of emotional heavy lifting Sombra had to do. And super lucky times for me: Kimlinh knocked it out of the hotdamn park. HOTDAMN ACTING. I actually got a little bit teary mixing the part where Sombra starts attacking Reaper; and completely put off the part where she realises that BOTH her friends are running out of time, because I felt like I couldn’t do the mix proper justice. Tamara was also super great as Widowmaker (and a surprise appearance from Amelie!) with both her usual cold demeanour, and a surprisingly gentle side coupled with the quiet, tired acceptance of her forthcoming expiration. And finally, I am also there. I smoulder with barely restrained rage. Is what Reaper does.

I’d talk sound effects, but at this point I think this has gone on long enough. Long story short: sound effects are both the blessing and the bane of my sound mixing existence. Finding the sound of a plasteel (presumably) mask hitting the ground? What kind of ground is it anyway: soft, hard, gravel? How loud should the simulated tinnitus be so its presence is felt without actually hurting the ears of the audience? What does the hum of a hologram sound like? I can’t find the sound of someone getting pummeled by angry hispanic fists, so it looks like I’m going to have to record myself hitting myself! Where can I sneak in the Wilhelm scream THIS time?

ANYWAY! If you enjoyed that, why not watch some of my other comic dubs?

Sundays

Originally posted by harryisart

I’ll admit, I teared up writing this. Thank you all for the support, this is a little bit different from my normal stuff. Let me know if you like it! Possibly a part two? All the love. xx - L

A week goes by of Harry acting different towards Y/N.

Warnings: Angst

Word Count: 2,399

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Sightless

AN: finally posting this to tumblr two days after putting on ao3 bc tumblr mobile Sucks. 

Chapter 2/ Chapter 3

word count: 1717

summary: Virgil is blind. It’s not a big deal though, right? But he hides it, because if the other sides knew they would push him away again. And besides, he’s pretty good at faking being sighted…And the other sides are also more observant than he realizes.

Chapter 1: Roman

Virgil couldn’t sleep.

Not that that was an uncommon occurrence, but that didn’t mean he had to like it. Contrary (or maybe not contrary) to popular opinion, Virgil did like to sleep. He just hated being too anxious to actually get any of it. There were times when he wasn’t even anxious over a particular thing, he just was.

And that was how it had been tonight- tossing and turning in his sheets, unable to get comfortable or come close to falling asleep no matter what Virgil did. Even though he knew, logically, that there wasn’t anything for him to be anxious about.

He sighed, then moved to get up out of bed. Maybe a snack or something would help him feel more tired. Virgil felt his watch. 3:46.

Was it really that late? Early? Maybe he’d just have coffee or something, unhealthiness be damned.

Virgil pushed himself off the bed and flawlessly navigated through the completely dark room. He had been thinking about that a lot, lately (well, worrying, for the most part because that was what he did). His blindness, that is.

He had never had any vision, or light perception, anything at all. Virgil didn’t remember a time when he hadn’t been this way. It was bothersome, at some times, but it wasn’t that big of a deal. He was used to it. Virgil honestly had no idea why he had been formed this way; he just knew that this was the way it was, and the less time he spent dwelling on it the less anxious it made him.

He was also slightly surprised he had managed to keep it from the others this long after they started spending more time with him, too; Virgil knew that he was decent at faking being sighted, but he hadn’t known he would be that good. He feared the day everything went to shit, because at this point it was only a matter of “when.”

The other sides had noticed things, sure, and had made comments in the past, but Virgil sometimes couldn’t believe his luck.

“You know, Virgil, I thought your room would have been quite a mess, but it is in fact rather tidy.”

“Keeping things organized sometimes helps me not be anxious, Logan,” Virgil said. He didn’t elaborate that it also helped him to know where everything actually was because he couldn’t see it.

“Ah. Of course.”

“Virgil, look at me. I know that you’re panicking right now, but I need you to focus on me. What are five things you can see?” Patton asked as Virgil was mid panic attack in the living room.

“Uh,” he tried to force sightlines and remember what things were where, which actually helped calm him down… “The painting. Clock. Curtains. The TV. You,” Virgil said last, finally being able to force his eyes to look directly in front of him, where Patton was sitting.

And Roman thought Virgil wasn’t a good actor. (To be fair, that was probably because being blind made him absolute shit at facial expressions, which was what sighted people looked for in acting.)

(Ha. Looked.)

Virgil hadn’t noticed, but autopilot had taken his body to the kitchen while his thoughts had been preoccupied. Not bothering with the light switch, since the other sides were likely to be asleep, Virgil decided he’d have hot chocolate and if that didn’t work to make him tired enough to sleep, he’d give up and switch to coffee. Of course, the universe never seemed to let things go his way.

After the hot chocolate didn’t help at all, Virgil got up from where he had been seated at the kitchen table and began quietly moving around the kitchen as he got things ready for making coffee. In all his bustling, he hadn’t realized someone had joined him until he heard the light switch flip and the barely audible- even to him, with his more sensitive hearing- hum of the lights themselves. “Virgil?” a voice, Roman’s, called. “You in here?”

“Yeah.”

“How…” The creative side sounded confused. “You didn’t have the lights on. How were you able to move around?”

Virgil tried to play it off without sounding too suspicious. “I can see pretty well in the dark.”

There was a pause, but eventually Roman responded doubtfully, “Okay. Sure. I guess that makes sense. Your room is fairly dark.” Virgil could practically hear the frown in Roman’s voice as he asked, “So why are you still up?”

“Couldn’t sleep. You?”

“Me?” Roman sounded affronted.

“Could ask the same of you, Princey.”

“Touché.“

Virgil only heard silence for a few beats. He pushed Roman a little further while stirring the creamer in his coffee. “So?”

“I, uh… I could not sleep either. I seem to have too many ideas running through my head.”

“Does that happen a lot?”

“More than you’d think,” the creative side admitted. “What are you having? Coffee?”

Virgil gave a silent nod before taking a sip. Ah. Sweet, sweet caffeine. Roman quietly hummed in what could have been disapproval, but also simply acknowledgement.

“Do you want to watch a movie?”

Virgil pursed his lips. Normally, he could get away with skipping out on movie nights, but lately the other sides had been more insistent on joining them for “bonding time,” which for Roman included Disney movies. Movies in general, of course, were problematic when he watched them with the others because he couldn’t put on the audio description (if there was any). Still, it wasn’t like there was a way Virgil could get out of it.

Roman sensed his hesitation. “We could watch Black Cauldron?” he asked tentatively. Virgil sighed.

“Fine,” he relented.  “You want tea, right? I can get it ready if you set up the movie.”

“Okay,” Roman agreed, though his voice held the slightest bit of suspicion.

“I promise I won’t tamper with it, Princey,” Virgil said, smirking, “no matter how much fun that would be.”

More like he didn’t know how to set up the DVD player and wouldn’t be able to figure it out. Not that Roman needed to know that.

Both sides took up their positions, quickly getting everything ready. In practically no time at all, he and Roman were sitting next to each other on the couch.

“Why is this movie your favorite?” Roman asked, interrupting Virgil’s thoughts.

Virgil turned his head towards the creative side, not hesitating in his answer. “The soundtrack.”

“But it doesn’t have any songs,” Roman said, confusion in his voice.

“A soundtrack doesn’t have to have songs with lyrics to be good. Listen to it,” he suggested. “You’ll see what I mean.” Virgil took the silence as Roman nodding. He turned back towards the movie, Roman probably following suit. Virgil could tell the other side was listening more intently to the music, not just the dialogue.  

At the end of the movie, Roman faced him. “As much as it pains me to admit it, you were right, Charlie and the Dark Chocolate Factory.”

“Really?” Virgil said sarcastically. “That one wasn’t your best.” He heard a sigh that was most likely accompanied by Roman rolling his eyes.

“You know what I mean, Virgil.”

Virgil smirked back at him. “And just what was I right about?” Another sigh.

“The soundtrack was indeed interesting. And pleasant to listen to.”

Virgil subtly felt his watch again. 5:32. He couldn’t let Roman know he knew what time it was, though. “What time is it?”

There was a pause- most likely the creative side searching for a clock. “5:32,” he confirmed. “Do you want to watch something else until Patton wakes up and makes us eat breakfast, or do you want to just make something ourselves?”

“What did you have in mind?”

“Well,” Roman said, “I was thinking about watching another Disney movie. Mulan, maybe?”

“Sure,” Virgil agreed. He had watched Mulan enough times to know what was happening on screen even without the audio description, though it certainly wouldn’t be as enjoyable. Oh well. “Do you want more tea, or something?”

