#GENUINELY CANNOT STRESS ENOUGH HOW MUCH I HATE BEING AT WORK TODAY | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

sacredmads · 2 years

Text

my own success, failure, and everything in between with the law of assumption.

i get so many asks every day wondering why i even began practicing the law of assumption in the first place, and every single time i read one, i can't help but think of how far i've come. i want to tell you guys from the very beginning why i even felt the need to want to start manifesting things into my life, because i really do feel it could help some people. even if this doesn't help you in an LOA sense, i do hope it helps you to know that things will always get better, no matter what things look like right now. you deserve nothing but love and light and happiness, and you will get that, no matter what.

(very small TW!)

i have been through a lot in my life. a LOT. i'll spare you guys the nitty gritty details of it all, don't worry. but to put it lightly, when i found the law of assumption, i was desperate for things in my life to start changing for the better. at the time, which was a year ago now, i was surrounded by bad people, in bad situationships, and had also just gotten diagnosed with post traumatic stress disorder due to two extremely ab*sive relationships i was in. i hated my job, i hated how i looked, how i acted, how i talked, the things i was doing, the path i was going down. i longed for so much change.

i saw the law of assumption as my way out. however, my views on the law then are much different than my views on it now. i looked at manifestation as something i had to WORK for. i looked at LOA as a chore. this meant that trying to get my desires became a much more negative than a positive thing for me. i started to hate my life, and myself, even more, because i didn't know what i was doing wrong. every time i'd read a success story, i would feel nothing but envy and jealousy. i wanted to manifest my life being different SO bad that i began to feel as though it was something that i would never accomplish. these thoughts and assumptions buried me even deeper into the pit than i already was, and started a viscous cycle of me hating my life, myself, and starting to form a type of resentment against the law of assumption.

then, towards the end of 2021, the void state blew up on tumblr. i saw the void as my way out - my solution to all of this. (spoiler alert, it wasn't). i tried for MONTHS on end to get into the void. i would spend hours laying in my bed, affirming over and over and over, and getting nothing but angry at myself because yet again, the method wasn't working. more void success stories started coming to tumblr, and every time i'd read one, i'd genuinely feel sick to my stomach. i didn't understand what i wasn't doing right.

towards the beginning of this year i decided to just cut my losses and stop trying to get into the void, and focus on the things i already had, because i thought that was all i had going for me.

i can't remember where it started, but i can say that now, in this very moment, i am the happiest i have ever been.

i have manifested so many things i didn't even dream would be possible for me.

for ONCE in my life, i am so comfortable with my finances. i have financial freedom, and, not to gloat, but MORE than enough money in my bank account.

i have the most AMAZING group of friends... literally shit that feels like it's from a movie. i cannot fathom having any other group around me.

literally manifested an SP that doesn't feel real. fairy tale typa love.

i manifested a job that i love more than words, and not only that, but i manifested getting promoted to manager, and i start training next month.

i've manifested appearance changes as well, and i feel so beautiful in my skin, with AND without makeup, which again.. i didn't think would be possible.

my assumptions about myself, my life, finances, friends, people, relationships, ANYTHING you can think of have all changed for the better. i genuinely feel as though i am limitless and can manifest absolutely anything i desire, and not only that, i feel as though i deserve all of my desires. because i do! a year ago today i was a completely different person than i am now - and i'm so proud to say that i am living a comfortable, happy, and free life.

i know so many people on tumblr and on all platforms that hold an LOA community struggle with so many of the same things i struggled with, and i can promise you that if you truly just focus on what you already know and APPLY, nothing is impossible and nothing will stop you. i have been where you are - i have believed the law of assumption was bullshit at points. but now, i cannot imagine where i'd be if i hadn't started practicing the law. are there things i still want to manifest? absolutely! do i still have small struggles, or bad days? absolutely! the thing is though, i know now that none of that matters. what matters is the things i want - and that's it! there is nothing in this entire world that will stop my desires from coming to me.

when i finally realized that the only person who can stop my desires is ME, is when things finally started changing for the better. i am the only one who will ruin my success and also the only one who can give myself success. i'm choosing to give myself success.

you will get your success, too. you deserve to feel good, and love your life. you deserve to not have stresses or worries. you deserve nothing but all that life has to offer, and i believe you can give that to yourself.

please stop sabotaging your own desires, and stay focused on what you want. you WILL get it. you already have it! do you feel it? do you feel the life you're living right now, with all of your desires? that feeling is what's real. that feeling is what you're experiencing, right now.

#law of assuming #law of assumption #affirmations #self concept #neville goddard #law of attraction #manifestation #manifesting

2K notes · View notes

amorremanet · 2 years

Text

WIP Wednesday: “but fools will be fools”

What time is it? ……Time to shove more WIP fic at tumblr.

Today we’ve got modern cultivation AU Wangxian, and they……sure are.

Upfront, this fic’s title comes from a lyric in the classic Harold Arlen song, popularized by the exquisite Judy Garland in her version of A Star Is Born (1954), “The Man That Got Away” (see also: her performance @ Carnegie Hall, Ella Fitzgerald, Jim Bailey in Judy Garland drag on The Ed Sullivan Show, Rufus Wainwright at Carnegie Hall, Rufus Wainwright @ The Hearn (June 2016), Rufus Wainwright @ Capitol Studios, Andrew Rannells @ Broadway Backwards 2014, and—THE MOST ESSENTIAL LISTENING, if you listen to no other version of the song, listen to THIS ONE—Billy Porter performing the song as Pray Tell on Pose).

So, yeah, that’s about where Wangxian are, right now.

Specifically, that’s where Lan Wangji is about everything. They certainly did have an epic falling-out about ten years before this fic takes place—which LWJ alludes to while he’s mostly being In His Feelings—and since then, Wangji has spectacularly Not Moved On Even A Little Bit.

Wei Wuxian hasn’t moved on, either; he’s just been more openly dysfunctional in the process, in ways that have recently landed him in rehab. But he’s trying! And when they reunite (in ways that were absolutely *NOT!!* orchestrated by Nie Huaisang, he has no idea what you’re talking about* 😇), Wei Wuxian feels much more “Here You Come Again” (Dolly Parton) and “Do I Wanna Know?” (Arctic Monkeys) about it all.

*: Nie Huaisang knows exactly what you’re talking about, and his motives are about 5% “wanting his brother-in-law [Xichen] to be less stressed, which makes Da-ge less stressed,” 10% “wanting Lan Wangji to be less………Like This, because it stresses out Da-ge, Er-ge, and San-ge when he is Like This,” 10% “wanting something nice to happen for Wei Wuxian because he’s one of the few people Nie Huaisang can genuinely call a friend and he’s really Been Through It lately,” and 75% “oh, I can’t wait to see how this turns out~”

Last Wangji heard, his fated person yet endures, still alive, though not for lack of trying on his own part. Unfortunately, he commands attention, and even studiously avoiding cultivation society prattle hasn’t let Wangji escape any awareness of his fated person’s copious lost weekends, blackouts that ended with him in San Francisco or Hong Kong or Amsterdam, and two near-death brushes with alcohol poisoning.

Or was it three? Four? Oh, who even knows.

Per Xichen’s latest attempt at engaging his younger brother in gossip—in that process violating another of the many rules that comprise their family’s spiritual practice—Wei Ying has lately tried to help himself, for once, this past summer. Or perhaps his family finally forced him into it. Either way, Xichen seemed hopeful about Wei Ying’s future and Wangji cannot, for the life of him, imagine why. Probably a bunch of talk, whatever he heard about Wei Ying checking into rehab, neither more nor less. These days, the old cultivation clans produce more empty words than anything else.

Same as last night’s boy, incidentally. Slouched against the threshold, he says something about not really being the best hand in a kitchen. (Unfortunate for him, though if past patterns hold true for Wei Ying, his cooking likely remains atrocious enough to make this boy seem gifted—a thought Wangji keeps to himself. Hardly polite to discuss another boy while the one from last night wears out what little remains of his welcome.)

Apparently less than satisfied with Wangji refusing whatever conversational bait he meant to lay, the boy tries implying that he wouldn’t mind a hand, or at least a guide about what goes where, since he’d hate to mess things up. (Hardly worth the bare minimum acknowledgment, because Wangji has no time for offering him a guided tour. A kitchen is a kitchen, scarcely complicated, and Wangji has work to do. The tune he plucks out on his guqin has haunted him since adolescence, sad, and sweet, and longing, and perpetually unfinished. Failing to put it together by midnight will mean failing to satisfy another of this calendar year’s goals. In turn, this will mean that, come Friday, when he sits down with Hayden, his therapist, Wangji must discuss everything he could not accomplish in the past twelve months. So help him, that is one of the last things Wangji wants.…

If pressed, he’d call it a tie between “once more hitting the wall with this piece he can’t give up, despite all obvious evidence that he should” and “Wei Ying darkening his doorstep ever again.”

But as he ignores his increasingly unwanted guest in favor of the strings, Wangji’s fingers feel heavy and stupid, not graceful and skilled from a lifetime of practice. Thick and slow, like he’s shot his hands up full of Novocaine.… It’s hopeless—but honestly, what did he expect? Wangji’s muse for this piece died from exposure to a vapid, desperate frown and an infuriatingly beautiful voice insisting “But I—I’m straight, Lan Zhan! I like girls.”)

#mdzs #mdzs fic #wangxian #wangxian fanfic #wip wednesday #my fic #mdzs fanfic #lan wangji #lan wangji's many blatant emotional health issues #lan wangji being Bad At Feelings and utterly failing to take care of himself for 10+ years #the real villain here is compulsory heterosexuality & lan wangji bullshitting his therapist #mine: fic #mine: mdzs #lwj x wwx

4 notes · View notes

mercy-misrule · 2 years

Text

absolutely crazy moments with me today

brief child abuse/neglect mention, you know, my usual stuff

i had a moment where my sister talked over me on the phone, and she's done it a lot lately so i just told her that it had happened, and honestly its been frustrating me for a while

she was super chill, apologised, thanked me for calling her on it

and because im so fucking hypersensitive to literally any sort of conflict (which this absolutely wasn't, but apparently id geared myself up to believe it was) i started getting teary, stopped being able to put words together, huge emotional explosion

over genuinely nothing

i cannot stress to you how much i hate it

and then, because that basically primed me for a disaster, when i saw a diagram on my dash talking about the hierarchy of food

it was like my brain started rolling the highlights of my childhood (derogatory)

because the base of the pyamid is 'enough food' and i just did not have that as a child, as a fucking teenager, until i was 18 goddamn years old and out of my mother's house.

and its like hey wanna remember all the times no one fucking cared about you? here we go!

and now i haven't slept and its 7.14am!

at the very least, pin pointing the triggers means i can work on getting my emotions back into workable.

im just frustrated with myself. i understand what happened, it's ok, but fuck its exhausting and boring to have cptsd, big problem disorder and bipolar. i hate this garbage combo.

#abuse survival #trauma survival #mental illness stuff #big problem disorder my eternal enemy #cptsd the bane of my fuckin life #bipolar: you're here too #honestly bipolar is the easiest to deal with because im medicated for it #welcome new followers i have exceedingly bad brains

4 notes · View notes

formyzoe · 1 year

Text

to my soulmate ღ,

i never thought i would be so lucky to have someone like you as my best friend. someone who's patient, understanding, who never judges me, who understands me. i can't stress enough how much of an incredible friend you are to me, and i'll never stop telling you it. there is nobody else in this world who i'd make love letters for, who i'd tell all of my secrets to, who i could go to with anything and know i'd never be judged.

i know in the past people have told you bad (and wrong) things about the type of friend you are, and i can only tell you how wrong they are. you are not judgemental, you're protective. and i absolutely adore it. it makes me feel safe knowing i have someone who will protect me from anything, stand up for me when nobody else will, and tell me when somebody is doing me wrongly and help me realise it.

and i hate myself everyday for the fact that i didn't realise it sooner. something i regret everyday is the fall out we had, but i do think it's made us stronger today. to know now we won't let something stupid separate us, we will only support each other no matter what. i will always regret the things i have said to you in the past, and unfortunately i can't take those back but i hope you know today that i never meant any of them. i'll never ever ever take this friendship for granted, and i will never lose you again. i genuinely cannot imagine my life without you, if we hadn't sorted things between us i doubt i'd be here today. you are the one thing that keeps me going and gets me through the days.

it makes me angry that there are people in the past, and present, who don't or haven't appreciated you. those cunts never deserved you, and if i ever see any of them whilst i'm up i hope you know it's on sight. *fists*. i hate them all so much with so much passion, they never deserved to even have you around them.

i'd like to also just say that you are so sexy it's unreal. you are absolutely beautiful, and i can't deal with the fact that you don't always see it. if you could see the way i look at you, it's how jimin looks at jungkook. it's not only your looks, though. your personality tops it all. your quick wit, your sarcasm and sense of humour i adore. how passionate you are about things you love, how creative you are, the way you listen to music all of the time. i love the little things like your handwriting, how you are with your pets, how you are with piper etc. (damn i really sound like i'm in love with you, well its true i am).

i believe more than anything you are my soulmate. my literal other half. because i have never loved a person the way i love you it's just different. i could talk about it for hours. kinda spooky i'm writing this three days before you're here but right now you're reading this beside me eek. but anyway.

i wish i could be rich and buy you everything you ever wanted and live forever with you in a big mansion. like all the most expensive bracelets and necklaces and heels and rings and dresses and cars and just get married and live together happily. that's the dream, and i hope in the next couple of years we can live together, too. i know we will.

i can't express how excited i am that you're going to be here, and for longer too! and then also us getting the train back up, then the bus to your house again. i can't. i'm so excited. i wish i didn't have work but at least when it gets stressful i can just think that you'll be here soon and then i'll be fine.

if you'd have told me a couple years ago we'd be seeing each other every month from now on i would have said you were crazy. the future looks bright because i picture it with you. living together, going for breakfast and you being there when we both get home from work. i like to think of it happening here, but it's all down to whether you'd be willing to move this far. we can visit your family often and stay there when we have breaks from work. ordering in food and having movie nights in our living room, or if we have a cute garden in the summer we can go out there and have picnics.

normally i hate summer, but now i can't wait knowing i'll be with you a lot. reading on the grass whilst sunbathing, picnics and days at the beach. normally, when i was close with daisy i'd avoid doing all these things or even going out in summer because i'm seriously insecure in summer clothes. but i can see myself being so comfortable in cute summer dresses i have always wanted to wear. and swimming in the sea!! i love the sea, i wish i lived closer to the beach because i love it so much, and i just can't wait to spend summer with you.

okay now i need to talk about your wedding day. i swear i will do my best to make it your dream day and make it perfect. i will (try) to remain calm, but i'm not making any promises. i may freak out but i swear i will do my best. and to your future husband, you can show him this for who ever he may be in the future, that if he doesn't cry when you walk down the isle i will personally have such a bone to pick with him and as maid of honour i will not hesitate to restart the day so he can try again. if it's jungkook i doubt he'll have any problem crying because i can see that man being a mess. if it's joshua, i'm going to show you a specific photo that you need to recreate in order for me to be happy. and they also need to know i'm not happy about this and i wish it was me marrying you but i think i'll get over it. as long as i have jimin i'll be able to overcome the sadness, anyone else i can't see it happening so.

i'd also like to say that i am so fucking proud of you. i have seen you grow from a girl with no self confidence and constantly thinking and talking badly about herself, not seeing her own beauty, into a confident, strong woman with confidence and sexiness and i just love that. it makes me so happy to see how much you've grown and i am just so proud of you.

i'm proud of you for sticking through college for as long as you did, staying in a place you weren't happy. i'm proud of you for cutting off that group of friends that were awful to you. i'm proud of you for sticking up for yourself. i'm proud of you for making it through each day. i'm proud of you for speaking up when you disagree with something. i am just so so so so proud of you.

(writing this on the train home) i miss you already it's ridiculous, which is how i know that we are soulmates because if we weren't, we wouldn't feel like this after ten literal minutes. you are my other half, it's like i don't feel like myself anymore when you aren't here, and even though it feels shitty now, it is amazing because in a couple weeks you'll be back. we can get all dressed up and go for a nice meal and the cinema for v day. then doing our hair too! so so excited, i cannot wait.

i'm literally so in love with you and our friendship. i could go on about it for hours. i cherish you and us so much, i genuinely will do everything in my power over the years to make sure it will always stay this way. i will never EVER let anyone, or anything come in between our friendship. i don't care who it is, i will not allow it to happen.

i love you, so fucking much, and thank you for being my best friend,

from jodi (your wife) ღ

0 notes

islesnucks · 3 years

Text

DON'T MOVE ON - QUINN HUGHES X READER

here is the hughesy angst i promised, i cannot believe i wrote it that quickly

likes and reblogs are always appreciated, hope you like it!

Word count: 2.5 k

Warnings: just a bunch of angst and then fluff

Summary: a month after a huge fight that ended your relationship you find out from Brock that Quinn hasn’t been able to move on too

Masterlist

Add yourself to the taglist!

Today marked a full month since the fight that ended it all. You’d like to say you couldn't remember how it happened, how things got so out of proportion you ended up breaking up, but you did. You still remembered every painful detail.

It had been a long day, those that just drain you physically and emotionally to the point you want to get home and sleep so it's finally over. But you didn’t do that because the canucks were playing that night and you thought maybe watching the game at your boyfriend’s apartment and waiting for him to get back after it ended would make you feel better. You were wrong.

The canucks lost that night, it wasn’t a huge loss, just by one goal, a power play goal made by the other team after Quinn had taken a penalty. He obviously put the blame on himself and when he got home things got worse.

With both of you in bad moods things were meant to get nasty, but you never thought it would have reached the point it did. It started as a small fight but quickly things escalated. You knew you didn’t mean the things you were saying, but you weren’t thinking clearly. Suddenly all the little stuff that bothered you about each other started to accumulate and when he said you didn’t support him enough that was the last straw.

How could he say that when you were standing right in front of him in his apartment after having watched his game and waited for him? Even when all you wanted was to go to sleep and forget that day had even happened.

“I can’t believe you just said that. Seriously Quinn I do so much for you and this is how you pay me?”

“Then maybe if I’m such a bad boyfriend we should break up.” He knew that’s not what he wanted, but anger took over and he wanted to hurt you as much as you had hurt him seconds ago.

“Maybe we should.” you quickly replied and the room went silent. You looked at him, internally begging him to say he didn’t mean it, but nothing happened. The silence was deafening.

“Ok then. It’s over.” you finally said, already gathering your purse and leaving his apartment. Not having enough strength to give him a final look as you shut the door behind you and rushed out of the building.

You didn’t cry as you walked to your car or in the drive home, it was like you were on automatic mode, you just drove to your place in silence without a thought in your head.

But once you were inside your apartment it all dawned on you. Your vision got blurry and you let out a suffocated breath. Your legs stumbled and you fell down on the floor with your back against the wall, unable to take in everything that had happened. It was over.

