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alovesongshewrote · 3 years

Note

If you’re taking requests, maybe something about Doux finding the reader absolutely delirious from lack of sleep? I may or may not have gotten literally any sleep last night and although I managed to get through my morning routine pretty efficiently I FEEL my body just wiping out. I will be comatose within the hour.

Sleep, Darling | Hisirdoux Casperan x Reader

Plot: you’ve been awake for too long and it is not doing you any favours. Thank god for punk wizards who care about your wellbeing, amirite lads? (Also, the pure Irony that this is getting posted at like, 2:40 am where i am, rip me i guess)

Word Count: 2,292

Warnings: A bit of blood is mentioned in passing, the reader isn’t human and probably has adhd or smthn. Also, Friends is mentioned, like, the tv show, so that’s a thing!

A/N: if you look closely, you can actually see me projecting onto this one. I hope you got some sleep anon.

Tags: @furblrwurblr @einahpetsyarcip @sorrels-scribbling @anxious-stitcher @alive-and-afraid @animedweeb333 @douxiesdamsel @saroski05

Time isn’t real. It’s a social construct made to bring order to the general chaos that is human existence. That was why you were up at 5 a.m for the second, maybe third, night in a row. Was it healthy? Probably not, but you didn’t need sleep, you needed answers. Answers to what? Who knows at this point, honestly.

You couldn’t say you were surprised when you finally noticed the late, or early hour. You just shrugged it off and went “fuck it, all-nighter,” which was fine for the moment. But time’s a bitch, and that moment was over pretty fast. By noon, you were ready to collapse. The three cups of coffee did not help. Instead, they made you vibrate at a frequency that could quite possibly break glass. As much as this sucked for you, it was worse for your lovely friend and co-worker, Hisirdoux Casperan.

Now, our boi Douxie was and is madly in love with you, but shhh, it’s a secret. You also love him, and that’s a secret too. Neither of these secrets are well kept, and the only reason you aren’t together is general stupidity. Literally, anyone else who watches the two of you interacting can tell that you're in love. Hell, half the town assumes you’re together already. The other half keeps trying to get you together. It is not working very well. But that’s all a digression. What you really need to know is that Douxie loves you and watching you suffer from a lack of sleep was Not A Pleasant Experience. You were delirious, shaky, and constantly off-balance. You could work well enough, but it was clear that your health was not in the same zone.

The final straw came when you cut your hand on broken glass. You’d dropped a cup, and instead of using magic, you’d tried to fix the mess by hand. That plan did not work, and you received a bloody slash across your palm for your troubles.

“Ah. Fuck,” you said, thinking you were whispering but instead speaking at a normal volume.

“What’s wrong, love?”

��‘S nothing, I’ve got it,” you did not got it, especially not in this state, and Douxie had the good sense to figure that out. The blood was a pretty good hint though.

“Oh, fuzzbuckets.”

“I told you, I’m toooootally fine, there is nothing to worry about.”

“Here, (Y/N), let me help you-”

“No, no, this is, this is-” it was then that your sleep-deprived brain decided to cut off your train of thought and replace it with another, more chaotic train. You stopped talking and just stared at Douxie for a solid minute. Or at least it felt like a solid minute. Time isn’t real, remember that.

“(Y-Y/N)? You alright there, darling?”

“You’re really cute, did you know that? Like… really cute. Steve was right, you could be a model.”

“I-”

“Also, just gonna put it out there, I freakin’ love it when you call me darling. Like, I know you call most people darling, but it makes me feel special. Don’t ask why, it just does.”

Douxie wasn’t planning on asking why. He wasn’t really planning on anything. Your sleep-deprived half-confession had turned him from a capable individual into a blushing mess in less than a second. You always had that effect on him, but it looked like your exhausted state was giving you a bit of an edge.

“Oh, sorry, I made it weird. Anyway, do you think if I brewed my next coffee with Monster instead of water it would wake me up? Because I’m still tired, and it isn’t fun.”

“I- you- I’m-”

“I think I might try it, honestly.”

“Ok, how about you don’t do that,” Archie said, swooping in, literally and figuratively, to save the day, “Douxie, can you please get (Y/N)’s hand patched up? It looks quite painful and they’re dripping blood onto the carpet.”

You were, in fact, dripping blood onto the carpet. That wasn’t good, “Oh, that’s- I’m sorry.”

“Don’t fret, just go do something about that hand,” with that, Archie smacked Douxie upside the head in an attempt to snap him out of his flustered state. It was super effective!

“Ahh, yeah. C’mon, (Y/N), let’s,,, go,,, fix,,, that.”

“Ok,” you stood, too tired to protest, and followed Douxie into the back of the bookstore, which was literally just his apartment.

It was a nice place. Very cozy, very him. It made you want to curl up and take a nap, but to be fair, literally everything made you want to curl up and take a nap at the moment. Regardless, his home made you feel warm and fuzzy on the inside and you never wanted to leave it. Maybe it was the interior decorating, but you knew it was because your favourite person lived there. What you didn’t know, or didn’t realize, was that you’d just spoken your entire thought process out loud and Douxie heard every word of it. Once again, the boy was a blushing mess. If you were awake enough to process things, you would have found it cute. Or you’d be dead from embarrassment, that one is a bit of a toss-up.

Fighting through his flustered state, Douxie pulled you into the bathroom and collected a first aid kit from under the counter. While he focused on getting things done, you curled into a ball in his bathtub. For some reason, your exhausted brain decided that sitting on the edge of the bathtub simply did not Vibe™ but sitting inside the tub was better than nothing, and so you just,,, curled up there. Douxie was only a little surprised to see you there.

“(Y/N)?”

“D’you remember that time on Friends when Winona Ryder played a closeted lesbian? That was a fuckin’ trip, man.”

“(Y/N), darling-”

“That whole episode is just- it’s just strange.”

“(Y/N)-”

“Hehe, Stranger Things.”

“(Y/N), love, I need to see your hand.”

“Oh, fuck, yeah, I forgot. Here,” you sat up, extending your hand out to the wizard. He took it, sitting on the edge of the bathtub which was fine for him to do, I guess. Not you though, you were stuck in bathtub jail for sleep deprivation crimes.

You squinted up at his face as he tended to the nasty scratch you’d given yourself. You didn’t have the capacity to focus on what he was doing, so instead you focused on him. He was pretty, as you’d said before, but that was always true. At that exact moment, his brows were furrowed in concentration, his eyes concerned and his jaw set. His hands were steadier than yours could ever hope to be, especially since you hadn’t been sleeping. Overall, he looked kind of mad, so you sunk down into your bath-prison, silent and waiting for him to finish so you could get back to work.

Douxie was not mad at you. He was upset that you hadn’t been sleeping, but he wasn’t mad. He was just worried for your health. Your wizard did not appreciate seeing you shaking and sleep-deprived. He didn’t appreciate it when your current state led you to injure yourself, either.

He wrapped up your hand and gave it a small pat, “Done. Now, come on, you’re taking a nap.”

His voice surprised you. It was gentle, calm, not at all angry like you’d suspected. You found yourself so lost in it that you didn’t realize what he’d said until he said your name, trying to snap you out of whatever haze you were in.

“Oh, wait, what? No, shit, I have to get back to work-”

“No, you need sleep.”

“Sleep is for the weak, I need to go-” you stood and almost fell over. You probably would have broken something if Douxie didn’t catch you. You hadn’t exactly expected to end up in his arms today, and despite the heat rising in your face and neck, you were not complaining.

“(Y/N)-”

“I’m sorry, Douxie, I-”

“You need to sleep. Please, (Y/N), don’t make me use a spell on you.”

You froze for a second before a smirk crept onto your face, “You wouldn’t.”

“I-”

“You wouldn’t use a spell on meeeeee-” the smirk grew into a full smile as you let yourself go limp, forcing him to move his hands to support you better and pull you closer to him. Was that your plan? Maybe. Was it part of a second, bigger plan? Also yes.

“You wanna bet?”

“Sure.”

“I-” and then he went silent. There was a moment of tension where you just stared into each other’s eyes, holding your breath to see what the other person would do. Your gaze fell to his lips as his fell to yours. For that moment, your thoughts began to wander far out of your control. Douxie’s mind was also running rampant but in a different direction. You were right, he thought. He couldn't use magic on you. As far as he knew, you were a human. Just a mortal being who crawled their way into his life and stayed there, improving the quality of it greatly. If there was even the slightest chance that a spell may have negative side effects, which most sleep spells did, he wouldn’t dare risk it, especially not on you. He sighed, tightening his grip on your waist, “You’re right.”

“What?” Oop, plan going sideways, PLAN GOING SIDEWAYS!

“I’m- not going to use magic on you,” he helped you to stand, and moved to take a step back before you grabbed his hoodie and pulled him back to you, ignoring the sharp sting in your hand.

“Ok, wait, wait, wait, wait, wait, wait, wait, hang on there wizard boy-” you took a moment to pull yourself out of the bathtub entirely, “You can’t give up that easily.”

“Wha-”

“Come onnnnnn, make it fun, make it exciting. Put a spell on me or whatever, just-” you went quiet for a second, but for once you weren’t distracted. Just quiet. You had to face facts. Your plan had failed, and now you had nothing but the truth.

“(Y/N)?”

“Just make my brain stop. For just two seconds.”

“What?”

“Please. I’m running on a motor and I can’t stop myself. I haven’t slept and I have no choice in the matter.”

“(Y/N)-”

“Look, just, take away my free-will if you have to. Knock me out, magic or otherwise, I just want five seconds where I’m not on hyperdrive,” you were standing on your own now, though Douxie’s arms were still wrapped around you and you hadn’t let go of his hoodie, “Please.”

The bathroom was silent for a minute. It took that long for Douxie to process what you’d just said. You feared, for that moment, that you’d said too much. You hadn't. Not to him, anyway.

“Come on.”

“What?”

“Come on,” he said, picking you up, effortlessly sweeping you off your feet.

“Wait, what!?” your voice was slightly more frantic, surprise lacing through your words.

“There’s more than one way to get a person to sleep.”

“Oh-?”

He didn’t respond to your question, instead, he carried you out the door and into what you could only assume was his room. You had no choice but to wrap your arms around his neck and cling to him for dear life until he set you down on the bed.

“Stay here, okay? I’m going to make you some tea-”

“Wait!” you stopped him, grabbing his wrist as he turned to leave, “I’m… I’m sorry.”

“You don’t need to be sorry, my darling,” he sat in front of you on the bed, “You just need to get some sleep, okay?”

“But what about-”

“I’ll cover your shift, you don’t need to worry.”

“I-”

“Just rest, for now, love. Please.”

“Ok,” your words were a whisper, something that Douxie could only just hear. The next thing though, he didn’t have to strain to hear at all, “Yeah. I meant what I said earlier, by the way. You’re so pretty, it isn’t fair.”

He laughed at this, at you, finally seeing some humour in your shenanigans. He relaxed now knowing that you may actually get some much-needed rest. He stood, kissing your forehead and tracing the side of your face with a hand, rough from guitar strings and 900 years of sweeping.

“Worry not, love, you’re pretty too.”

“Hey, wait-”

“Don’t ‘hey, wait,’ me. You are. Now lie down, I’ll be back in a second.”

A smile crept onto your face as you followed orders. Your emo wizard man thought you were pretty. And he cared enough about you to let you sleep during work hours, in his home, no less. You let yourself relax into the bed, grinning once again. It smelled like him, like thyme and peppermint, lemongrass and sleep. It was nice, comforting. You could only vaguely think of Douxie as your brain finally took a fuckin breather. It was everything you needed, honestly.

By the time Douxie came back, you were long gone, lost to your dreams and finally asleep. He sighed a smile that matched yours on his face. He placed the cup of tea on the bedside table before grabbing a blanket out of his closet and draping it over you. You looked so peaceful. Good. You deserved some peace every now and then.

He took the cup and left you, brushing a strand of hair out of your eyes as he did. After making his exit, he placed the still-hot tea on the counter, disregarding it for now before returning to the bookshop.

“How are they?” his familiar asked, tail twisting in concern.

He gave a final fond look at the door before returning to business, “They’re just resting.” And for once, you were.

#hisirdoux x reader #hisirdoux casperan x reader #douxie x reader #douxie imagine #hisirdoux imagine #angst #fluff #hisirdoux #hisirdoux casperan #douxie #toa douxie #toa hisirdoux #tw sleep deprivation

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anightflower · 3 years

Text

Come and Find Me Chapter 6: 24 Hours

Hello my darlings, here is chapter 6 FINALLY. Thank you for letting me work on my mental health, I can’t express how much every interaction I’ve had with you has helped, whether it be a like, comment, or reblog, you guys have brought me SO MUCH JOY.

Masterlist

Spencer Reid x Reader

Warnings: Violence, swearing, mentions of rape

Spencer clenched his fists to keep his hands from shaking. “What do you mean never see her again? Don’t you dare fucking touch her-”

“Tsk, tsk Doctor, there is a lady present. Though she can’t hear us at the moment.” The voice murmured condescendingly. “But I am a fair man Doctor, I will let you speak to her, eventually.”

“Let me speak to her now.” Spencer growled.

“So demanding Doctor, but I suppose I’ll oblige you, if only because she looks so broken right now.” The voice cooed.

There was silence on the phone for a moment, the beeping of buttons and then, your voice.

“What do you want now you sick bastard?” You sounded tired, defeated. Spencer felt his heart break.

“(Y/N), can you hear me?” Spencer asked urgently. On the live feed, you head shot up and looked around.

“Spencer?” Your voice broke and tears blurred your vision. “Am I dreaming?”

“No, no! I’m coming to find you baby. I promise, this sick bastard is not going to win-” Spencer said encouragingly.

Hope filled your eyes, but quickly disappeared behind nerves. You had to tell him the last place you were. He had to find you and you didn’t know how much time you had left.

“Spence, I made it to Florida, call the hotel I was at. They might have security footage-” Your voice was cut off.

“Now, that’s no fair. She can’t help you.” The voice said angrily.

“No, put her back on the line you sick f-” Spencer yelled into the phone desperately. He could see that you were still talking on the video feed. Tears slid down his face as he watched you mouth “I love you.” You didn’t even know that he couldn’t hear you anymore.

“24 hours doctor.” The voice said and hung up. The live feed went black.

“It’s a burner phone. I could triangulate it to two cell towers, but that could put it anywhere in Miami.” Penelope explained.

The room was silent as they waited for Spencer’s reaction. His shoulders were tense, he still eyed the screen, his back completely turned to the team.

“Spencer?” JJ asked, gently coming up to him.

“JJ, I’m going to give you the number to (Y/N) hotel. I need you to get any security footage you can from them. Penelope will use face scan and analyze it.” Spencer ordered, his body still tense and unmoving.

“I’ll contact them and the local police down there, have them start looking for (Y/N) and set up a place for us at their precinct.” JJ reassured.

“I’m going to call Hotch and Rossi, I’ll tell them to meet us at the jet.” Emily said. “Maybe they got something out of Curtis that can help us out.”

Spencer nodded, unable to form words around the tightness in his throat.

“We’ll get her back Reid, and then we want a proper introduction.” Morgan teased, trying to ease Spencer.

As they all began to move to grab their go-bags, Spencer’s phone rang again.

Spencer took a deep breath, as he glanced at his phone. It was Ava’s contact.

He quickly answered it. “Ava?”

“Spencer,” Her voice sounded terrified. “I need you to come to this address, I think (Y/N)’s in danger.”

________________________________________________________________

You jumped as the door to your “room” slammed open.

“You stupid bitch!” The voice wasn’t as deep now without it’s automated assistance, but his voice was still muffled behind a mask. It was a cheap plastic Halloween mask, the one you get so you can decorate it however you want. It’s blank white stare covered his whole face.

He stalked his way toward you angrily, causing you to push yourself further back onto the bed. There was no place for you to go.

“You just couldn’t keep your mouth shut huh? You are so moon eyed over your Doctor that you fucking cheat. You whore!” He grabbed your ankles and pulled on your chains, dragging you down the bed, causing you to scream. His grip was hard enough to leave bruises.

“Do you know what happens to whores?” He growled. “They get what they deserve.”

He tried to push your legs open, but you clawed at his arms, hard enough to break your nails and draw blood. As he tried to draw his arms back, you scratched at his face, ripping the mask off and catching one of his eyes.