Virgil heard a soft brush- Roman had probably shrugged. “Sure,” he agreed.

Now came the tricky part. That is, grabbing the mugs off of the table without knowing precisely where Roman’s was. However, just as he leaned forward to grab their empty drinks, Roman got up from the couch and presumably went to go change the DVD, which meant he would be facing away from Virgil. He quickly leaned all the way over the table and carefully slid his hands on it until he found both mugs, then grabbed them by the handles and walked into the kitchen.

Roman watched carefully as Virgil left the living room for the kitchen. The anxious side, for some reason, hadn’t commented at all on Roman looking back at him. Virgil had also not just grabbed their mugs. No, the anxious side, for some reason, had slid his hands along the coffee table until he found the mugs with his hands.

It was almost as if Virgil hadn’t seen them.

But that was impossible, right? Why wouldn’t Virgil be able to see the mugs when they were right in front of him?

The creative side thought as he set up the next movie and heard the other side moving around the kitchen. Roman was far more observant than the others gave him credit for- after all, how can you be imaginative without an attention to detail?

There were strange things that Virgil did that the others hadn’t noticed, or at least hadn’t admitted they noticed. The way he always skipped out on movie night with the others, even after they had accepted Virgil into the fold. When he obviously thought he was being subtle as he felt his wrist, and then usually asked for the time afterwards. How often he did do what he had done with the mugs while they were eating, as if he was checking the position of the cup before he lifted it.

Roman quietly gasped as a thought occurred to him. No way, that can’t be right, he thought. No freaking way. But there was a quote that Logan liked to occasionally say: "Once you eliminate the impossible, whatever remains, no matter how improbable, must be the truth.”

Holy crow, was Virgil blind?

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Another ficlet for @scarlet47 while she has to wait for the bigger piece I’m writing her (sorry love<3)


Harry bounced a bit on the balls of his feet, trying to stay warm in the cold air of nighttime spring as he rang Draco’s doorbell. He really hoped the man would still be awake. Or rather, that he’d be woken up by the sound of the bell. It was half past two in the middle of the night after all.

“Who’s this?” Draco’s groggy voice came creaking through the muggle speaker. It was a good thing he was barely awake, otherwise Harry would have probably received a scolding about ringing the bell for almost five minutes straight.

“Harry. I just, eh…” It only occurred to him then that he might be overstepping a bit. Just because Ron and Hermione were out of town didn’t mean Draco deserved to put up with his sorry, nightmare-suffering arse. “Can I come in please?”

Draco didn’t answer, just buzzed him through. It was still weird to see how the Slytherin lived, even after having seen his trendy muggle apartment a dozen times. They’d been dating for almost three months now, and had been an odd sort of friends for much longer.

Spurred on by the adrenaline in his veins, still there even half an hour after waking up screaming with an almost full blown panic attack, he took the stairs three at a time.

If Draco was surprised to see him at his doorstep so quickly, he didn’t show it. He just opened the door with his eyes still half closed when Harry knocked.

“Hi babe. Sorry for-” The words died in his throat. Because before him stood Draco Malfoy. In a dress. A white, ankle length thing with delicate lace around the neck line and large, puffy sleeves. “What are you wearing?”

Draco didn’t seem to grasp what his lover was so surprised about. “A night gown, duh. Why are you here?”

“Isn’t that like, a woman’s thing?” Harry had asked the question before his brain caught up with his mouth. Panic, dresses, bits and pieces of his nightmare and an incredible sense of love for the man in front of him flashed through his mind. It was all a bit much.

“In the muggle world maybe, but not for us.” Draco rubbed his eyes, with looked all together too adorable, and woke up a bit more. “It’s one of the very few pureblood things I still really like.”

“I like it too.” Harry smiled almost shyly during the confession and stepped inside, incredibly grateful not to be alone anymore. The distraction Draco offered, especially now with his weird sleeping attire, chased a lot of the panic out of his body. “Sorry for barging in like this.”

“‘S alright.” Something seemed to click behind Draco’s grey eyes, and he went from sleepy and confused to sleepy and understanding. He stepped closer to shut the door and wrapped Harry in a hug while he was at it. “Ron and Hermione are out of town, right?”

“Yes.” Harry melted into the hug and buried his nose in the intricate lace, inhaling Draco’s familiar scent. For a moment they just stood there, unmoving as Harry soaked in the real feeling of Draco’s body against his own, convincing him that yes he was alive, Voldemort was gone, the nightmare was just that; A nightmare.

“You’re really soft, you know that?” Harry let his fingers go over Draco’s back, feeling the slide of fabric impossibly soft against his skin. It was probably some sort of super fancy silk. “‘S nice. And you look cute in it.”

“Malfoy’s do not look ‘cute’, Potter.” Draco chided, but he was too tired to put any real venom in his words. “Can we go to bed now? I think I’ll fall asleep standing if I don’t.”

“Of course.” He quite literally swept Draco off his feet and made his way to the bedroom. The blonde didn’t even protest, just settled his head onto his shoulder. But when he put the man in bed and tried to crawl in behind him, Draco made him stop.

“Not happening, Harry.” His boyfriend turned them both around and tucked Harry in with the duvet before pulling him into his arms. It was an act of kindness Harry had never encountered before. “Can’t protect you from nightmares being the little spoon.”

Harry wanted to protest. He liked being big spoon better. Protecting others, even in their own bed when they needed no protecting whatsoever, made him feel safe too.

But when Draco’s strong arms pulled him closer, and the blonde lightly kissed the nape of his neck… Harry found out that maybe being the little spoon, being protected by someone else, wasn’t so bad.

Not so bad at all.

“Thank you.” He took one of Draco’s hands into his and and held it like the stuffed animal he’d never had as a child, tucked away against his chest.

“Love you.” Came the quiet reply, just before Draco fell asleep once again. Harry smiled. The nightmare seemed almost worth it now, knowing that he’d wake with Draco’s arms around him.

He could get used to that. Wanted to get used to that. After all, what place on earth was better than right there in Draco’s bed?


Draco’s gown is inspired by old victorian ish gowns for muggles, though I didn’t do research so if my description isn’t right then let’s just call it magical fashion

A few of Eddie’s journal entries over the years

6 years old:

August 10, 2006:

Some asshole of a child ruined my favorite shorts today by pushing me into the mud. Bill yelled at him and I cried. Stan from school was there with him. The kid who pushed me bought me ice cream a little after. He walked me home and talked the whole time. I don’t think he brushed his hair at all.

August 11 , 2006: 

Bill and I went into the woods today. His mother played us some music while we had snack. I went to the pharmacy to get refills. 

August  12, 2006:

Bill was busy today and couldn’t hang out. I spend the day watching TV with mom. I didn’t speak much today. 

August 13, 2006:

Bill was busy again today. I went to the park to get out of the house. The boy with the hair from 3 days ago was there. He sat with me and talked a lot and really fast. He knows a lot about dinosaurs and numbers. It made my head hurt a little in a nice way. We went to the deli together. 

He reminds me of the broken wind up toy that I have that doesn’t stop moving even when the pin stops turning. I love that toy.

August 14, 2006:

I had to stay in bed today because mom said my allergies would act up in the weather. I really wanted to go to the park with my friends. 

August 15, 2006:

Stan was at the park with his dad when I went. He was looking at birds and let me sit with them. He let me use his binoculars. I didn’t really speak today. 

August 17, 2006:

Mom’s friend came over. She smells like dirty dishes and the red grownup juice mommy drinks at night. Nothing really happened today. I didn’t talk much.

August 18, 2006:

I spend the whole day in the quarry with Bill. I told my mom I was at the park down the block. I’m worried she’ll know I lied.

August 19, 2006:

The boy with the hair has a name. Stan says his name is Richard but he likes to be called Richie. Stan thinks kids like shorter things and we might grow into our full names. Sometimes I think his thoughts sound like mine.

Richie was at the park when we went and I like listening to him talk. I learn a lot. He got sand in his hair and shook it on Stan. Bill laughed really hard. Today a lot happened. It was nice.

August 20, 2006:

I don’t feel like writing but I promised I would write everyday. I didn’t talk except for when the teacher called on me.

9 years old

March 10, 2009:

Richie howled the whole way from the quarry back to his house on his bike. He says it tricks the werewolves into thinking you are one of them. He says he’s not scared of werewolves but he does this every full moon. He gets mad if I don’t do it with him.

 So I howled until I needed to use my inhaler. Funny how fear works. 

March 11, 2009:

Bowers is a bully. That is all.