That happened a month ago. You hadn’t talked to Quinn ever since that night. It had been the hardest month of your life. You didn’t realize he was such a huge part of your life till he wasn’t there at night to hold you as you sleep, making you a cup of tea while you studied, pointing at you in the crowd after a goal, rushing out of the lockers straight to your arms after a game, stroking your hair as you lied on his chest to help you relax after a stressful day. He wasn’t there anymore and you missed him with every bone in your body; but he never reached and you were too afraid to see him only to discover he was doing completely fine without you.

Focusing on your studies and work made it easier, you discovered if you had your head occupied the whole day you didn’t think of him. But nights were the hardest, lying alone in your bed with only your thoughts would make your mind go back to that dreadful night and you’d end up crying yourself to sleep. That empty feeling would turn from sadness to anger and vice versa, but no matter how hard you tried to get over him you couldn’t.

That’s why after weeks of pure silence it surprised you when you received a call from Brock. You debated on whether to answer or not, but figured if he called after all this time it was important.

“Hello?”

“Hey Y/N” he answered. “How are you?” You could tell he was hesitant.

“I’m … good I guess.” you replied followed by a long silence. “Why are you calling Brock?” you finally asked, wanting the exchange to be over.

Brock didn’t know how to phrase it, he knew why he was calling and what needed to be said, but he simply didn’t know how to say it without you immediately ending the call after hearing his name.

“It’s about Quinn- please don’t hang up!” he was quick to add.

“What about Quinn?” you asked. It felt weird to talk about him out loud, something you hadn’t even done with your friends.

“He 's bad Y/N. Really bad. He won’t come out of his apartment, only for practices and games, and then he rushes back home and we don’t see him again. We’re really worried about him, all the team and his friends, even his family. He hasn’t been calling them like he used to and Jack had to basically convince their mom not to take the first plane here to check up on him. Even Brady hasn’t been able to get to him. Plus he’s been shit on the ice lately, taking stupid penalties and getting into fights, he’s one bad game away from getting benched.”

“I get it Brock but I don’t know what you want me to do. It’s not my job to fix him.” you told him. The thought of Quinn suffering alone in his apartment broke your heart but after all he was the one who decided to end things and never reached you after it. You knew it was your pride talking, but he had put himself in this position.

“I know, I know. I’m not asking you to forgive him for whatever it is he did. Honestly we’re kind of out of the loop here because he won’t tell us what happened between you two. But please I’m begging you, talk to him. You don’t have to get back together, but I think he needs some type of closure or something. He can’t keep doing like this Y/N.”

You could tell by his voice he was genuinely worried, and you were sure this is something he had talked about with the rest of the team and friends. You hated to admit it but Quinn still had a place in your heart and right now it ached at the thought of him drifting away from his family and friends and even failing at the job of his dreams when maybe a simple talk could help him. So you decided to push your grudge aside, but not completely.

“I have a box with his things, tell him I’ll go by his place to return them and then we can talk.” you said, thinking that the box of his belongings you had packed some days ago and sited by the door waiting for the moment you were strong enough to give them back to him would be a good enough excuse. That was not the answer Brock expected but he knew it was the best he would get.

“Thank you Y/N. I know this isn’t easy for you, but thank you so much.” You hanged up.

You stood on the hallway in front of his door after knocking, waiting for him to answer. You kept repeating to yourself everything would be fine, that seeing him again after a month wouldn't be as hard as you thought, but the moment the door opened and your eyes connected with his, your heart stopped.

He looked like shit. Tired eyes, heavy dark circles around them, messy hair and you’d bet he had been wearing that old shirt and sweatpants for at least three days. You were also surprised to see that he was shocked you were standing on his doorway.

“Y/N?”

“I told Brock I’d stop by today.” you explained.

“You spoke with Brock?” he asked and then you understood his friend hadn’t informed him of everything.

“Yeah he called me yesterday to talk about … well about you.” you said, unsure if telling him you talked about him was the right thing to do. He nodded, still a bit confused but didn’t say anything. “Can I …” you said, gesturing to the inside of the apartment.

“Oh yeah sure.” He moved to the side to let you in. “Sorry about the mess.”

You walked into the all too familiar apartment where you had spent many days and nights, but now it didn’t feel like home anymore. The curtains were almost shut completely allowing little to no natural light at all inside, there were some clothes on the sofa and dirty dishes piling up in the sink.

“So I’m guessing Brock forgot to tell you I’d stop by to drop this.” you said putting down the box on his coffee table.

“He probably did it on purpose. If I knew he was going to call you I’d have stopped him.” he simply said, like it wouldn’t be a dagger to your heart to hear he didn’t want to see you. Maybe after all he wasn’t doing so bad, or maybe it wasn’t because of you.

“If you didn’t want to see me I can go-” You started to turn around, ready to once again leave his apartment brokenhearted like many days ago, but his hand on your wrist stopped you.

“No! It’s not that I don’t want to, it's just that … it’s hard.”

“Hard?”

“Yeah Y/N, hard. I haven’t seen you for like a month. After that fight you just left and I never saw you again.”

“Well you never reached out Quinn.”

“You didn’t either.”

“Yeah but you were the one that decided to break up. You want me to process my boyfriend breaking up with me and then also call to check up on him?”

His hand was still on your arm, making you stand close to each other, so close that you could tell how his posture changed after hearing what you had said.

“I’m sorry about that, about the break up and about every other stupid thing I said that night. You were the best girlfriend I could have asked for.” he said looking into your eyes. You could tell he was being sincere and that softened something inside of you.

“I also said some stupid stuff I didn’t mean. We were too caught up fighting to actually think what we were saying.”

“I’m sorry.” he almost whispered before letting go of your arm and quickly wrapping his arms around your body.

You were surprised at first but didn’t hesitate to hug him back. By the way you were hugging, with his head low into your neck and your arms around his frame, it looked more like you were consoling him, and in a way that’s what was happening. At one point you noticed he was crying, you couldn’t see him but you felt the warm tears against your skin and the way his chest shook between your arms as he tried to hold it in but failed.

“If I could take it all back I would, I really would.” he mumbled against your neck in between sobs. You started crying too, unable to keep on pretending you were fine anymore, unable to keep on pretending you didn’t care.

“I miss you so much Y/N.”

“You do?” you asked, genuinely surprised to hear him say it.

“Are you kidding me?” He pulled away from you to look you in the face, but your arms stayed on each other. “Look at me, look at my apartment. I’m a mess without you. I miss you every second of the day, there isn’t a moment when I’m not thinking about you Y/N. I mean I’m doing so horribly I’ve got everyone worrying about me: my friends, my family, my team.”

“You never called so I thought you had moved on.”

“I didn’t. I can’t move on from you and even if I could I don’t think I want to”

You looked at the mess of a man standing in front of you, crying in your arms, telling you he regretted everything, he missed you. It was clear to see he had suffered as much as you had for the past month. There was no doubt in your mind you still loved him, you tried to push it away but there it was, strong as ever, beating deep in your heart. So you decided to go for it, let yourself be weak one more time and if it didn’t work out then that’s something you’d have to deal with later; but if it did you knew it would be extraordinary.

“Then don’t.” you said and he looked down at you with furrowed brows. “Don’t move on.”

“Is that what I think it is?” he asked, eyes getting bright with hope at the thought maybe it wasn’t all lost.

“I’m willing to try again if you are. I still love-” you started to say but he cut you off mid sentence moving his hands to your face and your words died in his lips.

It felt familiar, like coming back home after a long trip. Both your eyes were closed, enjoying the kiss, savoring every second of it. Tears started rolling down your faces and you could taste them on each other's lips. Tears of joy because neither of you could believe this was actually happening.

“I love you.” he said once you pulled away to breathe, foreheads touching and lips millimeters away. “I love you, I love you, I love you!” he kept on repeating with the brightest smile on his face. You giggled before connecting your lips once again for another kiss, something you could never get tired of.

This time his hands moved to your sides, lifting you up in his arms as you wrapped your legs around him and let out a surprised squeal between the kisses. He walked over to the couch, threw away the clothes that were there with one hand holding you close to him with the other, to then swiftly lay on it with you on top of him.

“I’m never letting you go again.” he said, placing a kiss on the top of your head as you nestled yourself between his arms with your head on his chest.

“That’s fine by me.” you replied, earning a sweet laugh from him.

tagging those who asked or seemed interested:

@lovingbrock @mellany1997 @timothyjimothy74 @itoldmycatsaboutyou @stlbluesbrat @dermybaby

#quinn hughes #quinn hughes imagine #quinn hughes x reader #quinn hughes imagines #quinn hughes fic #nhl #nhl imagine #nhl fic #nhl fanfic #hockey #hockey fic #hockey imagine #hockey fanfiction #hockey imagines #canucks #canucks imagine #Canucks fic #vancuver canucks #vancuver canucks imagine

422 notes · View notes

professional-benaddict · 3 years

Text

Opposites Attract - part ll

CEO Tony, Mafia boss Peter, Mafia Beck, Mafia Steve, Mafia Bucky, Pepper is good as always, blackmailing, threats, guns

part l

Tag list: @lilcoffeecup @carelessannie @starkeristheendgame @yasha1215 @the-mad-starker @bluestarker @snowstark @sinditia @just-a-good-name @just-things-things @callmebill @skystar87 @justslightlycrazy @sarcastich @sydneyshipsstuff @lokitonypeter @thequeenoffish

“You’re not the party type.”

“Sorry?”

“You’re not the party type. It’s not like you to throw a party all of a sudden.”

“I felt like it.” I was blackmailed, Tony thought to himself, swallowing thickly.

The man was wearing the tuxedo as instructed, but he had not had the time nor the mental capacity to prepare an excuse if anyone questioned his behaviour or well being tonight. He was nothing but adrenalin and fear, and trembling like a leaf in the wind. Or so he felt.

“Is everyone here?”

“Most are here, I think. I’ll check.” Pepper said, unlocking her iPad. Her perfectly manicured fingers danced over the screen. “The Simmersons are here, Hart, Dickens and his plus one. All of our people, and then- Hm… The Stephens brothers did not show. Nor did Samantha and her wife.”

The hall was buzzing. Usually, Tony hated parties, and especially his own. He would much rather have more intimate meetings with a handful of people than mingle meaninglessly with a hundred people, pretending to care about their lives only to never see them again. This sort of setting did not match his idea of a productive meeting between people. It challenged his own perception of himself as a trustworthy and honest man who people came to for help.

Then again, he had good reason to hate this party. He was blackmailed to host it, and no one else knew.

The letter had stated that they, whoever they were, would come and find him. Tony knew the Mr Beck he had met was involved in this, he was sure of it. But, the letter was not signed, nor did it have a return address. There was no connection between Mr Beck and the threatening letter that Tony could bring to the police for aid. The men in blue would dismiss it without a care. CEO received a threatening letter, and so what? The sun shines and water is wet.

“Any other hiccups so far?” Tony asked, his gaze fixed on the well-dressed crowd in front of him.

“Catering is on schedule, and there is enough drinks. Security has not mentioned anything so far, but… Kathy came to me earlier-“

“Kathy?”

“She’s in charge of the waiters tonight. She said that one of her waiters got sick, but she got a friend of hers to fill in. I don’t remember the name, but she said it’s a guy. He has experience as a waiter, so I think we will be all right. And then…”

Pepper’s voice faded from Tony’s mind. It sounded like she was going far, far away, until he could not hear her at all. In the crowd, Tony zoned in on one man in line outside. That beard, the bright and clear eyes… Mr Beck.

“… We’ll be about 150 all together, and- hey, Tony?”

Tony shoved his way through the crowd as politely as he could, apologising and shooting forced smiles at his guests. He made it just in time before the security guard was going to let Mr Beck in. From experience, Tony knows that invitation checks are rare, and not exactly bulletproof when it comes to stopping uninvited guests at private events. But, this he was sure of. He had not invited Mr Beck, since he had no address to send it to. Tony had hosted his party, as was demanded in the letter, but there was no demand about letting certain people into his party.

Tony felt clever, brilliant even, as he put up his hand to stop Mr Beck from entering.

“Mr Stark-“ The security guard said, a little startled and confused. Mr Beck looked the same.

“I’m here for the party.” Mr Beck said, a half grin tugging on his lips. Tony wanted nothing more than to punch him.

“Check his invitation, Gary.” Tony said to the guard, his eyes fixed on Mr Beck.

“Your invitation, sir.” Gary requested politely. Tony wanted to grin at the look on Mr Beck’s face. Say it, say it.

“I don’t have one.”

“Then, I’m afraid I cannot let you in. This is Mr Stark’s private event.” Gary informed, gesturing for Beck to step aside so that he could let in other guests.

Tony definitely noticed the foul look Mr Beck gave him when he stepped out of the line and headed down the stress. Nothing made him happier.

“Is everything all right, Mr Stark?” Gary asked.

“Everything is fabulous, Gary! It’s a party!”

Tony felt like he was walking on clouds as he returned to his party crowd. He had successfully turned Beck away without causing a fuss, and fulfilling the demands in the letter. He was spotless, no one could pin him down for anything. This time, Tony’s smiles and chatter with his guests was genuine. Perhaps he could grow to like parties, even if they are his own. He is quite the brilliant host.

“Champagne?”

Perfect timing.

“Yes, thank you.” Tony replied, taking a glass for the tray. He did a double take on the waiter before sipping the bubbly drink. “I don’t remember seeing you here before. Do you happen to be the one filling in today?”

“Yes.” The waiter answered. “I’m filling in for Susan.”

“Kathy mentioned it.”

“You’re Mr Stark.”

“Now this is unfair.” Tony groaned playfully. The champagne was going directly to his brain along with the high of his clever trick with Beck. Besides, the waiter was pretty. “You know my name, but I don’t know yours.”

The waiter smiled, and Tony was drawn to his lips which were stretching over his teeth.

“It’s Peter.”

“Peter, and where have you worked before? Kathy said-“

Something hard hitting Tony’s back made him pause in his flirting with the waiter. At a party, it is inevitable for people to bump into each other, feet clashing and elbows flying. But, Tony wished this was an elbow instead.

Without looking behind him, Tony was painfully aware of the man stood behind him. And he was pointing a gun into Tony’s back. The glee and happiness evaporated in an instant, and that icy cold fear came rushing back into Tony’s limbs, leaving him paralysed.

“Quite the stunt you pulled off there, sending Beck away. You thought you were clever, huh? Mr Stark?” The waiter cooed mockingly. Tony did not know what to do, only gape like a stupid looking fish thrown onto land.

“How did you get in here?” Tony asked, trying his hardest to keep his tone steady.

Two ladies came over to Peter for two glasses of champagne, so he only replied once they were out of earshot.

“I came in to fill for Susan, I told you.” Peter answered, acting coy. He was enjoying this far too much, Tony thought.

“And this one?” Tony asked, flickering his gaze to gesture at the man behind him. Another one appeared at his other side as well.

“Oh, Dick and Harold Stephens were kind enough to give their invitations to Stevie and Bucky. I promise you, they are having a fun evening at home.”

Tony did not trust that in the slightest.

“What did you do to them? And Susan?”

Peter did not answer, only smiled again like before. However, this time it made Tony’s stomach turn.

“Shall we go somewhere and talk, Mr Stark? It’s too crowded down here.”

#my prompts #my fics #mafia!peter #starker #tony stark x peter parker #tony stark/peter parker #peter parker x tony stark #peter parker #tony stark #steve rogers #james bucky barnes #quentin beck

73 notes · View notes

yyxgin · 3 years

Text

🌃 𝐒𝐖𝐄𝐄𝐓 𝐍𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 || 𝐡𝐚𝐧 𝐣𝐢𝐬𝐮𝐧𝐠

☆ han jisung x fem! reader ☆

☆ GENRE: college au, best friends to lovers au, fluff

☆ SUMMARY: There’s only one thing that can help your stressed out mind when you have a week left to finish the most important assignment for your art class of them all, and that is the honey voice of your best friend. What a shame he’s too shy to sing sometimes.

☆ WORDS: 5k

☆ WARNINGS: swearing and that is it me thinks

You hear the silent melody coming from your best friend sitting on the other side of the couch, quiet hums gradually flowing into coherent words as he mindlessly scrolls through social media on his phone, his low singing filling your empty living room as you take your eyes off your phone and watch him.

He looks casual, just like always. The army-green hoodie looks about two times his size enveloping his body, the hood thrown over his head to hide his messy hair, sweatpants hiding a little bit of his foot as well as if to make him look extra tiny today. The song coming out of his mouth sounds similar, yet it still sounds new to you when you catch him randomly singing during the day on times when he forgets he doesn't want anyone to hear.

"It cannot wait, I'm yours-" his head snaps up to meet your eyes, immediately shutting up and looking back to his phone screen.

"No, why'd you stop?" you whine, pouting. His voice is good. Too good, for never getting singing lessons and basically not even trying while he sings.

"'Cause it sounds bad," he mutters, furrowing his brows.

"It doesn't." you firmly say, desperate to make your best friend believe your words in order to hear him sing more often. For some reason, his singing always managed to bring a sense of comfort into your heart. It felt like the sunlight shining at you in the cold days of winter, sweet and soothing for your freezing heart.

"Yeah, right," his cheeks flash pink, rolling his eyes.

"You hear me singing all the time and I sound like a dying racoon, I really don't understand why you're so shy about it when you sound like angels coming down to earth to bless us all," you giggle, poking his sides.

He laughs softly at your compliment, shaking his head. This was how it usually went.

He started singing out of the blue, you stopped everything you were doing just to listen to him, then he realised you became too quiet and stopped in the very second.

"I wish you sang more. I like your voice," you point out, watching him flash an even deeper shade of pink as he shyly giggles at your confession.

"Sorry to break it to you, but I won't," he shakes his head in disapproval. It annoyed you, how he just never seemed to believe your words.

"But why? You never believe me when I tell you you sound good," you pout, furrowing your eyebrows and throwing your fists in the air in a sense of frustration.

"And that, my dear, is called not believing in yourself." he giggles, making you roll your eyes.

"I don't get it," you sigh, standing up and moving to the kitchen, "anyways, I am on my way to paint the rest of the assignment I have for my art class, so if you don't want to sing me something, at least put some music on," you yell white putting your empty mug into the sink.

As you walk back to the living room with your art supplies you managed to snatch from the desk where you put them before, you hear the familiar sound of your bluetooth speaker turning on, making you sigh. And that's for your daily dose of Han Jisung's singing. You sit cross-legged at the ground, taking your paint brushes into your hand, hearing the song he decided to put on playing from the speaker. You recognise it being the one he was humming to himself just a few minutes ago, smiling.

"What is the theme anyway?" he asks, genuinely curious.

"Nature," you roll your eyes, not really interested in painting trees the tiniest bit, but having to do it anyway, because you can’t just paint whatever you want and get away with it in your art class.

"So like, trees and stuff?" he teases you, knowing damn well how much you don't like the particular assignment in the first place.

"Trees, mountains, butterflies…" you ironically smile, blobbing a whole lot of green paint onto your palette, grunting, "and I wanted to be chosen for the showcase this year, but I guess we'll have to wait until the theme is not about rocks and rivers." you scoff.