He let out a pained scream and backhanded you across the face. You yelped as it sent you flying back against the bed.

You quickly pushed yourself up, readying yourself if he tried to advance on you again. He was hunched over, grabbing at his face, blood leaked from where your nails had dug in.

“It wasn’t supposed to go this way.” He said enraged.

Your body froze at that voice. A voice that you knew all too well. A voice that didn’t speak much, but when it did, there was always a smile on his face.

“No.” You whispered softly.

________________________________________________________________

Andrew Curtis, 29 years old, 6’4. Auburn hair, brown eyes, and a friendly smile that had made women trust him when he had come into their home.

The man in front of him was smug, too smug for someone who is going to be behind bars for the rest of their life. Hotch wished he could tackle him to the floor and wipe the gleeful look off of his face.

5 innocent women, almost 6. Women with families and lives just wiped from the world because of the sick bastard in front of him.

“Oh Agent Hotchner, Agent Rossi, what brings you to my humble abode? I’ve recently redecorated, I hope you like it.” Andrew Curtis laughed.

Hotch and Rossi didn’t deign to respond, hiding their disdain behind a stern blank mask.

“Ouch, so cold as always, here I was hoping something interesting happened for you to come visit me.” Curtis said with a pout.

“Rumor has it you’ve been receiving letters from an outside anonymous fan, care to enlighten us more about him?” Rossi said, voice cold.

“Not even a greeting, a little catch up? How is the rest of the team, Prentiss, JJ,- oh and my dear favorite doctor Reid.” Curtis purred.

“I did always find your connection to Reid fascinating, you only let him talk with you and a little bird told us you keep newspaper clippings about him and much of his thesis and research work.” Rossi pushed, ignoring Curtis’s taunts.

“Oh my guards are such gossips, but I suppose there's not much else to keep them entertained around here.”

Hotch let out a growl. “Let’s skip the games Curtis. You know you have nothing over us, you’re locked here for the rest of your miserable existence and then some. We will not be your source of entertainment. Who have you been communicating with?”

“You know, I never thought you guys would catch me, and it truly took a toll on me when you did. But I had a small victory knowing that you had gotten some of my profile wrong.” Curtis smiled and it made ice fill Hotch’s veins.

“Oh and how is our profile wrong? You’re still in a cell aren’t you? Everything we said turned out to be correct.” Rossi said confidently.

“You might have profiled me correctly dear Rossi, but I am afraid you missed a small crucial detail.” Curtis hummed proudly.

��And what would that detail be.” Hotch urged.

“The kind that costs ya Hotchner. Maybe a nicer cell, with a little less security.”

Hotch and Rossi exchanged a look. Could it be worth it?

Hotch dipped his chin in agreement. Yes, if only for Reid.

“We will see what we can do.” Rossi said slowly.

A smug look crossed Curtis’s face as he leaned back in his chair, satisfied. He looked like the cat that got the cream and the male Agents across from him hated it. “Allow me to let you divine profilers know, that you were wrong and that you might have caught me, but you did not catch my prodigy.” His victorious laugh bounced off the walls, grating the tense room.

“Your prodigy?” Hotch probed, his voice dangerously low, a sign that he would explode if he wasn’t careful. Rossi gave him a side glance, an attempt to remind Hotch to keep a steady head.

“Oh yes, it’s a thrill really, knowing that he is still out there, maybe he already has a new victim! But guessing by the fact that you are here, he already took someone, didn't he? Did he leave a calling card?”

Rossi and Hotchner remained silent and stern faced.

Curtis cackled, ”He left my calling card didn’t he? Your faces say it all! Oh boy, he really is my best student.”

“Who is he Andrew? We need a name-”

“He finally did it, he got the girl didn’t he?”

“Got who?” Hotch asked. “Curtis is a narcissist, play to that and he will give everything up in no time.” Rossi reminded him before they went into the room.

“Your dear Doctor’s girl! He left hints, but I wasn’t sure that the kid had it in him to be honest, he always seemed too soft.”

“You sure talk a mean game for someone who doesn’t know what’s going on.” Hotch growled, knowing this would rouse up Curtis.

“Oh come now Hotch, don’t play coy with me.” Curtis growled, “He’s got (Y/N), pretty (Y/C/H) haired thing, who if my little brother didn’t care so much for, would have been one of my own victims.”

“This prodigy is your little brother?” Rossi asked, not allowing Curtis to find out if he was right or not.

“No, not blood related, just someone I took under my wing.”

The door to the interrogation room opened and a guard popped his head in. “Agent Hotchner, you have an urgent call from an Agent Prentiss?”

“Of course, excuse me.” Hotch said, getting up and making his way out of the room.

He came back less than a minute later. “Agent Rossi, they’ve found a lead.”

Now it was Rossi’s turn to smirk. “Looks like we won’t be needing you after all Curtis, but do enjoy your current view.”

Curtis growled and yanked at his chains.

Rossi rolled his eyes as he got up to leave.

Right as Rossi was about to leave the room, Curtis’s voice piped up, “Nothing brings me more joy than knowing I tricked you, that you profilers failed to figure out that I didn’t work alone. Your devout profiling method was wrong and now my prodigy lives on, achieving his dreams, and ruining you and your doctor in the process.”

Rossi slammed the door shut to block out Curtis’s manic laughter.

________________________________________________

I was thinking of doing a permanent taglist for all of my fics, if you’d like to become a part of it please let me know!

TAGLIST

@andiebeaword @haylaansmi @parkastoria @possessedjoker @amronsparty @generaltheoristexpert @sierraraeck @coniumalces @tamedbyafox @anotherr-fine-mess @adoregin @rainsong01 @canyonnmoonn @mggshoe @boxofsparklingmuses @richardpapensmuse @deanlenaz @rainsong01 @goldentournesol @annesauriol @itsametaphorbriansblog @secretpickleprofessordean @shameleswhorehourstm @stepsofthefbi @iifloweringnightsii @mggsprettygirl @bravegirl221 @messyhairday-me @n1ghtsh4d3-67 @abbeypaw7 @findmedontlooseme @hiiwouldlikesomesleepplease @sarcasticsagittarius1998 @ajeff855 @astronomynous

#spencer reid #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid smut #spencer x y/n #spencer reid x reader #Criminal Minds #Criminal Minds Fanfiction #criminal minds x reader #anightflowerwrites #anightflower writes #anightflowermasterlist #anightflowers masterlist

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angieschiffahoi · 3 years

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Before I start Harrow, I want to share my thoughts on Gideon.

Spoilers ahead.

While I don’t believe it was the greatest book ever written, it was perfectly fitting for me.

The genre: It was a mix between sci-fi and fantasy, very simple in its worldbuilding, it didn’t shy from some exposition (I hate new fantasy books that don’t use exposition at all... you’re not that good at the spreading the information thingy, I don’t understand your overly complicated worldbuilding!) and used it in pretty much conventional ways. It didn’t invent every single tiny little thing (which I find very annoying in modern fantasy and sci-fi books - let your MC say fuck), but mixed things familiar with our world with future/innovative elements, almost seamlessly. Thank you, Tamsyn, for using insults we know (I understand why TV shows do it, it’s to keep a PG-13 rating and still use swear words, but I find it insufferable when books try to invent terms for everything... even pens or bread).

I’ve seen people say it is heavily sci-fi and I disagree. It is not hard sci-fi in the slightest and the magical/necromantic elements are a lot more technical than any of the technology, which was basically non-existent (at times I was stunned whenever they mentioned anything that was “modern” or techy, since it felt like fantasy 80% of the time). The author built a magic system and tried to fit it into a sci-fi setting. It very much resembled Warhammer 40k at times (come on, the Undying Emperor?) and had they mentioned Chaos Gods every now and then, I would have believed this was a WH 40K novelette a-la Blackstone Fortress.

The plot: Gay necromancers in space, with a plot similar to And Then There Were None which at times felt a little bit like Catching Fire as well (Tamsyn, did you read my diary?). It was very simple, straightforward and the fact that we only had one narrating voice made it very easy to read and to follow along. The fact that it was a bit cinematic is probably the reason I managed to finish it (I am tired of 100 subplots and 200 characters in the same book). All of the plot twists felt earned, because looking back I can see where the author left those crumbs. I feel like the red herrings were a bit weak (except Ianthe at the end, which was a bit disappointing as the main villain so I was glad to see she was one), because I started to suspect Dulcinea right away (even though I never would have guessed why). Also, I was too focused on the characters to actually pay attention to the plot, so I didn’t guess much going forward, which made me feel pretty stupid, because some of that shit was very obvious.

The characters: What I really loved was Gideon’s voice. The first few chapters were a bit flowery and there was a lot of purple prose to set the tone (which failed a bit, because I still imagined it more as a fantasy setting than a sci-fi one), but then it flawed perfectly. The jokes (narrated or spoke aloud) were great and it felt like they always fit. Sometimes the insults were a bit gratuitous but I like the trope of being infuriated with someone all of the time, you can’t help but think “oh fuck this bitch”. Also, the puns. Gideon, I love you. I would’ve liked them to be more mature (maybe 20 somethings), but it’s because I’m old and I want this type of narratives to have older MCs sometimes.

Harrow really picked up in the second part of the book and I can’t wait to see how she’s changed in the second one. Loved Dulcinea from the start and I don’t care she was an evil god-like entity. She was a bit over the top in the battle (that thing about the arms and legs, why?!?), but I do love a dramatic bitch (I still lowkey like her & Gideon together). I was sorry for the Fourth & Fifth houses, but while I loved Magnus, I couldn’t stand the teenagers (but I did feel so, so sorry for Gideon). The Third house was obnoxious and I enjoyed Corona the most. I’m pretty sure Ianthe’s coming back, so we’ll see about that. Not gonna talk about the Eight - gave me WH 40K Inquisitor vibes, felt unneccessarily over the top. The Second was forgettable, I didn’t even understand the captain was a necromancer until she killed Teacher. And Sixth, oh, my darlings. If Camilla is dead I’m going to burn my kindle. Writing wise, concentrating on only one POV, kind of underdevelops secondary characters, so while Gideon’s voice was very strong, I feel like everyone else was a bit forgettable unless Gideon spent time on them. It was a book that could’ve easily been written in first person, if it didn’t have that ending.

The relationship: I am going to be brief - I love rivalry that turns to love (any kind of love). So, I loved every single interaction between Harrow and Gideon (the pool scene broke me). Palamedes and Harrow had chemistry. I loved that Gideon just adopted everyone: I am your cavalier, now I am yours! Oh, screw it! I’m going to protect everyone! Gideon is such a himbo, even though she’s a shembo, but not a bimbo? I hated every single time the Third called their cavalier “Babs”.

Things that were left open and Tamsyn better solve before the end of the series: “Gideon, you’re a ginger!” and basically everything fake!Dulcinea told Gideon about her past (”You don’t know what you are to me”). Also, why Gideon didn’t die when she was a child (and the obvious, where is she from?). Where are Corona and Camilla? What happened to Gideon’s body? And a few things I forgot about, because I wrote this “review” yesterday in my head and I didn’t write stuff down.

Overall it was a very pleasant experience. And I may re-read it in the future to catch the foreshadowing and some hints. Now, onto Harrow the Ninth! Which is confusing? ‘Cause the Emperor called her Harrow the First?

Anyways. We love a tiny goth stirring shit with her “dead” girlfriend’s two-hander. I am a bit scared, though, since what I really loved was Gideon’s narrating voice, but I’m guessing Harrow picked up some of her mannerism since she “ate” her? We’ll see.

#gideon the ninth #gideon the ninth spoilers #spoilers #angie rants #ignore #the locked tomb #gideon nav #harrowhark nonagesimus #griddlehark

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jalapeno-princess · 4 years

Text

Case Closed

Lawyer Mark X Reader

Word Count: 9K (I got carried away with this one but I always get carried away when it comes to Mark)

Genre: Angst/Fluff with a hint of sexual themes

Summary: You’re a receptionist at a law firm and you’re currently attending law school in the hopes of becoming a criminal defense lawyer. Unfortunately, one of the lawyers at the law firm already seems to take a disliking to you during the hiring process and you have a hard time understanding why. Little do you know, the reason why Mark seems to hate you so much, is because he’s actually in love with you.

A/N: The idea of lawyer Mark is so hot wtf hahahaha thanks for the request @tuanhood I hope you enjoy!

“Thank you for calling James and Dean Law firm, this is y/n how may I be of assistance?”

Being a receptionist at a law firm was not the ideal job you would’ve wanted after graduating from your university with your bachelor’s degree in criminal justice. However, you had just been accepted in to one of the top law schools in the country and you felt as if the best way you could learn a thing or two about how the law works, was by working alongside other lawyers.

There were three lawyers that you were currently working for; Park Jinyoung who dealt with family law, Choi Youngjae who dabbled in both bankruptcy and personal injury law and Mark Tuan, a criminal lawyer. When you were first interviewed for the position, all three lawyers had prepared multiple questions for you to make sure you were the right candidate for the job.

Both Jinyoung and Youngjae made it well aware that they liked you. They would not stop complimenting your bright and bubbly personality, how you’ve accomplished so much in the few years of your college career and how they felt like you had a great head on your shoulders.

Unfortunately, Mark wasn’t as kind as his two other colleagues. He looked at you like you were the dirt under his expensive dress shoes. He also asked you questions that made you sit and think for a few minutes before actually answering them in fear of saying the wrong thing.

Throughout the interview, you tried your best to put on a poker face and to make it seem like you were unbothered by the hostile way Mark was acting towards you. Even Youngjae and Jinyoung began to look at him in confusion with how rude and uptight he was being. Mark was an extremely kind and soft spoken kind of guy. That’s why a lot of people had a hard time understanding why he chose criminal law out of the many different types of law there were. However, when it came down to it, Mark was very passionate about his craft. He put in so much time, dedication and hard work in to every single case that he worked on and he wanted to make sure you’d be able to handle the work that you’d have to deal with if you ended up getting the job.

He’s spent so many hours staying up, studying, reading and doing his research as both an undergrad and a grad student and worked extremely hard to get to where he was today. Law school wasn’t easy. In fact, out of his graduating class, only 8 of the 300 students actually became lawyers. Mark Tuan wanted nothing but the best, so he had to make sure Jinyoung and Youngjae were hiring you for all the right reasons and not just because you were personable and had a college degree.

When you got the call a few days later that you were hired, as excited as you were, you couldn’t help but feel a little discouraged. You had yet to learn about your future employers, but you couldn’t help but feel as if Mark had already taken a disliking to you. Did you really want to work in a place where you were unwanted by one of the owners of the law firm? At the time, you could only hope that he was coming off as such an asshole in order to get you to take your job seriously. However, after working with the company for almost four months now, you came to learn that Mark Tuan was a selfish, narcissistic asshole who didn’t care about anyone but himself.

Youngjae and Jinyoung were extremely down to earth people and very patient with you. They took the time to help you get settled in to your position and always offered to help you if and when you had any questions. Mark made it aware that he wanted nothing to do with you unless he really had to and you had a hard time understanding why he was so cold towards you. You saw the way he interacted with the two other lawyers. You didn’t think someone as cold and standoffish as him was capable of such an adorable, contagious and high pitched laugh. Even when his clients came in to see him, he was nothing short of a gentlemen. But when it came to you, he barely even acknowledged your presence.

You were upset when you found out that he was in the field that you were planning to go in to. Out of all the types of law there were, why did he choose to go in to the one you wanted? You wanted to be able to work one on one with someone in your same field and be able to observe them as they did their job so you could get a taste of what being a criminal justice lawyer was like. But you know there was no way Mark would ever let you sit in on one of his meetings or even show you the ropes of criminal law.

Youngjae and Jinyoung were aware of the fact that you were going in to law and they offered to help you in any way that they could. They were also very kind and apologized to you for the way Mark would treat you, but you accepted it for what it was and got used to Mark’s harsh behavior. What bothered you the most, was that you couldn’t find it in yourself to hate him no matter how badly you wanted to.

Something about his closed off and cold exterior attracted you. You wanted to know why he seemed to loathe you so much. Was it something you said? Did? You also despised the fact that you were physically attracted to him. Sure, Jinyoung and Youngjae were both extremely good looking and their kind and generous personalities made them look even more attractive than they already were. However, Mark was devastatingly good looking. He was a sight for sore eyes.