March 12, 2009:

Bill’s stutter was really bad today. He couldn’t say any of our names very well. We went to his house after school and we watched Mulan. He didn’t stutter on any of lyrics. Stan noticed, too, I think.

March 13, 2009:

Some kids were saying I’m still using training wheels because I’m small and I’ll break in pieces if I fall down. Sometimes I think they are right. I feel like one of those dolls that will shatter if I fall too hard. I hate it. I don’t like dolls. I’m not a doll. 

March 14, 2009:

Richie is a fucking jerk. I told him I was ok with the training wheels but he took them off my bike. He threw them away in the dumpster he knows makes my voice stop working.

I fell off the bike. My leg is all cut up and I had to use the big band-aids that I don’t have a lot of. When I finally got back he pushed me off and rode away on his. I wanted to hit him I was so angry.

I learned how to ride a bike today. Richie is still a jerk, though. 

March 15, 2009:

I’m not allowed to leave the house today. My mom didn’t like that I got hurt.

March 16, 2009:

I went bird watching with Stan and his father again. It was nice and still. Stan gave me a list of all the birds we saw and it is on my wall now. We saw 10 birds. It was a really fun day.

March 17, 2009:

Reason 78 that Richie is a jerk happened today. He took my inhaler and used it as a punchline for a joke. I’m mad at myself for laughing at it. I had to use it right after, because sometimes when I laugh too hard my lungs break. 

March 18, 2009:

Pharmacy after school today. I hate pharmacy days. Bill came with me and bought skittles. We shared them and went to his house to do homework. Georgie is getting really big. I remember the night Bill stayed over my house because he was being born. 

Time is weird. 

March 19, 2009: 

Richie wasn’t in school today. Stan said that Richie wasn’t sick so I don’t understand why he didn’t come in. 

March 20, 2009:

Richie sat out of gym with me today. He said his leg was hurting him. It was nice to have company for once on the bleachers, but I know Richie would have rather been running around with the other kids. He spend the whole period playing with my hands and hair and laughing when I slapped at his hands. I gave up and now ended up getting a knot in my hair.  

12 years old:

June 6, 2012:

My lungs were broken all day today. I couldn’t speak, I could barely look at anyone. Bill bought me skittles and I almost cried. 

I went home early from hanging out with my boys because everything was making my allergies act up. 

Richie came through my window and says he will sing me to sleep if I like. I have good friends.

July 20, 2012

A lot happened today. The kid who I sometimes talk to at the library was almost killed by Bowers. We’ve gained a new member, and I think I love him a little already. His name his Ben and I think Richie likes him a little, too. He kept doing his voice more than usual today while we were trying to help him. I found my forth forever friend, I think

Anyone who Gretta hates is a good person in my books. Beverly Marsh is amazing, and I think I can now finally ask her about how she makes her face look so wonderful without it being creepy. I want to know her my whole life. She is my fifth forever friend. 

July 24, 2012:

We threw rocks at Bowers and I gained another forever friend. Mike is wonderful. I think maybe everything about this summer is going to be important. Sixth forever friend found. I think I don’t need anymore after this.

August 10, 2012:

I don’t think I will never sleep well again. 

September 13, 2012:

I think I might like Richie the way I’m suppose to like girls.

 I’m scared to tell anyone so I don’t think I will. But it is hard to not look at him. He is really pretty, even though my mom says boys can’t be pretty. 

Maybe that is what it is really about. The curls and how beautiful he is. I’m sure I’ll like a girl soon. I’m just smaller than everyone else. Maybe I need time to catch up.

 He’s just really pretty, and sometimes I think whatever is up there wouldn’t make things pretty if they weren’t meant to be looked at and taken are of. Speaking of, he’s coming through my window now. 

I’ll write more tomorrow. 

October 9, 2012:

We were all together again today. My heart felt lighter than it has in a while.

14 years old

May 27th, 2014:

I spend almost the whole day with Stan and his father. We talked alot. Then I went over Bill’s house. 

Things were good today and my head felt mostly ok.

June 1, 2014:

Woke up feeling heavy. Something was different about Richie today and it took me a long time to figure out h ditched his glasses. I’m going to miss them, but he looks happier. That’s good. 

july 5 2014:

I can’t sleep. When I do I wake up far away. I stayed up, but I think Rich was having a nightmare. He woke up and wouldn’t let me leave the bed, which is fine. I don’t think I would have been able to get up anyway. 

July 10, 2014:

Hung out with the Losers today. 

July 11, 2014:

Hung out with the Losers again today. Ben and I cuddled. It was nice. I missed actually feeling being with them all. I missed them

July 12, 2014:

Almost used my inhaler today. Had to remind myself it wasn’t a real need.

July 13, 2014:

I don’t remember anything. I don’t think my head spend any time inside of my body. I can’t remember if I spoke today. 

September 7, 2014:

Richie spend most of today playing with my hair and fingers, but not how he usually does. He wasn’t fidgeting. I don’t know what he was doing, but anytime he was close enough his hands were on me. I think this boy may kill me. 

December 30, 2014:

I had too many panic attacks to count today. Used the inhaler Richie keeps with him for some reason. Didn’t talk at all. I should not have gotten out of bed. 

15 years old

October 13, 2015:

Saw the therapist for the first time today. That’s not what I want to write about. Richie was there when I got out. 

I love this boy and I think I have to live with that knowledge now. Guess I’m gay. Or at least, I love a boy

Any self inserts having a rough day? I gotchu.

First off, some reminders:

  • Your faves love you!! Every single one of them!!
  • Guess what??? Your faves still love you, all of them. Don’t let anybody tell you otherwise, because they’re incorrect, your faves absolutely adore you.
  • Having a problematic fave is okay! Having a villain/antagonist fave is also okay! (We all know they instantly become a huge softie around you anyways)
  • It’s okay if all you did today was a minimal amount of self care, or stayed in bed all day, or you did one productive thing today,  your faves are still proud of you. (They always will be)
  • It’s okay if you don’t draw self insert or write self insert fanfics, or make any other kind of content! You’re still a valid and lovely member of this community! 
  • If you haven’t been able to draw/write/make content that’s okay too! Your faves are proud of you for the content you make and they’re proud of you in general.
  • Your faves are the luckiest people ever, because they get to date you and you’re fucking wonderful.

Nice (self care-ish) distractions from whatever is upsetting you:

  • Feeling unmotivated? Sometimes thinking “(insert fave’s name here) would be proud of me for doing this” helps! You could even imagine them giving you some encouragement before doing the thing and/or imagine them praising you after doing the thing. 
  • Listen. To. Your. Fave’s. Voice. Don’t play the game or watch the series they’re from, just liSTEN TO THEIR VOICE. It’s the actual best thing ever to just sit and listen to your fave speak. If they don’t have a canon voice, listen to some fandubs or comic dubs! 
  • Make a folder on your phone/laptop/whatever and fill it with pictures/gifs of your faves! Or even make specific folders for specific faves or sources, make all the folders, go fucking nuts. Look through the folder(s) whenever you please. 
  • In addition to folders, make a playlists! No, not song playlists, i’m talking playlists of your favorite scenes, AMVs, memes, or anything else that involves your faves! Just… DO IT. (No pressure tho, but I 10/10 recommend)
  • Imagine your faves being there with you. This can be applied to literally everything. Crying/having a panic attack? BAM! your fave is there giving you a tight hug and whispering comforting words to you. Lying in bed? BAM!! your fave is lying in bed with you and you’re cuddling and it’s great. Just making some mac n cheese? BAM!!! Your fave is there, hugging you and resting their head on your shoulder like the big dork they are. 
  • Draw you and your fave! Even if you can only draw stick figures, draw those fucking stick figures dude I support you. (If you don’t have the spoons/motivation than that’s totally fine too, art is fun but it’s exhausting, even if it’s stick figures)
  • Enjoy whatever source material your fave is from! Whether it’s a game, comic, book or show. (If your fave dies in canon I recommend stopping before you get to the scene, since that will just worsen your mood)
  • Write a love letter to your fave! Type it out first, then leave it. Come back a little later and revise it! Maybe write it down on some fancy paper, fucking decorate that shit, make it all pretty, spray it with perfume/cologne if you’re feeling that extra, put that shit in a nice envelope and keep it somewhere safe. (If you don’t feel like doing all that then that’s totally fine! You could always just post it… And tag me in it because if somebody actually does this I waNNA SEE IT)
Richie finding Will’s drawings of Mike (Byler)

Imagine Will and Richie sharing a small, cheap dorm and being dormmates and one day Richie comes across all of Will’s drawings of Mike 