"Oh please, you'll do great anyway," encourages you Jisung, "you can paint well even if it's just trees and mountains."

"I'm not Bob Ross, Jisung." you mutter, hating the way the green paint looks on the canvas in the first place.

"Yes you are," he giggles, "you paint just like him."

"Tells me the one who sounds like Mariah Carey but tries to act like he can't sing," you tease back, enjoying the way his eyebrows furrow at your comment.

"I can't do whistle notes yet," he smirks.

The car rides with Jisung were probably your most favorite. It wasn't for the fact that he doesn't drive too fast like most of your friends do, since as he said, he doesn't trust himself to slow down if he strats, but truth be told, that was also one of the reasons. But the main reason is, that you always get to hear him singing along to the radio, even if it's kind of difficult to hear over the loud music and the original singer. That doesn’t matter, though, because even the tiniest sign of him singing around you made you happy.

He doesn't seem to care as he yells the words to Riptide by Vance Joy on the top of his lungs, sounding like the song belongs to him, parking the car in the almost empty parking lot at Michael's craft store.

"No problem. What even happened, anyway?" he furrows his brows at you, confused on why you suddenly hit him up out of the blue in the evening as you swore on your life you couldn't hang out because you have to finish that disgusting assignment for your art class.

"Thanks." you smile at him as you ubuckle your seat-belt and open the door to his car.

"I fucked up on the painting and now I need to buy some new canvases," you grunt, rolling your eyes, "and green paint. A whole lot of green paint."

He snickers a little as he walks by your side, quickly turning around to lock his car and bringing his attention back to you, "I am sure it wasn't even that bad in the first place and you're just over-reacting."

"Yes it was, Jisung, you didn't see the disaster that painting became. I wanted to paint a bear and it looked like a degenerated pine tree." you blurb out, frustrated, as you take the shopping cart to your hands only for it to be snatched by the hands of your best friend helping you.

"Well, you could always say you wanted to be a little abstract," he grins at you.

"Yeah, sure. Miss Kim would absolutely kill me and I wouldn't get to the showcase this year again. Why am I majoring in art in the first place when I can't even get to the school's art showcase? That prick Minho got in three times already and he said he doesn't even like art in the first place!" you say, gritting your teeth.

"Why is he majoring in art, then?" asks Jisung, confused.

"Because he wanted a degree and he said it was the easiest major to pick," you roll your eyes.

"Well, I mean that is kind of smart, I should have picked that instead of business-"

"Jisung, you can't draw." you laugh.

"And? We were all born to express, not to impress," he waves his arms in the air, grinning. You laugh at his expression, facepalming as you reach for three containers of green paint from the counter and throwing it into the cart.

"If this is not enough of green paint, I swear to god I will kick something-"

"Hey! Peace. Think of the pigeons. Rainbows. Sunshine," he recitates, motioning you to breathe deeply to calm down your nerves, giggling in the process.

"Fuck the pigeons! I tried to paint one yesterday and it turned into a fucking rock in the air!" you throw a fit, making him shush you as a few people turn around to see your distressed state.

"Calm down, woman," he says, putting an arm on your back, gently pushing you to the cashier, "it's just a painting. You'll do great, don't worry. You're just stressing too much."

You grunt as you see another ruined canvas, throwing the brush onto the ground, muttering a quiet swear as you notice the paint on the floor, quickly taking a tissue and wiping it off.

"What's gotten into you? It's okay," sweetly says Jisung, once again sitting at your sofa and watching over you as you try to paint your assignment again.

"It looks bad! Just look at it! I have a week left and I already ruined three canvases, at this rate, I won't be able to even finish it, I can only dream of getting to the showcase," you mourn, throwing yourself to the ground and hiding your face in your hands.

"You just have to take it easy, you're pressuring yourself too much-"

"I've heard that already." you cut him off, growling.

You lay there for a while, breathing heavily, collecting your thoughts. Once you manage to calm down, you sit up and look at your best friend watching over you on the sofa, sighing. "I'm sorry. I'm just stressed out. I didn't mean to snap at you."

"It's okay." he nods, seeing you taking the brush into your hand again and trying to fix the blob of paint that was supposed to look like a squirrel, much reminding you of your dear best friend sitting next to you.

You feel a gentle grip on your hand after a few seconds, taking the brush out of it and putting it to the table. You furrow your brows and look at him, confused on why he is suddenly stopping you from your work, the contact of his skin on yours surprising you a little.

"We're done with painting today." he sternly says, stopping you.

"Ji, I have a week left to-"

"That's a lot of time! Stand up, we're having a karaoke night." he grins at you, pulling you up to your feet, as he takes his phone laying on the sofa into his hands and connects it to the bluetooth speaker.

"I have no time to have a karaoke night Jisung, what even is that-"

"Pick a song. Any song. We're about to sing our hearts out tonight and my mission won't be considered successful until your neighbours come to complain," he grins, giving the phone into your hand with his spotify app open already.

You look at him dead serious for a moment before sighing and looking through his embarrassingly long spotify playlist called ‘bops only’. "Fine," you sigh, "but just this once. And if they call the police on us, you're paying the fine for disturbing the silent hours."

"I didn't say anything about that-"

"Blah blah blah, I can't hear you!" you giggle, putting on I will survive by Gloria Gaynor on full volume to cut him off, throwing the phone back onto the sofa as you prepare for your singing solo.

You sneak your arms around his neck, dancing and laughing in the process as you loudly scream the lyrics into his face. He smiles at the sight, content with the fact that he managed to cheer you up so quickly, putting his arms on your hips as he jumps up and down, joining you in singing once the song hits the chorus.

And just this once, as his arms steadily hold your body and you throw a tantrum in your living room, he doesn't even care that you hear him sing as he knows you like to hear his voice. Maybe, just maybe, that was the reason why he suggested a karaoke night to cheer you up in the first place anyway.

"What do you mean you're not gonna be here on my birthday?" you pout from the ground, focused on the canvas right in front of you.

"Look, I'm sorry, okay? But my mum really needs me to come help her with the atic, and you know how she gets when I refuse to come home at least once a month even though I constantly tell her I don't have the time to travel for 45 minutes just so she can see my face once in a while…" sighs Jisung, laying on your sofa so his head is now facing the same way yours does, and that is, your half-empty canvas.

"I know, I know. But does it really have to be on my birthday? You're going to be away for three days, and the showcase is on Friday…" you mumble, "if I get there, of course." you sigh.

"I'm sorry," he mumbles, sounding genuinely concerned. It was currently Monday and your birthday was on Thursday, which meant you had four days to finish your art piece to submit it on the exact day of your birthday to see if your teacher accepts it for the showcase of the following day. And you're not even halfway done with your work! To be exact, you feel like you're gonna fail and to not have your best friend by your side to help you through your stress, you truly feel like you'll go insane.

"I know," you sigh, "it's okay. I guess I'll just… manage, somehow." you scoff.

"You can always celebrate with that friend from your art class, and we'll celebrate together on Saturday, when I come back. What was that kid's name again?" he furrows his brows at you, turning your way to see your focused face.

"You mean Hyunjin? No, thank you. He'd just want me to get drunk and I really don't need that the day before the showcase," you mumble, painting the leaves of the tree carefully, focusing on every single detail. Jisung always adored your talent. Everything you ever drew was a masterpiece in his eyes. He even kept the notes you gave to him in high school once when he was sick and you managed to take notes for him as well when you shared a Chemistry class, sneaking a few doodles on the sides when you got bored of listening to the teacher, "but that will come handy when I don't get in again, so I'll consider it." you roll your eyes.

"You will get in." he reassures you again, finding your eyes.

"I doubt that," you bitterly laugh.

"Ugh, stop that already," he grunts, focusing on the canvas again, feeling relaxed just at watching you do your magic, but you throw the paintbrush on the table again at that exact moment and run your hands through your hair in frustration.

"What?"

"It looks like shit. Again." you exclaim.

His eyes go wide at the sentence, disbelief washing over him. Did you really think that?

"What the fuck? It doesn't! It looks amazing, trust me," he says, reaching his arms to you, taking you by the shoulder from his position on the sofa.

"I am so stressed Jisung, I feel like I'm about to go insane." you whisper, sighing.

You don't have to say more for Jisung to stand up from his position on the sofa only to sit on the ground behind you, sneaking his arms around your middle and bringing you close to him, gently rocking you in your position on the floor. You feel his nose nuzzling into the crook of your neck, breathing in your scent as he quickly pecks your cheek and settles his head back onto your shoulder.

You hear him softly singing into your ear, the words filling your insides with gold as his voice feels like honey, calming you down from the storm happening inside of you like a brim of light.

"And I see colors in a different way, you make what doesn't matter fade to grey, life is good and that's the way it should be," he sings softly, a wide smile appearing on your features with every next word.

His voice calms your nerves as you slowly relax in his hold, your bodies gently rocking to the rhythm of the song as it slowly ends and his voice grows quieter.

He hated singing in front of people.

But to see you smile, he would go as far as overcoming his biggest fears. Because when you need him, he will always be there.

"Jisung, I have no time for this, I already told you I need to finish the assignment-" you mumble as you sit in his car, his smiling face looking at you from the driver's seat.

"I'm leaving tomorrow morning and I can't have you painting for more than an hour today because I feel like you'll break down if you do, so let's go. And you're already in the car, so there's no escape anyway." he explains, waiting for you to buckle in your seatbelt.

You just sigh and look out the window, biting down on your lip. If he keeps distracting you this much, you'll never finish the assignment.

You hear him softly singing along with the radio, careful not to disturb him in fear of making him stop, smiling to yourself as you let him drive you to an unfamiliar place in the middle of the night. You count the lampposts, the habit you grew to have since you were little, before they disappear and you're on a road shadowed by tall trees, the headlights of Jisung's car being the only thing illuminating the road.

You recognise you're going up a hill, looking over at him, seeing him focused on the road.

As you reach the top, Jisung stops the car and gets out, you follow him as he waits for you by the door to the passenger’s side.

As soon as you look around, you're amazed by the sight in front of you. You have a view of the city far, far away in the distance as you see the dell illuminated by the subtle glow of the moon sitting up in the starry sky. You watch the sight with an open mouth, awe washing over you as you just can't keep your eyes off the landscape in front of you.

"Wow," you breathe out.

You feel his hand gripping yours as he leads you to the edge of the hill, sitting at the giant rock there, pulling you down next to him as you watch the nature breathe in front of you. His hand doesn't leave yours as he speaks up after a while.

"You like it?" he asks, quiet enough to not disturb the atmosphere.

"Yeah," you whisper. You see him moving closer to you from the corner of your eye, his head leaning on your shoulder as he enjoys your presence.

"I wanted to show you this before I go, so you have a moment to breathe for a second before you throw yourself into the stress again," he mumbles, gently playing with the fingers of your hand.

"Thank you," you speak, breathing in the chilly air of the forest.

You stay like that for a while, just gazing over the beauty of it all, making you feel like the time stopped for the two of you only as you enjoy the seconds that pass. The full moon watches over the two of you, captivating you as you look at it with a feeling of delight. You hear his gentle voice in your ear again, singing softly and beautifully, sounding magical at the top of the hill, once again filling your ears with melody as your insides tingle.

"Fly me to the moon, let me play among the stars, and let me see what spring is like on a-Jupiter and Mars," he sings, voice tender and sweet, slowing down the tempo of the song on purpose.

"In other words, baby, kiss me," he sings softly, voice fading as his eyes move to your lips, the silence of the hill and the light breeze tickling your skin.

You feel your eyes wandering to his lips, nervously licking yours in the process. You see him hesitantly move closer to you, stopping halfway to see if you pull away, taking his other hand and resting it on your cheek. His breath fans your face as he moves even closer, nudging your nose with his, eyes gazing to yours, your trembling fingers squeezing his hand as if to tell him to go ahead, fluttering your eyelids close.

Once the moment finally comes and his shy lips press to yours, you feel yourself responding immediately, moving with him as the familiar feeling of the sun in your stomach greets you with full force, your other hand going up to rest on his neck.

When he pulls away and rests his forehead against yours, you can't help but smile. His soft giggle fills your ears like music, your lips meeting his in a soft, quick peck in the instance.

"In other words, hold my hand," he continues, softly squeezing your hand resting in his lap, making you look at him, locking your eyes with his as he stares at you, gaze full of stars.

Han Jisung's always been your best friend. But perhaps tonight, you finally understood the fact that life feels sweet as honey anytime he's around you.

In other words, you love him.

You toss and turn in your bed, tears silently falling down your cheeks on a Wednesday night. Jisung's left this morning and you didn't even finish doing your assignment. You had the whole day for it today without anyone bothering you, but turns out, you managed to hate the painting you did anyway.

It just didn't look good in your eyes. It looked gross. Horrible. When you compare yourself to the other people in your class, you feel like your art is worthless. It always somehow managed to look bad. And everybody knew.

You were the only one who wasn’t good enough to get into the annual art showcase in your three years of college.

Did you even improve at all?

You turn around in your bed, seeing your phone light up with a new notification, opening it and wiping your tears away in the process so you can see though your blurry eyes.

'How did the assignment go?' there states, Jisung's name appearing on the message app, your insides automatically calming down a little at the thought of your best friend.

'Don't even ask', you shoot him a reply, sighing deeply to stop the salty tears from falling.

'It's okay, baby' he replies instantly, your heart racing at the nickname appearing on your screen, bitterly laughing at yourself for acting like a schoolgirl when it comes to Jisung. When did your feelings even grow into something more in the first place? It seemed like it was that way from the start. Perhaps you were just too oblivious to notice.

'It's not. Didn't even finish it. Kicked it when I fucked up again and just gave up.' you type, already friends with the feeling of defeat and failure you've been feeling since the evening.

He doesn't respond for a while, making you think he fell asleep with the phone in his hand again, turning around in your bed to put the phone back onto your bedside table to try to fall asleep on your own as well, when a new message lights up your screen.

You see a voice memo appearing in your messages with Jisung, your heart thumping at the image of hearing his voice this late in the evening, quickly pressing the play button and listening to what he had to say.

"Hi, umm- I've never actually done this before, but I know you're probably feeling like shit right now and I need you to know that you are not a failure, because I know you feel like one right now," you giggle a little at the accuracy, his low voice making you feel things you didn’t even know you could feel before, "anyways, I need you to be kind to yourself tonight. And since I know you like it when I sing, here's a little something…" he mumbles into the phone, making your heart race.

"Here goes nothing," he softly laughs, and clears his throat, beginning to sing, "Wise men say only fools rush in, but I can't help falling in love with you," his voice feels soft through the speaker, your eyes welling up with tears again, but this time, they're of appreciation and pure love for the boy laying in his bed 45 minutes away from you, because you know just how nervous he must have felt to sing into his phone just for you.

"Shall I stay? Would it be a sin, if I can't help falling in love with you?" he finishes, his voice fading away, your insides melting. How did you get so lucky?

"And now go to sleep. It's your birthday tomorrow, we don’t want you to feel sad on your special day. Good night, baby." he sounds, the nickname bringing another set of butterflies into your stomach.

You wish you could do as he told you. But at that exact moment, you bring yourself to try again, you make yourself stand up from your bed and move to your living room as you take a new canvas with you, inspiration kicking you with full force, taking tubes of paint and a paintbrush into your hand as you begin to work on your assignment, trying again just one last time.

You stand in front of your painting, watching over it with proud eyes. The chatter of people around you is only a background noise in your ears as you smile brightly at the assignment you finished just the time the clock striked midnight on Wednesday.

"Yaaah y/n, it looks so good," you hear the voice of Lee Minho call next to you, patting your shoulder.

You grin and turn to look at him, gratitude washing over you upon hearing the compliment. "Thanks."

"I wondered when you're finally going to be on a showcase, I don't understand why neither of your previous assignments made it," he mutters, shaking his head, "but this looks great. It's original." he nods.

"Thank you, Minho," you only smile wider, the pride in you growing minute by minute, "yours looks great too, by the way. I like the colors."

"Really? I hate it. I never hated a theme more than this," he huffs, "who the fuck thinks nature is entertaining to paint?"

"I know, right? I had four mental breakdowns over it," you laugh, now that the suffering is finally over and you can breathe freely.

"Did you use reference for this?" he asks suddenly, pointing to the painting hanging on the middle of the wall.

"No, I did it from memory…" you mumble, sighing.

You watch Minho's eyes shifting somewhere behind you, grinning widely at something that caught his eye, prompting you to look that way only to be left in a state of absolute shock.

The talking of the people filling the showcase gradually stops as they see Han Jisung holding a plate of a strawberry cheesecake with a single candle stuck to the middle of it, moving slowly not to make the light flicker die down, the grinning face of Hwang Hyunjin following his steps with a bottle on champagne in his hands doing grimaces at you from afar as a honey voice calls through the room.

"Happy birthday to you, happy birthday to you, happy birthday, dear y/n," he looks at you, eyes big and full of love, as he finally reaches your figure in the middle of the room,

"Happy birthday to you!" he finishes, your soft giggles cutting through the hall as you move to blow out the candle and gaze onto the face of your best friend.

"What are you doing here? I thought you were coming in the evening!" you yell, throwing yourself into his arms. It was only three days, but you already missed him too much.

"I escaped," he laughs, his whole body shaking in the process as you pull away after a second, "I'm joking. I couldn't stay with my mother knowing I'm gonna miss your first ever showcase."

You smile warmly at him, the people around you disappearing in the moment, only his figure standing out to you in the haze as he hesitantly moves over and locks your lips in a quick kiss.

You ignore the howling of Lee Minho coming from your left and the loud 'Finally!!' from the lips of Hwang Hyunjin to your right as Jisung turns to your painting, smiling widely at the sight.

"It looks so real," he mumbles in awe, noticing the way his insides turn into a puddle of sweet joy as he recognises the night view of the dell he showed you on the night of your first kiss, instantly realising the way you must have painted it after he sent you the voice memo to sing you to sleep on the Wednesday night.

"You inspired me," you grin brightly.

"Don't say that." he shyly looks down on his feet.

"But it's true." you prompt.

He smiles lightly, shaking his head before locking your eyes again.

"I just realised I left your gift at home. Look at me, wishing you happy birthday a day later and not even bringing you a gift to make up for it…" he mutters, stepping closer to you and putting an arm around your shoulder in the process.

"That's okay," you say, and you really mean it. You are the happiest you've ever been right now, feeling accomplished and with him by your side. You don’t need any other gift.

"Well, I have one thing in my mind that can count as a gift, though," he smirks.

"And that is?"

"I can finally be your boyfriend. I mean, isn't that the best gift you’ve ever gotten?" he grins, prompting you to elbow him lightly in the ribs as you burst into a fit of laughter.

"You're such a dork, I swear to god…"

"But I am your dork, right?"

You sigh, playfully rolling your eyes. "Yes, Jisung. You are my dork. Only mine."