You’d find yourself looking at him whenever he’d leave his office door open and if he came outside to greet one of his clients. He was also very muscular and built. His dress shirts practically clung to his biceps like a second skin and you’ve found yourself daydreaming about him taking out all his anger and hatred for you on you up against his desk on multiple occasions but you couldn’t think like that. This man despised you and treated you inhumanely. There was no way you’d allow yourself to develop feelings for him. He didn’t deserve respect, kindness or love from you since he could barely give that himself.

As the days went by, you went back and forth between school and work and you were so overwhelmed by the amount of workload that you had. Jinyoung offered to cut down your hours but before you could accept his offer, Mark scoffed and rolled his eyes at you in disgust.

“If she can’t handle such a small amount of work, what makes her think she’ll last a day being a lawyer? Might as well drop out now.”

You attempted to hold back the tears from falling but you knew it was impossible. You were doing the best that you could in both your education and your work ethic. How dare he try and make you feel like you weren’t worthy of becoming a lawyer? You apologized to Jinyoung before storming out of the firm and making your way to your apartment. Since you left so abruptly, you failed to witness Jinyoung storm in to Mark’s office nor did you get to hear Jinyoung yelling at his colleague for the way he’s been treating you.

“Y/n is the best receptionist we’ve had so far. She practically dedicates her life to her studies and to this job. She does everything we ask her to and then some. I’ve never heard her complain once about the stress that she’s under nor has she made any comments about how much of an asshole you’ve been to her. Every time you treat her so cruelly, she never fails to keep a smile on her face and respects you even if your bitch ass doesn’t deserve it. I know it bothers her and I’ve seen the smile fall from her face every time you belittle her and make her feel incompetent. You’ve never been this hostile to any of our other receptionists before, so what could y/n have possibly done for you to hate her so much?”

She’s gotten me to fall in love with her.

Since the day that you walked in to their law firm, with your silky, long hair, beautiful brown eyes, porcelain skin, the prettiest heart shape lips and a smile Mark was sure could cure cancer, he knew he was fucked. When he decided to become a lawyer, he felt as his he was sacrificing his entire social life by choosing such an elite career. He didn’t care about anyone or anything other than his profession and he wasn’t going to let anyone, especially someone like you for that matter get in the way of everything he’s worked so hard for. Your bright and extremely positive personality lit up the entire room and it took every bone in his body not to show you how much of an affect you were having on him.

He knew it was wrong of him to be so mean to you and he hated being so rude to you when you were nothing but polite and gentle with him. Mark thought by being so cold to you, that his feelings for you would disappear and maybe you would hate how hostile he was being towards you and end up paying him no mind; making it easier for him to focus on his job. However, whenever he would lash out on you, you never failed to smile at him and continue to do your tasks like nothing was wrong. Mark didn’t think a perfect person existed, that was until he met you.

You were everything Mark could want in a significant other and more. So much more. You were hardworking, headstrong, charismatic, fun-loving and a breath of fresh air. He’s witnessed how close you seemed to be with the two other lawyers and he wanted nothing more than to share the same bond with you that you did with them, but his pride and his ego wouldn’t allow him to. But if what Jinyoung said was true and that the way Mark had been treating you for the last few months actually bothered you, he knew something had to change or else their law firm would lose one of their best employees all because of him.

After receiving an earful from Jinyoung for almost 20 minutes, he began to come up with ways to apologize to you. However, he didn’t want you finding out that he felt bad for the way he’s been acting towards you because he had feelings for you. No matter how much Mark wanted to admit his feelings for you, he couldn’t jeopardize his position and job title for something as unreasonable as a relationship. He also felt that you would consider his feelings to be a joke. How could he be in love with you if he was treating you so rudely?

There was no way you’d believe him if he told you, so he stuck with a simple apology. You didn’t come in to the office for two days and Mark knew he was the reason why. A part of him wanted to reach out to you and to call you, maybe even invite you out for some coffee but he didn’t want to make it known that he cared.

When you finally returned back to work on Friday, you ignored Mark entirely. You didn’t greet him like you normally did, you avoided eye contact with him and whenever he tried to speak up, you would always try to divert the conversation. Now he understood how you must’ve felt and he hated himself for being the reason you were obviously unhappy. After contemplating his next moves, he decided to call you in to his office when he saw that both Youngjae and Jinyoung had left for the day. He thought you were gone too, but then he saw the light from the little lamp on your desk and took that as the sign to make things right between the two of you.

When you heard the phone ringing and saw his caller id, you released a frustrated sigh and actually thought about letting the phone ring; but you knew it would make him even more upset with you so you found yourself answering it.

“Is there something you need sir? I was just about to head home for the day.”

His stern yet raspy voice sent shivers down your spine and although you had negative feelings for him, you knew you’d do anything he’d ask you to. “Come to my office. We need to talk.”

You could feel the nerves building up inside of you as you furrowed your brows. What exactly did he need to talk to you about? After releasing a few deep breaths, you slowly made your way in to his office. You have never been in to his office before. He never gave you the chance to. If he ever needed something, he’d come outside to you and although it was an unspoken rule, you knew not to go anywhere near his office. For some reason, it was the type of office you expected him to have. It suited him. He was obviously a neat freak unlike Jinyoung and Youngjae. All his books seemed to be in alphabetical order, there was nothing colorful in there but the birds of paradise plant sitting next to the window and he had a nice view of the cityscape.

You weren’t going to lie, he looked alluring. His tie was loose and a few of the buttons on his dress shirt were undone. His hair was also quite messy and it was obvious that he must’ve ran his fingers through it a few times during the day. You bit down on your bottom lip to prevent you from drooling. Why did someone who looked like an actual Greek god have the personality of a jerk?

“Have a seat.” His voice, for the first time since you’ve met him was gentle and soft. Where was the Mark Tuan you knew who hated your guts and who was this imposter? “I’d like to apologize for the way I’ve been acting towards you for the last few months. I’m not a bad guy y/n. I don’t know why I’ve been such an ass—well, I do. But it doesn’t matter. I just want to say I’m sorry, and that I’ll try to work on my attitude. That is all. You’re free to go.”

You scoffed in disbelief. Out of the three lawyers, Mark had you do the most work. For someone who treated you like shit and like you were incapable of multitasking and completing all the work that they would give you, he expected quite a lot from you. This was the apology that you were receiving? How pathetic. It was extremely half assed and you had a feeling he wasn’t being genuine. When Mark noticed your now frustrated expression, he looked at you in confusion.

“What? Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Really? You think that your pathetic excuse of an apology is going to be enough to replace the mental and verbal abuse you’ve put me through in the last few months? If so, you have another thing coming for you. I’ve done every single thing you’ve asked me to. No matter how hard the task was and no matter how unreasonable the request was. I don’t know what I did for you to hate me so much, especially since I’ve been nothing but nice to you but I’m sorry. For whatever it was that I did. But I won’t apologize for working my ass off to impress you and to be the best employee that I can be. I actually looked up to you. You’re one of the best criminal lawyers in this industry. I work my ass off at school and when I’m working here just so I could be even half of an amazing lawyer as you. I see how determined you are when you plan out your cases and how much time and effort you put in to looking for evidence to support your client and I find it very admirable.” You released a quick breath before continuing.

“But you’re one of the biggest assholes I’ve ever met. How can you belittle and discourage someone who has the same dream as you? Where is the logic in that huh? I used to question my worth because of you. I used to stay up some nights and cry over the thought of not being adequate enough to become a lawyer because of what you said. You want to know something Mark? I’m not incompetent or any less of a hard worker than you are. I’m one of the most hardworking and determined people in this damn field and you know what else? You can take your apology and shove it up your ass because I don’t need it. I quit.”

He didn’t know that someone as kind, friendly and full of life was capable of such disgust and anger. But he couldn’t blame you. Anyone in their right minds would’ve quit the minute he treated them the way he treated you. Although it was obvious you were fuming from his lack of words and emotion, he found your attitude to be very hot and extremely sexy. He didn’t care anymore, he was willing to give up his pride if it meant being the lucky man who gets to love you.

Before you could walk out the door, he beat you to it and slammed the door shut. “I’m sorry, what did you say? Take my apology and shove it where?”

He had you trapped in between his hands on either side of your face. He lowered his lips to your ear and chuckled softly against it causing the hairs on the back of your neck to rise at the sensation. “If I’m going to shove anything anywhere, it’s my cock down your tight little throat. You understand me?”

Your eyes widened at his words and you attempted to push at his chest in order for him to get off of you although you wanted the complete opposite. He didn’t deserve your feelings and you weren’t going to allow him to take advantage of you no matter how badly you wanted him to.

“Let’s see how good of a criminal lawyer you would be shall we? If a wife murders her husband as an act of self defense but there isn’t enough evidence to prove that this murder was an act of self defense and not preemptive, would the court find her guilty or not guilty? And on what grounds?” You couldn’t believe that he changed the subject so quickly and you couldn’t find it in yourself to respond. Your mind was clouded with what he just said about face fucking you and it seemed to be the only thing you could think about.

“Hmmmm, too much? Okay, how about this one. A driver is going 40 miles over the speed limit in order to get his pregnant wife to the hospital. Should the judge let him go because he has his obvious reasons for speeding? Or does he go to jail for breaking the law?” As he continued to ask you questions, one of his hands made their way down to your waist as the other one slipped inside the back of your blouse. His fingertips were cold against your skin and it sent a bolt of electricity through your veins.

“Unlike a court, I would definitely order specific performance of a contract for service. Especially if it were oral. Hmmmm, someone’s being awfully quiet. Should I give you a reason to be loud baby?” Was this all really happening right now? What was going on? You had to be dreaming. “Y/n.” He brought his fingers up to your face and tilted your head so that you were making eye contact with him.

“You drive me insane you know that? Completely mad. I’m genuinely sorry for how I’ve been treating you and I know it’s no excuse, but it was because I was afraid of falling in love and I’m no longer ashamed to admit that my biggest fear came true. You might have a hard time believing it, especially because my actions and words said otherwise, but I am head over heels in love with you. Ever since you walked in here that day with your head held high and a huge smile on your face, I couldn’t keep my eyes nor my mind off of you. I’ve never felt this way about anyone before. I’m sorry for being such an asshole to you before even getting to know you. I just thought it’d be easier for me to stay away from you if I continued to be a prick and get you to hate me anyways but no. You never let my bad attitude get in the way of being the hardworking and extremely talented person that you are. I’m sorry if I ever discouraged you or made you feel any less special that you actually are. You are an ethereal being y/n. Whenever I look at you, I see myself when I was a fresh out of college undergraduate with dreams of opening my own law firm.”

He smiled softly to himself when he felt you relax under his touch and lowered both of his hands to your hips. “You’re one of the most positive, energetic and diligent people I’ve ever met. I see how passionate you are about becoming a lawyer and the light in your eyes never fails to make my heart flutter. You never cease to amaze me y/n. If it’s any consolation, I’m sure you’re going to become a wonderful lawyer. I think you’re wonderful. You’re the most beautiful girl I’ve ever met on the inside and out. I think I was so mean to you because I could never get you off of my mind. I lose my sanity whenever I’m around you. I can’t think straight when I see you in these tight pencil skirts and sheer blouses that leave little to the imagination. I’ve been slacking on a lot of these cases because all I can think about is you. I understand if you hate me and think I’m a terrible person. I am. And you have every right to have negative feelings about me. If you don’t feel the same about me, we can forget that this whole conversation happened and I’ll forget about everything that you said. But I’d do anything to repay you for all that you’ve done for me and to earn your forgiveness for all the wrong I’ve done to you. If you want to start over, we can do that too. And you don’t have to make the decision now. I know it will take some time for you to forgive me and to trust me, but I’ll wait for you for as long as you need me to.”

You looked up at him and you knew by the look in his eyes that he meant every single word that he said. There were so many thoughts going on in your mind about his feelings for you and you weren’t to sure how to respond to all of that. You had a hard time processing the fact that he loved you. How could he treat you so harshly if he loved you? Even if he didn’t want to give up his beliefs of making his job his main priority, why did he have to be so cold towards you? It wasn’t like you’d allow him to give up on everything he’s achieved so far. If anything, you’d be of more help and support to him if he gave you the chance to.

A part of you wanted to go home and give yourself some time to think before making a decision you’d regret down the line. However, with the way he was looking at you with so much love and admiration in his eyes, you knew he was worth forgiving and risking it all for. Once he saw you nod in agreement, he didn’t give you time to do anything else before connecting your lips together. As much as Mark could irritate you sometimes, you always found yourself wanting to know how it felt like to kiss him and now that you knew, you would never get enough.

His hands began toying with your blouse as he continued attacking your lips with his. You knew exactly what he had planned for the two of you and you had no plans on stopping him.

“Mark—“ he grunted against your chest.

“Yes baby?” You smiled in to the kiss before pulling away to take a good look at him. You brought your fingers up to his hair and playfully ruffled it before taking his bottom lip in between your teeth.

“Say it again.”

“Say what?” You gave him the most adorable frown and he snickered at you, knowing exactly what you were referring to. “You haven’t even said it yet.” You crossed your arms in frustration.

“I think after all these months of putting up with your hostility, I deserve—“ the trace of wet kisses against the juncture of your neck broke you out of your complaint.

“I—love—you. I’m so fucking in love with you. You’re mine y/n.” You moaned against his chest and the sound went straight to his hardened and extremely painful cock.

“I love you too—you prick.” He giggled softly before picking you up and bringing you towards his desk.

“Can I be honest with you? I’ve dreamt about you taking me up against this table on multiple occasions. I’ve always wanted you to take your anger out on me while fucking in to me at a rough pace.” He clenched his jaw at the idea and cupped your cheek with his hand.

“Trust me baby, there were many naughty scenarios that go on in my head every time I saw you bend over with this beautiful ass of yours on display. Fuck, I can’t process the fact that you’re finally mine. I’ll take good care of you baby, I promise. Now, I believe that it's in our best interest to comply with section 69 of the act. Shall we?”

#got7 imagines #got7 #got7 mark #mark tuan #got7 angst #got7 fluff #got7 drabbles #got7 smut

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ilovebeingcalledawhore · 4 years

Text

GAUCHE | RENJUN

Content: Fluff, School au

Summary: Getting a job at Seoul Metropolitan Library was a way for you to break out of your routines, you didn’t know that humming just a little too loudly in a three floored library could get you to meet your next boyfriend.

Note: Tell me if you want another part + the places written in this one shot were searched up and are real, the exact location is inaccurate.

Warning: I use British spelling.

ONE-SHOT

[3:59 pm] Seoul Metropolitan Library, July 20 2020

I hummed excitedly as I glided into the three-floored library beside our university. Guess who got a part time job? Yes, me! I greeted the woman up front who gave me a little grin back, it was halfhearted but that didn’t matter much, I was finally going to get to do something apart from sitting in my room and shoving my nose into my laptop.

“You’ll end in two hours, your first job is to dust off the shelves on the second floor” the woman said whilst handing me a full black duster. Pretty fancy not gonna lie. “Got you” I pulled it off her grip as we exited the locker room, where I placed my bag.

As I walked up the stairs, I realised that maybe saying “Got you” was a little unprofessional. Making mistakes on your first day will always be a time to remember, I shrugged it off then approaching the first shelf in sight. The shelves were wooden but it was the fancy type of wood, this one shined.

There were also different coloured sofas and bean bags all around the place. That’s when I realised that the woman didn’t even give me a tour! Rude! I scowled but continued to wipe the dust off. It was a calm time for me, casually humming, performing little sways here and there, besides there wasn’t anyone on the second floor...I thought.

“You should hum quieter” The voice was calm and monotone but there was a hint of annoyance in it. I halted and turned my head, feeling the presence behind me. It was a guy around my age, I think I’ve seen him exiting the art block before. He wore a white hoodie and washed denim pants.

He carried a sketchbook in his arm and held the strap of his gray bag in the other. “I’m sorry” I gave him a little grin as an extra sprinkle of sincerity to my apology but he ignored it and walked away. “Jerk” I whispered under my breath, not enough for him to hear.

____

[4:30 pm] Seoul Metropolitan Library, July 21 2020

Today’s my second day of work and my new job is to scan books that are being borrowed. Apparently, around 30 books are borrowed and brought back everyday. On exam, project and holiday seasons, it goes up to 80. Well, this was beside a university anyway.