[Mentioned/Implied Reddie, stenbrough and benverly]

  • Richie was in search for his wallet in their messy dorm and was looking on Will’s desk. That’s when he saw them under piles of paper.
  • Richie has a small heart attack because Will has at least ten drawings of him and they clearly made with a lot of care
  • And then it really sinks in and all Richie can think is ‘shit’
  • Yeah he was flirty with Will but he was flirty with everyone and he didn’t think Will took him seriously!
  • The panic sets in and he’s got no clue what to do because this is Will Byers the softest, sweetest person Richie’s ever met and upsetting him would be like murdering a bunch of fluffy kittens
  • Richie calls Stan because he’s ‘Stan the man, the jew with a plan’ and he’s Richie’s best friend, he’s helped clean up Richie’s messes more times than anyone
  • Stan comes over begrudingly but only because through Richie’s incoherent babbling he hears Will’s name and now he’s curious and slightly worried
  • And because Stanley Uris has a soft spot for Will Byers
  • Stan comes over and Richie explains everything. Stan sees the pictures and he’s stumped because what the fuck? What the fuck
  • Richie’s still a mess and all that Stan really manages to get from Richie is the he’s flattered, thinks Will is great but not like that and loves his boyfriend Eddie a “Shitfuck ton” in Richie’s words not his own
  • Basically he’s not ready to turn down the nicest person he’s ever met.
  • Stan is still trying to process all of this
  • He’s confused as shit because Richie?? Richie Tozier??? Really????
  • Stan’s decided he’s finally learnt Will’s only flaw. He has shit taste in men
  • “What the fuck am I gonna do Staniel?!”
  • “How am I supposed to know?”
  • Stan does noT fEeL pRePaReD tO DeAl WiTh ThIs ToDaY or ever
  • “What do you mean you don’t know what to do??!”                              “Well what do you think I can do?!”                                                          “Tell me how to fix this!”                                                                        “Sew your stupid lips shut Trashmouth!”                                                    “Yes, thank you Stan that’s perfect.”
  • They’re both at a loss and at this point they’re just arguing so Stan calls Bill
  • Clearly Bill will know what to do, he’s their fearless leader and he’s always been good at guiding them in the right direction in Stan’s eyes
  • Bill’s quiet, just staring at the art for a long time. Stan and Richie both assuming he’s coming up with some sort of master plan
  • Bill looks up at them suddenly, his expression unreadable and then speaks “He- He’s a g-good dr- drawer”
  • Stan’s lost his faith in Bill and ten years are taken off of Richie’s life.
  • They decide to call Mike and Ben for this
  • They feel stupid not having gone to them first. Afterall, Mike is the go to for emotional support and Ben’s got a way with words unlike any other
  • Ben of course, brings Bev who is a laughing mess at the whole situation
  • “This is- This is just to good! How did this even happen Richie?”             “He was born. It all went down hill from there.”                                       “Now is not the time for your fucking attitude Stanley
  • Bill’s still being incredibly unhelpful, flipping through all the drawings instead of assisting in anything “Why isn’t Richie wearing glasses in any of these?”
  • Ben, always optomistic and nonjudmental gives a theory, “Maybe he can’t draw glasses very well?”
  • Stan, the fucker, has his own opinion “Richie’s less ugly without glasses”
  • Richie flips him off “Shut the fuck up Stan, you had a thing for me when we were thirteen and we all know”
  • Stan fake gags but doesnt deny it and Richie’s smiles smugly
  • Luckily Mike’s there and gets them back on track
  • They’re in the middle of discussing what to do when a pissed off Eddie Kaspbrak enters
  • Richie was supposed to meet him almost an hour ago for coffee
  • All the loser go quiet, even Bev which is a testament to Eddie’s power when angry.
  • Everyone knows that shits about to go down. Eddie gets jealous easily and really, who could blame him with Richie’s flirty nature. 
  • Eddie’s annoyed but also confused at the group gathering “What the fuck is going on here?”
  • Mike, the saint that he is, steps up and takes one for Richie the team. His voice calm and soothing as he explains the situation
  • Eddie stomps over to Will’s desk and is practically glaring holes through Will’s art. Which honestly, Eddie thinks are beautiful.
  • If the situation was any different he’d probably be asking Will to keep one. However the situation isn’t different
  • And of course Richie was going to get himself in shit eventually and of course it had to be with Will
  •  Eddie’s feeling a mixture of anger towards his boyfriend and sympathy towards his new friend Will, he’s been in the same boat as Will with Richie in the past and it was not fun
  • “Richard,” And holy shit! Eddie had only ever used Richie’s full name twice in all his years of knowing him. Richie is screwed, so very, royally screwed
  • “My sweet spaghetti let me-”
  • “Shut up.” Richie has never closed his mouth so fast in his whole life “I like Will Byers, we have english together. He’s my friend and he’s a wonderful person. I swear to god if you are an insesitive prick about this or crack some goddamn joke with him I will cut your dick off and feed it to the birds.”
  • Stan looks thoroughly disgusted and offended by that threat and Beverly is gone, her cackles filling the room
  • Mike looks tired.
  • Very, very tired and he finds himself thinking he should have stayed on the stupid farm
  • Richie is a mixture of terrified and turned on, Eddie always got this look in his eyes when he was mad that made Richie a little weak in the knees
  • Now the seven of them are all crammed into the room, writing out ideas on what they can do. Stan complaining about the lack of space and Bill, who is practically sitting in his lap, agreeing
  • They suck it up though. Because a loser and and a newer but still good friend are in need
  • When Richie hears keys jingling and a muffled but undeniably Will voice laughing and saying “That makes no sense at all Mike” he panics and crumples up the page of ideas, shoving it into his mouth
  • Eddie smacks him hard and forces him to open his mouth so that he can grab it by the very tips of his fingers, attempting not to gag
  • Ben’s a sweetheart and takes it from a disgusted Eddie
  • When Will opens the door his eyes widen, confused beyond belief at what is going on
  • Will’s eyes are darting everywhere trying to grasp the situation at hand.
  • Bill is sitting in Stan’s lap giving him a sheepish grin, Beverly silently laughing to the point of tears and Ben trying to calm her down. Eddie was glaring at his hands and agressively scrubbing them together
  • Richie was looking anywhere but at Will, the oposite of Mike who was starring directly at him as if he was in The Office
  •  “Uhm… Richie? I thought you were… going out today?”
  • Richie didn’t say anything, avoiding eye contact and Will’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion
  • “I was gonna hang out with Mike here. But if you’re busy.”
  • At his name Mike Wheeler peered into the room and everyone had to do a doubletake at the lanky guy standing next to Will
  • They were all caught in the middle of an awkward starring contest beore Richie blurted out “Oh thank fuck for Mike!”
  • The losers decided to make their exit now, all saying an  awkward hello to Will and his friend as they left, Stan stopping to apologize to Will before leaving with the others (he may have tidied up Will’s desk a little. But just a little.)
  • Now the only people left were Richie, Eddie, Will and Mike. It was quiet for a moment
  • “You have no idea how glad I am to have a doppleganger right now. See, I saw all your drawings and I thought it was me and that you were madly in love with me”
  • Will’s face was unbelievably red and Mike’s face was twisted in confusion. Eddie starred at the two, eyes widening as he realized Mike didn’t know
  • Mike didn’t know
  • “Turns out you’re just hella gay for Mi-” Eddie elbowed Richie a little harder than necessary
  • “We should go Richie!’ The two practically flew out of the room leaving Will and Mike on their own
  • “So… you draw me?”
  • Will is a flustered mess but he manages to nod
  • “Can I- Can I see them?”
  • Will goes over to his desk, legs feeling like lead
  • When he sees that Stan has organized his desk he thinks he should be uncomfortable or annoyed but a warmth settles in his chest, calming him enough to scoop up the pages and bring them to Mike
  • When Mike sees them he’s speechless, they’re stunning
  • “You… You really think I look like this?”
  • Will looks up at Mike a little confused and sees the insecurity in his face. “Well kinda… I think you look better.”
  • Mike’s head whips up to stare at Will who gives him a small shy smile
  • “I hope one day I’ll be able to get at least half of your charm and allure into my pieces.”
  • It’s quiet after that before Mike blurts out “Can I kiss you!”
  • Will’s eager and so is Mike and so there heads bump at first but on their second try their lips are brushing together and Will lets out a happy sigh as Mike pulls him closer a mantra of finally running through both boys heads
  • They’re interrupted by the door opening, Richie’s head popping in
  • “Forgot my wallet!” Richie at least looks a little bashful but that’s soon gone as he calls out “Get some Byers!” Before slamming the door behind him
  • Mike and Will can hear Eddie scolding him as they walk away
  • The two look at each other and burst into laughter, Mike wresting his forehead against Will’s and looking at him with affectionate eyes
  • Will thinks that next time he’ll highfive Richie when he makes a terrible joke. But just the once. Just so that they’re even
  • Before Will can think into that much more Mike’s lips are meeting his again
  • Okay maybe two highfives

Wow this ended up getting really long and out of hand!! I was only thinking of writing a small paragraph worth but now there’s this… hope you liked it though!