#districtninewriters #kafenetwork #stayverse #stayracha #kpopscape #stayhavennet #stray kids imagine #stray kids au #stray kids fanfiction #stray kids fluff #stray kids best friends to lovers au #han jisung imagine #han jisung au #han jisung fanfiction #han jisung fluff #han jisung best friends to lovers au

335 notes · View notes

appleteez · 3 years

Text

SUNI DAY!!!!

ok I’m gonna have to be careful to not write like 3k words and make it a small one shot ahgfawhefw

Suni Bean MY Suni Bean 👀💜 (mine and only mine)

Anyway…

I can’t believe that we met at 19, spent our 20s together and now we’re moving onto 21 still together~ We already spent two steps of our lives together and we’re going onto our third, now, this is just the beginning to so many many more steps and chapters together. I just know it.

In our time together, I feel like I’ve got to see you grow so much. From working at the hospital with your second part time job at the radio station. To starting a new semester together. To a New Year together. To seeing you officially getting with your boyfriend. To you getting more serious shift at the hospital. And now you’re even moving and changing places. That’s only a few things that I’ve had the chance to see you experience and be there with you for it~ (somewhat hehe)

But also the opposite. You were here for me as much as I was there for you and I cannot stress this enough, how important that is to me. Talking about balance in a relationship, it’s so perfect and no one could ever give me that the way that you do Suni~ I may sound dramatic, but I did not know that I needed to be heard and recognize as much as you do. You listen to me. You offer me advice. You’re here for me at all time and even if it’s only through text you genuinely make things better. From your long messages to your cute (and personal favorite) voice messages <3

I’m always hard on myself and you’re always there to tell me that you’re proud of me and that I’m enough. You made me realize that wow.. I needed that. Ugh you make me so cheesy. I hate cheesy things but I guess you make it easy~

Also I want to point out how frustrating it is to use basic words to try and make you understand just how much you mean to me. Like I have so much to say and I feel so much but words are so restricting hahaha (about to invent own language to express love to Suni..)

But that makes me come to this. How we both understand how much we mean to one another. How you know that you’ll never be a bother and that you got so comfortable and confident with me. I think you have an idea but just to emphasize on it.. You have NO idea how happy it makes me. *takes sip of tea before writing again*

I want to say, how crazy it is that we’ve known each other for a little over a year and yet I feel like I’ve had you in my life for so much longer. You make the time go by more easily but multiple in importance (does that make sense?) You make everything easier. You’re my little Suni Bean, and I’m so proud to see you grow up the way you do. We said it before like ‘Damn where were you all this time’ but again, how lucky are we to have met each other so early in life. Now I’ll get to be here for your 22, 23, 24, 25 birthday and so so many more. Until we’re both old and wrinkly, still texting each other about the randomest stuff. “Today I fed the cutest birdies Ali, they reminded me of you!” , “Today I went on a walk in the park and saw cute flowers and they reminded me of you Suni bean!!” Because as much as we’re gonna grow up and change together, I feel like those little habits won’t change anytime soon.

So thank you Suni, for making the time go by faster, for making the time feel more important, for making it easy. For making me cry out of pure happiness. For making me laugh and snicker and for making me feel so many different emotions with you. For saying things like “I knew you were not ok, your texting was off..”. For saying things like “I love you, I miss you, eat, drink and breathe~”. For talking to me, for giving me advise, for just listening to me and making me feel way more important than I ever thought I could be. There’s so many things I could thank you for and I could go on forever, but I can make it easy by just saying thank you for being you Suni. For being Suni in my life and giving me the luck to be there for you too.

You being born is quite the miracle my bean. I love you so much, I miss you always, and I’m here for you whenever you need it <3 Thank you for sticking by my lovely bean.

Here’s to you turning a nice 21!!! One more chapter together and to many many more!!!! Let’s grow old and wrinkly together my bean. Let’s be the best combo forever~

HAPPY BIRTHDAY MY SUNI, MY CHANGKYUN, MY BEAN, MY SANNIE, MY ULT BIAS, MY SOULMATE!!!! I love you to moon and back times infinity.

Let’s look at the moon together for a long time. That until we get to spend the day together~

Again, happiest birthday my bean, you have my whole heart but what’s new? :]

-Your Jooheon, Ali bean, Wooyoung, ult bias, and finally soulmate~

#suni bean ❤️❤️❤️#my changkyun❤️#my Sannie 💕#let’s be the best combo forever ✨#My ult bias ✰#changkyun to my jooheon ✨#Happy birthday my person #I love you so much #even if you're getting old #Wait for me #ill be old with you pretty soon hehe :]#love ya my bean #<333

14 notes · View notes

dazenightmare · 3 years

Text

Fucking Perish Together

Sneaky bastard, that is what I am >:)

Sequel to Birds of a Feather. Doesn’t make as much sense without it, but it can probably be read as a standalone.

Anyways, here’s the misadventures of Tubbo.