I sat there excitedly, the scanner just a perfect centimetre away from me. I might have a really cute guy come up and borrow a book and maybe ask for my number! The thought made me excited and I couldn’t help but fantasise about it even more. “Excuse me, stop daydreaming” my thoughts were cut off and a brief second of worry filled my mind.

In front of me was the same guy from yesterday, this time in a plain black shirt and gray sweatpants. Did he look good? Yes, Was he here to borrow a book? Yes, Would I have a crush on him if he wasn’t a jerk? Yes, but was he a jerk? Totally.

I pulled the book off his grip and placed it’s bar code in front of the scanner, after the little beep, I gave it back. “Write your name here” I nudged the white piece of paper to him and I watched as he calmly filled in the blanks.

——

[8:05 am] Yonsei University, July 22 2020

Surprise! No work for today but as usual, there’s school. I pouted tiredly as I dropped my science book down the gray table. Today’s lecture is for applied science. The reason why I’ve always had my nose stuck in my books and laptop was because I was studying.

I honestly enjoyed it, the tiring nights and the good grades you get back right after. It gives me a sense of achievement, like my purpose for the day has been fulfilled. I was already five minutes late but as usual, my teacher is completely non-existent; or would walk in with a cup of coffee in, three, two, one.

“Good morning class” the sound of her heels hitting the hard floor made me sit up, getting ready for whatever topic she’s going to talk about. “As you all may know, today the term gets cut so some students change subjects and I highly advise you not to do the same. Let’s welcome our new students!”

She signalled them to come in and I honestly expected dozens because applied science was pretty popular here but instead, only two entered.

A pretty girl with a classic dress, looking like she was going to ace every single test given and a guy, wearing a half-way buttoned up white shirt and black pants. His figure was way too familiar and I figured that I may know him, so I squinted my eyes a little tighter ‘cause I have shit eyesight and there he was. The same guy from the library.

_____

[4:00 pm] Seoul Metropolitan Library, July 23 2020

“You’ll be working with someone new today and since you’ve done well adjusting to this new environment, you can give HIM a tour”

Him? It’s a guy? My eyes followed the senior librarian’s pointed finger and there he stood before me.

“I’m not saying it’s kinda creepy that you’re everywhere but it’s fucking creepy that you’re everywhere” I said to him, placing my hands on my hips with furrowed brows, shamelessly showing suspicion to his actions. “Oh please, it’s not like you’re attractive enough for me to stalk” he scowled at me.

“Well first of all, I’m one of the most beautiful people you’ve ever met and boy, you can’t deny it” I did an invisible hair flick because my hair was in a bun. “You wish” he uttered and the librarian shook her head at us. “It’s his first day stop bickering” those were the last word’s she said before walking away.

_______

[4:29 pm] Seoul Metropolitan Library, July 30 2020

It’s been a week since I’ve been working with him, we’ve not made much interaction considering the fact that ever since his first day he’s been labelled as my enemy. I continued dusting off the shelves while he dusted the ones beside mine (with our fancy black dusters) but that’s not the point.

“Excuse me?” A soft, small and high voice alerted me. I turned my head to the side and saw this pretty girl holding a book and pointing towards it, she was asking Renjun a question, yes now I know his name. “Where can I find the second book to this?” She asked and I briefly saw Renjun point somewhere before I looked away and continued dusting the shelf.

At least she could get a nice Renjun, all I get is a glaring bitch and I’d have to deal with it for the next ten weeks. The girl walked away and I felt his gaze on me.

“Are you jealous?”

“What?” I halted and gave him the biggest offended face ever. “Why would I be jealous?” I asked and he smirked. “You looked...annoyed” he replied slowly, in a teasing manner and I rolled my eyes.

“How’d you see? Were you watching me?”

I said in a-matter-of-fact tone and he snorted. Let me give this bitch a lesson, I thought to myself, placing my hands on my hips and getting ready to give him the hottest bars.

“I know I’m cute—“ I started and he cut me off.

“Yeah, I know you look cute”

Did he just—? My brows furrowed and a mischievous thought entered my mind. I’m totally teasing him for this.

“...So you agree?” I asked, a smirk crawling up my lips.

“Yeah—” he started “—maybe I do”

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awfullyaster · 4 years

Text

andrew and neil are switches, don’t you forget it

ok hi here for my (probably) daily aftg rant,,,,so i’m seeing that the majority of the fandom (as far as i’ve seen anyway)--or fics/fanart consisting of andreil doing the do--view neil as a power bottom ?

am i incorrect? are my resources false? idk bout u but so far i’ve only seen like one fic where neil is the top/penetrator (!mao is that even a real word idk but it sounds weird haha cute ok anyway)

and honestly, i have to disagree. i do. i’m not trying to push andrew’s boundaries by saying that neil could top, i’m just saying that y’all don’t give neil enough credit.

liek,,,,,bro,,,,,do you not see the amount of top energy neil mf josten radiates ???? like, yes, we know andrew takes the lead but it doesn’t necessarily mean he’d top forever ?????

( just a proposition, ofc but this is just my opinion based on observations--yet again )

( and tbh i had difficulty trying to figure who was the top and who was the bottom between them when i encountered the first hint of intimate growth in their relationship--to the point where i had to ask my best friend who hadn’t a clue what aftg was prior to (that’s when the aftg rants officially started/ignited) and it took some time/proper discussion/consideration but he first came up with the conclusion that andrew was a sub top and that neil was a power bottom )

as for yours truly, i came to the conclusion that they are both switches (some time after i finished reading).

i mean,,,,,,can you really just look at neil josten--wholly, like his entire personality, attitude (problem !), traits, &c and decide on the spot that he’s a bottom ??? how ??? how the hell do you come up with that ?????

and hear me out, i have evidence/reasons:

one) The Great Riko Roast™️. need i say more?

(if elaboration is necessary:

keep in mind that neil (this literal fucking nobody) burned riko (supposedly the king of exy or whatever the fuck, who cares) to ground on the spot (no script, just his attitude problem (mwah i love him) and pure spite)

again, he burned him to the ground on live television, publicly humiliating riko with each and every word

idk bout u but i am so damn sure andrew found out right then n there that this bitch radiates top energy for fucking sure (or, in his words, isn’t spineless)

neil committing arson via verbal attacks is just---splendid. absolutely mesmerizing. flawless. truly inspiring. gamechanging. glorious.

he’s so rude i love him

anyway )

two) neil can shut up andrew up without having to touch or kiss him. he can leave him speechless. with just his words.

(yes, we know anybody & everybody knows better than to touch andrew but like i mean he wouldn’t have to fight him or whatever) (and he doesn’t have to kiss him to shut him up--though he definitely can--he doesn’t have to because that’s just how fucking powerful he is)

y’all,,,,,are you ready for one of the most amazing lines i believe we all know and love,,,,,

““You have a problem wherein you only invest your time and energy into worthless pursuits."

“This,” Neil flicked his finger to indicate the two of them, “isn’t worthless.”

“There is no ‘this’. This is nothing.”

“And I am nothing,” Neil prompted. When Andrew gestured confirmation, Neil said, “And as you’ve always said, you want nothing.”

Andrew stared stone-faced back at him.

[...andrew had his hand frozen mid-air...(i forgot the rest)]”

if this does not prove dominance to you, i don’t know what to tell you. (HE WAS MERELY SPEAKING AND ANDREW COULD NOT COME UP WITH ANYTHING-- A N Y T H I N G --TO SAY BACK BC IT’S A PERSONAL ATTACK AND HE DIDN’T SEE IT COMING AND THAT’S WHY HE SEES NEIL AS INTERESTING/WHY HE ‘HATES’ HIM SO MUCH BRO I)

hOweVeR

i know that dom bottoms exist (i think so, anyway) or bottoms that radiate top energy/the position (i.e. bottom,top) energy you radiate can be entirely different from what position you really are/are comfy with and that these are just words but that brings me to my following point,

three) (#1 insitgator, he, oh yes, neil josten, yes indeed) his unexpected (and to be frank, quite thrilling) acts of asserting dominance ?????? um ????

(when they were kith kithing next to the kitchen (next to kitchen) in neil’s dorm room) “[neil felt his phone buzz in his back pocket and against the wall it was obnoxiously loud. he already knew it was his daily countdown, but he already knew how much little time he had left. he didn’t need to reminded, especially now...andrew took it out of his back pocket and offered it to neil, pulling away from his mouth. neil took the phone from andrew’s hand and threw it across the living room, not taking his eyes off andrew. andrew watched as the phone bounced off the couch and onto the carpet. neil kissed his neck in attempt to distract him and was rewarded by a startled jolt which was enough reason to do it again. and even though andrew pushed his face away, they were close enough for neil to not miss how andrew shivered.]”

b r o ,,,,,,,,,,,, bro,,,,,,it just--

(when they were alone in the bus otw to that one away game--belmonte, i think?) “[“i wonder when coach found out about this,” neil prompted.

“there is no ‘this’.”

“i wonder when coach found out you only want to kill me ninety-three percent of the time.”

neil retraced his steps and had a moment of realization. before andrew left for easthaven, neil had told andrew to trust him and not ‘neil’.

“it was before you left,” neil started...

“coach doesn’t believe what other people want him to believe, he believes what he sees,” andrew replied...

“are you going to tell them?” neil was referring to the rest of the team, and this was up to him, whether they’ll be out or not.

“i won’t have to. renee says the upperclassmen are betting on your sexuality.”

neil knew that matt mentioned that there were bets on about him, but he didn’t know it was about this.

“it’s a waste of time and money. they’ll all lose. i’ve said all year that i don’t swing and i meant it. kissing you doesn’t make me look any of them differently. the only one i’m interested in is you.”

“don’t say stupid things.”

“make me.” and with that, neil grabbed a fistful of andrew’s hair and pulled him in.]”

dude,,,,,,,,,he can take control,,,,,he can,,,,he can lead, too, but he follows andrew’s because he’s a good boy and he knows how important it is. he improvises and uses what he has and takes control from there. dude. dude.

three) honestly? i think andrew likes it. neil’s unexpected acts of confidence,,,kinda leaves him on the edge of his seat yk,, like doesn’t it increase his percentage? it does, right? cuz ik it did when andrew guided neil to touch his chest and neil emulated andrew’s words, “i won’t be like them. i won’t let you let me be.” (i love them bye) but liek,,,,yeah idk andrew liking neil’s neck kisses/fetish kinda tells me he likes it so maybe this isn’t concrete evidence particularly but i’m still including it because andrew’s a switch, idc what anyone says,

four) i lost my train of thought but i ran out of reasons--on the spot, anyway--so i might come back to this if i do but just to make it clear:

andrew minyard is a switch. (it just takes time, like a lot, but it doesn’t mean it’s necessarily impossible/never gonna happen.)

neil josten is a switch. (he respects andrew’s boundaries and doesn’t push him, he’s fine being guided, but it doesn’t mean he can’t take the initiative himself (and i forgot to mention it but re: when he asked andrew if he doesn’t like to be touched in general or if it’s a trust thing + many more times, before & after their first kiss, i believe, my brain is just empty rn) and i just think that deserves more recognition)

so !!

(this post is a mess, (i always am but today’s just worse) i know, and i’m sorry)

in conclusion,

let neil top andrew !! they deserve it !!

(not that vice versa is bad, but this isn’t either, yk, just saying. also, i hope this isn’t too late to say in the post, but i do not, i repeat, i do not, intend to pressure any content creator--fic writers, fan artists, editors, &c--to create content this particular way only,,,,okay,,,gotta make that unequivocally clear. and i’m not saying andrew topping neil is bad or overrated, because i know that when it comes to them, sex in general would take some time, especially neil topping andrew, but i think they deserve that freedom, yk. again,,,,this is just my personal opinion. no insisting statements here, just wish for freedom to speak my mind, that is all. also feel free to interact if you agree/disagree or both !! i’m willing to hear anyone’s comments or thoughts or whatever !! i hope i’m talking to a brick wall here ahah)

bro brain poop rn

anyway

tl/dr: bro let neil top (not necessarily on top, but that works, too--either/or--or both, if y’all dare ;DD (kill me) (but like srsly) (let neil top) (plz) :))

(also somewhat off topic but might anyone have access to some fics in which consist of neil first getting andrew off ??? i randomly remember it from ms. sakavic’s extra content page and i would like to see what the fandom offers, if y’all don’t mind)

im so mean and insistent on my aftg-related opinions now that i think about it

whoops

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mind-of-a-hardstan · 4 years

Note

i’m curious; what are some of your fav fics for each member? - comet ☄️

Ohhh I like doing stuff like this. Just a little warning though, most of ‘em are probably going to be some older fics because I sadly haven’t been reading as much as I would like to and another warning is this list is probably going to be very long. Let’s get to it then :D

Kim Namjoon

Partners by @btssmutgalore is probably my ultimate all time favourite Namjoon fic on this site. I love the way the plot moves in a non-rushed way and I absolutely LOVE how the characters are written. Who doesn’t love a shy, nerdy Joonie bean?

Five Months by @ellieljade is a fic that I’ve read when I’ve just started on this site and it just stuck with me for some reason. The smut was *chef’s kiss* and then you pair that with bits and pieces of slipped up emotion and clear affection and you have a perfect fucking fanfic. It’s a total 180 of Partners because this one features dom Joonie with a dirty mouth ;)

Love Bytes by @stutterfly. Clumsy cute English professor Namjoonie silently pining while all of the other guys just won’t stop MEDDLING. Seriously I love how the relationship between Y/n and the boys were written and I love the interaction between Joon and Y/n even more.

Kim Seokjin

Candlyland by @honeymoonjin. I read this one a few days ago and LET ME TELL YOU it was fucking phenomenal. The plotline was amazing, the story itself was so creative and unique and I love how there were subtle hints to what was going on and then the BIG REVEAL in the end where you just went “how did i miss that?” And the cute relationship between Jinnie and Y/n, clearly a devoted married couple. Not to mention cute lil elf-babie bean Koo. Probably my new fav Jin fic hands down.

My Type by @floralseokjin. Listen, every Jin fic by her is top notch, but I think this one is my favourite because it was so soft but the smut was impeccable. It features nerdy, virgin Jinnie, which was something that I haven’t seen in a Jin fic before tbh? Very sweet and cute and a favourite since I read it.

Min Yoongi

Upgrade by @gukgalore is the ultimate Yoongi smut fic. I mean it.

Empress by @honeymoonjin. This fic was downright GENIUS. I’ve never seen the likes of it before and it left me wanting more, goddamnit. Empress Yoonji is a fucking experience and I’m 110% sure y/n thought the same.

Jung Hoseok

In The Car by @floralseokjin is another masterpiece. Mechanic Hoseok is a fucking concept. Mechanic Hoseok who also races and is funny and HAS A MANBUN I REPEAT HE HAS A MANBUN. Yeah needless to say this fic had me on the floor. Bonus: they fuck on the hood of his car ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Park Jimin

Sin City by @btssmutgalore should be read. By every single person. On this site. I fucking MEAN IT.

Kim Taehyung

Nude by @btssmutgalore was just really really cute and still smutty. I like the whole internal conflict going on and how it slowly progresses from “I done fucked up” to “eh, screw it I deserve to be happy” yaknow?

How to Get a Girl Off 101 by @imagination-of-a-melted-bitch was a fic I read before my writing blog even existed and screw it i still love it. It features y/n and her bf Taehyung who agrees to teach clueless Jeongguk how to fuck, honestly I low key love this concept.

Jeon Jeongguk

For Science by @boymeetsweevil was… quite the fucking experience let me tell you. I binged it in a day and then reread it the next day because I felt like I needed more. It was a shitstorm of pining, hot smut, angst and just Kook being generally bad at feelings. It features the whole gang being nerdy, weird and generally funny. A fantastic read, honestly.

Switch Lanes by @gukgalore was the fic that lead me to her account in the first place. I’m a sucker for healthy relationships being built on trust and friendships and then lead to lots o’ fluff and soft smut so if you are a sucker for that too then feast.

Monster by @btssmutgalore was also something I started reading before my writing account even existed and I’m still foaming at the mouth over it. Seriously Dee just has a certain way of stringing words together in a way that leaves you having to physically restrain yourself from reading for 3 days straight. (I speak from experience, I’m pretty sure my mom thought I was dead when I discovered her masterlist). Monster is no exception.

I’m going to be a bit cocky and put one of my own fics here too, because it’s my favourite fic that I’ve written and I’m very proud of it, so don’t judge me. Purple Mist & Candlelight is a Joonie witch au that features potion maker Joonie and a subtly pining y/n. I think it’s pretty good.

