hi, i'm riley. i'm sixteen and i love writing so much. it's one of my favorite things to do, and i really hope you all will enjoy my writing!! prompts are: closed
hey guys. I'm sorry I haven't posted on here in a long long time. I've started school again so it's getting harder to find time to write, and on top of that I haven't really watched AH/RT stuff in like, two or three months. I'm not saying this blog is done for, but it's just probably not going to be active that much. I apologize I haven't updated you guys about this sooner. I have seen all of your requests, I promise I have! I will try to write them soon but they may not be very long, and I may not even really be able to get to them all in a timely manner. I'm really really sorry to keep you guys waiting. in the meantime, if any of you guys like Game Grumps, you should check out my Dan/Reader fanfiction! I'm on mobile so here's the link: http://archiveofourown.org/works/4510938/chapters/10259799
on here, yes! if you request to my main blog, i’ll try to write something for you that’s not a reader insert on there, depending on what the prompt is. :)
gonna start working on the three requests i’ve gotten! i might need to put the joel one on a bit of a hold because im not too familiar with him. i’ll probably need to do some character study on him! but the other two, i will get cracking on!! <3
When you post a fic, could you also please tag rt imagine if something along those lines? I use that to keep track of all the new fanfic a from the entire rt community.
absolutely! thyanks for asking! i’ll go add that to my two old ones and remember to do that in the future <3
ship: ryan x reader
word count: 1319
warnings: panic attacks
rating: g (i don’t think there’s like, any swears in here)
a/n: michael is also in this one! it’s established that the reader has anxiety, but ryan doesn’t know that much about it. it’s implied that michael and the reader are good friends. also, you should change (y/n) to your first name, and (y/l/n) to your last name for maximum viewing pleasure! :)
It was just the two of you. Alone. At the office. You’d been dating awhile, but not long enough for him to know you had anxiety. You'd been dating long enough for you to trust him, but not long enough for you to trust him with that.
Of course, as he sat there, fingers deftly working on the keys of his keyboard and other hand wrapped around a can of diet soda, you had no choice but to try to escape the room when you felt these feelings approach.
You tried to think of people you could go to instead of him, people who knew. Lindsay was one. Michael was another. Hell, anyone EXCEPT Ryan was a valid option. Ryan couldn't and didn't know. You cleared your throat of the congestion that forced itself there, and also as an attempt to relieve the pressure in your chest, "I'm gonna run to the bathroom. Be right back."
You began your walk to the door from your desk, only to feel as though the walk were a thousand miles. You trudged, hand over your heart and eyes watering, hoping to whatever deity that he wasn't looking at you. You didn't make it to the door, however.
Your knees buckled and gave way and you hit the concrete floor with a chilling thud. He paused, the *tappa-tappa-tappa* of his fingers on keys stopping, and you heard the sound of his chair against the floor and the aggressive pitter patter of his feet.
His voice rang out against the stark silence, "Are you okay?" You didn't respond. Your throat was tight and you felt like you had swallowed cotton wool. "Talk to me. What's going on?" He didn’t seem to catch on to the fact that your throat wasn't functioning. With another confused expression, Ryan attempted to salvage the situation by sitting you up. But this idea was quickly stopped by the fact that you began coughing and your hands were gripping and grappling for something, only to come up short with nothing.
He put a hand out and clasped it into yours, your fingers holding his in a death grip. "Hey, you're alright. Listen to me." His voice just wasn’t penetrating your brain though, and you felt yourself coughing harder, eyes watering and chest filling with more tension. Your mouth felt dry from hanging open in desperation to breathe, and this made your body attempt to create something to wet your own mouth. It didn’t work, sliding back down your throat. You began to choke.
"Relax baby relax," he pleaded. He pushed you into a sitting position, gently, and patted at your back, pulling your arms up over your head to stop your choking. "That's it. Keep coughing." The coughs became harder, more like hacking as the spit you forced out of your throat combined with snot and tears. You felt my throat close up in more ways than one. Ryan patted harder, his face contorted into anxiety as well, "Baby breathe. Cough. C'mon, you've got it. You've got it." He was handling it shockingly well for having no idea what was going on.