T.W.: Cursing, cussing, kidnapping, technically getting kidnapped, yelling, shouting, screaming, let me know if I need to add more!

~~~~~~~~~~

Tubbo has been with them for five months.

Things have been getting easier for them since this addition, in more ways than one.

Tubbo, unlike Ranboo, was much more willing to learn Common to talk with them. Eventually, they realize whatever they teach Tubbo, they teach Ranboo too, after Wilbur accidentally walked in on them going over words with each other.

When they both are finally able to make short sentences, there’s pride. However, it is a surprise hearing the different accents the two had. Especially since nobody in their little circle talked the way Ranboo did.

They also learn that Tubbo is unnecessarily strong for someone his size. That’s helped them more than you could imagine, between battling, mining, and moving cargo around.

Tubbo also attaches himself to Tommy, much like how he’s done to Ranboo. For the longest time he switched between hanging out with them, and never liked being without neither for very long. While they account this may be a bit detrimental to Tubbo, it’s helping Ranboo come out of his shell, and Tommy seems genuinely happier with the lil fellow around, so they brush it off for now.

When Tubbo finally stopped spending every waking moment with the two, he gradually started to spend some time alone. Naturally, this worried everyone as Tubbo disappeared for extended periods of time.

Tubbo tired out easily, so what if he got far and was too tired to come back before night? He’s smaller than a lot of mobs, so what if too many swarm him to deal with? His only defense was his box, so what if he got separated from it?

They learn to let these worries go as after a couple weeks Tubbo showed them an EXP farm with a wide smile, then clung to Ranboo and Tommy as if nothing happened.

Of course, just like with every other member of the family they gained, there were downsides too...

——

It was night time, and everybody sat near the pub, currently watching Tommy jokingly hate on Ranboo with smiles. Something about Tubbo, who left to get some more fire wood and should be back any minute now.

At the thought, Niki frowned at the shore, glancing around.

Tubbo should’ve been back now, surely. Wonder what was keeping the Shulk.

Meanwhile, Tubbo hid in a burrow beneath a tree, glaring up at the night sky, staring at the swooping animal. Phantoms, the natural predator for any Shulks living in the overworld. Shulks preferred sleeping in their boxes, since sleeping in beds was too open, plus beds always blew up in the End, leaving old habits to die hard. Phantoms apparently take issue with this.

Okay, Tubbo thought to himself, eyeing the flying bastard. I am fucking freezing, and I won’t be safe until I get to my box or it becomes day. I am not spending my night under this fucking tree.

Then Tubbo turns his gaze to the flickering light far off, where he can just barely make out his friends.

“Waiting, running, waiting, running,” he mumbled to himself, looking back and forth between the predator and his friends.

Silently making his decision, Tubbo grimaces, picking up the sticks he gathered for the campfire. Before he can think it through, he starts sprinting across the clearing, screaming as loud as he could in hopes of going faster.

He can hear the screech of the phantom as it pursues him, and Tubbo’s screams turn a bit more genuine.

Back at the fire, his friends start to question where his is.

“He’s been gone for a while now,” Ranboo noted, holding his friend’s box in concern. “Should we check on him?”

Before anyone can throw in their nickel, Tubbo’s screaming makes it to their ears. They all look over to see the lad halfway across the field, just in time to see a phantom fucking snatch him.

“HOLY SHIT,” someone shouts, as they witness the phantom fly back into the sky, holding their screaming companion in it’s mouth.

“LET ME GO YOU FUCKING SELF-RIGHTEOUS PRICK! I’LL FUCKING STRANGLE YOU YOU GODDAMN MOTHERFUCKING WANKER! GODDAMN BONEY ASS WHORE!” They hear Tubbo shout. Some of them idly wonder how the Hell Tubbo learned such words. Most of them are panicking.

Philza takes off into the air while everyone shouts random things, most of it being overtaken by Tubbo swearing like a sailor. It takes a while before Philza is able to pry Tubbo out of its mouth, kill the phantom, and land with a shaken Tubbo in his hands.

Tubbo says nothing as he reaches for his box and climbs inside with a traumatized look. The box slams closed in Ranboo’s hands. They all stare at the box in silence as it opens a moment later, sticks being hurled out before it’s closed again.

——

“Piss sheep, piss sheep,” Tubbo chanted under his breath, pushing his box into the water before hopping in like it was a boat. “Visiting the piss sheep. Piss sheep, piss sheep.”

He paddled with his hands before getting tired. It was only when Tubbo was in the middle of the lake, without food, that he realized something.

“... I can’t fucking swim,” he stared into the water, bobbing up and down in his box, far away from any land. Tubbo sat there bobbing for half a day in shame before his using his comm.

“Hello?”

“Hey Niki,” Tubbo started, still staring into the water. He looks in the direction of Niki’s lagoon. “So... I can’t swim.”

“Uh... yeah?” Niki warily responded. He heard Wilbur on the other end of the comm, talking, and Niki whispering an “I don’t know”.

“You however, can swim.”

“Yes...?”

“Therefore, I am asking for your assistance.”

“Assistance with what?”

“... I didn’t want to say it, but I forgot I can’t swim. I am currently in my box in the middle of the lake without food, and have been sitting here in self-pity since this morning. Please help me.”

The line immediately went dead, making him frown. It didn’t take much to figure out why as he heard many people shouting from the lagoon. Tubbo merely shrugged and waited. Eventually Niki’s head popped out of the water in concern.

“Are you okay?!”

“Nothing but a broken dignity, thankfully,” Tubbo deadpanned. Niki stressed a bit more before pushing his box towards the lagoon as she swam.

It didn’t take too long before they were in the lagoon, Wilbur and Tommy immediately looking over him once he reached shore.

“How the fuck did you forget you can’t swim?” Tommy asked after they were sure Tubbo was only hungry.

“... I don’t want to talk about it.”

——

“Did you know shulker boxes function like chests?” Philza said as he built. Wilbur tilted his head.

“No.”

“Yeah! I’m pretty sure Shulk boxes work in that way too!”

“Huh...”

Later that day, Wilbur found Tubbo walking around, following Ranboo who held his box.

“Hey Tubbo!”

“Yeah?”

“What do you keep in your box?” Wilbur asked, eyebrows furrowing. He wondered what could possibly be in such a space.

Tubbo lit up before making grabby hands towards his box. Once it was handed to him, he reached inside and pulled out nine stacks of flowers, showing them off to Wilbur proudly. Wilbur stared. This is not what he expected.

Wilbur teared up.

“That is just fucking adorable. You are adorable and I hate you.”

——

Today, an unstoppable force met an immovable object.

Or, in Tubbo’s case, a solid being met a not-so-solid but not-quite-liquid being.

He had just been minding his damn business, picking flowers in a field when suddenly he got fucking stepped on. As if that wasn’t bad enough, it was the new hybrid named Charlie, who was a slime. Now, Tubbo was STUCK in CHARLIE SLIMECICLE’S FOOT.

The worst part? THE FUCKER DIDN’T EVEN NOTICE! JUST KEPT ON WALKING!

Tubbo felt nothing but misery, being submerged in this foot, not being able to move and waiting for someone to notice he was here. They noticed he was gone, but not with them.

He had to sit here, and watch everybody search for him for the entire day, more and more worried. They found Tubbo’s box in the field he was stolen from, and now had it as they met at the lake to discuss it.

They sat there for about an hour discussing it after a whole day of search. The sun was setting, and just as Tubbo lost hope, Jack glanced down and managed to see him.

“HOLY FUCK!” Jack shouted as he flinched. If Tubbo could roll his eyes he would. The next twenty minutes was everyone freaking out as they tried to get him out of the foot.

Eventually Tommy managed to get him out, and after breathing heavily, Tubbo glared at Charlie.

“YOU SLIMY ASS BITCH! I’VE BEEN STUCK IN YOUR GODDAMN FOOT ALL DAY! TODAY WAS FLOWER DAY YOU BLOODY CUNT! YOU’RE LUCKY I CANNOT FUCKING HIT YOU OR YOU’D BE DEAD WHERE YOU STAND! WATCH WHERE YOU’RE WALKING!”

——

“Tubboooooo,” Tommy whined, laying on Tubbo’s box. “I’m sorryyyyyyy...”

“Vwoop.”

“He says ‘fuck off’,” Ranboo translated, watching from nearby. Tommy just groaned more.

“Tubbo... I’m really sorry... please come out...”

“Vwoop.”

“That’s a no.”

“Tubboooooooo...”

#mcyt #tubbo #tubbo_#fic #origins mod smp

36 notes · View notes

rouiyan · 3 years

Text

𝘖𝘝𝘌𝘙𝘊𝘈𝘚𝘛 𝘚𝘒𝘐𝘌𝘚 𝘈𝘕𝘋 𝘛𝘏𝘖𝘚𝘌 𝘞𝘏𝘖 𝘋𝘐𝘌 [ 𝘭.𝘫𝘯 ]

⧏ the second volume of rouiyan’s debut series, till death do us part ⧐

synopsis: “i will keep you,” he says softly, as sweet as black tea, “and i will keep you warm.” (Catherynne M. Valente, Deathless)

✧ prince!lee jeno x crown princess!reader ✧ royalty au

✧ genres : fluff, angst ✧ word count : 5.0k ✧ disclaimers : brief descriptions of nudity (nothing sexual), allusions to sex (nothing explicit), malintent

read volume one here: of the heart.

when the moon, in all her glory, begins to set, Mother Nature begins each new day by inhaling the misfortunes of the day before and blowing out frigid breaths in their stead. this morning is no exception for nothing is so clear as the wisps of fog that lie just beyond the horizon, a velarium of sorts, over the forest canopy. the sun is a little early today, but it is for naught, since its rays are caught between the tendrils of fog right as they begin to show. perhaps Mother Nature woke up in a bit of a fit today, seeing as the skies are already oozing the grays before the blues have yet to surface. Her fingers gently stir the clouds to ensure that they collide right where the earth most needs it and She's joyful in the sense that Her work can be admired from far down below. after all, the paintings She conjures in the skies are nothing short of masterpieces.

like a ceiling folding in with the pressure of water leakage, the clouds from down below give off an air of distress. the air itself is heavily encumbered with a clarity found only after the rainiest of days. and if not for the sake of the story, the author could spend hours droning on about Mother Nature's tour de force, she really would, but instead she will insert a few lines from a symphony:

The autumn mist drifts blue over the lake,

The blades of grass stand covered with frost,

The flowers' sweet scent is gone,

An icy wind bends down their stems,

My heart is weary.

Der Einsame im Herbst (The lonely one in autumn), from Mahler’s Das Lied von der Erde

in the exact opposite sense that Mother Nature loves her leaves, with tender fondness and a forgiving hand, prince jeno's father has never loved his second son more, with an impassioned sneer and a bagful of riches in mind. at least, that is exactly what prince jeno himself thinks as he skims through yet another letter, this time from his father.

son,

never did i think i would enjoy the prospect of a winter ceremony as much as i would this, perhaps you would also like to see an early coronation. i've made the necessary arrangements, i assure that you will not be suspected in the least but keep caution and wariness by your side, our family name is already a great deal tainted. thought not for long, i'll be sending a carriage to retrieve you for your rounds back home, we've ought to get going on them. the damsel is a sight for sore eyes, i presume, i'd hate for her to foil our ambitions; she is much in your hands to attend to now. i'll see you by the throne soon, my lad.

king of the southern mines, your father.

the prince's vision narrows upon the words 'coronation, arrangements, suspected, foil, throne,' and he is already a sight of frustration, fingers gripping the paper with such force that his short nails are digging into his palms through it. seething, he tears his eyes from the script before him but instead, they land on the previous letter sat atop the open escritoire. the one from his mother. the stamped edge of the paper lifts with the wind that filters through the window just above it and he has the sudden urge to let it be carried away wholly. jeno crosses the room in four steps.

with both the pages collected in his hands, jeno crouches by the mantle, the roar of a fire licking up before him. his face is drawn in concentration, jaw stiff and clenched. the lines of his brows are met with a furrow in between, set above the meek lines of his eyelids. his pupils dilate, albeit out of habitual need, in the reflection of the inferno before him. he's ever-so-aware of the distinct scent of burning coals that siphon and sharpen his reminiscence of home. it's sentient, the feelings of familiarity that overcome his senses, halting his movements, his fingers clutching the papers in a way that almost tells of longing. longing of a seemingly different world entirely, one that he has only ever known until a few weeks prior. being washed anew in distant lands and over the course of a single lunation, jeno finds that he's never felt more mismatched from himself, disconnected from the people who raised him in contrast to the people who have brought out the better in him. but the embers are not the only thing he smells, not the only he sees, or heeds to.

the pearly carrara marble of the mantle tells stories in the grayed lines that trail across its posh surface. his eyes rove over the white, the faith and purity of your heraldry binded with the emblem of your family. the white of angels, of untainted relations, sterility in empowerment, the inviolable you. the white tells stories that the black never could.

so jeno finds a warm pleasure in the way the flames overwhelm the papers with eager enthusiasm, the damned words of his parents receding into mere ash. prince jeno thinks he could forever part with the world if it asked him to feast his eyes on this very sight until the end of time.

despite arousing before the sun, you are disappointed when it starts to chase your wakefulness. there is something edging the growing unease in your mind, as if time is trickling down the drain of the past, too fast and too unforgiving. as if time is berating at your senses, telling you there is much more than what meets the eye but for the life of you, you cannot pinpoint what. for now though, you tend to the pressing matters at hand, jeno has been called home for his rounds, rather abruptly.

"perhaps i should go with you, rounds don't always have to be made by one per-”

jeno cuts you off effectively, "they are very much a one person duty," he assures pointedly. your nose scrunches, the light inconveniences starting to rub off on your exasperation. in a tired voice you mumble, "we could always change it up a bit, i'm sure." jeno chuckles heartily at that, his hand coming up from his side to rub out the lines of stress in your forehead.

"little miss princess, you're saying that as if you do not have rounds to complete of your own. i'm almost certain you host are a far greater amount of people that wish to be invited to the ceremony than i have-"

it's your turn to cut him off now, "why don't you stay with me then?" in attempts to enhance the force of your resolve, you uncover a hand of your own from under the sheets to comb through his locks. the way his eyes instantly close to relish in your touch paired with the little purr he gives is almost telltale of your victory. almost.

jeno pauses, his eyes flicker back open, and a soft knowing smile runs along the features of his face as he shakes his head, in knowledge of your artful tactics to wear him down. "and neglect my kingdom and their desires?"

you've left the feelings of frustration behind, instead deciding to fool around with the boy, to see what you can get out of him for good fun, "but we've yet to decide what flowers to use as centerpieces. and whether we're throwing a private or public ball. wedding preparations are surely more important than handing out personal invites…we can cut corners one some niceties." jeno knows better than to let his guard down. the jeno around y/n isn't to be trusted as easily. he settles for words of comfort instead, "i'll write."

"well, that's of course. silly of you to voice something as unequivocal as that."

a pause and his resolve is slipping, "maybe a few short visits back wouldn't hurt." you lick your lips in good-natured fun, another pause, "i'm sure my father wouldn't half mind if we cut it a week short." your eyes look hazy to him, though in reality they are simply amused, and drawing words from him he isn't even sure he's saying. "or- or maybe i could convince him, or try to at least…," he trails on and on.

your satisfied a certain amount and, suppressing a smile from giving away your plotted schemes, you mutter quietly, mostly for your own pondering, "i'm thinking alliums would make a statement, blue alliums." jeno gives a noise of confusion, unsure of how you've suddenly come to talk of flowers. "the centerpieces, i mean." jeno's silence only urges you on, "alliums, or blue alliums at that, are symbols of unity and good fortune. i think that'd make a nice combination with a base of milkweed, dignity and freedom, if my memory serves me right."

the prince has found his voice, "what of the rounds?" but he's met with a small chortle, "nothing, a month is a month, i'm sure we'll work around it."

"but, i- i'm not sure i understand. you were adamant enough a millisecond ago, and now-"

"and now i'm telling you i was toying with you, dear sir. such fun it is when you let on more than you'd like."

jeno's cheeks flush, the warm color dusting the bridge of his nose, apples of his cheeks, tips of his ears. your warm smile and benign banter bring him the simplest of joys. he's not sure he's ever felt this way before. familiarity. and, not the familiarity that comes from his assigned butler since birth, or the old lady at the apothecary he's been to all his life that's paid to tend to his wounds. not the familiarity that comes with blood and playing house, the type of sickened familiarity he feels with his brother, doyoung, that every second spent with him is forced. the familiarity he feels with you is by choice, by genuine and sincere desire. you want to wake up in the mornings with him by your side. you want to spend breakfast pushing each other's toes away underneath the table. you want to hold his hand when he walks you to your carriage. you want to make love with him in the most ungodly hours of the day. which is exactly what happens that morning.

a day is barely enough to do all the things you've penned in your journal. things to be done before you were to be married, with the one you were to be married to. the list had been written, curated, and refined by nine-year-old you, who you must say, had some very good ideas, though verily a romanticist.

jeno is departing tomorrow morning, as early as the sun will permit, and suddenly you wish that it would never rise again. whatever the case, you set out first thing this morning, hand tugging along a very tired prince, for the bathing pool. nine-year-old you must have misinterpreted the meaning of 'skinny dipping' for swimming but you thank nine-year-old you because things seem to have worked out in your favor either way. jeno is jolted awake by the gelid water, the seasons now mark three-quarters into fall.

"go in first," you state simply, hands on your hips and eyes drawn down into the water. the single toe you had dipped in to test the waters is frigid and frozen. jeno, who has yet to finish undressing himself, nodded at your words. if he were looking in your direction he would've noticed the smirk on your face. he stands straight, boxers on the ground behind him as he takes place by your side, "cold?"

"not at all, surprisingly," he's looking at you now and your countenance can't help but decompose in front of him, a small, unsuspecting smile adorning your lips. "oh really, can you attest for that?"

the smile is now blossoming unto your cheeks, "are you telling me to go in first?" the prince nods at that, fully aware of your schematics, "yes, i would like to see you enter the warm water."

"you agreed to go in first just a few seconds ago, don't tell me you've backed out on your word," a feeble matter against the boy but he defends himself by saying, "devious little princess, as if this wasn't your idea."

you're equally defensive when you point out, "not me, directly, but rather me as a child-" he pushes you in. lee jeno, second prince of the esteemed southern kingdom pushes you into the subzero degree bathing pool.

assuredly though, he dives in a few seconds after he's had time to relish in your shocked expression and piercing screams. he's coming up for air, his hands have found your bare hips to make sure that you resurface together. or drown together, you think, because it seems his foot is caught in the crevices between two rocks and since he's writhing like a madman, you're writhing with him too. it's a strange sight, two very beautiful individuals, absolutely in love but absolutely inane, for if jeno had thought to let go of his grip on you, you might've been able to unlodge his foot altogether if he had not been set on wrangling both your bodies about.

it's four minutes later that the two of you are on the leveled bronze rock, now, absolutely loosing it over jeno's lack of common sense. both of you are having trouble breathing, spurts of water still occasionally gushing past his lips. he thinks you're most beautiful in your bare skin, with nothing to define you but yourself. he's running his fingers up and down your torso, lips connecting with the surface of your neck. he appreciates that you kiss him with such avidity, you always do. jeno loves that you make it known to him, that what you say, you mean. and that even if you were never to utter a word again, he would still understand the sheer vehemence with which you love him.

you cross off paragliding, building a snowman, and studying together for a test. not because they've been completed but because there simply is no plausible way to get them done with the deadline closing in fast. the next activity you present to jeno has his eyebrows raised in intrigue. he's quick to reply when you ask him.

"a moon, a quartered moon." the knowing smile that grows on your face tells him he's chosen correctly.

jeno gives a squeeze to your hand as the needle comes in contact with your clean skin. the first few minutes are highlighted by the sensation of a million bee stings, racking through your brain, but the rest is relatively smooth sailing. yours comes out just as good as jeno's, a small moon, a quartered moon, tattooed into the skin just behind the left ear. there specifically, so that it's known by each other and each other only.

there will be months passed before the moon becomes a sort of unspoken but affirmative communication instrument. when jeno loves you a little too much, he rubs the inked skin softly. his sleepless nights are cured with the pad of your finger upon the spot. between the many general meetings you're required to oversee in a day, jeno waits outside the conference room for you to exit, his fingers stroking the moon for the duration of the few seconds allotted to him before you're whisked away again. the symbol of night is translated into accounts of bonding, the smallest of things giving way to happiness.

you would say the uses of the 'lovemark' are amplified as the sun retreats and the mascot of your relationship shines brighter than ever. it's evident in the look on jeno's face, especially, a few feet below you, peering up your skirt with a dumbstruck look on his face.

"jeno, dear, now is really not the time." the boy clears his throat and looks away, baffled at how you'd caught him anyways. your position is so frightfully awkward, one foot on the top end of your chamber's windowsill, another bent and hoisted onto the flat ledge of your roof. "come on up now, and get those dirty thoughts out of your mind. for heaven's sake, we're here to watch the sunset and stargaze, not to pound into each other."

the prince laughs at your offhanded remarks, arriving himself on the platform. the view is expansive in the way that you can see the forest from here, the ocean if you squint, the hills set in the far distance, and the sky has never felt closer to the earth while the things you've always known to be near appear smaller and more distant than ever. even the gregarious tree stalks of the forest rise to what could be measured as an only inch from this outlook.

"nine-year-old y/n seems to have known nothing but fun days." jeno muses, leaning his weight back upon his hands. your eyes are glazed in an omniscient mist, "i'd expect so, she was born and raised with everything." the prince picks up on the tone of distaste with which you'd spoken your words. he turns to you and studies the hairs that fall in your eyes, "hardly fair."

you reply not a beat after, "not at all fair. if i were to accomplish one thing during my run as queen, i'd give the children opportunities of a lifetime." the thoughts tumble out of your mind, as if you'd known of this conviction of yours since you were but a child. your drive as a ruler, firm and headstrong to implement your values and beliefs on your subjects has been the sole idea that's grounded you in the castle for your entire time being.

"and what if you cannot?"

your first reply is dealt with in humble humor, "at the very least, i'd like it to be engraved on my tombstone that i tried." the second, is laden with a sorrowful undertone, "housing, schooling, meals and warmth in the winter. we have it the worst here up north. if they are without school, they are left with nothing." jeno's head turns to yours, he sees the slip of a tear and he wipes it away, only to be met with another. your voice cracks in despair, "there are no mining jobs to take up, no farms to harvest, aqueducts to run. i dread that one day i must rule a kingdom of arts."

jeno tries, he really does, to gather you in his arms but your sobs rack your body with such force that he is left to comfort your desolations with words and a hand on your back, "what is there to dread? are the arts so difficult to maintain?"

bitterness forms at the tip of your tongue, "no, jeno. i regress in the face that art is invaluable. but the world seeks to attach a price to every viable thing, to label the passion of others. and now, now the arts are for the rich, only for the rich. have you ever heard of a hungry man paint instead of seeking shelter from the rain? a woman who writes prose instead of feeding her dying children? there is no one who can live solely on art but the heavens have sent me to rule a horde of those very people."