Now, I also read fics on AO3 that are mostly shipfics, and I’ll be adding them too because leaving them out would be a crime because they’re some of my favourites, so here goes:

Heard Them Talk by themarmalade is a fucking masterpiece. It features marten hybrid Joonie and bad boy, rugby player Jeongguk who is actually just a sof boi with a bunny daemon. I cannot even begin to explain the absolute adoration that I have for this fic. Dare I even say it is my ultimate favourite? (namkook)

Got a kiss (with your name on it) by marienadine is another favourite. Roommates Kookie and Tae are pining after each other and feelings come tumbling out when Kook asks Tae to teach him to kiss. The discriptions in this fanfic is impeccable and THIS is the level of writing I want to reach one day. It’s the perfect balance of funny and feelings and the way it’s written is what sets it apart from other fics. It’s truly a masterpiece. (taekook)

Worldwide Lonesome by loindexter is a fic that I read the other day that features closeted bisexual Seokjinnie who doesn’t know how to deal with anything, bi, Yoongi who’s trying desperately to make a change, and somewhere along the lines they fall in love. It’s fluffy and angsty and I cried my heart out at some point. And then I cried my heart out at the end too. If you read this and you see the words “I heard you” in chapter 6, yeah that’s about where I fucking lost it and cried for like a year. (yoonjin)

Found you by Oh_Hey_Tae is a namjin witch au that just… it was so sweet? Joonie is a sad witch who finds lost things and Jinnie is a seer and it’s all just very sweet and sad a beautiful. (namjin)

Bunny Ears by goldenhearts was the CUTEST. Kookie drinks a faulty potion and spontaneously turns into a bunny every now and then. He has no choice but to go to his rival for help and most fluff I’ve ever read ensues. It’s the cutest, bestest, funniest fic I’ve read, Jinnie is unsufferable, Kookie even more so, and I loved every second of it. (jinkook)

Is It Me You’re Looking For? by MoonlitMemories was also such a good fic. I felt for Kook and I just wanted to hug him throughout the fic and Joonie is damn idiot but it’s sort of understandable and it was heart wrenching and perfect and beautiful and such a cute but sad twist on the usual soulmate au (namkook)

And I’m going to stop there because the post is getting too long. These are a few of my favourite things, most of ‘em are smut but not all. They’re all very good and written by amazing authors so enjoy!

#ask #comet #secret santa #fic rec #also #i spent almost a whole day making this list and then at some point i accidentally deleted it instead of saving it like i intended #and a bitch almost cried istg

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cruddyborderlandstheories · 4 years

Text

H2o au, give me strength.

Aka guesswho just figured out how to do read mores in mobile and now tumblr is forever stuck with me rambling merfolk thoughts at 1am isnstead of my poor discord server

Tl;dr: why did they feed the Destroyer humans. Or, you know, just why did they feed the Destroyer. Period. I'm never letting this one go. If it's not a plot hole then the Eridians are so totally not-dead and so totally fucking with us for science.

Also let us team up with the Guardians to take down the Eridians instead of making both of us fight. We're in the same boat here. Let's team up.

I mean, okay, H2o au is slowly being enveloped into canon with every new content drop anyway, so...

Soon.

I guess.

So I am finally. Finally. Done with chappie 5.lovely shit. Means I finally get to work on the. Beyond. Which is just anything past the introductory phase of the black ops squad.

I know chapter 6 will be explaining Barnabas's role in the gang and also bringing Zane into the Black Ops squad that was abandoned by Dahl. And finally getting off Pandora. That's a big one. But after that I want to lead into the Obsidian Black (part 1) and Junpai-7 (with the Pandoran interlude between). But I also want to do the Venus Ambassador arc before both of those, just to solidify everyone as a team. Because it's a good story Brent.

The pronlem: my dumbshit idiot brain is like "OK. Good. But. Consider: Tannis."

Because Tannis is my life of course, I love that crazy binch. So instead of doing literally any of the stuff I need to do to get to rewriting Bl3 and beyond. My brain is: fumk it. You're gonna write beyond Bl3. The Eridian war. Team up the guardians"

Because I'm still kinda salty that the Guardians are just basic bitch mad at humanity. Instead of making the Eridians a parallel to the corporations in universe, and having the Guardians and humanity team up to take them down (which could enforce the whole 'don't get mad at the people the higher ups tell u to be mad at' dealio with corporations and all that. COMMENTARY!). like imagine. Humanity has these corporations. They test on their people. Humanity is a shit show. And then it is revealed that the Eridians are actually testing on humanity. Where is your God now, bitch.

So anyway. I've just been vibing with the Driver and Tannis for a bit. I wanna bring her to Sanc-III but I get the feeling Zane and Moze would both be VERY against that. Plus I don't even think she'd want to leave Junpai-7 since the planet is her testing zone. Her place of power. She's its unseen ruler at this point. Packing up and booking would probably have horrible consequences.

Context: the Driver was tasked with experimenting with new (or alternative) types of Guardians (like a handful of other smart Guardians across the universe were also tasked with). The Overseer tests those new types of Guardians, or pre-existing Guardians, to ensure they're up to the task. The Watcher was supposed to guard Eleseer and the Vault of the Sentinel and look for potential threats, then send the Guardians out to stop them.

I don't know how Scourge fits into this line, but I imagine he is some sort of strict rule follower who got way into his own head and defected from the others.

I mean, not to say the others haven't also corrupted from their thousands of years being stuck in the same mindless job over and over. But Scourge definitely went off the deep end with no new rules to adhere to, since the Eridians abandoned them (again! Think of the parallels, Gearbox! Eridians -> DAHL in BL1!!!). The Overseer is... On the edge, I think. She's definitely trying to escape the job she's stuck in. I think the Watcher is the most stable out of all of them, probably because she has the most 'free reign'.

The Driver is... Bored. Extremely bored. She began testing her limits, playing god with the people of Junpai-7. Using her experiments as her avatars when she could just to see, to get some form of interaction with the world around her. She sort of became like the Eridians in that sense, just on a smaller scale. Also, she'd been micromanaging the planet for so long she figured she had every variable in-check, but she didn't, and now she's obsessed with getting information regarding the things she can't control (friggen humanity).

I think if any one of the Guardians resembles the Eridians the most in this AU, it's her. And when she teams up with the gang to go against the council, they'll probably use that against her.

The difference is she was physically trapped doing her job for thousands of years due to her programming (thanks Eridians). The Eridians chose to do all of this and nobody forced them into this position. They just wanted to see what would happen. This is all an experiment for them to watch >:(. Mayhaps even entertainment.

I will say it 1 billion times: I do NOT trust the Eridians. No sir. Not after Nyriad talked about the Destroyer. Plot holes be damned, that set my alarm bells off so god damn fast. "we had to feed it. We had to feed it humans, specifically. Even though its hunger is endless and feeding it changes literally nothing. And if not feeding it would kill it, that'd be good because we want it dead. But no, let's fed it. Humans. The people we are now asking for help. Yes. Those humans. Even though there are hundreds of other life forms. And also plants. And if it's hunger is endless maybe it will eat rocks, too. All this sand everywhere. But no. Let's just feed it humans."

BULLSHIT. THEY'RE UP TO SOMETHING THOSE DAMN ERIDIANS.

I don't trust like that.

And all the humans depicted in statues and murals everywhere in Vaults that haven't been opened/explored since the Eridians vanished????? Nah. And THE FORGETTING that's completely brushed over??? Nah nah nah. I'M GOOD. these alien binches are so totally up to something.

I don't trust them at fucking all.

Even the Overseer hints at them not actually being fully gone.

So anyway.

H2o au is a way for me to have fun while fixing/rewriting lore and making more lore and also having merfolk in borderlands because. I need it ❤️. I also use it to answer lore questions I have and fix disappointing plot hooks. And it is being unintentionally (I fu king hope) incorporated into canon every time a new dlc drops and they reference something I've written about before.

Is weird.

Kthxbye.

#Tfw psychic energy #Hiromi is a real borderlands character now #I beamed her into Randy's subconscious #She's real #I've given up on understanding wth the lore is #I'm just roll with it now #Eridians? I barely know 'er #They're evil binches and I hate them #Give me more of them or I cry #Harsh demands maybe but I want Eridian lore #Just make it good lore or I break it down with my bare hands and rebuild it better and also with sparkles #H2o au #Borderlands

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buzzworddotie · 4 years

Text

A little (not quite) Anxiety Ramble

Do something! Do SOMETHING! Don’t stop doing something!

Welcome to 2020.

It won’t stop, my brain will not shut off. We’ve been in lockdown for… to be honest off the top of my head I can’t even get dates right but I’ve been in isolation mode, working from home for about 4 weeks now maybe?

On week 2, I became more lethargic than I ever have in my life, I withdrew from any contact with other people, my brain was in a fog, I couldn’t focus. My muscles were tired and refusing to function and my energy was entirely zapped.

I managed to pull myself out of that by attempting to not guilt myself for eating that bowl of carb loaded cereal or allowing myself to rationalise that it’s OK to just watch a movie.

But here I find myself in that cloudy little place again. My anxiety is in such a way that my brain refuses to shut down and my motivation is becoming a precious commodity that I’m unsure of how exactly to keep it in a steady flow.

When the anxiety kicks in like this for me, I stress and worry about every and any thing. Things entirely out of my control, other people, how I am perceived, why I am not now or have ever been good enough for anything or anyone.

My rational brain packs its bags and heads for the door as I stare in the mirror and hate everything I see looking back. My doubts, my insecurities, my shame - every dark little voice that can be mustered up gets louder and louder.

And so I overthink every action I make, I try too hard to impress a version of myself on people. I try too hard to force anyone who might give a shit that I am in fact OK! And you know there’s nothing saner than someone screaming “I’M OK!!” directly into another person's face manically.

Sleeping is the worst, or in my case not sleeping. It doesn’t matter how tired I may or may not be, I can be assured that as soon as I lay my head down that anxiety demon comes alive.

I cannot remember the last time I slept for a solid 7 - 8 hours. I can recall what it feels like to be at complete odds and ends at 4am because it’s happening every goddamn night!

Is this a symptom of what is happening in the world right now or is it just an exemplification of how screwed up I might actually be? These are the beautiful thoughts which haunt my brain in between scrolling through Twitter or Reddit, telling myself to not scroll through Twitter or Reddit and then, you know, casually reminding myself that I will never be good enough for whatever the fuck I think I should be good enough for!

I’ve always been a bit of an introverted extrovert, or am I an extroverted introvert? I’m not sure, the point is I’ve never had a problem being a bit “isolated”. I’m quite happy in my own company and just pondering about, in my own little world doing whatever silly things I decide to do with myself. However, that world of mine was always interrupted with everyday interactions - people I work with, the ability to visit someone and general activities which we just take for granted.

I’m starting to even question if I am as introverted as I liked to think I was at all! I told myself that being locked down wasn’t a big deal for me, not a massive shift in my life. I’m single, I live alone… Just a real wholesome and healthy picture there! “I’m OK!!!”

First World Problems.

One thing about me I’ve known since childhood is that I love my independence. I was told by my parents growing up I was the most independent of all my siblings. There is a sense of freedom that comes with independence and I think losing that is throwing me for a bit of a loop.

The freedom and independence to just make a decision to do something in the moment and being able to just do it. Even the smallest, stupidest of things like going for a browse in a shop. Such a boring and mundane activity but an activity that clearly ticked some kind of box for my mind.

Of course, I am wary of banging on about this word “freedom” but allow me to state, I do not mean freedom with the gusto of some hardcore, right wing, gun toting Murican (Or the Irish lady, she whom shall not be named… We all know).

No, I’m not trying to suggest my first world concept of freedom is being threatened on some conspiracy level, I accept the merit in the fact that for a period of time we have to do what’s best for the greater good. But jaysus, it’s not easy at times is it?

Without the fundamental freedoms which I take for granted as everyday life it’s as if my brain is being withheld vital nutrients for it to operate full steam ahead. Don’t get me wrong, this anxiety trip isn’t a new phenomenon for me, I know the bitch well, but I had such a great grip on things and I think the hardest part for a minute there was trying to figure out how I was allowing it all to spiral so ferociously when I know I have the tools to not do that.

It also bothers me because I am, by nature, incredibly laid back and positive. I flip between Energizer Bunny, Everything is Awesome and easily passing for a hippie stoner on my good days. So seeing myself behave erratically at times now makes me not recognise or like the person I am having to live with during this lockdown! Her neediness and desire to please is very, very off putting to me.

But maybe I just need to let her be a little bit, maybe I just need to let her know that it is fine. It is fine if a momentary lapse in the mind causes a mini freak out which embodies itself as wanting to just shut down, it is fine if she does just go a bit OTT at times with people to overly compensate for how weak and low she is feeling. It’s fine.

It is fine. Once you recognise that that’s all it is, it does not lessen your worth to behave in a way you might later regret and it does not lessen your value if you allow your insecurities or vulnerabilities to sneak through every now and then. You just have to hope that whoever is lucky enough to get the brunt of your vulnerability can appreciate the value in getting a taste of it at all. Because that right there, that vulnerability, that is a precious thing which is not afforded to many, if any at all.

It is the most beautiful aspect of humanity, to be vulnerable. And it is really fucking hard to let go of. Vulnerability takes an incredible amount of strength, it’s a feather that keeps on floating through regardless of how much dirt and debris gets attached to weigh it down. It is delicate and strong all at the same time.

And for me, it is terrifying to let that wall down. It feels frightening to think for a moment I let someone see weakness or gave a hint that I, with all my positivity and strength and being there for other people, could have a moment of weakness. It cracks the veneer of who I want to pretend I am.

Meet my friend, Anxiety.

Anxiety has been an under current which has existed within me since my childhood but something I only recognised as I began to get older and, yes, get help. Speaking to a professional allowed me the opportunity to begin to understand myself and learn about myself, gain self awareness.

Where I am now compared to where I was back then are completely opposed. At its worst, I was consumed by my anxiety and all the other little niggly things which tortured my brain. It all manifested in self-hate usually, maybe hate is a strong word but certainly a really strong dislike of myself! I would allow that to spin in circles in my mind until I was lost in it and trying to fix a million and one things about myself and others which really, was all very surface or non-existent.

The difference today is that I can, at last, recognise it. I can see the signs, at times I am deep within them and it takes a step back to shake it off and see it but at least I can find it within myself to rationalise and take that step back.

It doesn’t make it easy, there is nothing easy about managing mental health in the same sense there is nothing easy about managing physical health. If I want that toned stomach I will have to feel the burn and it has to work the same for mental health too!

Jesus, it is not easy at times. I will always remember an episode of RuPaul’s Drag Race in which the contestant Katya suffered severely from debilitating anxiety. During a walk through Ru asked the Queen if she was, in fact, addicted to the anxiety. This registered with Katya and as time has gone by and that interaction replays in my own mind, I realise it often registers for me too.

When it is all you know, you can easily become all consumed by the anxiety, the worry, the stress and you can get sucked right down into it. And you can find a level of comfort within that discomfort, it’s recognisable and it can feel easier to submit yourself to it than seek out the light and pull yourself back from it.

When I break it down I can see the various triggers for my anxiety:

Opening up and being vulnerable = Opening myself up for rejection.

Feeling like I cannot help = Opening myself up for failure.

Failure, rejection = Not good enough.

Attempting to improve and increase my self worth is really something that I never understood was such an issue for me, mostly because the concept of “self worth” was never something that even showed up on my radar. But guess what? It’s a thing!

Self love is not about having an over inflated and delirious ego, it is about recognising that you do have worth as a human being. Recognise yourself as a human being.

Oh god, she’s going to talk about her childhood...

So, why is it that I may not have always recognised myself as a human being, worthy of care and love? Well, I will refrain from the details that will cause my very being to quiver but I was raised in a home in which I received a lot of love, but it was unstable. Arguments, raised voices, depression and a lack of seeing love between my parents. A tumultuous family backstory which, while I was not in existence for much of it, carried a heavy cloud over all proceedings. I was in existence for difficult times with siblings and parents who butted heads constantly.

I was a witness, I was shielded from being on the receiving end for the most part but I still stayed awake at night waiting for things to take a turn for the worse. I jumped at nothing and everything, like a scared little mouse. I was reserved and private with friends, I held the problems into myself and did not expose anyone to it.

