I’m currently tossing around like 12 different ideas and have so many 20k word chunks for each, and for others I have the first chapter written out, but I just can’t bring myself to plan out the rest of.. any of them. Even the ones currently active on my AO3 have been stalled since two weeks before finals week, and finals week was more than a month ago.
Just to put into perspective how fucking bad my procrastination is, the BKDK Tangled AU I’m working on already has a fucking plot. I’m literally basing it off the movie and I still can’t write it out. The others I have a timeline written out on paper, but I can’t find the words to get from point A to point B. I forgot that when my writers block hits it hits so fucking hard that I forget I even have writers block end up biting off more than I can chew. idk if that made any sense but I’m trying to say that it’s a goddamn cycle.
I forgot to mention that instead of working on my fics/next meta I’ve decided to pick up Greek mythology and read all and annotate everything Karl Marx has written. Which I probably will end up dropping for something else.
I wrote this because @lizdexia and her asks got on a role with sleepy Alex and lovely Washington and comfy qpq cuddle fic, and I've been in a bad brain place, and it was delightful and I wanted to play?
I can't decide if it's fic or ramble, I played with a new style all together, and I've never given a real go at writing this fandom yet, so???
I hope it's okay??? I might write more??? I don't know???
Have some bad day qpq cuddle fic?
He can tell even as he wakes up that it’s going to be one of those days.
It’s going to be one of those days where he’s uncomfortable in his own skin, shifting anxiously and wandering around the apartment uselessly. It’s a Day Off- he’s under strict instructions there, Day Off, capital letters, you have one little anxiety breakdown and everyone gets all fussy at you- which is just going to make it worse. He’s got a million things he could be doing, enough energy built up that he could probably make it through about half of the list, but he’s too shifty to settle on anything. That will end up being for the best, probably; if anyone finds out he spent his Day Off working he’ll end up suffering the consequences--- lectures from Laf, ranting from Laurens, disappointment from Eliza, and he doesn’t even want to think about what George will do, will say, will look like.
But it means he’s going to spend the day uncomfortable, trapped in this apartment, in his own skin, with his own brain and thoughts and energy and the unhappy looping feedback about everything he’s ever said or done or thought or misunderstood or---
His chest tightens up and he stops himself there, breathing in deeply, letting it out slowly, repeating until the electric grey that’s filled up his brain, his vision, seeps away and leaves the world the right color, if a little dull. He pulls the pillow over his face and muffles a frustrated yell into it, then flops over, pillow and all, to press his face into it even more, pulling the blankets up and blocking everything out.
He counts his breaths for a while, presses one finger lightly against his wrist and counts his pulse for a while, counts along with the heating as it ticks quietly.
Eventually he gets up, off the bed, stands up, out of the blankets, looks around- looks around looks around looks around looks around- and runs his hands into his hair, gripping just slightly. It’s too cold outside of the blankets, but he needs to be up, needs to be doing something. There are a few half finished papers on his laptop, a couple more that could use another edit, and his inbox could definitely use a cleaning… or maybe he should read through that proposal that he’s been postponing- 75 solid pages of boring as shit reading, yeah, that’s just what he needs to do right now.
He’s still standing there- swaying slightly, lips pursed, hands still in his hair, staring blankly at the wall in frustration as he tries to make his brain his body his anything cooperate- when the bedroom door opens. He huffs slightly, furrowing his brows, trying to make his arms cooperate and come down, trying to make his mouth cooperate and ask the question he wants to, but nothing wants to work today. He huffs again and raises an eyebrow. In response, he gets a raised eyebrow, which doesn’t answer anything. He’s pretty sure the frustrated noise being made is him. He thinks. It’s not a very George noise.
He doesn’t get an answer, though. Instead, George shrugs his jacket off, draping it neatly over the side of an opened dresser drawer. His belt follows, and then shoes, shirt, pants. When he’s down to his underwear and his undershirt, he moves toward Alexander, gently removing his hands from his hair and steering him back toward the bed.
“What’re you doing?” Alex finally manages to ask, pressing his face into George’s neck even as he speaks.
“Lafeyette sent me home.”
It’s not quite an answer, but he lets it slide to ask, “Since when does Lafayette make you do anything?”
As George leads them into a gentle descent onto the bed, shifting and pulling until they’re under the covers and comfortable against one another, he answers answers Alex, “I think it had to do with him wanting to take the day off with Adrienne. Once he put together that I had a headache and would be easily persuaded to come back here, he took advantage of it.”
Alex smiles just for a second before it falters out, “Headache?”
“I took some medicine for it already. I think there’s a fever lurking, too, but the pills should take care of that.”
Alex nods, pressing himself even closer.
“I hope I’m not ruining your plans for the day,” George murmurs into the top of his head, and he can feel the hint of laughter contained within run all the way down his spine.
“No plans for the day, really,” he answers, shrugging gently, “Day Off, remember? Not allowed to have plans.”
“Good. Good boy,” George answers, but he sounds far away, which might have something to do with the way Alex is already starting to drift back to sleep, George’s arms warm around him, grounding him, quieting the insistent buzz of his brain…