the prince knows you need to voice the thoughts weighing down your mind, so he gives them a platform, a nudge, "a kingdom of arts would be blessed to house a queen with intentions such as yourself, surely there are others who hold the same principles as you."

"no doubt," your eyes cast on the forming stars, "but as much as i would love to trail a path of meliorism and say that with a tide of willingness, there will be change, i must not forget the real nature of the world we live in."

"and what is this nature that you speak of?"

"the drive of greed and sadism, in exchange for the feeblest of pleasures."

the world comes to a still in this very moment. the moon begins her ascent. the stars unsheath their full luminance. the whites of their gleam reflecting on the rooftop on which the two of you are sat. time and space shrivel in the potency of untainted humanity.

"we will bring change, you and i."

you feel your heart calm as your rambling ceases. jeno looks over at you and smiles.

prince jeno is scheduled to return in twenty seven days time. there is something that feels wrong about him leaving. a feeling that if he leaves, all hell with turn loose and you will be unleashed unto the dogs for ravaging. there is a coated and unspoken thought that splutters in your mind whenever you even dare so much as to begin to think of it. the possibility that with jeno's leave, you'll be left with the realization that it was all a phase of infatuation. that when you see him again, all the feelings that you'd built up over the course of a month and a few days was just a glamourized dream. that he was never real; the real that you needed.

"i'll be forever thinking of those lips on mine, maybe even missing them," you let, comically. jeno eyes you conspicuously, "and i'll be forever thinking of you, as a whole, not just the lips unlike you. a little fixated you sounded there, mind you." his little sniggers are given in response to your hands pushing his chest in frisky response. the prince pulls you closer into a final embrace, the coachman of his black carriage is awaiting his departure.

he parts from you and you can't help but trail behind him down the paved path. he's over his shoulder now as you let loose a sliver of your deepest worries, meekly, "i hope we never change, jeno."

the prince halts at the bottom steps that curl into the palace. he sees you, feels you, knows you, for he quotes, “i will keep you,” he says softly, as sweet as black tea, “and i will keep you warm.” (Catherynne M. Valente, Deathless)

jeno can hear the light pellets of raindrops hit the roof of his carriage. the gray skies are darkening by the second, it's telling him something that he's sure he doesn't want to hear. his fingers fiddle with the cuffs of his tailored suit jacket, something you'd requested be made for him when his stay was first prolonged. the prince is entirely clad in white and he knows enough to imagine the face his mother will make when she first sees him home. lee jeno doesn't remember a time when he's donned a color other than black, but somehow, the white doesn't feel too far from home.

with the white, his mind flashes with the events of the past month or so spent in your noble abode. you, on the other hand, rarely ever wore a color other than white, the most differing shade being a cream or beige. but even with all the lights, you never seemed to mind when they were dirtied. almost always, a day in the fields or by the bathing pool would drench a good six inches of your skirts in mud and the unfurled hems of your frocks or crinkled fronts of those sweaters you so often adorned were always beyond your notice. you were free in that way, never stopping to fuss over the little things you deemed unimportant. jeno thinks if he could live that way too and though he isn't sure if he can, he knows he wants to.

jeno can hear the spindles of the carriage gyrating with added resistance against the now watered-down mud of the trodden roads. his eyes are caught in the sky that looks as if it's to detonate at any given second. he predicts the thunder before it rings loud in his ears and he hears the coachman slash a whip to a trepid horse, an echo of the natural phenomenon. he wonders what it would feel like to be the coachman, out in the clamorring downpour, or perhaps the horse, blindlessly running to the crack of a whip, or the trees even, awoken by the threat of a fire. he wonders if he has any desire to be the lightning itself, to jab at the delicate foliage as he'd like, to set fire to that of which he doesn't like, to wield destructive power. he wonders, but he knows he doesn't want to.

lee jeno is in his carriage when he realizes what it means to be free, but not in the hindrance of others. he realizes what it means, not to rule but rather to guide without the oppression of others. lee jeno is also in his carriage when the skies turn black and a deluge of rain is unleashed upon the castle of white.

a man a few inches brief to the prince, but of higher rank in swordsmanship, is propped on the limestone trellis that holds the awning in place, his two feet hooked between the vertical balusters of stone and fingers clung onto the ridge of the balustrade. he finds it ludicrous that every individual of importance he has ever met, is so caught up in their own belief that they are untouchable, where in reality they are the most vulnerable of all. he thinks this, specifically, as he upturns himself over the railing and onto the landing, only to see that the king's door are left wide open, the only shield of protection being the pristine white curtains glinting a sheen of blue in the moonlight.

renjun is humored when, upon drawing the curtains back, the king himself is simply laying there on the ground, unconscious as he was informed he'd be. the knight presses two fingers to the inner wrist of the withered man and finds that he still has a job to finish. brandishing a blade from the underside of his calf, he deems the inscription on the handle fit for the deed. he drives it into the gut but makes quick work of it, the sputters of blood that erupt from the now-awakened royal something he wishes the guards just outside not to hear. renjun makes further assurance that the blade is firmly put in place, the stout palladium shaft protruding from the king's abdomen like the ring of a windup toy.

a black body bag is used to sheath the quickly-paling bag of bones. it is left under the light of the moon, through a skylight rounded in the dead center of the palace. around the malefaction, stairs wind in all directions from the ground up and if there were even one maid to have crossed the landing once in the night, she would have been met with what looked to be an unassuming trash bag. but fate had it so the sun would rise before your dead father was stumbled upon, an inscribed shank planted between his internal organs reading, this star-like solitude (Giuseppe Ungaretti, from Last Choruses for the Promised Land: XVI (tr. by Patrick Creagh)).

the blood that seeps from the measly opening in the bag is not silver, nor is it gold. it is blood red. the red of a brazen senex that perhaps preceded and proceeded his times, entangled in the intricacies of the new age, the new game of politics he simply had no means to play at. akin to the webs of an arachnid, the string of fate hung around his neck, thin and unnoticeable, cinching with each passing second until Mother Nature deemed his time up. the blood that seeps writhes in the rays of the sun, twines like the veins in the marble beneath it. it seeps until the figure in the sack is drained and the clumping skin of human remains is the same shade as the white tiling. red against white, white against black, the black of a crying sky.

read volume three: dearly departed.

✧ end note — i had such a hard time trying to pull this outta my ass in a way that captures everything i wanted to say. so thank you for reading this piece. it’s one of my most favorite things i have ever written, undoubtedly.

#nct fics #nct scenarios #nct ff #nct jeno #nct lee jeno #jeno x reader #jenoxreader #jeno imagines #jeno fluff #jeno angst #jeno blurbs #rouiyan fics #rouiyan writes

95 notes · View notes

popculturebuffet · 3 years

Text

Star Vs: Stump Day Review or The Why Are You Booing Tom He’s Right Holiday Special

Before we start a special credit to @jess-the-vampire who I discussed the episode with during the writing process and brought up a LOT of good points that ended up going into this review. She clearly hates it as much as I do and had even more good reasons for it. Happy Hanukah, Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays Everybody! And today we got a big, fat, grotesque lump of coal to smash to pieces. And after a long, draining, if worth the effort scrooge review, and with this being something I needed to cross off my to do list this holiday season, I put this one here as I could use the cathariss of giving this steaming bowl of elephant piss a good thrashing. As you can tell unlike my usual reviews, I do not like this episode. This isn’t the FIRST i’ve not liked i’ve covered, but it is the first rather infamous one to me i’ve covered and not just a dead possum of an episode I ran into while reguarly covering an otherwise good show like “Quaraller’s Pass” or “Strife of the Party”. This one’s had it coming, making my top 8 worst christmas specials list last year, and while not the series worst outing, that’s a toss up between the finale and marco jr, it’s easily one of them. So while usually I like diving deeply into something good and picking apart while it’s good, if not ignoring any bad aspects, here i’m just going to take a hammer to this thing to explain why it dosen’t work and why it sucks dirty ass in thunderstorms. I might be overstating it a bit but probably not. Nothing really new has happened since the last episode so the only new thing to cover is why i’m doing the episode here instead of after Monster Bash. And the simple reason is that like the Ducktales Halloween and Christmas specials, this episode clearly does not take place in the same time frame of the episode before or after it, with the next episode, The Bog Beast of Bogabah, taking place the day after Monster Bash. It’s most likely they simply held this episode over till Christmas and it dosen’t really fit in AFTER the huge game changer that is monster bash, especailly since the next three episodes after this all take place in rapid sucession, two on the same day one the day after them. So yeah i’m doing this one first and putting it ahead of monster bash on my episode guide for clarity’s sake.

Good, so with all that settled, let’s unwrap this complete works of pauly shore shall we? We open on the titular Stump Day, essentially mewni’s christmas complete with Cocoa, carols and a gay couple and their equally adorable child. And Star, unsuprisingly is giddy for it as the actual chlidren, and wearing an adorable santaesque dress complete with horns on her santa hat. Seriously you cannot tell me tom didn’t get that for her. Fucking precious. Marco is more just confused and has his hood up and one of Star’s cousins asks uncle river to tell him the origin of stump day. River’s response.. is easily the best joke of the episode.

“(in a jolly tone) ha ha, you don’t tell me what to do”

He does so anyway though: Basically when settlers arrived on Mewni they found themselves cold and griping with each other, and soon found a blizzard had struck.. but by huddling together under a magic stump, they all learned to get along or something like that and now once a year everyone gathers in warmth and camraderie.. or else. Before Marco can understandably question what “or else” means in this context, Star butts in when one of her cousins chastises the younger one who asked river the question for beliviing and says he’s real. It’s a nice touch as it fits star perfectly to still belivie in mewni’s horrifying version of santa. I forgot just how adorable and likeable the character was before the final season shot that to hell. How her energy could be infectious and how Eden Sher really brought her all to the performance, which is still the performance of her career and hopefully like Rider Strong she’ll do more voice acting eventually. So that night as Star tucks in after wonderful night of sleep, and to avoid her dad’s usual drunken chorus of Tom Jones “Sex Bomb”, and gets woken up by Marco who leads her to the dining hall because a windows broken to fix it with magic. Star entirely buys this flimsy story.. but as Jess pointed out, and as I missed hence the credit up top... she dosen’t bring her wand. She.. dosen’t bring her wand.. to go fix something with magic. Now i’ll grant next season shows she CAN fully do magic without it, and while not as powerful like her mom still has plenty of punch behind it.. especially when she does the rainbow fist thing. But it’s still.. weird she dosen’t think to grab it and feels out of character. While Star’s learned by this point not to rely on it, and as we’ll see gives it up entirely, one of the few bits of her character development that actually sticks, it still seems resonable she’d take it with her wherever she goes.. and usually SHE DOES. And her jammies, which are also adorable, seem to have pockets so the animators had no reason to not just stuff it in one. It would’ve made their job harder yes.. but then don’t have marco use an excuse that directly requires it then and draws attention to the fact the wand is missing, and the fact you blatantly just hoped we’d forget about it as it’d ruin the climax.

It’s far from the worst thing in this episode..trust me we’re almost there. But this does bring me to a point.. so far the episode is GOOD. The comedy’s good, the setup for what’s about to happen is good, the holdiay setting is warm and inviting but weird enough to perfectly fit mewni, and River, much like his VA and homosexual talking boat portrayer Alan Tudyuk, is a national treasure as always. Whelp it’s all down hill from here bitches! Giddyup.

So Marco announces a SUPRISE PARTY! And everyone’s there: Tom, Kelly, Ponyhead, Starfan14... oh yeah this is the first ep i’ve coverd with Starfan14 isn’t it? Starfan14 is star’s insane fangirl, voiced by series creator Derfron Nercy herself, who star happily tolerates despite clearly wanting to wear her skin. We’ve all been there. Also Jackie is transparently missing, though at least it’s SOMEWHAT reasonable as she and marco broke up a few .. months ago? I mean it is winter on mewni for this episode but the end of season 4 and the series is set at the start of summer, yet months still pass.....

Confusing timeline aside, Jackie has every reason not to attend a party thrown by her ex for the girl who confesed she had feelings for said ex and it’s probably the only good decision Marco makes this entire episode that he wisely decided to give Jackie some space. And it says something a decision made entirely off screen that was probably because the creators genuinely forgot Jackie once she was out of the way so they could shift the love triangle stuff to Tom, Star and Marco instead of you know.. not doing that because most love triangles are annoying at best and utterly insufferable at worst. Case in point this episode but I can give out more about this aspect of things in a bit with more context.

And to his credit, and as Jess backed me up on, Marco’s gesture is genuinely throughtful.. at least to start with. He got her a choclate fountain, brought all of her friends, and geninely just thought Star never celebrated her birthday on her birthday because it was you know the same day as christmas. As someone whose birthday is a week before christmas, December 16th if you were curious, I understand the pain of having your birthday in the same month as christmas. Of having all your presents clustered at once and of having to manuver around a very stressful season, though it does sometimes have perks like getting to celebrate your birthday and christmas, it also means your birthday is secondary and always will be to most people due to proximity. And Star has hers ON mewman christmas, so it’s even worse. So from Marco’s perspective, TO START, his best friend constantly had to share her birthday with her faviorite holiday and just wanted to do something nice. SO FAR, he’s done nothing wrong and just means well. That’s... about to end. Star.. instead of being greatful.. starts muttering no before going on an manic rampage and destroying everything including hte band’s insturments. And apparnetly star’s gotten some flack for her behavior.. but I understand it. To her the stump is VERY real, and will be very angry if someone else celebrates so to her all she’s doing is saving her best friend from the holiday equilvent of the trees from evil dead, and when Marco asks about it she GENUINELY is sorry, getting he meant well, that he was being sweet, and that he did a lot of nice stuff for her.. she just can’t celebrate not because she loves the holiday but because again, from her persepctive, the stump will kill them all if they don’t support it. She is genuinly affraid for her friends lives and given she could go grab her wand and fight it, clearly thinks she, with all her CONSIDERABLE powers, cannot win this, and neither can tom whose powers are almost entirely fire based. Star is just trying to protect her friends from being horribly murdered. And she turns out to be entirely right about it so no, star was not a jerk here. A bit over the top, but she was not insensitive, she was not mean, she just didn’t want a party for understandable reasons.

So let’s get to actually insensitive shall we?! Marco’s reaction to this is at first confusion as he didn’t realize the stump was real, though Tom, Kelly and Pony are convinced it’s not. Also this episode implies Kelly is from mewni, but she turns out not to be so why she knows about the stump I genuinely don’t know. They think it’s just a baby thing.. though in Tom’s defense he dosen’t phrase it that way, thinks star still beliving is cute, which for a teenage boy finding out his girlfriend belivies in santa is very sweet and mature of him, and is trying to be nice about it even if he doesn’t believe. But Marco.. his response to his friend having a good reason for not wanting to have the party.. is to complain about how much effort he put into it and try to guilt and bribe her into having it by mentoining he got her faviorite cake flavor, rainbow. Just.. WOW. I’ve seen some bad turns from characters, but WOWWWWWW. Holy shit.. I mean at least other jerkass marco episodes before this had SOME reasoning to them. Sophmore Slump had him clearly sublimating his feelings for star combined with the usual obnoxiousness of someone having gone abroard for the first time, which as Letterkenny recently went into, the only thing worse is Stillborn Puppies. Nothing else.

youtube

And with Lint Catcher while he was presumptive and not blameless.. river still outright lied to him. Here? It’s clear star dosen’t want this, cake can be refigirated, he only takes a loss on the choclate fountain and he could still just let everyone have some and say it’s for stump day to appease her. He dosen’t have to take a loss on this finacially or morally and there would be no harm done. But that’s.. not what HE wanted, not waht HE set up and he wants what HE wanted, which was to impress star with a thoughtful gesture. But that’s the thing bud: Gestures aren’t about you or what you get. Their about doint something nice for another fucking person. It’s the whole point of christmas and birthdays: To just give someone something to be ncie and to celebrate the day and them respectively. If she dosen’t WANT your gift for understandable reasons and isn’t being rude about it you don’t have any leg to stand on you seflish twatwaffle.

So already Marco is not coming off well.. and if you know this episode you know it gets worse. Oh god it gets worse. So first PONYHEAD of all people calls out Marco.. and for once, PONYHEAD, the most selfish, most unresonable and a character whose tolerablity varies on the episode, tells him he’s being selfish and is only pressing on because of his need to control things. So not only is Ponyhead right but the episode LIKELY wants you to feel she’s wrong because she’s pony which is not how this work as she knows star well and thus, while unaware she still belivied in the stump, which tracks as while it’s obvious she does Pony is so up her own whatever she has that functions as an ass, it’s understandable she’d miss some details. So no Pony’s right, and the fact PONY is one of the more resonable people in this episode is both a sign of the apocalypse, which is thankfully starting to recede, and a clear marker of just how bad Marco’s being if someone who torments him and disagrees with him out of principal is entirely right.

Oh but it gets worse as next up, Tom steps in and tries to get Marco to back out, admitting he told him this was a bad idea. Now granted Tom did mess up by not stepping in to stop this a bit.. but he A) didn’t know how much his girlfriend genuinely belivied in the stump and B) Probably assumed Marco meant well, as would I before he whined about not getting his way, and decided it was worth a try. So he’s not that bad, and while it is a bit ehhh to try and take back credit for this when he participated, it’s still minor and Marco is still being a huge dick who refuses to help shut things down when it’s clear the party is only causing star to have a panic attack and assault some humble marachi players. He sees nothing good is coming from this and just wants what star wants. Also it paints Marco in a worse light as he was warned about this, and was so obssed with making it a suprise party because that’s how his plan went, he refused to just.. talk to her about it. Hell he could’ve just casually asked “Why do you never celebrate your birthday on your birthday”. It’s an easy question, dosen’t give the game away and allows him to gage if this is a good idea or not BEFORE baking a cake , hiring a band and getting a chocolate fountain. Instead he just went ahead with it. And he did so.. because this ISN’T about making Star happy. This is abotu HIM making star happy. Him showing her how thoughtful, and considerate and sweet he is and how he’s always been there for her and how maybe she should be with him instead of Tom. I mean it just comes off that way.. he made it a suprise party because in his head that’s how it worked and she was super impresed and left tom that day to be with him in some elaborate fantasy. Granted the episode dosen’t say this.. but it sure as hell acccidently implies hte hell out of it by having marco act like a selfish ass who refuses to take what STAR wants into consideration, and just wants to get his fantasy back on track. What supports this to me is how he treats tom, you know one of his best friends: He, again, accuses him of forgetting.. then calls him a bad boyfriend.. a bad boyfriend for NOT wanting to force a celebration on his girlfriend she does not want, and for not forcing it on her. For you know GROWING AS A PERSON. Beacuse here’s the pickle pumpernickle: This thing Marco’s doing? Is exactly the kind of thing a pre-character development TOM did, that was rightfully framed as bad. Being controlling, wanting things to go JUST a certain way instead of letting them flow naturally, not getting the hint star isn’t intrested, and not caring about what she wants and only what you want. Marco is doing the same thing Tom used to do. And for starters i’ts already bad because you know MARCO WAS THE ONE WHO FINALLY GOT IT THROUGH TO TOM THAT THIS KIND OF BEHAVIOR WAS TOXIC AND SELFISH. But apparently when it’s Marco himself doing it it’s fine. If there was ever any clear evidence Marco regressed as a character, there it is. Him actively unelarning a lesson he taught someone else and then getting combative when that person rightly tries to call him out. Marco is just insufferable in this episode: He’s being selfish, creepy and posseive and he’s apparenlty supposed to, at least on some level BE RIGHT. But.. we will get to that. Consider a pin put in this rant.

So Tom overreacts, and throws some fire at marco, which is genuinely wrong and Kelly’s right to call him out, and then headlocks him asking marco to say he’s a good boyfriend. Marco screams out ‘NEVVVEEEERRRR”

I just made this, by hapinstance, while watching the video I put up there. I.. I did not think i’d get to use this so soon but my god. Just my god that’s a terrible thing to say. So the party soon breaks down elsewhere as Kelly is mad at tom for.. understandable reasons again the guy she has a crush on was just nearly set on fire, even if i’m still on Tom’s side overall here, it’s still not right. Janna points out it’s probably because she has a crush on marco, which while acurate dosen’t mean she was wrong and Tad pops out to be upset about that. Even though you know you two are broken up and as Kelly points out he needs to move out. Pony is mad she’s not getting any attention and Starfan is mad because star’s mad. Star results to desperate measures, opening the windows to try and repeate the act of the settlers. She didn’t however count on the Janna factor as she throws the stump in the fire, which is in chracter. What’s not, and again I give Jess full credit for this one, is that everyone just starts.. warming around the stump and not caring like a bunch of jackasses not caring about their close friend, and in tom’s case, girlfriend’s feelings. Also tom and marco apparently stopped fighting just to be this stupid.

But naturally burning the symbolic stump is a bad idea and the real one attacks. Protip: If you live in a world of magical nonsense, maybe don’t discount the magic stump. Everyone’s captured, including moon and river, with River also being suprised and replying to Star’s annoyance at him not beliving with “Sweetie it’s a stump!”. Alan Tudyk is a god and I feel you all should acknowleddge that. But yeah everything seemsm to be bad but everyone apologizes, if not for the right things in Marco’s case, and Tom says “I’m sorry i’m a bad boyfriend!”. You .. you aren’t. You did nothing wrong. I feel like this is tom for the last agrivating 6 minutes of the episode

He did SOME THINGS wrong but he is NOT a bad boyfriend. He is throughtful, kind and while he has flaws, SO DOES STAR. He is not a bad boyfriend for not wanting to repeat past abusive actions! GAH. Let’s just get on with it. They all hold hands, they thiunk this is what made the stump go away but Star is sure it was just going to kill them, Moon and River have a thousand yard stare as they realize they both have to get repairs for this room now and do an extra big stump day next year to make sure it dosen’t come back. And Marco apologizes to star.. for not beliving her. Not for forcing this on her, not for causing all of this, not at all to tom, but for not beliving her while star FUCKING APOLOGIZES TO HIM. Pin removed, bullshit falling to the floor... Trunks if you would.