As well as this, I faced a level of mental, physical and, like so many other girls and women out there, sexual abuse. I won’t delve into all the details but it seems like some sick, twisted joke that once you are forced to be subjected to this as a child, you do not recognise the issue with it which leaves you vulnerable for it again as you mature into an adult and set off on your own.

This is because your self worth has been destroyed. So when you see ladies coming to the fore as part of #MeToo or another movement, or no movement at all, don’t be so quick to judge. These ladies have likely held their tongue because their self worth has been so low that until they became exposed to others discussing it they didn’t even realise what had happened to them.

I won’t dwell too long on that, I could spend a long time dissecting it but it isn’t for now.

I will note, neither of my parents were responsible for that abuse. However, what my beautiful, kind and lovely parents were responsible for was me and as much as it absolutely kills me to have to admit, there were failings. Aside from generally being exposed to an unhappy home, as a child I was used to bridge the gap. Something which ran into my adulthood.

If my father was angry, upset or, as I now reflect and realise, in a spiral of depression it was my responsibility to pick him out of it. From a young age, I was the fixer - a tool to try to make things better.

Until I actually discussed this with a professional I never saw the problem here, everything was normalised to me, but apparently not great! It’s a lot of pressure to put on a child!

Add into that a complex / chip on my shoulder of never being as good as an older sibling, whom I perceived as the ‘golden child’, feeling like I had to keep things hurting me hidden for fear of disrupting an already disruptive home for which I felt responsible for keeping the peace or holding together and well, you get yourself a nice little stew that is a recipe for absolute fucked up adulthood!

Honest Reflection.

How could I ever expect to grow into a well developed individual? The balance of genuine love I did receive from my parents is what I believe kept me from falling down an even more desperate track, a track which I pondered along on many occasions. A dark road with flickering lights where the allure of escape was often far too real.

However, my internal commentary of having to be responsible for others actually kept me from ending it on many occasions as I could not release the feeling of not wanting to let anyone down.

Jesus, unpack this shit and it’s an absolute shit show! But I don’t claim to be special or unique, the sad reality is how many people went through a similar journey or worse and are now in their early to mid adulthood and attempting to get to grips with it all. And that’s only if they managed to find the tools and resources to recognise it in the first place.

Recognise that 1. You are not mental and 2. You are not a terrible human being.

I can’t speak to anyone else but clearly I have lacked the tools to manage or cope with my emotions. Anything outside of my control freaks me out and I lose the absolute run of myself! I panic, I seek out approval and validation and often in unhealthy ways. I have had eating disorders which I have been in denial about, I have drank too much, gone off the rails and slept with far too many people!

What now? What triggered my writing, which has evidently turned into an unintentional essay about myself (fair play if you’ve made it this far, you’re a better person than me).

I recognised irrational behaviour and a deep dip in my mood as well as an increase of self critical behaviours. That was when I began writing, this is now the future, or present, or wait, is this inception? I’ve incepted myself, just know as you read now a couple of days have passed.

And it took those couple of days for the lightbulb to click on but better late than never!

Let there be Light!

I began writing this aimlessly as a means to just put my thoughts down and that was a step in the direction of realising I had to do something. I am now slowly picking myself back up from it all.

First step, I went to the chemist and I just asked what can you give me for anxiety, I am not sleeping, I have not had a proper night sleep in close to two weeks or more - I asked for…… Help!

Gulp, scary, try it sometime.

The Pharmacist gave me a product called “Avena Sativa” (check it out). I added 20-30 drops to a little bit of water and it immediately relaxed and eased my mind. I took more before bed and baby, when I say I slept! Pure, deep, joyful sleep - all the z’s.

But wait, there’s more! Thinking I might as well hit this from all angles, I also grabbed some Vitamin D supplements and began retaking my B-12. I don’t know if one or all of these things did the trick but I can certainly feel the easing effects.

So that’s the taking stuff, but that isn’t all I did - Oh no, that would be too short for me!

I knew I really needed to hit this hard if I wanted to pull myself out of the hole I could eventually be down deep within. I’m a fan of meditation, I get that some skeptical people might huff it off as new age hippie nonsense or whatever, but it can work. Youtube has a host of wonderful meditation videos and for me, switching off from the world and onto one of those helps me massively.

Additionally, I stopped hanging out of my phone, for the best part at least. I have a bit of anxiety with my phone (of course I do). I went through a period of time where my phone was a bearer of bad news, any phone call could have been bad news and eventually, it was. I realised I find it hard to let go of that, the idea that if I do not have my phone on me and with sound on 24/7 I risk not getting an important piece of news, I risk letting someone down or not being there as I should be.

Should = dangerous word. Don’t let ‘should’ govern your life or mind. Every ‘should’ is an expectation and additional level of stress you are putting on yourself. Best advice I received was to replace ‘I should’ with ‘I want to’ and see what the end result becomes.

Let’s wrap this up.

All in all, this is a time that can lead those susceptible to anxiety, and even those who are not typically, to find themselves in the mental trenches. It’s imperative to look at yourself from the outside and attempt to recognise what might be the deep rooted cause of what is effing you up. Do you really hate your body right now or is your self worth a bit low because of some other reason that deserves to be addressed?

Maybe consider going a bit easy on yourself? Don’t beat yourself up over that response or message that you regret. Don’t assume you can control others, just be yourself. Speak your truth at any given time and allow yourself that beautiful release of scary, scary vulnerability.

Don’t run from it or beat yourself up over every and any little interaction or negative thought, give yourself a break and pull yourself out of the addiction of dark thoughts. Seek out help, ask for help - even if you are just asking yourself. Make healthy choices that will have a knock on effect of making you feel good about yourself or happy in your decision.

It is far from easy, but again, nothing worth having in this life is ever easy. But then the end result, when you push through and put in that effort - it is so, so very worth it to be able to have that moment of that day when you actually don’t doubt yourself or hate yourself.

I will keep motoring along with my own work and efforts and I ask that you do the same, if you find yourself in that dark place. Push through and don’t give up on yourself, you’re all you’ve got and that’s a pretty amazing thing to have.

9 notes · View notes

tokidokitrash · 5 years

Text

I’ve never written a fic before (ok maybe when I was like 13) and I was just struggling a little mentally tonight. It’s a Long rambling off the Top of my head and it’s not gonna be any good but I tried. I would appreciate any constructive criticism you’d shoot my way.

It did help me feel better after writing this, so that’s a silver lining:D

I know the mysme fandom is kinda not as strong as it used to be, but reading other people’s fics really brightened my day, since I’m always on my own due to work.

I had this set as a longer timeline compared to the limited days in the game, and my MC clearly struggles with her own inner depression demons,

Sorry in advance about some stuff further down. I couldn’t help myself.

Italics are either MC’s thoughts or flashbacks.

———————————————————————————————

The way we are - 01

Dreadful, depreciating thoughts slowly crept their way into your thoughts, almost like they bore down on the back of your tightly shut eyes.

‘Not this again...’ you mentally scold yourself.

It had been a few weeks since your last battle. The constant struggle you fought deep within you- one only you knew about.

No one knew. No one could ever know. No one would be able to accept you. No one would be able to help either ways.

You curled yourself into a little huddle on your bed. The air-conditioner wasn’t on, leading the air to a standstill. It was suffocating, the stagnancy. But honestly, you couldn’t be bothered with the discomfort.

‘Stagnant air... stagnant just like my life has been...’

You chastised yourself again, me talking rolling your eyes at yourself, this time for being such a dramatic little bitch in your own little mind.

You hated yourself.

Things were actually getting better these past few weeks. You had the RFA and managing their affairs kept you solidly occupied.

Truthfully, that fateful day you encountered them, and they laid out the opportunity to you to help them be their new coordinator, you mentally leapt with joy at the chance.

Yes, the whole thing was pretty fishy, bogus, weird.

But you’d craved and relished the idea that you could be of some help to a greater cause. Your heart soared at the thought of being of use to someone.

It did come as a plus that the members of this new group were all such...unique personalities.

The lively, dramatic, narcissistic but caring Zen.

The adorable, innocent, wide-eyed Yoosung.

The strong and (seriously) overworked Jaehee.

The stern, calculative business man with the strangest streak of humour, Jumin.

And the mysterious hacker with the flaming red hair, the one whom you’d always felt you could ‘click’ with best, the one you were most attracted to,707.

In their own way, they lit up your life, the way they seemed to always be concerned with your wellbeing, peppering your day with their funny arguments and conversations.

Then shit hit the fan, didn’t it?

It had already been a few days since the whole ordeal with ‘Unknown’. It’s events still played fresh in your mind, but yet right now, they seemed so very far away.

Seven had come to your rescue, but since that day, he’s been anything but a knight in shining armour.

Before the incident, you both had so much fun through the limited calls to each other and the chat.

You felt warm feelings towards Seven blossom in your chest every time you heard his voice. And with the way he seemed to flirt back with you, you had the slightest impression that maybe, just maybe, he was interested in you too.

It felt so nice to banter with him, to feel some sort of electric connection between you two.

But these days, it seems that the happy-go-lucky, capable 707 was gone.

The other day, he even lashed out at Yoosung, who called you, distraught and crying over the incident.

You’ve tried to be strong, you understood that whatever transpired that day must have triggered Seven towards reacting this way. Constantly pushing you away, harshly berating you for leaving his sight, then berating you once more for coming too close to him. You wanted to be here for him, to let him know you cared for him more deeply then he knew and you’d accept and like to hear his story. You’d like to think of yourself as capable of helping provide comfort and reassurance to this beautiful mess of a man, despite whatever attitude shocking revelations of danger he may throw at you.

The key word here, is that you ‘tried’.

And sometimes, life gives you so much lemons, you get really sick of fucking lemonade.

You haven’t really left the room for about...maybe 2 days now, you estimate. Only sneaking out for essentials when you didn’t hear typing and it seemed that maybe Seven was asleep. Wallowing in your self-hatred, you think about the things you’ve wanted to accomplish and how you’ve failed them all.

Dammit, even the man you were so into seems to hate you now- and why shouldn’t he?

Depression had sinked her filthy claws into your heart once again, and though you may have won that battle against her before, you knew, deep in the recess of your mind, she was always waiting to crawl back out.

You hated every fibre of your being. Some days you’d wonder why you were even alive. What did you exist for? Even replying the emails from potential guests seem a chore too monumental right now. Why should they care about your invites? You’d ponder over what to send them, then delete everything you’ve typed out of fear you were being out of line or plain stupid, giving the RFA a bad name. Then you’d start to hate yourself more for letting the guests wait on your reply, get more upset with your own inefficiency. It was a vicious cycle in your mind, and it was always tough to break out of it.

You’ve managed before, and kept a happy persona in your interactions with the members. And that’s what you tried to do for Seven, even as he was scowling away, brows scrunched up in frustration at either his computer, or your mere presence. Either way, he let you know you were an annoyance he couldn’t be bothered to entertain.

And you started believing him.

So you’ve locked yourself away in your room. This was your problem to deal with. Your demons to face. You found a small comfort in hearing Seven typing away in the living room. It was odd, but knowing he was there made you feel safe...but so unwanted.

‘Come on MC... you’re a tough girl, so tough this one out. Yes you’re pathetic and there’s nothing more you hate in this world but yourself, but snap out of it.... please... happythoughtshappythoughtshappythoughtskittenspuppies..seven’svoiceandjokesandthoughtsoftakingyoutothemoon...’

Growling in frustration, you pull the pillow over your head and tried to scream into it, only to end up sobbing uncontrollably. Why were you like this? It’s so illogical...so, so stupid.

If only you could force yourself to be happy and cheery.

But admittedly, Seven’s attitude and coldness towards you really shut that cheery side of you down, faster than you’d like to admit.

You recall the freshest wounds he had inflicted upon you... you had tried to talk to him, as he seemed a little nicer that morning, despite being extremely sleep deprived, giving you a nod when you brought him coffee, and didn’t tell you off when you went to sit near him. You had wanted to express a little gratitude for how hard he was working for your sake.

—————

“Hey, Seven... thank you for working so hard fo-

‘“I’m just going to stop you there, you don’t have to say anything to me. You can just leave me alone.”’

“Aish~! I know that~! You’ve said that before, I just wanna thank you- you’re going to hurt my feelings you know” you pout, trying to stay light-hearted.

He takes off his glasses and rubs his temples upon hearing this. Sighing loudly, he adds;

“I don’t care about how you feel at all. I can’t be bothered if you’re hurt. I’m busy and don’t have time for this, so stop bothering me already!”’

“ I just-‘

‘“ just leave me alone.”’

You weren’t sure what made you decide to do this, but you whine quietly, feeling defeated, and perhaps this was actually a last ditch attempt to see if he cared.

“Seven...I’m going to start crying if you keep being so mean to me..”

He pauses, then he shifts in your direction,stony faced, cold liquid gold eyes bearing into your own brown eyes.

‘“Even if you cry, it doesn’t really matter to me.”’

Hearing that, you flashed him the best smile you could manage, hoping your pain wasn’t too obvious, muttered a few apologies and excused yourself to your room.

————-

...you were scared too, after the whole incident. But it seems he truly did not care about how you felt, like he hardly gave it any thought. like you were only a problem he had to fix ASAP to get a move on his life.

——————————————————-

Hours had probably passed when you jolt awake to a knock on your door.

“Oi, MC.” he starts in an annoyed tone “Are you okay? I tried calling you but your phone is dead. What are you doing in there for so long anyway?”

You weren’t sure what time it was, but you knew it must have been quite awhile if Mr cold-and-I-don’t-care-about-you was checking up on you. The room was dark, air still stale. Picking up your phone, you realise you haven’t checked it since the start of your mental battle. Yes, it was dead.

“MC?” You thought maybe you picked up a hint of worry though all that irritation this time. “.....I’m coming in.”

‘Wait what? Nonono did I lock the bloody door? He can’t see me like this I-‘

You bolt up from the bed, nearly tripping on your sheets as you rushed for the door, but you were a beat too slow, and the door was already ajar before your hand could touch the handle.

Golden irises pierce your gaze as your eyes adjusted to the invading light from outside your room, he pauses for a moment and his eyes seem to widen in shock at the sight of you...and your probably very disheveled appearance.

Hurriedly, you press your body against the back of the door, holding , preventing it from opening any further.

“MC?!” He called as he tried to peek his head past the door’s opening to get a better look at you.

You cleared your dry and raspy throat before finally replying the redhead-

“AHHHHh Seven! Geez, don’t you know that you’re supposed to give a lady more time to respond?! You can’t just open doors so suddenly you gave me such a start! Nearly let you see me all horrid looking after taking a nap ahaha ha”

Good lord you hope you sounded convincing, and not at all like you’ve been crying for the last godknowshowlong.

Seven goes quiet for a moment, and the tension in the air still hangs over you two. You notice one of his hands shift and holds onto the door frame as he steadily starts to push the door towards you. Trying your utmost best but failing to be lighthearted, you yelped and tried to swat his hand away, still fervently trying to push the door back against his force.

“Holddddup what are you doing Seveny stop trying to open the door! Didn’t you hear what I said???”

“I heard you. But I said I’m.coming.in.”

He pushes the door harder and you know you’re no match for his strength, and in a last ditch attempt to hide your appearance from him you grab a large towel you had hanging behind your door, wrap it over your head, letting it drape down your shoulders and dash for the corner of the room behind the door. You squat down, huddled in your new corner, and you hear Seven cuss when the door gives way easily at your absence, causing him to stumble into the room. Hearing him cuss a bit more, you sense his gaze sweeping the room, before feeling them land upon your huddled up frame at the corner. There’s a long pause before he quietly asks, incredulously

“..........MC, wh-what are you doing over there”

“I told you I was indecent looking now.... so I’m just going to stay in this corner since you so rudely barged in.” You quipped. Your choice of words may sound harsh but you say them in a sing-song manner. Seven just stays quiet after your reply, which leads you to ramble on, hoping to fill the silence

“So, uh, what’s up? Did you miss me? Come here cuz you’re missing little old me? Ahahhaha or did you manage to find something about this whole....shenanigan? Anyways a-aren’t you busy and all? I won’t bother you anymore so y-you don’t have to worry about me either ahhahaha...hahahah”

I sound insane.