BTS Reaction: Your feature/quirk they fall in love with (request)

Jin:

Your (horrible) memory

It was an annoying thing about you at first. You were always forgetting to turn off the oven or not bringing back the right things from the store, but over time it was something he came to love about you. It is what made you, you. 

He became your second brain. “Babe, don’t forget the oven in five minutes.” “You got an appointment in the morning.” “That shirt had to air dry. Don’t use the dryer!” It was a role he eventually accepted. Overtime he even loved being right in almost every situation, plus he liked feeling needed every so often.

But if he had to be honest, sometimes he purposely wouldn’t remind you about a few small things. He loved seeing you in your cute little mini panic attack over the fact that you forget what potato chip flavor your friend needed for the party. “It was cheddar, babe” He would say only after your hands danced for your phone (which you forget you put in your purse and not your pocket) and then seeing that face of relief on you.

What he loved most of all was that despite how forgetful you were with useless details, you never forget the important stuff. You remembered your first date like it was yesterday, even remembering what he wore. You remembered his nerves when he first met your parents and the little facts he revealed in midnight conversations that he even didn’t remember.

Originally posted by blackandwhitebangtan

RM:

When you can’t tell a joke/ tell a story

Being the well spoken person that he had to be almost every day, he loved how you were the opposite. To many others this part about you would be a bother, but he couldn’t get enough of it. Sometimes it was even a game for to him to try and figure out  what you were trying to say.

He loved to hear you stutter over your words because  you were talking too fast. He loved that you would but like “Wait wait i forget this! Ok just let me back track!” You always spoke with so much excitement and your exaggerated moments with your energetic words only added to the experience that was your story telling. 

And the way you told your jokes, he couldn’t get over it. You never said a joke properly. You would always laugh in the middle of the sentence or even before you actually said anything. just seeing you have to laugh that bad made him laugh,

What he loved about this “quirk” was the fact that you were just so excited to tell him something that you heard or saw that you forgot to to even talk coherently. 

Originally posted by myloveseokjin

Suga:

Your eyes

Like they people always say, the eyes are the windows to your soul. That was the case when it came to you and Yoongi. He could always read your expression by your eyes. It was like the two of you had telepathy with only a quick look

He knew it was all cliche but he didn’t care. He loved the way your eyes sparkled when he showed you a new song or how they widened when he got home from a long tour or how you stared back at him when the two of you were cuddled in bed just talking about how the day had gone.

Originally posted by softjeon

Jhope:

Your smile

He didn’t care if a billion people complimented his smile, yours was the one that was made of real sunshine. The way you smiled was infectious. He couldn’t help but smile after seeing yours. To him, your smile could make the world smile.

No matter how small or how shy you smiled, it was always something about you that made his day better. It was always such a genuine expression from you. There was no way anyone could match the level of joy you gave off when you smiled. 

On top of it all came your shrieks of joy. Your voice just went so high pitch that only dogs could hear. He loved to surprised you with small gifts or try to make you laugh as much has he could just so he can at least get a smile out of you. 

Originally posted by sweaterpawsjimin

V:

Your hands

He loved your hands, not just because they were so small and cute compared to his, but because of just so much more. Like Suga, V would be able to read you like a book by your hands. Your hands were the stars of the show sometimes. He loved how you spoke with your hands, it was like it made your words 3D. They were like actor in a play, portraying the emotions to what you were saying. 

When you were nervous you would always play with your fingers, when you were hands they were always flying all over the place, when you were upset they would just tense up so cutely.

Your hands were so small compared to his. If he did half the things you did with your hands he would accidentally hurt someone But when you did them they made everything so fun and exciting and cute. 

And your hands were so gentle too. He loved the way your fingers gently run through his hair or over his skin. That way you held his hands or caressed him, he didn’t know how to put it in words. Just the way you used your hands with him or on him, they just expressed so much. 

Originally posted by sweaterpawsjimin

Jimin:

Your snorting

Snorting was something may others considered unattractive, but Jimin loved it. It was literally one of the cutest things about you. What he loved the most was how reacted after you did it. You would either get so shy and cute and try to hide your face in his chest or it would only make you laugh more. 

He always looked forwards to your laugh, he knew if he made you laugh hard enough it would happen, the best part was that he didn’t know when. 

Originally posted by parkjmzl

Jungkook:

The fact that you can’t sing

Your singing voice was something you were always self conscious about. Because of who he was and what he can do, you never ever wanted to sing in front of him (or anyone). The way you described it was like a cat trying to roar in front of a lion.

For a long time the most he ever heard you do was hum. But one day (101 days into the relationship) he finally got to hear your singing voice. It was horrible and he loved it. 

Your notes were out of tune, your voice cracked and you were never really on beat, but you sang with all your emotion. You felt every word and so did your body with how you danced along with what you sang. Your singing in the car or while you cleaned was an actual site to see. It was hilarious every time, but the fact that you only put on a “show” for him and a very select few of people showed him how important he is to you and how close you felt with him.

Originally posted by nochujungkookie

-Admin Boat & Admin Mineral

safe now || min yoongi

Min Yoongi x reader

Summary: You almost get attacked on your way home, and luckily Yoongi is there to help you through the panic, paranoia, and fear that comes afterwards. He always will be.

Genre: angst/fluff/comfort

Words: 2198

warning - panic attacks, catcalling/street harassment (?)

sorry :(((((

Originally posted by syubangel


I sat with my head in my hands on the sofa, my eyes closed and my breathing erratic, as I desperately tried to get what had just happened out of my head.

I had been pestered by some people on the way home, a group of men and a few women shouting derogatory things at me. They stopped me from walking and when I tried to walk away they wouldn’t let me. I stood in the middle of their circle, my head spinning as they threw words at me and grabbed parts of my body, and all I was trying to do was walk home. 

When I eventually broke free of them and hurriedly walked away I was shaking, but it wasn’t until I got home and put down my bags that I really thought about what had just happened. I could feel their hands on me, and every word they said echoed in my head as I shakily sat down and bit my lip. I took deep breaths to try and calm myself down, but I could feel tears building in my eyes.

I heard someone unlocking the front door and I panicked, trying to compose myself as I realised that my boyfriend, Yoongi, was home. He walked in with headphones on, and carrying several bags. He had put them down and was taking off his headphones when he finally saw me, sitting in the partially dark room.

“Ah- you scared me.” He started, before he looked at my face properly, knowing immediately that there was something wrong. He frowned quickly as I tried to smile at him, not trusting my voice to speak, but it was watery and unconvincing.

“Y/N?” His voice was suddenly very soft as he came over slowly and sat next to me on the sofa, trying to get a better look at my face. His hand came to touch my cheek as he looked at me concerned, “Y/N, what’s wrong?” I couldn’t stop the tears that fell from my eyes as I began to cry, remembering what those people had said to me.

I turned my head away from him, and he tried to touch me, but suddenly his hands were their hands and I didn’t want them anywhere near me. I jerked away from him and he held his hands up in defence, his eyebrows furrowed. “Woah, woah, it’s just me.”

I took a deep breath as I realised that it was just Yoongi, and he wasn’t going to hurt me. Tears continued to slip down my cheeks and this time I didn’t stop him when he slowly moved towards me and put an arm around me. Once he had me, he held me tight. He pushed my head into the crook of his neck, and I instinctively leant into him as he kept one arm tightly around my body and the other on the back of my head.

“Hey, shh, it’s okay. You’re fine.” He murmured, trying desperately to calm me down. I continued to cry, hating how weak I was being, but not being able to forget the hands touching me and the words hitting me from all sides. They had kept touching my hair and my arms and nauseatingly given me what were meant to be compliments, but they sounded more like insults. My breaths quickened as I remembered how trapped I had felt, surrounded by strangers that wouldn’t leave me alone. I was powerless and pathetic, and I hated it.

“Y/N, please calm down, please stop crying.” Yoongi whispered, worried and confused, and he squeezed me tighter, brushing his lips on the top of my head as he spoke. I tried to take deep breaths but the tears kept coming and I wound myself up, almost hyperventilating.