Thank you. Star DID NOTHING WRONG. Tom DID LESS WRONG THAN MARCO. WHY ARE THEY APOLOGIZING. Why is this little shithead getting everything he wants as the party happens after all, if a day later, and he gets to dance with star, while everyone else is painted as being in the wrong? That’s what makes this special so putrid: that MARCO is apparently in the right for doing the same , if on a smaller scale, manipulative shit tom used to do before he grew as a person, yet the episode sides with him, props him up and teases Starco. If it’s Starco it’s okay apparently and that’s.. not okay. You can’t .. build a ship on a character acting like a jackass. That’s not how this works. Marco was wrong, he was bad and he should FEEL bad. Instead he’s just a creepy jerk this entire episode, being entitled, manipulating star, screaming at tom.. and gets REWARDED FOR IT. Fuck this episode.

FINAL THOUGHTS: I believe I said Fuck this episode. This is easily one of star vs’ worst episode and much like the season after this episode it gets worse the more you think about it. I put it on my worst holiday episodes list for a reason.. and frankly even with the decent first 4 mintues it should be higher. It’s an unplesant mess that throughly ruins Marco’s character and takes him from a kind, upstanding, polite and bright young man to a creepy manpiulative jackasss. Fuck this episode and have a happy holidays.

#Star Vs the Forces of Evil #star butterfly #marco diaz #Tom lucitor #tomstar #starco #kelly #lilica ponyhead #starfan14 #christmas #holidays #holiday #stump day #bad episodes #reviews #animation

82 notes · View notes

kiras-sunshine · 3 years

Text

Oh, you are the one I want

Written for Carlos Reyes Week day 2: “I’ll always be here for you” + romance

Summary: “but did you really think that if you call me in the middle of the shift sounding all miserable that I’m not going to come and check up on you?”

Read on ao3

Carlos leans against the wall of the police station. It’s a sunny day and the sunlight is bright. The wall feels warm against his palm. He squints a little as he looks at his phone and selects TK’s phone number from his contacts list.

The line rings a couple of times before he picks up.

“Hey,” he says as soon as the line connects, and his voice sounds happy.

Carlos closes his eyes. It is ridiculous how much he misses him, even though he saw him yesterday. Still, just hearing his voice makes his heart flutter.

“Hey,” he eventually whispers.

He hears some rustling on the other end of the phone. He knows he is on a shift too, but he hoped it would be a quiet moment and that he would be able to pick up the phone.

“What’s up?”

He lets out a deep sigh. “I think--,” he starts but he lets his voice trail off. “I cannot make it today,” he eventually says, and a knot forms in his stomach immediately as he says it.

They had made actual plans because both of them had the evening off. A proper date night with a dinner in a restaurant and he had planned to take TK back to the field where they had watched the aurora borealis to star gaze this time because the forecast promised a clear and bright night sky.

He had been looking forward to it all. An actual date is a bit of rarity for them, not that he wouldn’t cherish any moment he gets to spend with him, but it is still a nice change to their hectic lives.

He wants to see him more than anything, but he is ridiculously tired, and nothing has gone as he hoped during his shift. They have been understaffed during his whole shift, and he has been rushing from call to call, and his stressed co-workers keep snapping at him. Every call he gets send on seems to bring the worst out of people, he has already dealt with drunken people, domestic violence case and an attempted robbery.

On top of that, he had been the first one arriving to the scene of a car crash that was the result of reckless driving and speeding, and the woman driving the car had serious injuries, and she had been taken to the hospital immediately, but he isn’t sure if he believes that she can make it out alive. It has been a while since he has seen that much blood.

He feels hopeless and defeated. He wants to see TK and forget everything about his shift, but he knows he cannot magically turn off his thoughts from work when he gets off shift and it will take even longer to shake off the events of the day, especially the car crash, from his mind and TK deserves better than rushed-down dinner with him shutting down and sulking.

“Okay,” TK says. His voice is quiet, but there are no traces of annoyance in his voice. He hears footsteps from the other end of the call, and he is quite sure he is walking to somewhere more quiet.

“I’m sorry,” he says, closing his eyes again.

He feels terrible for cancelling, but he knows, deep down, he cannot just put a brave face on and pretend to him that everything is fine. He would see right through him. It is almost uncanny how well he manages to read him, almost like an open book, and how thoroughly he has managed to learn to know him.

It is a great feeling, being known and seen by someone he loves, and he cherishes the feeling of it, but it also means TK won’t fall for any facades of being alright. He loves him, maybe more than he can ever say, but he knows that his mind would circle just back to the events of the shift. Nothing kills romance faster than talking about gruesome accident scenes, and he knows he cannot avoid talking about it if they have the date as they planned.

A couple of his previous boyfriends always complained that he brings too much work to home and that he keeps constantly talking about his job. He sort of gets how that can be annoying and too much for people but talking it out is his way of dealing with his emotions.

He knows TK would listen to him, without any complaints, if he talked to him, but there is always a certain threshold of sharing the worst parts of his job with him because he understands it too well. He has seen his fair share of horribleness of life in his own job, and it feels almost unfair to dump the ugliest parts of his job on him, too.

“Don’t be,” he says, softly and reassuringly. “Are you okay?”

His voice is coloured by genuine concern and he knows that he is already caught on that something is bothering him.

“Yeah,” he replies, dragging his hand along his face, “just a rough shift and I need to do overtime.”

It’s not a lie, he convinces himself. It’s a simplified, cut-down version of the reality and thanks to the busy shift, the paperwork pile is a lot longer than he would like.

“You can tell me if you aren’t,” he says, simply.

It still makes his heart feel a thousand times heavier in his chest. He wants to see him, he wants to hug him, and he wants to pour all of the messy and unattractive feelings out of him, but he cannot do that in the middle of his own, or his, shift.

“I’m fine. Just—exhausted and people are being idiotic,” he tells him with an attempted laughter, but it ends up sounding hollow and joyless.

He is tempted to ask him to come over once his shift is over, but it feels a just a bit selfish to cancel all of their plans and still ask him to come over just because he needs him.

“Isn’t that how it usually is?”

His voice is lighter and even though he cannot see him, video chat would have given all of his secrets away immediately, he still knows he is probably sporting a tiny half-smile that tugs in the right corner of his mouth.

“Yeah,” he agrees, “and I will make this up to you.”

TK deserves the world, and he wants to make him happy, but as he leans against the wall, he knows that not burdening him with his issues in the middle of the workday or immediately afterwards, might be the best way to do it.

“Don’t worry about it,” he replies, without missing a beat.

He exhales audibly as he watches people walking in and out of the main doors. He knows he should get back to work.

“I should go,” he says, reluctantly. Merely hearing his voice helps a bit, but he knows he cannot dwell on his thoughts too long if he wants to make through rest of his shift.

“Okay,” he whispers and pauses for a moment. “Carlos?”

“Yeah?”

“I love you.”

His voice is still quiet and gentle, but there is such certainty in it that it almost makes it sound powerful and it still sends the same thrill of happiness and warmth through his heart as it did the first time he heard he say it.

He squeezes his phone a little tighter. “I love you, too,” he says, unwilling to let the moment pass, but he still disconnects the call after a couple of seconds.

*****

Coming back to the dark and empty apartment hasn’t felt this much of a sucker punch into the gut for ages, but he knows it’s his own fault.

He throws the keys to the bowl he keeps on the table next to the door and crashes on the couch. He realises there is something underneath his back and he wiggles to pull it away from there. It feels like fabric and he realises that he holds one of TK’s black and plain AFD t-shirts in his hand, and he contemplates calling him, but he doesn’t know what he would say.

Instead, he keeps staring at the ceiling. He definitely loses track of time and he groans when he hears a knock on his door. He is almost tempted not to open the door because the only person he currently wants to see has a key and almost all of his neighbours know he is a cop and they always come to his door if they spot any sort of unrest anywhere near their building.

Still, he gets up and opens to door, and to his surprise, it’s not any of his neighbours, but his boyfriend.

TK is smiling, affectionately, and he is holding two pizza boxes on his left hand. His hair is sticking up a bit, and it looks like he has showered and dried his hair in a rush and instead of his normal short-sleeved button up and jeans, he is wearing a dark blue hoodie and a pair of sweatpants.

“Hey,” he says.

“Hey, I thought we cancelled,” he replies, not very eloquently, but his mind refuses to cooperate because he wanted to see him, but he also didn’t expect to see him, and it feels slightly unreal to see him standing there.

“We did,” he says, and points him with his index finger, “but did you really think that if you call me in the middle of the shift sounding all miserable that I’m not going to come and check up on you?”

Carlos opens his mouth but closes it again, because he is not sure of the answer. He should have known. TK has a big heart, and he is one of the most caring people he has met, and he knows that he loves him, so he should have been able to count one plus one together.

Maybe he had subconsciously been aware of the possibility of this when he called him. Wanting to let him know that he isn’t alright without outright saying it aloud.

“I should have guessed,” he admits, biting down a smile.

“Damn right you should have,” he agrees, and his smile is warm and reassuring, and it reaches his eyes, making the corners of his eyes crinkle.

He hands the pizza boxes to him. The boxes still feel warm and the smell is amazing. He still lets out a surprised laugh when he sees the logo on the top of the box.

“You hate that place,” he points out.

He has never met anyone who would have more opinions about what proper pizza is than TK, and he has listened to his rants about superiority of New York’s pizza and the awfulness of the small place he prefers countless times. He would have thought that TK refuses to go anywhere near that place because had been so appalled by the pizza they once ordered.

He rolls his eyes, but he seems amused. “Yeah, but you love it. There’s enough for two, but if you want to be alone, I will go.”

He just stares at him for a moment. It means a lot to him that he tries to give him space and respect his boundaries by not storming into the apartment with his key, but right now, he feels like space is the absolute last thing he needs.

He reaches to place the pizza boxes on the living room coffee table. He returns to the door and curls his fingers around his wrist and pulls him into a tight hug and closes the door behind him. “I’m glad you’re here.”

TK chuckles a little, but he wraps his arms around him too and keeps stroking the space between his shoulder blades with his hand. He just hugs him a little tighter and burrows his face into his neck and the fabric of his hoodie.

He breathes in his scent, and he smells faintly of fruity soap and his hair smells a bit like coconuts. It’s such a familiar scent that he almost feels like he has just arrived at home.

“Thank you,” he mumbles, still against his hoodie, “I might not be the best company right now, though.”

“Hey, none of that,” he insists, determinedly. He holds him a little tighter. “I already know something is bothering you, and that’s why I’m here. I’m all in. I want to be around it all, the bad days and everything. I want you.”

He is half-convinced his stomach somersaults at his words and his eyes are stinging. He is almost speechless, and he just presses a kiss against his neck.

“I want to share it all with you,” he eventually whispers and reluctantly pulls away from their hug. “I just thought it would be easier for you if I didn’t burden you with it.”

He holds his gaze, and his eyes are gleaming. “Yeah, because I always like to take the easy way out,” he deadpans.

A short laughter escapes his throat, despite everything. It’s public knowledge that TK is a walking trouble magnet, no matter what he does. He attracts trouble and he is stubborn and determined. He loves a challenge and when he decides to do something, there is no stopping him. Opting to take the easy choice doesn’t really suit him.

“You don’t have to compartmentalize your feelings,” he points out, matter-of-factly, but there is still kindness in his voice as he picks up the pizza boxes and carries them to the kitchen.

“I never not wanted to see you,” he says, leaning against the kitchen island as TK takes out plates and cuts pizzas into slices.

It feels important that he knows he didn’t try to push him away, he wanted to protect him, shield him. “I had a crappy day, and I didn’t feel like I was up for any of our plans and pretend that nothing had happened,” he adds, staring at the plates, “and I felt guilty for cancelling, but I would have absolutely ruined the date.”

TK places the pizza cutter down. He gestures between them. “If the roles were reversed, would you have understood?”

“Of course,” he says, without hesitation, and the ridiculousness of his own thoughts is starting to dawn on him.

“Yeah, so I get it. We are first responders, there is no way of predicting what we will see and experience on calls. There is no guarantees that we even make home after a shift is done. It’s no wonder if we don’t always feel like following our plans and pretend to be a couple who don’t have to face death and destruction every day.”

He lets out a deep breath. He walks up to him and loosely wraps his arms around him and rests his head on his shoulder. “You’re right,” he says with a huff, “I knew you’d understand, it’s just—I didn’t want to be a burden.”

“You could never be,” he says, in a tone that is the softest he has ever hear him use, “for someone who reads people as their job, you’re really atrocious at predicting how will I react,” he jokes, but leans into the touch.

“Seems so,” he hums.

It has nothing to do with lack of faith in him, and everything to do with how he has been treated in the past and what he has deemed himself to be worth of.

“It’s a small wonder this doesn’t happen more often,” he muses, as Carlos lets his hand fall away and he sits near him on the kitchen chair. “We should come up with a codeword,” he declares, with a beaming grin, as he sits down, too.

“For cancelling plans?” He asks, as he takes a bite out of his slice of pizza.

“Yes. Just one word that would mean that either one of us has had a horrible day at work, automatically cancelling all potential plans and letting the other know that we might feel less than okay,” he explains, giving him a pointed look, “and no question asked.”

He knows that they can communicate, and that they have gotten better at talking to each other lately, and somehow more often than not they are on the same wavelength and just understand where the other is coming from, but his idea makes sense.

“That’s actually pretty good idea.”

He loves his job and TK loves his, and he knows neither one of them wouldn’t change them for the world, but their jobs can be exhausting, they drain every last drop of energy and it takes a lot to do it everyday basis.

“What should be the word?” He asks, his mouth half-full of pizza.

“I don’t know,” he shrugs, looking around himself, “it could be anything. It doesn’t have to make sense to anyone else,” he continues, and his gaze lands on the notepad that lies on the kitchen island next to the pizza boxes.

It has his, or more accurately, their grocery shopping list. He skims it through and looks up to him, his eyes gleaming with amusement. “Broccoli?”

“Broccoli?” He echoes, but he ends up nodding. “Works for me.”

“Broccoli it is then,” he declares and picks up a slice of pizza. He glances at it suspiciously before taking a bite out of it. “If you ever need a proof how much I love you, this is it,” he grumbles, pointing at the pizza in his hand.

“Warms my heart, truly,” he says, with a thin smile, and strokes his calf with his foot.

They eat in silence for a moment until TK speaks again. His whole expression softens as he looks at him, but his eyes are grave. “Do you want to talk about it? You don’t have to if you don’t want to, but I’m here if you do.”

“Yeah,” he breathes out and examines his own hand. He runs his thumb over his right palm. “We were understaffed, everyone was grumpy, and it was a busy day. A call after a call, and majority of them were the sort of scenes that could have been avoided if everyone just stopped and considered how their actions affect other people.”

TK keeps his eyes on him, and he keeps nodding as he listens to his rambling. “The worst part was this car accident. Another patrol car had been chasing them ‘cause they were endangering the traffic with reckless driving. She ended up crashing her car against bridge railing.”

He sighs, half out of frustration and half because he can still see the scene in his mind in such a vivid detail. “I was the first one to arrive and it was—bad. The ambulance was a couple minutes out and there wasn’t much I could do, but I tried to help and talk to her.”

TK slides his hand along the kitchen island and takes his hand into his own. He holds it gently, just letting Carlos’ hand rest on his palm and he has his fingers loosely wrapped around it. It’s a small gesture, but it feels significant and compassionate.

“The ambulance arrived pretty fast, but I felt so helpless and there was so much blood,” he lets his voice trail off as he swallows. “They took her to hospital, and I hope she makes it, but I don’t know. It had been a bad day, but that was the last straw.”

He looks at their joined hands. “I’ve washed my hands so many times, but I feel like I still have her blood on my hands,” he admits in a brittle voice, even though it feels a bit ridiculous as he says it aloud.

TK says nothing of the sort, instead he reaches to kiss his forehead. “I’m sorry, that sounds awful.”

He doesn’t know what to say, so he just nods. Sometimes there are cases that are difficult to leave at work, he knows this, but it never gets easier. It is still feels difficult to shake them off.

“For me, it sounds like you did your best,” TK adds, softly. “And I know you know it, but it’s not your fault. Any of it.”

“Yeah.”

Deep down, he knows it. It’s only logical that he cannot have control over other people’s actions, but it still feels different to hear it from someone else.

“And it’s okay not to feel okay immediately afterwards. It would be a lot more worrisome if you were not affected by your job,” he adds, just as gently as before.

He supposes he has a point. He smiles at him, hoping that even a fraction of the gratefulness and affection he is feeling gets across. “Thank you for being here.”

He reaches to kiss his cheek. He can feel his slight stubble against his cheek as he does so. “I’ll always be here for you.”

Always is an awfully long time, but it fills his heart with happiness to know that they are casually throwing words like that around, that they truly are in it for the long haul.

“Me too, for you.”

TK laughs. “I know, babe. You’ve proved that so many times already,” he strokes the back of his hand. They both glance the slices of uneaten pizza, but he at least has lost any appetite he previously had. “What do you want to do?”

“Sleep,” he replies without any hesitation. His exhaustion is still there, and he feels calmer now, more grounded and that is only intensifying his fatigue. “Or attempt at least.”

It might be that the memories of the crash scene might haunt him or that he feels eventually too restless to lay in bed, but he wants to try at least. And he always sleeps better when TK is there with him.

His smile is warm and bright, like the first beams of a rising sun. “We can do that.”

#carlosreyesweek2021 #tarlos #tarlos fic #carlos reyes #tk strand #911 lone star fic #911 lone star #look i managed to write another one #this was actually pretty fun to write and I hope you like it too

39 notes · View notes

wallwriterstuff · 4 years

Note

Am I allowed to place in a request for Mr svelte tracker boi Demetri? I need my greek boi fix. 😅😂 My stimming (due to my slight autism and anxiety) has been kinda bad lately and I was wondering if you could do some headcanons on how he would be with a reader who has that going on? (For example, some of my stimming signs are restless, uncontrollable finger twitches sometimes, and sudden limb movements and facial twitches I can't control 😅) Thanks! Also, sorry if this is too touchy a subject!🙈

You most certainly are allowed and I cannot express how hard I fangirled when I realised it was you in my ask box. I played it very cool but just know I was dying inside from the moment I saw your username come up XD

TW: Mentions of anxiety and sensory overload. If that’s a little personal to you please be cautious about reading this one!

I’m incapable of writing short things it seems so it’s another long one.

Self-stimulating behaviour, known more commonly as stimming, usually involves repetitive movements and/or sounds. Though it is most often associated with autism (I know when I first saw the word stimming that was where my mind immediately went to) everybody stims in some way, shape or form to relieve stress, tension, anxiety, boredom etc. Some ways are less noticeable than others such as nail biting or finger tapping, while others can be more obvious and disruptive to your social/daily life like licking certain objects or scratching at skin.

I learned all this from doing a bit of reading before taking on this request and if you want to know more then the link to the article I read is right -----> HERE <------ ! It’s informed my ideas for this headcanon request and though I’m open to discussions about the topic to help educate myself and anyone else who wishes to learn more, what I will not tolerate is any sort of hate or discrimination based on the links to developmental disorders and mental illness that stimming has. This blog has and always will be a safe space for anyone and everyone and a little respect for one another will help keep it that way. Be kind folks!

So without further ado, how would Demetri react to you stimming I wonder?

Part 1: Headcanons below the Keep Reading Line Part 2: Teeth (fic) Part 3: Control (fic)

· He honestly wouldn’t really notice for a while because, well, humans aren’t exactly designed to be as flawless as vampires

· Impromptu nosebleeds, migraines, sneezes…they’re just glitches in a faulty system so why is the way your leg just bounced up off of the floor while your sitting any different to those other equally as involuntary things

· He’s struggling right now to, after all he just met his very human mate and it’s quite overwhelming for him to have to adapt to all these new feelings and situations he finds himself in, but he deals because he can

· Some days, you just…can’t

· Getting attacked by a man with some bizarre fascination with your neck is bad enough but being whisked away by strangers is somehow even worse. At least in the first scenario once it’s over it’s over, now you’re just living an anxious person’s nightmare in a new place full of new people

· Volterra was beautiful, but it wasn’t home. No cosy apartment, no neighbours cat to feed, no monotonous shifts at work…

· Actually, most of the time you’re left utterly alone to navigate an unfamiliar castle, and the times you aren’t alone is when there’s a man claiming to be your eternal lover in front of you

· Try to convince me this man doesn’t rip the band aid off and profess his love for you with dramatic flair just TRY

· Your days are filled with endless boredom where you’re doing nothing at all until someone checks on you, and then fight or flight kicks in because oh HELLO Mr Vampire guard are you here to give me lunch or kill me?

· Demetri had thought that perhaps you were okay with that, since you hadn’t really outwardly reacted beyond the way your cheek twitched up into a smirk once or twice as he spoke. Hell, you’d even winked at him…right?

· You did that a lot so he really genuinely thought that maybe you were just trying to flirt with him, build a relationship with him. Your constant little winks and the way your fingers twitched when he was nearby, like you so desperately wanted to reach out to him…

· It took a few weeks before he realised how wrong he was

· You’d reached for a sip of water and your arm had just whipped outward from your body

+ You’d absolutely drenched him with your entire glass of water and could only stare in abject horror wondering what the supposed vampire would do next, since you’d interrupted him rather smugly detailing his plans for your first date

· Silence

· There was just silence

· It only made your anxiety worse and the muscles in your face just spasmed without your permission and - god did you just smirk at him again, oh no

+ “I’m glad one of us finds this amusing. If you did not like the idea there were other ways to tell me so.”

· You almost want to cry from sheer embarrassment at this point because the date really had sounded like it could be fun and now you’d just straight up thrown water in his face like he’d insulted you in the worst way imaginable

· So you come clean and tell him about your stimming

· He’s really worried at first because autism? Anxiety he’s heard of but autism sounds very dangerous, are you dying? You’re probably dying. He’s going to lose his mate –