You hear him sigh loudly, again, and it kind of reminds you of how your parents used to sigh at you when you were a disappointment. He mutters under his breath sometimes that’s sounds like ‘fucks sake’ and it cuts you off from your ramblings. You can’t stop the tears from springing to your eyes. You were still hurting, still wallowing. Trying to hide whatever negativity by being weird and using your own brand of humour. And now he was real, in your room and invading your space, you could feel your mind trying to come up with something, anything to avoid possible questions and maybe get him to leave.

“What’s all this? You’re being real weird now, hiding in that corner. I’ve seen you after your naps and you don’t usually look like....that. Turn around and face me, MC.”

You take a deep breathe through your nose, your way of stifling your sniffs from new tears,

“Ahhh you’re so indelicate, I can’t turn to face you, so uh why don’t you just wait outside and I’ll come out when I’m ready?”

“And when will that be? Talk to me MC. Something is wrong, isn’t it?”

No shit, Sherlock.

“Yaaaa Please God Seven, have mercy and give this lady a chance to *sniff* prep herself first”

You could almost hear him rolling his eyes at you, when he says

“Get out of the corner before I drag you out. Seriously, what are you even doing? “

Given his snappiness, you wouldn’t be surprised if he acted out his threat. But his question gave you a chance to exhibit your messed up coping mechanism.

“What am I doing? Fine, I’ll tell you. I’m not hiding myself, I’m prepping for my next cosplay.”

“HAH??” In a very, very annoyed tone.

“Here, look. “

In that moment, you slowly turned your body to face him, and put your hands down on the floor, still in a squatting position but with your hands between your knees. Towel still draped across your head and shoulder, you whisper in a low, slow voice,

“E.......Ed........Edward.....................Nii-san”

“..............’’

“GODDAMMIT MC “

Seven’s loud, booming shout really startles you, as you realise he’s left the room. You started to worry you’ve made him real angry this time, and wait for more cussing and shouting.....only to hear cussing and...laughter? His laughter grows, and soon he’s bellowing, and the raucous peals of laughter is music to your ears actually. Even though you’re still hurt from his words and demeanour, you’ve come to realise the effect this gorgeous man has on you, and it warms your heart a little that you’ve managed to make him laugh for the first time in a Long, Long time. He’s still cackling when you waddle towards the door, still covered mainly by the room’s darkness, peek out at him but with your body still in the same position.

“Hey man” you catch his attention and he stares at you, wiping tears away from his eyes “that’s not cool- that scene wasn’t funny at all in the anime-god you shouldn’t be laughing at this.”

Seven has his hands on his knees as you send him into another mini laughing fit.

You stay like this for awhile, feeling a little better after making 707 laugh, despite it not being your original plan at all. You hoped he’d have forgotten all about how you looked and how you ardently tried to hide from him the fact you’ve been a mess these last 2 days.

Now it just feels a little bittersweet. This whole thing is quite similar to how you’ve always dealt with hiding your hurt and pain from others, and a teeny, tiny part of you was sad that you felt the need to hide your feelings and emotions from the guy you adored.

Deep down, you wanted his comfort, but yet, was too afraid to seek it out.

You were now convinced that Seven perhaps truly had no feelings for you other than just as a ‘member of RFA’.

“Anyways...god Seven?”You whispered quietly once his laughter completely dies down. He looks up, having taken off his glasses to wipe his tears again.

“Ah?” He mutters breathlessly, looking at you through his fringe.

You realise you have it real bad, as this sight of him makes your breathe hitch a little and your heart beat faster. You will thoughts of him away as you continue

“I’m going to go and wash up, then um, head to bed now....“ you shift your hands to grip the towel’s ends, making it cover more of your face. Seven seems to notice how tightly you’re gripping the towel, and patiently waits for you to speak as your struggle to find the words.

“..I’m sorry about the other day, today. Well. Everyday. I hope you feel a little better... good night, okay? Take care of yourself, Remember to eat and sleep and I’ll just be here I Guess an—“

you stop yourself. You were rambling again. Pointless rambles. You forced a small smile, internally dying as you were now telling yourself to give up these feelings, bid him good night once more, and gently shut the door.

—————————————————

I’m sorry about the joke again. I had the idea and I couldn’t put it down.

33 notes · View notes

hermannsthumb · 5 years

Note

Halloween party, cold, and bonfire?

Anonymous said: Bonfire

from autumn fic meme here: 8. Halloween Party + 37. Cold + 23. Bonfire

for this i was thinking that college au might be fun, especially bc ive had this art on the mind for a week....hehe

—————————————————————

“Well, well, well,” a short Godzilla says across the cider bowl from Hermann, his hands—well, claws—on his hips. “What’s a guy like you doing somewhere like this, Gottlieb?”

Hermann freezes, ladle in hand. “I’m sorry,” he says, “do I know you?” Hermann does not generally make a habit of associating with people who attend parties in obnoxious felt Godzilla costumes. Clearly homemade ones, at that.

The Godzilla struggles with his mask for a few seconds before finally ripping it off with a triumphant crow. And, of course—the red-faced, sweaty, messy-haired boy beneath it is none other than Newton Geiszler, who is exactly the sort of person who would attend a party in an obnoxious felt Godzilla costume, and who Hermann, begrudgingly, associates with, on account of being his assigned lab partner. “Oh,” Hermann says. His mouth twists down automatically. His fingers tighten on the ladle. “Hello, Newton.” He didn’t know Newton would be coming. In fairness—Hermann didn’t know that he himself would be coming, either, until about forty-five minutes ago.

Newton adjusts his fogged-up glasses and grins. “Seriously, what are you doing here?” he says.

“I was invited,” Hermann says, spooning cider into his cup and determined to keep a level head: most of his interactions with Newton tend to erupt in violent arguments. Usually through no fault of Hermann’s own. Usually. He’d rather that not happen in the home of a complete stranger, and well past midnight, at that. “I don’t know if I can say the same for you—”

“Ha-ha,” Newton says. “That’s not what I—wait, hand me the ladle, don’t be a dick—not what I meant. I thought you hated this kind of shit. Loud music, and people, and socializing—”

Hermann narrows his eyes and takes a sip of his hot cider; immediately, he starts coughing it back up. He expected it to be spiked, but not spiked this much. It tastes as if there’s an entire bottle of butterscotch schnapps in there. There probably is. “That’s strong,” he wheezes.

“It sure it,” Newton says, and grins wider. After a brief struggle with the cider (because, as Hermann imagines, it’s difficult to do anything with the moronic gloves he’s wearing) downs all of his glass and goes back in for another. “I made it myself. Who invited you to a party?”

Apparently the conversation isn’t over yet. “Tendo Choi,” Hermann says, still wheezing, “from, ah, computer science.”

“No shit!” Newton crows. “You know Tendo?” Hermann nods. “We were in a band together, you know, freshman year, with some other guys. And a little bit of junior year. And this past summer.” He coughs. “We had an, uh, hard time sticking together as a group. Musicians, you know, very—temperamental.”

“Mm,” Hermann says, sure it has nothing whatsoever to do with Newton’s personality, nor the quality of the band itself, which Hermann can’t help but assume was very, very low. He’s not surprised of its existence, at least; Newton is the sort who walks around campus with his guitar slung over his back, just waiting for the excuse to whip it out and torture innocent bystanders with half a dozen Violent Femmes covers. “Well, Newton, if that’s all—”

Hermann ducks around the table to make his way to the glass slider. Beyond it lies the expansive backyard, decorated with strings of skeleton garland and paper ghosts from oak tree to oak tree, illuminated only by orange and purple lanterns, and promising a bonfire with significantly fewer people than there are crammed into this basement. Most importantly, it promises freedom: no Newton Geiszler. Hermann will put up with the October chill if it means no Newton Geiszler.

Newton (perpetually unable to take a hint) trails after him anyway. “What’s your costume supposed to be?” he says.

“I’m Alan Turing,” Hermann offers, weakly, because it was a very last minute costume and the only thing he’d been able to think of.

“You’re so lame,” Newton says, “you totally—” and then proceeds to get his tail caught in the slider. He jerks backwards; his drink sloshes to the patio. “Fuck!”

Hermann can’t contain his snort. “King of the Monsters indeed.”

“Yeah, okay, funny,” Newton says. He gives a fruitless wobble. “You’re a regular comedian. Shut up and help me, jackass.”

Still snickering under his breath, Hermann tucks his cane under his arm and gives a great tug on the front of the Godzilla costume. Newton stumbles forward. “Thanks,” he says, and resumes waddling at Hermann’s side, to Hermann’s disappointment. “Anyway—lame. You totally just pulled that out of your closet. I’ve seen you wear that sweater three times this month.”

“You must pay very close attention to me to have noticed that,” Hermann says. “One might even say you’re obsessed with me.”

“As if,” Newton scoffs. “I just can’t help it, you know, everything you wear is just so ugly. Total eyesore. It’s all permanently seared into my retinas. Jesus,” he waddles faster, tail flopping comically behind him, leaves crunching loudly under his giant costume boots, “slow down, will you? I can’t move in this thing.” He huffs out a breath. “Sweating like a bitch, too. It smells like a fucking locker room in here.”

Hermann wrinkles his nose; Newton is so endlessly charming. “Are you going to follow me around all night?” he says.

“I might,” Newton says. “I don’t have any friends—”

“No surprise there.”

“—here. I don’t have any friends here, and you’re better than nothing,” Newton corrects. He sticks his tongue out. “You’re such a jerk, Gottlieb.”

Privately, Hermann wonders why Newton bothered coming to a party he knew none of his friends would attend in the first place, but he supposes it’s hypocritical of him. He doesn’t have any friends here either, after all. He doesn’t even know the host. Tendo Choi invited him—strong-armed him into attending, really, into relaxing for a single night—and yet Hermann hasn’t seen a single perfectly-coiffed hair of his head all night. “Just promise me you won’t be a nuisance,” Hermann says. It’s better than nothing, as Newton said.

Newton is a nuisance. They find a small bench in a deserted corner of the bonfire, and Newton—after a little trouble fitting onto it, with his ridiculous costume tail—talks to Hermann incessantly about every single thought that crosses his mind: where he bought the cider, how much he hates the music blasting through the speakers in the house, how long it took to make his costume, the weather, whether or not Hermann has Halloween plans. “I kinda miss trick-or-treating,” Newton says. “Why is it so weird for adults to do it, anyway? It’s free candy. You don’t just stop liking candy once you finish puberty.”

“Mm,” Hermann says.

“I bet if I wore this everyone would think I’m a kid,” Newton says. “I could get as much free candy as I wanted. One of my neighbors used to actually give out toothbrushes when I was, like, twelve, can you believe it? I thought that only happened in dumb books. I don’t know why he did it, that shit was probably way more expensive than a bag of fucking candy corn. He wasn’t even a dentist.”

“Mm,” Hermann says again. The loud snap of one of the logs in the bonfire finally cracking in half; a chilly breeze rustles the red-orange-yellow leaves of the oak trees, the garland, the ends of Hermann’s hair, and, instinctively, Hermann shrinks in on himself with a shiver. He wishes he hadn’t forgone his warm parka for the sake of his costume.

Newton’s eyebrows knit together with concern. “Are you okay?” he says.

“Yes,” Hermann says. He does up the two buttons of his blazer and wraps his hands around his cup of cider, which, though well beyond lukewarm, is managing to give off just a bit of heat. Enough to keep Hermann’s fingers from stiffening up. “Er—just cold.”

“I have a sweatshirt inside, if you wanna borrow—”

“No,” Hermann says quickly. “It’s fine. Really.”

Newton stares at him. Then, without warning, he’s suddenly closing the wide gap between them and flinging an arm (soft, thanks to his fuzzy costume, warm, strong) around Hermann’s shoulders. Hermann’s shivering stops at once; his ears go hot; his body goes rigid. “Newton,” he stammers. “You—ah—you don’t have to—”

“Shut up,” Newton says. His breath smells like apple cider, the schnapps he spiked it with, candy he undoubtedly grabbed in handfuls from the cheap plastic pumpkin head on the buffet table. This close, even in the low flicker of the fire, Hermann can see that his nose and cheeks are dusted with freckles he’s never noticed before. (He’s never been this close to Newton before.) “And just—take that stick out of your ass a little. I don’t have cooties.”

There’d been a small bubble of warmth building in Hermann’s chest, just below his sternum, threatening to rise and burst from Hermann’s mouth in the form of something mortifying like I only pretend to hate you because I’m very, very fond of you, but Newton manages to successfully squash it and grind it under his heel into the dirt with that single jab. Hermann scowls. “And I don’t have a stick up my arse,” he snaps.

“Arse,” Newton parrots back in the worst faux-posh English accent Hermann has ever heard. “You know that’s the least sexy word ever, right?”

“I’m not trying to be sexy.”

“Oh, and you’re succeeding,” Newton says, “with flying colors.”

“I can’t stand you,” Hermann growls, and then he kisses Newton.

He does it mostly to shut Newton up—and, yes, he’s been gazing at those soft lips all night and wondering what it would be like, because Newton can’t seem to stop biting and licking them every bloody second, yes, he’s been wanting to take Newton’s smug, gorgeous little face in his hands and knock him down a peg since the very first lab they had to work together—but after Newton’s muffled exclamation of surprise becomes a very enthusiastic hum, after his mouth parts open eagerly, Hermann keeps going. He can taste the cider, the candy. He can feel Newton’s fingers sliding through his hair—

Newton’s claws sliding through his hair. “Newton,” Hermann says, making a face as he pulls away. “Are you still wearing your gloves?”

“Oops,” Newton says, dazed, wide-eyed, glasses dangling off his nose. “Am I?” He is: he looks between his hands, just as dazed, as if he’s forgotten that he’s wearing a costume and doesn’t typically have large green monster paws, and then he breaks out into giggles. “I am. Wow. Sorry. I—you kissed me!”

“I did,” Hermann says. He plucks at one of the gloves. “Now take these off. I don’t want you clawing my scalp up.” They’re truthfully nowhere near sharp enough to, but Hermann can’t say he enjoys the sensation of them regardless. Newton has strong hands with strong fingers he’d much rather feel.

“What,” Newton says, and grins and waggles the claws of one hand, “you don’t want to pretend you’re macking on some sexy monster?”

"Newton,” Hermann says, “if you want to ever kiss me again, you will take those damned things off now.”

“Fine. Grumpy.”

#newmann #maria's fanfiction tag #Anonymous

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lovemesomerafael · 5 years

Text

It’s Complicated Expectations

Source: @sherrykinss

Chapters 1-10 It’s Complicated: Surprise Party Read It On AO3

Once Frankie knew the reason for her symptoms, she gave in to her cravings, avoided smells that bothered her, and took naps. Especially once she got over the nauseous stage, she began to thoroughly enjoy being pregnant.

Rafael did not. Although he experienced a host of things he’d expected, he also experienced many things he never saw coming.

He had expected Frankie to have mood swings. So at five months, when he’d found her in their walk-in closet wearing only a pair of panties and crying because she was, as she put it, “already a planet,” he’d been prepared and happy to reassure her that she looked beautiful pregnant, just as she always did. A week later, when she bit his head off for asking what she wanted for dinner, he had apologized, drawn her a bubble bath, and rubbed her back while she soaked. But Rafael had not expected to have his own mood swings. He hadn’t expected to be moved to tears by seeing his baby’s heartbeat on the ultrasound for the first time. He hadn’t expected that the smallest hint that Frankie might be unwell would make him want to rush her to ICU. He hadn’t expected that learning he had a son would scare the living shit out of him.

That one he really should have seen coming. He admitted that he hoped for a girl because, by definition, that would mean that he and his child would have a different relationship than he’d had with his father. But finding out his baby was a boy had been a major shock, and sent him reeling.

Rafael didn’t hate his father. “Hate” was too strong a word. But he most definitely didn’t like his father. He never had. Mostly because his father had never liked him. Rafael’s father was a selfish son of a bitch who never should have had a child. But he thought that having children was something he needed to do to prove his manhood and, at first, he’d been pleased and proud to have a son. The problems began when he realized that the son he’d expected was not the son he had. He’d imagined a son like himself, a working class, beer and football (real fútbol, not that clumsy American crap) guy who was unapologetically physical and didn’t mind throwing a punch now and then. As it turned out, the only person Rafael Barba ever punched was his father. But that’s another story.