“Hey, breathe, baby, breathe.” He said a bit louder, noticing my laboured breaths. He pulled back from me and put his hands on either side of my face. I tried to turn my head away again but he held me firmly. I couldn’t breathe.

“No no no, look at me.” He stroked my cheeks as his eyes studied my face, concern and pain evident in his expression. “Breathe with me, okay?” He asked and I nodded, choking on air. He took deep breaths in and out slowly, softly rubbing my cheeks with his thumbs and keeping his eyes locked on mine. I tried to match my breathing with his and felt oxygen begin to fill my lungs a bit as I took shaky breaths. He gave me a small, worried smile.

“There you go, that’s it. Keep breathing.” He said quietly, nodding as he still took slow breaths in and out. After a minute, I felt my breathing even out and brought my hands up to cover his that were still holding my face. I closed my eyes, relishing in the feeling of being able to breathe again, and his hands moved from my cheeks to my lap, taking my hands in his larger ones.

“Y/N, what happened?” He asked quietly, and I opened my eyes to look into his concerned ones. I shook my head, realising how stupid it was. They had barely touched me, and here I was acting as if I’d nearly been killed. He would think I was pathetic.

“It was nothing.” I said, my voice still hoarse and weak, knowing it sounded ridiculous after the state I had just been in. He gave me an incredulous look, letting out a breathless and frustrated laugh.

“Yeah, like I’m going to believe that. Seriously, Y/N?” He asked disbelievingly. I sighed, he knew me too well to believe any lies I could tell him.

“I’m sorry, it’s just…” I struggled, looking away from him. “You won’t think it’s a big deal.” I tried to take back my hands from him but he held them tight. He shook his head.

“Don’t do that Y/N. Don’t do that thing where you don’t tell me things because you think you’re weak, or that they aren’t important.” He looked me firmly in the eye. “If it’s enough to make you that upset, then it is important. You are important Y/N, and it doesn’t matter how big or small of a problem it is, you tell me, okay?” I felt my throat close up again at his words. He was looking at me with such determination and strength, and I couldn’t help but feel as though I didn’t deserve this amount of care, this amount of love. I nodded.

“Okay.” I said hoarsely, and took a deep breath as he waited for me to continue. “I was walking home and these people… they…”

“Did they hurt you?” He asked immediately, suddenly alert. I shook my head but it didn’t seem to relax him at all.

“Not really, they just… shouted at me.” A few tears slipped out of my eyes as I remembered. “Stuff they wanted to do to me.” I saw his jaw clench and his grip on my hand tightened at my words. “There were loads of them Yoongi, and they wouldn’t let me leave.” I began to cry again, this time softly and quietly, and I was immediately brought into him again. He held me so tightly that I began to wonder if he was okay as I managed to calm myself down again.

“Where was this?” He asked, still gripping my body against him, his voice steady but angry. I shook my head.

“I’m not telling you.” He pulled back to look at me, and I was alarmed at the amount of fury in his eyes.

“Y/N, they harassed you.” He said, outraged. “I can’t just let them walk away.”

“Yes, you can.” I said firmly, knowing his anger got the best of him sometimes. “I’m fine now,” He gave me a look. “…and you’ll only cause more trouble going over there.” I finished, taking his hand.

“But…” He looked less angry and more desperate now. “they hurt you.” He almost whispered, and I gave him a sad smile.

“I don’t want you getting hurt.” I squeezed his hand. He looked at my face for a while, and I could see how badly he wanted to do something, but as much as he was angry, I could also tell he knew I was right. Going after them would only provoke them further. He sighed and nodded, giving in. He sat back on the sofa and opened his arms.

“Just come here then.” I gladly obliged, curling into his side and letting him wrap his arms around me once more. He pressed his lips to the top of my head.

“If I can’t go after them, I can sure as hell hug the hell out of you.” He said angrily, squeezing me tight and I laughed weakly, still feeling watery-eyed as I pressed my face into his side.

“I’m not against that.”

We sat quietly for a while as I finally calmed down, feeling safe with him next to me. He gently drew shapes on my bare arm and told me about his day, and I could tell he was trying to calm himself down, too.

When we finally stood up to head to bed, I glanced at the door nervously, wondering if they knew where I lived. It wasn’t too far from here, and they easily could have followed me.

“Y/N.”

I turned to see Yoongi standing at the bottom of the stairs, looking at me worriedly. He seemed to understand my train of thought.

“No one’s getting in. I promise.” He said reassuringly, holding out his hand. I spared one glance back at the door before nodding and taking his hand, letting him lead me upstairs.

We didn’t talk anymore about it but I couldn’t shake the unsettled feeling I had. I lay in bed, staring at the ceiling and fiddling with my fingers, not able to relax. I turned my head to look at Yoongi’s sleeping form and sighed. Biting my lip, my anxiety grew as I imagined them slamming our front door down and running in. I imagined their hands on me again, still able to feel them on my skin, and I imagined what they would do to me if they got in.

Had we locked the front door?

My breath caught as the thought came to me. I remember seeing Yoongi doing it: I wouldn’t have gone to bed if I hadn’t seen him turn the key. But maybe I hadn’t. I wasn’t sure. I clenched my fists, turning to Yoongi again. I decided I had to get up and check myself, not wanting to wake him up or worry him anymore.

“Y/N?” I stopped where I was, halfway out of bed, and turned back to Yoongi. He was still lying down but his eyes were open and alert, watching me carefully.

“Where are you going?” He asked as if he knew. I shook my head desperately at him.

“I just need to check that we locked the front door.” I whispered, my voice shaky. He shook his head at me.

“I locked it, Y/N.” He said steadily. I bit my lip, not believing him.

“Are you sure?” He gave me a small smile.

“Positive.” He lifted up his arm, nodding his head towards the bed. “Get back in here.” I sighed, knowing he was right, and got back in, shuffling under his arm, revelling in the warmth he was giving off. He didn’t say anything, but he held me against him again.

“Yoongi.” I whispered shakily.

“Hm?” He murmured in response, his chin resting on the top of my head.

“I’m scared.”

He shifted slightly, moving back so he could see my face, but keeping our legs tangled and our bodies close. He looked me in the eyes genuinely.

“I know.” He said gently, touching my cheek lightly. “But you need to understand that nothing bad is going to happen to you. Not tonight, not ever, as long as I can help it.” I took a deep breath in. “Do you trust me?” He asked quietly and I immediately nodded, no doubt in my mind. He nodded back at me. “Then trust that for as long as you keep me around, I won’t let anyone near you that you don’t want near you, and I won’t let anyone hurt you. And God knows I won’t let you walk home alone again.” He let out a breathless chuckle at the end, but I could see the concern and sincerity in his eyes. 

I believed him. I stared at him for a moment before leaning forward and pressing my lips against his, feeling considerable calmer as he returned the kiss gently.

“Thank you.” I said as I pulled away, and he gave me a small smile. I moved closer to him and he obligingly wrapped me in his arms again. His warm breath fanned the back of my neck as my head curled into his chest and our bodies entangled. His hand came to rest at my hairline, and his words were so soft I barely heard them, but just managed catch them in the silence of the room.

“You’re safe.”

And I knew I was.


masterlist

Don’t Sleep in Bucky’s Bed

A/N: Finally! I’m back with something new. I had this idea after seeing a Bland Marvel headcanon about how Steve had microfiber sheets and often found the different Avengers sleeping in his bed and was a-OK with it. And I couldn’t help that think that Bucky would absolutely not be okay with it. Except for this one occasion…

Word Count: 1,266

Warnings: Fluff, angst, panic attack like situation

Originally posted by elaacreditava


Rumor had it that the comfiest, softest, fluffiest bed in all of the Avenger’s compound belonged to none other than the Winter Soldier, Bucky Barnes. And honestly, you couldn’t blame him if it was. That man had gone through more than any person ever deserved. But here’s the thing: no one knew what Bucky’s bed felt like, except Bucky. No one, not even Steve, had been allowed to test this rumor. You’d heard once that a cleaner had tried to take a break and sit on the bed. Emphasis on tried. Come to think of it, you hadn’t seen that cleaner in a while…

Anyways… back to the story. It had been a bad mission. Some would say it had been successful, but to you, that was a completely subjective opinion. You could still see the face of the young woman staring at you before she’d been executed. You were told it was necessary. Saving her and the dozen others who had been slaughtered would have given away your position. But she had seen you. The look of despaired acceptance she had given you was burned into your brain. When you’d boarded the quinjet, collapsed into a seat and waited to go home, those eyes were all you could see.