· Another involuntary finger twitch from you forces him to calm down because your anxious enough without his worrying on top, so he kind of brushes it off and makes no big deal out of it

· Squeezes your hand and kisses your forehead to try and reassure you all is forgiven, even if he does have to go change a very expensive looking designer shirt and god you’re so sorry

· Of course, that kind of makes it worse for you because anxiety brain is activated and your 99.9999% sure he’s actually furious with you still and has only pretended to forget it while he’s plotting his revenge

· You see him late at night when you struggle to fall and stay asleep, reading in the low lamplight at his desk across the room, his laptop propped open and a notebook before him but you’re too scared still to ask what it is he’s reading so intently (probably good suggestions on places to bury your body welp)

· It’s a complete surprise to you therefore when he does take you out on that date he promised you not two weeks later

· He’s chosen a nice overcast day so he’s in the least conspicuous clothing he owns

+ Demetri’s least conspicuous clothes still consist of the most chic and expensive brands you know of and he sticks out like a sore thumb amongst the quaint little market stalls he’s brought you to see

· Despite the gloomy weather the people of Volterra are out in full force though, swarming the market stalls and chattering and laughing as flashes of gold and silver from jewelry hit your eyes, bright coloured fabrics following

· It’s all just too much

· There’s people everywhere and so much noise, so many colours and lights and people brushing past you…

· Your fingers clench tight around his, his hand immersed in a glove to keep his freezing skin from chilling you too much

· He squeezes back lightly, eyes shifting to glance down at you with the kindest smile on his lips

+ “Keep squeezing my hand whilst we find somewhere quieter to stand.”

· Your fingers seemed to take turns pressing into his rock solid skin, an odd sort of comfort coming from the fact you know you can press down hard and he won’t so much as register the sensation, and Demetri squeezes back, just firm enough he knows you can feel the pressure of his palm on yours

· He takes you to a quiet little side road where the noise is much more faded and there is so much free space around you you feel like you can finally breathe again

· He still hasn’t stopped squeezing your hand, taking turns with you as you take some steady breaths and try to focus your senses a bit, one thing you can feel, two things you can see, three you can smell...

· “I hope you can forgive me, I did not expect the market to be so busy today with the weather like this.”

· His apology takes you completely by surprise because how would he even know you struggled with crowds? You barely know each other?

· Seeing your surprise Demetri rather sheepishly admits as to what exactly he’s been reading all those nights you’ve seen him at his desk, and you’re a little overwhelmed to realise he’s been reading about you

· Medical journals, mummyblogs, charity websites and more, if it had any information about autism and stimming he’s browsed through it and taken copious amounts of notes, observing you religiously to see what might be relevant to you and how he can help · + “I read somewhere you self-stimulate to calm yourself when you are anxious or your senses feel overwhelmed, is that what happened?” “Well, yes, actually, I…I…”

“And did it help? Taking you away from the source of stress and letting you squeeze my hand like that?”

· It had actually, you felt much calmer and Demetri’s obvious acceptance and willingness to help you manage your stimming and anxiety today were one of the first little moments you fell in love with him, looking back on it

· He didn’t stop there either. Together you sat down and made a list of all the things that you found most often triggered your stimming, and all of the things that brought you joy so he could figure out things to avoid and things you might like for your future dates

· Within hours of arriving home you’d gotten a whole new daily routine set up so you weren’t left to languish and wonder what was going to happen next

· Three days later an express shipment of your favourite smelling scented candles arrived alongside a Bluetooth speaker, supplies Demetri insisted were necessary for nice calming baths on the days your anxiety was playing up

· He started doing mindfulness practices with you in the evenings

· He never touched the volume controls for his laptop, speaker or TV, leaving it to you to control the volume so you could set it to a level you were comfortable with, and he religiously policed the noise on his floor to + “Where are you going? The movie just started…” “To tell Felix to turn his music down.” “You’re vampiring again Metri, I can’t even hear that.”

· When he signed you up for Yoga and meditation classes at a centre in town you drew the line and told him he was going overboard, but bless him he had tried

· Overall he’s a solid 15/10 for effort, even if some ideas are still experimental - you’re enjoying the deep pressure massages a lot though – and he sometimes goes a bit mother-hen trying to get you out of situations he thinks you’ll struggle with, when actually you’re coping just fine today

· You love him dearly for it

#twilight #twilight headcanon #demetri volturi #volturi headcanon #stimming #autism #tw anxiety #tw sensory overload #the volturi #twilight fanfiction #I tried my best so I hope this is okay #Demetri is totally the type to go overboard and try absolutely anything to make you comfortable

118 notes · View notes

straighttohellbuddy · 3 years

Note

World building is the best tbh. I’m forever world building and now I have several worlds to play in and my neurodivergent brain cannot stay still enough to focus on one lmao. SLOWBURN ROMANCES ARE MY LITERAL JAM LIKE PLS!!! I LOVE THEM!! Also!!!! Concepts!!!! Pls share!!!! I love learning about the worlds of my fave fics and I can hands down say right now that this fic will literally shoot to the top of my list of favourites which means you’ll occupy the top three spots. Sorry to hear that ur feeling rough, so am sending u the biggest hug. I’m not okay but I’m taking care of myself today so that I will be 🧡-🐈‍⬛

alsjfsldkjf i have too many worlds TBH, literally one of the best parts of my 2020 was writing for the classic rock fandom and writing one of my good friend’s ocs alongside mine, like there’s so many different worlds that our two characters have now, i’m like 26k deep into a high school au that i need to get back to at some point, and then i wrote a oneshot abt the high school au but they’re adults, and then there’s also the original timeline, and then there’s the present day in the original timeline where they have kids and i probably care too much about people who aren’t real...... hahaha

OKAY OKAY OKAY HERE WE GO I’LL GIVE KIND OF AN OVERVIEW OF THE ALBUMS AND A FEW SONGS BUT IF U WANT ME TO GO IN DEPTH ON ANY OTHER SONG JUST ASK!!!

yes i have a playlist for each, if you wanna hear how i interpret the vibes of the songs. if you interpret them differently, thats awesome!! i’d love to hear y’all’s opinions on them!!

testing one two - the first ep they release, the song titles are mostly themed (fast forward, press play, pause, rewind), but are mostly things y/n has been working on for a while but never got around to finishing, things they are rather proud of. i see you shiver with... is the first song they wrote specifically for the album, and it’s the last song on the EP because it’s a Rocky Horror reference; i see you shiver with...

a n t i c i p a t i o n - first full album!! the vibe is Hopeful But Hesitant it has all the songs from the ep, plus some new ones!! collabs with youtube musicians troye and dodie, and y/n’s label sets up a collab that turns into a genuine friendship. the breakout dance hit is what else is there to say ft. Troye Sivan, which is about not knowing what to make content about when it feels like you’ve already told the world everything. it featured the prechorus and hook

You, know, ev-ery-thing about me / gave it all for free / my life in HD / So, let’s dance, let me see your hips sway / we’re gonna be okay / what else is there to say?

So say that you love me, say that you love me, say that you love me / let’s die hand in hand. / I’ll tell you I love you, tell you I love you, tell you I love you / supply and demand.

personally, i also conceptually enjoy srs bsns which is a really upbeat song about how they don’t care if people don’t take them seriously because they know in their heart that what they’re doing is good

hyperfocus - 2nd EP, a pretty substantial departure from their usual style, but also happens to quietly be Corpse’s favourite, and is actually y/n’s most polarising, because it has both the Grammy award winning HEARTBURN and the o brother where art thou which was written partially as a joke to capture a fond moment of them and 5SOS dicking around together in a hotel. written while on tour wit 5SOS, im writing the reader as having ADHD (because I have ADHD and i can do what i want), and the backstory is that they’d changed the medication/dosage they were taking, and as it’s their first full tour, they were under a lot of stress and were in a weird place mentally and emotionally, and hyperfocus is the result of that. i’m going through some stuff has HUGE agoraphobic vibes.

HEARTBURN has the same vibes as Florence + The Machines’ Howl. It’s about being a demon without saying that or directly implying that unless you know demons real well. This is when the pressure for them to confirm their identity got real bad, and it was their way of working through those emotions.

tear in existence in the shape of a person / when i’m seeing clearly i can’t see myself / world can’t swallow what it can’t get it’s teeth into / got everything i wanted but i ain’t got my health

Got heart-burn--- / I’ll tear me apart / I’ll tear you apart / I’ll tear me apart.

SCREAM gets rereleased as a remixed single featuring Fall Out Boy the following year. It won the MTV music award for best collaboration in 2018.

In the time between hyperfocus and working on it, Y/N releases several singles, including a cover of Tell Him by The Exciters to be featured in To All The Boys I’ve Loved Before. They also take time to sort out their health, do a little bit more YT stuff, and travel internationally to do festivals.

working on it - is kind of a middle ground between their original stuff, and hyperfocus, like pop-punk meets horror-pop meets whatever you’d classify halsey as. the first three songs were mostly written before the fic starts, so before they’re getting back to YT, but the last three, nightmare scenario, designed to hurt (touch me), and not scared were all written after they’d started hanging out with sykkuno and corpse.

in-universe, imposter syndrome was originally something else, along the same lines of tired that they’re hiding that they’re a demon, but after meeting corpse nd sykkuno and having people who know, and lowkey being influenced by corpse’s music, the song changes directions, and YO OKAY YO::

I literally am so fucking flattered, my darling friend @bingusmode wrote lyrics for imposter syndrome and I’ve been yELLING about them ever since i’ve read them!! (also bunnie is fantastic and lovely in general 10/10)

if you thought you saw me

i’d think about it twice

cuz while i know i’m naughty

everybody thinks i’m nice

cutest giggles get me

places that i long to be

but it’s not long before

everybody hates me

when you figure out i’m fucked up

you’ll probably think that can’t be right

but babe my image runs to save me

cuz i’m ugly day and night

nothing good about me

not the angel that i seem

cuz i’m a piece of shit

and i’ll ruin your fuckin dreams

i’m an impostor babe

you better run for your life

cuz there’s a bloodlust runnin through me

and you’re dripping off my knife

there’s no one here to save you

cuz you ate up all my lies

so beg me while you can

and draft up all your goodbyes

if any of y’all are inspired by anything i put out, feel free to take it and run!! you have my blessing!! i am so overwhelmingly flattered by people who like my stuff enough to create because of it, directly or indirectly! lyrics, art, songs, anything!! legit! I love you!!

okay so designed to hurt (touch me) has big House of Memories by Panic! At The Disco vibes, and YES it’s about Corpse. YES it sends mixed messages. YES it has greek myth imagery and YES that imagery is confusing. not sure if any of these sets of lyrics actually go after each other but also idk??

will my fall from grace be graceful / as each move i see you make? / propped up on pedestals side by side / beneath our feet they shake / i’m the only one to hear you ask / “What have they done to me?” / My boy, your wax throne is sun-drenched / you’ll fall in the name of your legacy.

eyes like yours watched rome burn / while hands like mine lit the pyre / we both heard me say we’d go down in flames / now you’re turning me into a liar / since you smile like that, like you can’t feel the sting / and we both know i can’t feel the fire

been telling myself i’m designed to hurt / but, baby, aren’t we a sight? /

check your reflection, your angles, apollo / you’re icarus in the right light /

we’re on the edge, i’m not scared to fall / we’ll take refuge in the night /

been telling yourself you’re designed to hurt / but, baby, doesn’t this feel right?

also, albumtouralbumtour is a reference to Bohemian Rhapsody.

OKAY AND FINALLY

n o s t a l g i a - the album the reader’s working on during the fic.

literally as i was writing this, bunnie sent through some FIRE lyrics for how the light gets in, (@bingusmode) i am going to be thinking about these on REPEAT for the next MONTH BRUV

little bit of darkness, treat me like a toy

i got my hopes up and got them destroyed

bitter taste of regret sitting heavy on my tongue

can’t believe i let you convince me that you were the one

sitting here in silence, fabric running thin

petals burning in my lungs and stealing oxygen

embers from a cigarette falling to the floor

god i can’t take anymore

so i stumble to the window and pull the shades

and the moon pours in like you threw a grenade

i can’t understand why

i keep trying

cuz i never seem to win

but having any hope is how the light gets in

from there, moment before impact ft. Billie Eilish is a club anthem along the lines of bad guy or COPYCAT, bass heavy with a drop that’s out of this world.

powdered pain, i’m in your veins / i’m the sting, the drip, the thing / you’re craving, but you hate to see me misbehaving / i heard my breakdown got you high / it’s true, but baby i can’t lie / i never got that rush, that burn / that makes you feel alive, i had to learn / to pick the slippery slope down which i fell / plan my pitstops on the way to hell / to pick my padding before i spiral / so if i break it’ll be in style

watch my misdirect, now freeze, / notice you can’t see the forest for the trees / you’re so desperate for my demise / but baby, i’ll make you watch me rise.

this is the moment before impact

controlled chaos, crash land / take a breath, trust the plan / i know you hope i’m not okay / you get off on my audio misery

controlled chaos, crash land / take a breath, trust the plan / i need you to know i want it this way / my breakdown won me a grammy

and this is the moment before impact

ur my favourite - interlude ft. sykkuno is probably one of my favourites, it’s just really soft, just a snippet of a conversation between the reader and sykkuno, maybe one of them told a joke and they both just sound real happy and sweet. its nice. it’s a nice moment.

means something is also for sykkuno!! it’s about how good-strange it is to be open and honest with friends, and how they usually aren’t but they’re glad they can be open and honest with him!!

meanwhile, i don’t think about u - interlude ft. CORPSE is a phonecall between corpse & the reader right after they announce they’re going to feature on acting like that, where corpse asks if they do this sort of thing to spite him, to which the reader responds ‘do i consider you when i’m making decisions about my career? no, corpse, actually i don’t think about you at all’ which then directly contrasts the song that ends the album, which is (how it feels to be) beautiful fireworks, which is essentially ‘i know how hard it is to exist like this, to be the centre of attention, to give off light and bring people joy, even when you’re in pain. i’m here for you. i love you.’

okay, i swear im done now, i’ll get back to writing the fic! (also i cannot BELIVE i managed to figure out how to embed those playlists but im so happy) edit: it didn’t actually work when i posted the ask, so anyways im sorry but y’all are abt to be spammed with playlists because i care too much abt this fic

#Anonymous #how the light gets in #corpse husband x reader #black cat anon

32 notes · View notes

set-phasers-to-whump · 3 years

Text

“i can’t see”

prompt: “i can’t see”

whumpee: nick burkhardt

fandom: grimm

hi hello! this fic is set shortly after 2x15 where nick gets temporarily blinded. wonder if you can guess what might happen in this.

“You’re really running yourself into the ground for this case, huh, buddy?” Monroe asks, as Nick yawns for what feels like the hundredth time that day.

“No other choice,” Nick tells him, reaching for his coffee cup only to find it empty. He sighs and shoves it away, not having the energy to get up and get himself more.

“Still,” Rosalee chimes in, tossing aside one book and reaching for another, “when was the last time you actually slept?”

Nick shrugs. “Last night,” he answers, setting aside his own book to rub at his exhausted eyes.

“And how long did you sleep for, exactly?” Hank asks, looking at Nick innocently, like he’s expecting a reasonable answer.

“I don’t know, maybe an hour?” Nick replies, testily. “Let’s just get back to work.”

“Okay, okay,” Hank says, raising his hands in defeat. “We’ll stop.”

The four of them continue to pore through the tomes, occasionally stopping the others to get input on an idea or ask whether they think this could be what they’re looking for. It’s a fairly normal scene for the group, and ordinarily something Nick genuinely enjoys, but today he hates it. They’re all too loud and he is way too tired. But they need to solve this case, and quickly, so he’s trying his very best to ignore those two things.

Around noon, they take a break for lunch. Monroe and Rosalee head out to grab everyone sandwiches from the shop down the street, leaving Nick and Hank to discuss their case.

“Nick, come in here,” Hank calls to Nick, from the side room.

“Yeah?”

Hank’s sitting on the couch, looking at something on his phone. “Sit down,” he says, and pats the space next to him, so Nick sits.

Hank stands up as soon as Nick sits down. “Sleep,” he says, very sternly.

“Hank…”

“What? I’ll wake you up when Monroe and Rosalee get back. You’re not sleeping enough, and I know you’re focusing on this case, but you’re no good to us if you’re too exhausted to actually do anything.”

Nick grudgingly has to admit that Hank has a point. He stretches himself out on the couch and closes his eyes, finding it rather easy to fall asleep.

“We’re back!” Nick hears Monroe announce cheerfully from the front of the shop. He jerks out of a fairly deep sleep, then stands up, opening his eyes.

He opens his eyes.

His eyes are open.

Right?

He blinks a few times, rapidly, stopping in a moment where he is absolutely sure his eyes are open.

There’s nothing there.

He can’t see.

This all feels too horribly familiar. Just a few weeks ago he’d been in this very room, with worms digging into his eyes and the threat of permanent blindness looming over his head.

What if they’d been too late? What if something had happened since then? Maybe one worm had been left behind, maybe, maybe, maybe…

He can’t see.

He walks into the main room with an urgency that nearly makes him trip over his own feet.

“You good there?” Monroe asks, his voice echoing in Nick’s ears.

“I can’t see,” Nick says, quietly, like it’s a confession he doesn’t want to make.

“What?”

“I can’t see,” he repeats, feeling the fear edge its way into his voice. “I can’t see.”

He feels weird. Dizzy, kind of. Strangely weak. Cold?

It’s too much, too many things at once, the most important of which is the fact that he cannot see. He feels one of his legs buckle underneath him, and suddenly there are footsteps, too many of them all at once, blending together into one loud noise, and then there are arms around him. They feel strange against his body, too much. Too much, too much, too much.

He’s back on the couch. As soon as he realizes that, he’s shooting back up again, head spinning unpleasantly. It’s too familiar, being blind and lying on this couch.

“Wha’s happening?” he asks, hoping desperately that one of them knows. It takes him a moment to even find those words. He feels like he’s thinking underwater. He’s spinning. He needs to sit back down.

A single hand - Rosalee’s - guides him back down onto the couch, and he feels her sit next to him, too close, so that he can feel the warmth of her body. It feels incredibly uncomfortable, and he shies away. Too much.

“I don’t know,” Rosalee says, and now her voice is further away. “You said you couldn’t see.”

“I can’t. Why can’t I see?”

“I don’t know,” Rosalee repeats, her voice calm.

He knows she’s trying to sound reassuring, hears Hank and Monroe start to whisper thoughts and ideas, knows they’re all there for him, but exactly none of this makes him feel any better about it. He’s scared. Really scared. Nobody knows what’s happening to him or why but he cannot see and he keeps picturing the face of the Jinnamuru Xunte that’s been appearing in his dreams over and over.

He’s dead, Nick tries to remind himself, but logical reasoning is often dwarfed by fear, and all he can think of is a constant string of what ifs that leave him spinning.

He can’t see.

He shivers, half in fear, half in reaction to the cold feeling enveloping him. And then he can’t stop shivering, or shaking, really, and his breathing picks up speed and he can’t see can’t see can’t see -

“It’s okay, buddy.” Monroe’s voice sounds far too loud, like he’s shouting into Nick’s ears, and Nick instinctively raises shaking hands to cover them.

Hank’s hand touches his shoulder, impossibly gentle, but Nick jerks backwards anyway. It’s all too much, everything feels like it’s been amplified by a factor of ten. He supposes that’s what happens when one of your already-heightened senses gets taken away.

“Nick, hey,” Rosalee says, and her voice still grates on his ears, though he can tell from the way it sounds that she’s whispering. “You need to breathe, okay? Nice and deep.”

He tries, recognizing the importance of not working himself up to hyperventilation, but he’s not very successful. Everything is so confusing and overwhelming and frankly terrifying, so he figures he’s allowed to freak out a bit.

Still. He breathes a little, tries to get himself under control, and must do an okay job, because nobody says anything else. He hears them all get up and leave, hears them talking in the main room, but doesn’t focus on what they’re saying. Nothing good, he’s sure.

He has no idea how long they’re all out there for, but slowly, he begins to realize that their voices are returning to a normal level. He calls out to them, hears running footsteps approach.

“What’s wrong?”

“I dunno,” he says. “You’re...quieter.”

“Quieter?”

“Yeah, before you were all really loud. Now you sound...almost normal.”

Even his own voice is returning to an acceptable level. He turns his attention to the rest of himself and finds that he’s no longer shivering. He takes a deep breath that doesn’t catch in his panicked throat.

“You think it’s getting better?” Monroe asks.

“I still can’t see,” Nick tells him, which kind of scares him more than the everything else before. If the rest of his body, his senses, are going back to normal, does that mean his vision is at its “normal” state now?

“Hey, maybe it’s just taking a little longer to come back,” Hank says comfortingly, and this time, Nick doesn’t flinch away from the hand on his shoulder. That’s possible, he decides, and relaxes minutely.

“Anything yet?”

“No.”

“How long has it been?”

“Ten minutes since the last time you asked.”

“Anything?”

“No.”

He’s growing weirdly used to the fear. He can’t see. But none of them have the slightest idea as to what to do, so all they can do is hurry up and wait for something - or nothing - to happen. It’s kind of boring, and eventually even the fear itself becomes boring, normal.

Nick blinks, and suddenly there’s a smudge of light in front of him. He blinks again, making sure he hadn’t imagined it, and then again, just to really be sure.

“I can see,” he says, slowly, quietly, like if he’s too loud he’ll scare off that little smudge of light.

“Really?”

“Not much, just some light. But yeah.”

Very slowly, that light begins to resolve itself into shapes. A picture on the wall. A table. Monroe. Rosalee. Hank.

He smiles, looks closely at each of them. “I can see you,” he says. “I can see you.”

They’re all smiling at him, now, too, and asking him how he feels and if he has any idea at all as to what had happened and wondering whether they should go to the doctor? And whether they should have done that in the first place? And no, Hank, this kind of stuff isn’t the kind of stuff you can bring to a doctor, and how do you know that, Monroe? Maybe it’s not weird, or not your kind of weird anyway. And it really doesn’t matter, guys, the important thing is he can see again, and...

Nick sits there and listens to his friends talk, watches them intently, gratefully. Watches their hands gesturing, feet shifting, eyes blinking, every single movement completely visible. He sees his field of vision cloud up again, but doesn’t freak out. It’s just tears, which are more than a little embarrassing, but nobody says a thing. They just keep talking, keep moving, keep letting him look at them.

They’re the best sight he thinks he’s ever seen.

thanks for reading!! what happened to nick is called a silent migraine, which can be caused by a variety of things like stress and lack of sleep. it presents a wide variety of possible symptoms like weird vision, vertigo, confusion, etc. and the cool part is it does all this without the feeling of a headache! i thought it was so cool, and i hope you liked reading it!!

#febuwhump2021 #febuwhumpday18 #i can't see #grimm #nick burkhardt #temporary blindness #blinded #fear #my writing #i say things #did a lot of research for this too if u cant tell. had a great time!!!#also spent some time on the grimm wiki figuring out how in the hell to spell jinnamuru xunte lmao

22 notes · View notes