You forced coughs as your brain muddled together. When you managed to stop choking several minutes later and your breathing slowed, you immediately began crying. Your cries were loud, keening ones, sobbing angrily with intermittent apologies strewn in between the tears.
Ryan didn’t know how to handle the situation, so he went with his gut, pulling you close against his chest and whispering, "Shhh, shhhh. It's okay baby. You're okay. You're okay. It's fine." He had no idea what you was apologizing for, and at the moment you didn't either.
The door swung open with you held in his arms, sobbing brokenly against his chest. Michael looked between the two of you as he walked quickly towards you, "I heard her crying. Is she okay?"
Over the sounds of your sobbing and sorries, Ryan spoke, "She got up saying she had to go to the bathroom but collapsed halfway through. Then she couldn't talk and she was coughing and choking for about five minutes. Then she just started sobbing and apologizing and I didn't know what to do so I just held her and told her it was okay."
You continued apologizing, louder this time because you felt guilty for attracting the attention of Michael and for stopping Ryan from his work and because Ryan didn’t know what to do anyways and for so many other things you didn't even know you were upset about. Your keening got loud, to the point where both Ryan and Michael were gently shushing you.
Michael said, "Shhh. It's okay."
And Ryan said, "You're okay, love. It's all okay. Everything's okay."
Them telling you it was okay did not make it any more okay. Your chest tightened and you gripped at the gray fabric of Ryan's shirt more tightly.
Michael said quickly, "Ryan if I may."
"Sure," he responded just as fast, undoing the vice he has created around you with his arms, and opening you up to Michael.
He said your name first. You did not respond to it. "Look at me." His voice was direct, and to some it may have sounded cold, but being concise is important in this situation. You raised your eyes to his for a moment before flicking them back down. "Look at me,(y/n)." You forced yourself to look into his eyes as you sobbed and apologized more. "You are okay. Breathe in through your nose, and out through your mouth." He counted breaths for you, and you heard Ryan doing them with you, his hand gentle against your forearm. "Good. Good girl. Now relax. Close your eyes and just relax. Can you talk?"
You nodded, and said, "Yes."
"Good. Do you know where you are?"
"I'm at work."
"Where is that?"
"Austin, Texas."
"Good girl. Do you know who I am?"
"Michael."
"Michael what?"
"Michael Jones."
"Who else is here with us?"
Ryan's hand rubbed against your arm again, soothing, "Ryan."
"Ryan who?"
"Ryan Haywood."
"Yes. What do you remember about him?"
"He's my boyfriend."
"Mhm. That's it." You felt your body relaxing, but you still felt as if you were floating, not really there, disassociated.
Ryan's hand squeezed gently on your forearm, and Michael carefully pulled a hand into his own. Ryan's hand left your forearm and went for the other hand. Ryan quietly asked, "Why are we doing this part? Not that I don't like holding hands with my girlfriend of course."
"To ground her. She's disassociating."
"Which is?"
"It's like seeing yourself doing something. An out of body experience."
Your eyes watered and you desperately wanted to cry again. Michael quickly tried to stop this, "No no. Don't cry. You're okay. You're right here with me and Ryan."
Ryan spoke, "You're right here with us. Don't worry, dear. We're right here."
You felt your body coming back down, tethered to the spot by their two hands and the words they said to you. With a relaxed sigh you closed your eyes tighter and felt sleepy. Michael slowly let go of your hand, knowing you were grounded. "Ryan, she's gonna be sleepy now. I'd either take her home or set her on the couch so she can sleep."
Ryan nodded, and Michael got up. He left. Ryan asked you, "Do you want to stay, or go home?"
The only word you got out before sleep consumed you was "Home."
Noticing the fact that you were asleep, Ryan scooped you up into his arms, a chuckle rumbling deep in his chest, and he says, "Homeward bound, then, my love." After gathering his things and yours, he got in his car, you gently placed in the back seat, and headed home. You were placed in bed gently, and a kiss was pressed to your forehead, "Sleep well, dear. We'll talk about it tomorrow."
ship: michael x reader
word count: 946
warnings: none
rating: pg-13 (swearing, yo!)
a/n: first post...even though i have no followers. lol. anyways. here’s this thing. it’s based on taylor swift’s “how you get the girl.” alas i can only find a cover version, so it’ll have to do: here.