You pulled your knees to your chest and counted the rows of metal plates on the floor and tried to memorize the pattern of the metal bolts holding the plane together. Just trying anything you could to forget. Trying to find the silver lining in this mission. Maybe, just maybe, you’d find it between the perfectly straight lines and in the cracks of those bolts. When none could be found, you put your feet back on that cold metal floor.

You could feel the humming vibrations as the quinjet began to take off and you knew you’d be home in an hour or two. The combination of Tony and Shuri’s technology never left you too much time to dwell on the mission. It had been a solo mission. Just a get in, get the intel, and get out. The only other person you’d come with was the pilot and he’d gotten the luxury of staying in the quinjet and taking a nap.

When you landed back at the compound, you’d thanked the pilot and grabbed your bag to get off that damned quinjet. All you wanted to do was go to your room and collapse on the floor. At least that’s what you wanted to do until the pilot spoke up as you walked down the ramp.

“You did everything you were supposed to do.”

You bristled, staring straight ahead. Everything you were supposed to do?! The crack on the dam was starting to grow and you could feel your chest start to tighten. You couldn’t do this. Not here, not now. With the briefest of nods, you got off of the quinjet and hurried into the compound.

Quickly, you made your way to the communal kitchen. Your breathing was getting shallower and faster and you were doing everything you could not to freak out. Your hands shook as you attempted to pour a glass of water. It was late, which was good. That meant no one was up to see the breakdown you were about to have.

You froze when the lights flicked on. “You know, it’s easier to not spill the water with the lights on.” You looked down, realizing that you’d misjudged where the glass was and was spilling onto the counter. You put the pitcher down, feeling disconnected as you turned towards the voice.

You should have known that Bucky would be up still. He never seemed to go to sleep at normal hours. “Sorry,” you mumbled, putting the pitcher back into the fridge. Bucky waved it off, smiling slightly as he watched you move. Your movements were slow and he knew something was bothering you.

“I heard how the mission went,” he started, stepping into the kitchen. What he didn’t want to tell you is you were the reason he was still up. He’d been waiting for you to get home, having seen the execution on the news. You turned back to look at him once more, the tightness in your chest pulling harder. The look in his eyes was all it took. A sob escaped your throat in a big gulp of air and you felt your knees start to buckle underneath you.

They never hit the floor though as a strong pair of arms wrapped around you. A hand went to your hair, stroking it gently. “I know, I know,” he whispered as you sobbed into his chest. You couldn’t speak as the sobs tore through you. You weren’t sure how long the two of you stood like that in the middle of the kitchen. Eventually, the sobs calmed down to a steady stream of tears and whimpers. The entire time, Bucky held you, rubbing your back and holding your head against his chest. You didn’t know until that moment that it was what you needed.

Once you had calmed down some, the exhaustion of the mission had hit and you sagged against Bucky. He smiled and kissed the top of your head. “Come on, doll. Some sleep will make it better,” he promised. Before you could go much further, Bucky scooped you up, easily cradling you in his arms. Normally you would have protested, but you were just too tired and the way he was holding you just felt natural.

You didn’t pay much attention to where Bucky was taking you, figuring it was to your own room. It wasn’t until you were sat down on a bed much softer than your own that you realized this wasn’t the case. Quietly, Bucky knelt down and began to pull your combat boots off. “Bucky, this isn’t my room. Why did you bring me in here?” you questioned, watching as he placed the boots on the floor.

Bucky shrugged, moving on to pull your socks off. “I don’t know. You had a rough mission and you’re probably going to have nightmares about it. This bed is really good at making sure you don’t have nightmares.” It was so matter of fact, you had a hard time arguing with it and it was clear that Bucky wasn’t going to let you argue it. And the bed really was soft. Even just sat on the edge, you could tell that.

Once your socks had been tucked into your boots, Bucky stood up and moved to sit on the bed next to you. You looked down at your hands, ready to hear the, “there was nothing you could have done” speech, but it never came. Just a hand reaching over to grab your own and squeeze it. “We’re going to get them, Y/N.”

You looked up at that moment and saw the determination in Bucky’s eyes. You smiled, the promise was exactly what you needed to hear after this horrible mission. Bucky put an arm around your shoulder and gently laid you down on the bed. You knew what was about to come out of your mouth was going to be cliche and on the verge of cheesy, but you couldn’t help it.

“Bucky… will you stay?” You looked up at him, hoping that you hadn’t just embarrassed yourself beyond oblivion. Bucky smiled and slid into the spot next to you, answering your question with his actions. His arms wrapped around your middle and with a contented sigh, you realized the rumors were absolutely true. This bed was the comfiest in the compound.

Dont Panic (Colby Brock)

Anon requested: Could you maybe write one where Sam Colby Elton Corey and the reader do an overnight video somewhere creepy and scary stuff happens so it makes Colby get extra protective of the reader? Btw your imagines are so amazing and so well written!! 💕

“Are you seriously asking me to stay the night at a graveyard with you guys? With the Ouija board? Have you met me?” You asked while looking at Colby in disbelief. The two of you were laying on his bed, you had just gotten off of work and he was editing a video. He had asked you to come with him, Elton, Sam, and Corey to film a TFIL video. “Uh, yeah. It’ll be fun, where’s your sense of adventure?” he asked sarcastically. “Adventure? Adventure is hiking up a mountain or jumping out of a plane, its not summoning demons and sleeping on gravestones.” You laughed. 

“C’mon, babe. I’m serious, nothing is going to happen. If anything, I’ll protect you.” He said the last part while making his voice way deeper and sticking out his chest, making you giggle. “You know If a demon actually wanted to kill us, we’d all be fucked, and no amount of bicep will save us. But fine, I’ll go but I’m not touching that board.” You reasoned. He agreed, and the two of you decided to take a nap before you left, since you probably wouldn’t get much sleep that night. 

The later it got, the more nervous you felt about the whole ordeal. Aren’t there, like rules about graveyards? We have to be pissing something off by staying there but playing the board is another story. You thought to yourself while packing your backpack for the night. “Ready?” Colby asked as he appeared in the doorway. “It’s Satan o’clock.” He joked while looking at his watch. “You’re hilarious,” You said with a straight face. “And yeah, ready as I’ll ever be.” You sighed and swung the bag onto your back. 

The five of you piled into Elton’s car and began driving. Elton used every opportunity to try and scare everyone by telling the history of the location, so you put in your headphones to drown him out. The less you knew the better, right? Colby could sense your anxiety so he put his arm around you and pulled you into him. When you arrived, you reluctantly left the safety of the car and followed closely behind Colby, already wanting to grab his hand. You didn’t expect to be this scared, this quickly, but the graveyard gave you a really strange feeling that you couldn’t quite place. 

While Elton did his intro, you were fine. You stood in frame, beside everyone, and tried to look like you weren’t already terrified. However, not surprisingly, as soon as Elton mentioned the Ouija board, your uneasy feeling grew. They all decided not to look around first, but to just jump right in with the board. You and Corey weren’t playing, so you sat together behind the group, but still in view of the camera. 

Elton started with the classic, “Are there any spirits that want to communicate with us tonight?” and the planchette moved to yes. Of course there are. You thought. “How old are you?” It moved to the number six and stayed there. Amazing, its a kid too. You looked over at Corey, who looked just as afraid as you did, which made you feel slightly better. “Do you want to harm any of us?” Elton asked. You watched in horror as it moved to yes, unable to take your eyes off of it. You felt sick. Elton, Sam, and Colby all looked at each other with concern. “Okay,” Elton continued. “Who exactly do you want to harm?” Slowly, the planchette started to spell your name. “Who ever is doing that, fucking stop, it isn’t funny.” You spoke up. “We aren’t doing this, (Y/N).” Elton said. 

He and Sam were both looking at you while the planchette still spelled out letters. Colby was just staring at it, in shock. “Colby if you’re doing tha-” You started, but you were cut off by the piece flying off of the board and landing at your feet. You jumped up and screamed. Suddenly, you found it very hard to breathe and your chest felt heavy. You had never had a panic attack before, but you were pretty sure this was it. Colby got to you first and helped you sit down while ordering Elton to take the board as far away from you as possible. The boys crowded around you which made you even more upset. “Can you guys give her some space? She can’t breathe!” Colby yelled before looking down at you. 