The rain was pouring, slapping hard against the windshield as Michael slammed on the gas, pressing eighty five on highway 270. It was almost eight pm, and the lights of other cars and the street lamps were beginning to pop out as circles and blotches of color. Michael shook his head as he drove, the wind pushing his car and the rain slapping harder. He regretted only wearing a beanie and a hoodie rather than his winter coat. As he made the turn to exit onto Blouson Drive, he thought again why he was doing this. He reminded himself of the million reasons he knew even when it happened six months ago. Michael knew what to expect, and he knew that it was his worst mistake. He felt the pressure on his leg from the contents of his pocket, and bit his lip in determination, staring farther through the windshield.
As he stood there in the rain, wiping his glasses and contemplating his decision at the end of the street, he wondered if what he believed to happen actually would happen. Michael didn't know what would happen. He didn't know if he'd have stuff thrown in his face along with the door or if he'd get a kiss and an 'I forgive you' with it. He just hoped to whatever deity that he wouldn't be leaving with a black eye. And with that thought in his mind, he began his trek up the street.
With a knock, body soaked to the bone, and a shiver, Michael waited for you to answer the door. When it opened, you looked confused, then upset, the concerned all at once, "Are you fucking insane?" And he just shrugs because yeah, he probably is. He probably is insane for trying to rekindle the very love he doused with a gallon of water.
"I just wanted to tell you some things," Michael told you.
"Okay. Go for it." You leaned against the door, your hip hitting the side of it in a cocked expression that he remembered always made him laugh because a sarcastic comment usually followed. He pushed away the pang of want to put his arm around your waist as he speaks.
"It's been, uh, six months since I broke up with you."
"Yeah. So you can count to six now. Amazing." There was the sarcastic comment he'd anticipated.
He brushed it off and continued, "I only broke things off because I was too afraid to tell you what I wanted, and how much I really loved you. And I know that I left you, all alone that night. I--Ryan told me about what happened at the office when I left after I did it. I left you alone and I didn't tell you the reasons until now. I left because I was selfish, because I didn't want to see that look on your face. I didn't want to face the truth.
"I spent so long lying to myself that it took me this time to realize it myself. It took me forever to figure it out, to decipher the words my heart was fucking..screaming at me. You remember how it was, don't you?" Michael asked you. You nodded.
"We used to have pictures of us on our desks. It was one that one of those professional photographers took. You were kissing my cheek and I was looking down at the ground, wearing a white sundress and you in the nicest hoodie and jeans you had, cause that's all you have."
"I...," Michael trailed, but regained the strength in his thoughts. "I want you. I want you back and I want you to know how much you mean to me. I..I don't just mean like for the weekend or like some sort of quick hookup, I want you back for the long term." And he reached into his pocket, and pulled out a velvet box, with a sparkling ring in it. He knelt on one knee, and he said, with such conviction, "I don't just want this to be a fling. I want you for better or for worse. I would wait forever and ever for you, even if you won't say yes now, I'll wait. I'll wait for you. I know, I broke your heart..shattered it into a million pieces. That night you swore to Ryan and to Geoff and to everyone there that you'd never date again, you'd never trust someone with your heart like that...and you became cold and just...so walled in.
"But I also will help you put it back together. I'm not saying I'm here to save you, because you don't need a knight to take care of yourself. I'm here for the support and SuperGlue you need to fix together the crumbled little bits of your heart. I...just... Fuck. I really love you. I really really do." And Michael knew just exactly what you were thinking. He knew you wanted him to stay. His voice was clear and completely knowing as he asked you, full aware of your answer, "Will you marry me?"
And your hands go to my mouth, though you had seen the ring in his hands during the last part of his speech. "Yes. I will. Always and forever," you told him, as you had said to each other so many times before.
"Always and forever," he echoed, sliding the ring on your finger and pressing a long kiss to your lips. You felt at home and you felt safe. It was a long six months, but you’re happy that you ended up with Michael again. You don't know where you'd be if you hadn't.