“Baby, I need you to focus on my voice and try to take some slow, deep breaths.” You nodded and started to match your breathing with his. When your heart rate returned to normal, the tears came. You reached for Colby and he scooped you into his lap. You clung to him for dear life and buried your face in his chest. He held you tightly and stroked your hair, trying to comfort you. “What’s going to happen to me?” You wept into his chest. “Nothing is going to happen to you, Love. We are all going to leave right now.” He reached under your shirt and started to rub soothing circles on your back. “We aren’t leaving, it’s only 3 am.” You heard Elton say, making your breathing erratic again. 

“This isn’t the fucking time Elton, she’s more important than this video and if you won’t drive us, I’m calling an uber. Colby went to stand and picked you up with him. You wrapped your legs around him to help him hold you up. “I’m with Colby on this one, Elton, that’s really fucked up.” Corey added. Sam agreed with Corey, and Elton finally complied to driving all of you home. Colby carried you to the car and helped you in, only letting go of you to climb in himself. 

When you pulled into the driveway, Colby went to pick you up again, but you stopped him. “I can walk, Baby. I’m okay now.” You said softly, giving him a reassuring smile. He nodded and let you climb out of the car by yourself, but he didn’t let go of your hand. You said goodnight to everyone as he led you upstairs to the bedroom. You changed clothes and collapsed into bed, exhausted. 

Colby climbed in after you, and pulled you into him. You wrapped your arms around him and tangled your legs in his, your head finding its place on his chest. “I’m so sorry, (Y/N). I’m so sorry. This is all my fault. None of this would have happened if I didn’t make you come with me.” He stared at the ceiling. His voice faltered slightly as he spoke. You looked up at him. “I agreed to come. This isn’t anyone’s fault.” You planted a gentle kiss on his jaw, then placed your hand on his cheek and turned his head so that you could look into his eyes. “You are not responsible for what happened tonight. I love you.” You leaned in and have him a real kiss, which he returned eagerly, as if it was what he needed to know that you didn’t have any resentment for him. “I love you, too.” He breathed, and you felt his body relax under you. 

The two of you stayed this way all night, interlaced in one another. Both of you were completely drained from the night’s events, and didn’t plan on doing anything like that again.

Cold Water, I’m Underwater

Anonymous user requests: “A fic with steve rogers where maybe the pipes break down in steve’s suite so when he goes to take a shower, he’s hit by a blast of water and has flash back and (reader) finds him hours later in his bed trying not to have a panic attack?”

Summary: Steve has always hated the cold, and the reader finds out just how much.

Warnings: descriptions of a panic attack, angst, the reader see’s Steve naked.

Pairing: Steve Rogers x reader

Word Count: about 870

A/N: I changed the request so that Steve was still in the shower because that made a little more sense to me.

MASTERLIST

Originally posted by nomadssteverogers

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The One (Part II)

Part I <- Part II –> Part III

Genre: Hybrid!Taehyung, Fluff, Angst, slight smut 

Paring: TaehyungXreader

Word-count: 5K

Warnings: Abuse, unjust, anxiety, forcing, animalistic feelings, panic-attacks, teasing, chasing, indication of mating, dominance

Summary: You’ve never liked the idea of hybrids, since it’s straight up abuse from a owner to a hybrid, they aren’t treated like humans. But what happens when your boss gave you a hybrid as a gift?

A/N: y’all, we’re on 1100 followers?? Where are you people coming from? Well, welcome to the family anyways lol xD. btw, should I add smut the next part? Or is it rushed idk. 

Masterlist

‘If you talk back to me, you will be punished. If you refuse to give me what I want, you will be punished. So watch what you do little kitten.’ The woman whispered into the hybrid’s ear, hissing every word out while she has a tight grip onto his jaw. He closes his eyes, scared till death that she will maybe hurt him if he accidentally makes a sound. He doesn’t know why she suddenly became so edgy, he hadn’t done anything out of the ordinary. He hadn’t broken anything in the house, he hadn’t complained. Nothing, literally nothing. But still, she was mad at him.

’Say it.’

‘Yes m’am.’ He says with a shaky voice. He now could feel the tears coming up and this time, he isn’t able to hold back. He just wants to cry, even in his little room for that matter. He doesn’t want to be close to her, but does he have a choice? No, not at all. If he doesn’t obey her, she will eventually send him back to the factory, where he got created. From there, they would give him therapy, everything to change him and to send him to another person.

‘Good kitten. now, go and lay on the bed and open your legs as far as you can manage. I will get the whip, because you need to be punished.’

Keep reading

A/N: Okay, you guys. I just can’t wait any longer, I’m so excited to share this fanfiction (and this cover) with you all. I am so hyped! May I introduce? In a heartbeat.

Synopsis: Showing up on time for an important job interview is all you worry about when you rush through the streets of New York City on a sunny day, not expecting at all to bump into Thor, God of Thunder and his mischievous brother Loki. Before you know it, you get dragged right into a gruesome battle between two foreign realms and the atrocious menace of Ragnarök, confronted with breath-taking magic, terrifyingly hazardous threats and a fierce warrior who claims to be a Valkyrie. And as if this wasn’t enough already, you find yourself headfirst falling in love with the God of Mischief who, much to your disppointment, already seemed to have set his eyes on someone else, leaving you struggling with rejection, jealousy, heartache and more antagonising pain than your human heart could ever cope with.

Pairing: Loki x Reader
Rating: M
Chapter: 1/?
Warnings: SPOILERS FOR THOR RAGNAROK, violence and blood, mentions of slavery, death, self-harm, depression, panic attacks, jealousy, grief, heartache, smut, Dom!Loki. (More warnings might be added throughout the story)

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okay i know i made a giant post talking about the video but i just can’t let it go.

Look guys, i adore Patton. I really do, he’s one of my favorite characters, but because he’s so different from myself i find it really hard to relate to what he’s going thru currently. If anything he reminds me of my best friend and that just makes me want to protect him.

On the other hand we have Virgil, a character i actually really relate to, and Logan , who i also relate to a lot.

When i’m faced with things i can’t get out of i react by lashing out.

Logan was faced with a situation he couldn’t fully explain, in a setting where he was being ignored, in a room where he had no control of anything. He lashed out in self defence and confusion. We can actually say Logan was scared because a part of him sees the path Thomas is going regarding his career as a waste of what he could have done, he says and points this out several times during the video. But also he was scared because his plan failed, his last move of action to get Thomas to a more benefitial mind set was shot down by all the ones who shouldve been helping.

We can’t forget that Logan was being incredibly pushy regarding going to where he thought would help. He forced his opinion over Patton’s and made him do something he was clearly uncomfortable about [letting the others into his room], but he didn’t do it out of malice, he did it of ignorance and a wish to help.

Virgil on the other hand tried to play the peace maker of all the characters, trying to interrupt when Logan was pushing too much out of Patton [but Virgil himself gets interrupted by Roman] and trying to reign Roman in when his ideas start getting more and more frantic and slightly creep. He also gets startled when Thomas screams and i love that

Then Virgil is thrown into a room so different from his own, and is the last one to enter it because he kept having doubts about it, that the first thing he says when he appears in it is relevant to feeling ashamed and embarassment, calling his past work cringy and edgy

The longer he stays in the room the worse it starts affecting him. The other two [not counting Logan] are hit with full happy and nostalgic memories but Virgil is being attacked by every embarassing thing Thomas ever did, and it’s taking a toll.

The room is shiny, almost ethereal, incredibly surreal looking. For a being like Virgil, who needs a reality check, this is already upsetting. Add in to the fact that the other two are hyper, and Roman franticness is being directed at different things instead of their lost love. Virgil is standing right beside a frantic and loud person while in a surreal looking space.

That’s why when he reaches the binder of papers he has in hand he enters a non-verbal episode. It’s suddenly too much, everything is happening too much and too loud and too bright and too surreal. Besides suddenly going non-verbal he starts to panic slightly, hidding behind whatever he has at hand [which is still the binder of papers], shifting eyes constantly, not making eye contact, doubling over himself and making himself look smaller.

Also please notice the background music in that moment. Yeah, sure it’s happy, but there’s an eerie quality about it until it changes when Logan has a realization.

It takes Virgil a really long time compared to usual to say “no” and when he does his voice dones’t sound like his, and he covers his mouth immediately after. Then Logan tries to get them out of there for Virgil’s and Thomas’s sake, but no one listens to him. He gets ignored, he gets hurt, he lashes out and hurts Patton. In his rage he goes away.

Now there are a few interesting things. Patton looks guilty but sad, Thomas looks shocked and confused but its a duller look, Roman looks surprised but in general unconcerned. And Virgil?

Virgil looks terrified.

Logic and Reason has just left the room. The only thing keeping his own personality trait [Anxiety] in check has just left the surreal ethereal looking room. Virgil is left without a support. And he’s terrified