Lucia Barba had always grieved for both of them. Mateo Barba was a good man in most ways, and she loved him deeply. She was sad for him that he felt such disillusionment, especially when Rafael was a boy who would make any father proud. He was smart, clever, and good looking from infancy. From his first day of school, he was at the top of every class, excelled at the extracurricular activities he chose, and never caused trouble. He charmed anyone he cared to (which was not everyone he met, and Lucia liked that about him, too, because he got that selectivity from her). She wished that Mateo could let go of his imaginary son and see Rafael. But Mateo was a selfish man, and he was not a good father. He didn’t shy from expressing disappointment in Rafi, for nothing more than simply not being the child Mateo had fantasized. When he said those things, Lucia could see Rafi accept them. She watched him begin to believe them. And that, she could not allow.

Lucia did several things to ensure that Mateo’s faults would not become Rafael’s wounds and, for the most part, succeeded. The first thing she did was to confront Mateo and tell him, in no uncertain terms, the boundaries of what she would tolerate in Mateo’s interaction with their son, and the consequences for violating them. He tested her. He slept on the couch that night. He tested her again. He slept on the couch for a week. He tested her a third time and lived elsewhere for a month. He didn’t test her again. Mateo Barba may have been a selfish, short-sighted fool, but he loved his wife. It didn’t make for a good relationship between him and his son, but that’s why Lucia began to carefully, gradually, influence Rafi to value the opinions of other family members over those of his father. And in that, she succeeded brilliantly and raised a happy, self-confident son. It wasn’t ideal. Life never is.

When Rafael learned that he and Francisca were having a boy, he talked extensively to his mother about his relationship with his father, and his fears that he would make the same mistakes with his son. Lucia was a very, very smart woman who loved Rafael beyond anything, and he knew it. He loved her just as fiercely. So when she told him that she knew he was incapable of the things Mateo had said and done, he believed her. And she was right.

************

Rafael had expected that Frankie’s cravings would continue, and they did. She quickly learned to handle them in various ways. More than once, Rafael was awakened by the doorbell to find that Frankie was not beside him in bed. He would go out to investigate, and find her happily chatting with a delivery person bringing some food item she’d simply needed to have.

He had not expected that he would be the one to gain a troublesome amount of weight as Frankie’s pregnancy progressed. Frankie loved yoga, which she could continue while pregnant, although Dr. Brightman discouraged the hot yoga she especially liked. Besides, Frankie was supposed to gain weight. Rafael wasn’t. Never very interested in exercise, Rafael avoided weight gain by being choosy about what he ate. But that went out the window as egg rolls, tamales, and carrot cake began arriving after midnight on a regular basis. He ended up having to start jogging to avoid having to invest in alterations to all his suits.

He also hadn’t expected that he would have to become a regular at the all-night grocery a few blocks from their building. One typical night, when she was around seven months pregnant, Frankie woke him up moving around in bed.

“Are you OK?” He felt the familiar jolt of panic that hit every time he thought something might be wrong with her.

“I’m fine. I’m just having trouble sleeping.”

“What’s the problem?”

“I can’t stop thinking about Ben & Jerry’s. Chunky Monkey, to be precise.”

“Mi amor, I don’t think we have any left.”

“We don’t. But I’m dying for it.”

“So have it delivered.”

“I can’t. There’s a minimum purchase for delivery. But as long as you’re awake…”

“Can’t you just go back to sleep? I’ll get you a hundred cartons of Chunky Monkey tomorrow. During regular business hours.”

“They have it at Carlson’s. It’s only a couple of blocks.”

“No.”

“Please?”

“No. You sent me out for Chunky Monkey a couple nights ago, and you were asleep by the time I got back. Just go to sleep.”

“Really? Because you know, it’s not really me who wants it. It’s Baby Barba.”

“Then it’s a good opportunity to teach him that he can’t always get what he wants. Goodnight, Francisca.”

She cuddled up to him, belly against his back and one arm over him, and for a few moments they tried to go to sleep. Except now he was awake. Part of the reason was that there was a persistent tapping against him, low in his back, and Frankie was giggling.

“Is that…”

“Yes. It’s your son. He’s kicking you because he wants Chunky Monkey.”

“Damn it,” he sighed, throwing the covers back. He leaned over and spoke to Frankie’s now fairly extensive bump. “Next time, have a craving for something we have in the house.”

“I love you,” Frankie sighed happily as he got out of bed.

“Grrrrrrrrr.”

The next day, having lunch with his mother who was in Manhattan for a conference, he was tired and grumpy. When she asked him about it, he made the mistake of complaining to her about Francisca’s late-night cravings.

“What? What are you telling me? You said no? She’s carrying that baby around for nine whole months. She’s the one with the backache, and the stretch marks, and the constantly having to pee. It’s her he’s kicking in the ribs. You, what do you have to do? Nothing. You get up and you get her whatever she wants.”

She smacked him in the back of the head, in full view of everyone in the restaurant, including several of his colleagues. “I did not raise you to say no to your pregnant wife.”

************

Rafael had expected that Frankie would need a great deal of support while she was pregnant. He had not expected that he would need at least as much, or that supporting one another would bring them even closer than they had been before.

He sat on his couch, reading a professional journal, while Frankie slept with her head on his lap. His arm was around her, his hand splayed out on her rounded abdomen. This was very familiar. She needed a lot of naps, although she didn’t want to sleep too long. Every once in a while, Rafael could feel a movement that told him that, although his wife was asleep, his son was not. That always got his complete attention. Feeling the baby move made his existence entirely real to Rafael, who was still trying to grasp that he was a father.

It scared him. He was very glad that Francisca didn’t seem to be frightened at all of parenthood. Her confidence helped allay his fears. He remembered the conversation they’d had a while earlier, before she’d fallen asleep.

“Amado[1], you’re an attorney and I’m a physician. What could possibly happen that we couldn’t handle?”

“Well, I hope he doesn’t need an attorney until he’s at least out of diapers.”

Frankie laughed at that.

“I’m closer to fifty than forty, you know,” he groused.

“I do know that.”

“He’s gonna hate that he has such an old dad.”

“He will adore you as much as I do. Besides which, I think how it works is that he will make you feel younger.”

“All the other parents will think I’m his grandfather.”

“They better not say that around me. I don’t want to be a bad example to our son, but I might have to get medieval on anyone who said that.”

He wasn’t convinced. This one bothered him. “Why’d you marry such an old guy?”

“Because I love you. Anyway, I’ve never had any use for young men. They’re not even interesting until they’re at least forty. Are you trying to say that I chose my son’s father poorly? Because I would vehemently disagree with you.”

“And what a surprise that would be.” He’d smiled and kissed her.

“I chose Baby Barba’s father extremely carefully. I chose a man who speaks Spanish, so he can grow up bilingual, like we did. I chose a brilliant man who can teach him things, and an educated man so he’ll value education. I chose a man with a good job who will take wonderful care of him and teach him about responsibility and the value of work. Let’s see, what other criteria did I have? I chose a kind and caring man, of course, and a good singer for his lullabies, since God knows I can’t sing a note. A good cook, a snappy dresser, someone with a social conscience so he won’t grow up to be an asshat…”

“I get the idea.” Frankie loved to list Rafael’s good qualities, to which he felt duty-bound to object, although he actually didn’t mind. And this time, he really needed it.

“But, of course, I also had some criteria for me. I did have to conceive him, after all. So his father had to be extremely attractive, of course. And wonderful. And romantic. And good in bed, and an outstanding kisser, and…”

“All right, all right, enough.”

“Well, you asked.”

“Actually, I didn’t.”

“Sure, you did. You asked why I married you. And part of the reason is because you’re an excellent choice to be Baby Barba’s father.”

“We keep calling him Baby Barba. When are we going to give this kid a name?”

“His name is Eliséo.”

“We haven’t agreed on that.”

“We will.”

“You are going to have a difficult time convincing people you’re his mami when you call him Eliséo and his birth certificate says Javier.”

“Then let me name him Rafael.”

“I thought we’d finally put that one to bed. You can make his middle name Rafael if you must. But his first name is Javier.”

“Eliséo. If you want Javier, he can be Eliséo Rafael Javier Barba. Or even Eliséo Javier Rafael Barba, because you’re so handsome I can deny you nothing.”

“Claro[2]. That’s how you got in this situation in the first place. Now go to sleep. Javi needs his rest.”

“Javi won’t sleep. He will kick me and do somersaults and try to keep me awake, because he is your son and therefore delights in tormenting me.”

Rafael directed his next comments to Francisca’s belly. “I understand the impulse, mijo[3], but I’m the only one who gets to torment your mami. You have to behave.”

*************

Rafael had expected that there would be work to do preparing for their baby. And he had honestly not expected to be that involved. Wasn’t that what mamis and abuelitas did? Until it was his child for whom the preparations were being made, when he suddenly found that he wanted – needed – to be involved in every decision. Fortunately, neither Frankie nor Lucia felt particularly territorial about the preparations. Frankie was (mostly) charmed by Rafael’s fanaticism about the most minute details, and Lucia simply found it amusing. Besides, they both knew Rafael well enough not to be particularly surprised.

As they entered into the ninth month, Rafael and Frankie were on the floor of the nursery putting the crib together. Or at least attempting it.

“We have five college degrees between us, three of which are graduate degrees. We should be able to figure this out.” Frankie mused.

She was wearing a pair of pre-pregnancy yoga pants, which didn’t fit over her sizeable bump, so the waistband ran underneath it. The soft, long-sleeved top she was wearing was a maternity top, but it only reached about halfway down her belly these days, so she basically had clothes on everywhere except for her bump. As her belly had grown, she’d mostly adopted this style at home. Rafael found it adorable and oddly sexy.

“It would be helpful if these instructions were in either of the languages we speak.”

“Aren’t they printed in a bunch of languages?”

“Well, maybe the Mandarin or German are intelligible, but listen to this. ‘Take railing to part E, careful to attaching on side.’ Does that mean anything to you?”

“It means we should have bought a crib that was already put together.”

As they worked together to try to figure out the crib, their conversation returned to a familiar issue they’d been trying to resolve for weeks.

“There’s got to be another way,” Rafael grumbled around the several screws sticking out of his mouth as he worked on the crib.

“There is. You can chill out about it.”

“Our son is not wearing some other kid’s used diapers!”

“Oh, for heaven’s sake, Barba, that’s a ridiculous way to look at a diaper service. They’re totally clean and fresh and deodorized. Way better than we could do here. And you’ve already issued your absolute decree that we’ll be using cloth, so…”

“Don’t you care about his hygiene?”

“Of course I do, and a diaper service is perfectly hygienic. You’re getting a little weird about this, Barba.”

“How is it weird to want him to have clean diapers?”

“You want him to have sterile diapers untouched by human hands. Or backsides. That’s weird. Besides, we should probably get used to the idea that he’s not going to be pristine. He’s a little boy. He’s gonna eat dirt. Squash bugs and smear their guts on his pants. Wipe his nose on his shirt. Which brings me to the topic of clothes.”

“Here we go.”

“Barba, you’re insanely picky about baby clothes. I get it when it’s you and me – you, mostly – but you do realize what he’s gonna do to his clothes, right? He’s gonna be gushing bodily fluids all over them with alarming regularity.”

“I don’t care. He doesn’t need to wear hand-me-downs.”

“He’s going to wear them for about five minutes before he grows out of them, just like the baby who had them before. It just makes sense.”

“No. Next topic. My mami gave me the name of another possible nanny.”

Frankie bit her tongue. From day one, Rafael had refused to even talk about day care. Which turned out to be no problem because, as a baby shower gift, Frankie’s father had announced that he would be paying all the expenses for them to hire a nanny. It was a tradition he’d begun when his first grandchild was born, and had continued for each of the three he had thus far.

The problem was that Rafael was absolute hell on every applicant. Two had left their apartment in tears.

“Will you promise to be nice to this one? And try to see their good qualifications?”

“I can’t help it the ones we’ve seen so far were all hopeless.”

“They were all qualified. You have impossible standards.”

“It’s not about me. It’s about Javier.”

“Maybe Eliséo doesn’t need a nanny. Nannies are elitist. You hate elitist.”

“Many normal kids have a nanny.”

“He’ll be socially isolated.”

“He’ll be an infant.”

“What if we never find a nanny you can live with?”

“We will. She’s out there. Now we just have to find her.”

“Her. So he can’t have a man nanny?”

“Absolutely not. She has to be an abuelita who has raised at least ten kids of her own.”

“So no young nannies or non-Hispanics.”

“No.”

“Isn’t every one of those requirements flagrantly illegal?”

“Hush. It’s for Javi.”

******

Rafael had expected that their baby, and thus Francisca, would be big toward the end of her pregnancy. What he hadn’t expected was that he would want her as much when she was heavily pregnant as he ever had. And that she would still want him just as much.

One evening after she’d stopped working until the baby was born, Rafael returned home to find Frankie sitting on their couch, crying. As always, he was instantly terrified.

“Mi fresa, what is it? Are you all right? What do you need?”

“I’m stuck! I can’t get up from here. I’ve been trying for ten minutes and I can’t!” Her face streamed with tears and she was practically wailing.

It would have been funny – actually, it was funny – but Rafael was far too intelligent (and, by now, experienced at having a pregnant wife) to laugh. Instead, he went to her and put his arms around her, lifting her up from the couch and then holding her as she cried. It was fairly awkward to hold her these days, with a full-term baby bump between them.

“I want to be done being pregnant now! I walk like an elephant and I’m the size of Yankee Stadium! We can’t even have sex! I don’t like this anymore!”

“Mi amor, you do not walk like an elephant, and you are the same size you’ve always been. It’s Javier who’s getting bigger, which, after all, is as it should be. You’re beautiful. You’re gorgeous. And you know we can still have sex. We’re very adaptable, you and me.”

He led her into their bathroom and washed her face with a cold washcloth, telling her over and over how beautiful he found her and how much he loved her and Javier.

“His name is Eliséo,” she said, but calmly and with a small smile.

“I love him no matter what his name is. And I especially love you.” He began to kiss her, testing to see how she would react. Although he was right that they’d managed to find several ways to have sex even as her bump had grown, making love had become less frequent as it became more challenging. The baby made it impossible for her to rub against him as she normally would, but she reached for him and began to stroke him as they kissed.

“I love you, too. So much.”

“Do you really want to make love? Because there’s nothing I’d rather do than take you to bed.”

“Even though I look like I ate a globe?”

“I’m a big fan of geography. Can’t say I’ve ever been particularly turned on by a globe before, but on you it looks good.”

They chuckled together as they stood, kissing, until he tentatively took a step backward, pulling her with him. Her hands were becoming seriously distracting, and the sounds she’d begun to make seemed to confirm that she was on the same page. She followed him eagerly, beginning to undress him as they went. Once Frankie had Rafael naked, he leaned over and kissed her bump, as usual bare between her shirt and her leggings.

“Don’t look,” he whispered, as he slid her leggings down.

They had discovered that kneeling on the bed, with her grasping the headboard and him behind her, was so much fun they thought they would keep it up even when she wasn’t pregnant.

They dozed for a while afterward, satisfied and spooning under the covers. Frankie yawned happily when Rafael began to kiss her awake again.

“We forgot to eat dinner.”

“Mmmmmm. We did. I’m not very hungry, though.”

“Me, neither. I had a late lunch. What would you say to a hot bath and some Chunky Monkey?”

“Will you be there?”

“If you want me to be.”

“Yes, yes, yessssssssss.”

************

Rafael had expected that he would probably talk to his baby before he was born. He hadn’t expected that the baby would begin to respond to his voice. Rafael was so enchanted to feel his son move and kick when he spoke that, by the time he was born, Rafael had already spent countless hours talking and singing to him. Sometimes he would read to him, just because he would respond, and it made Frankie laugh.

Rafael had also expected that the birth of their son would be exciting, and maybe a little dramatic. He could never have been prepared for the actual event.

He and Frankie were lying in bed in the dark, Rafael singing lullabies partly for the baby, but mostly for Frankie, who was getting too uncomfortable to sleep very well these days. She’d been a bit restless since they’d gone to bed, but he was used to that lately. He noticed her give a start, but she seemed to relax afterward. This was also something he’d become used to, as the baby’s kicks became stronger.

A short time later, she gave a soft moan, followed by a sharp intake of breath. He stopped singing and lifted his head. “Francisca?”

“I-“ she winced and shuddered. Slowly and a bit thickly, she said, “I think… Will you turn on the light?”

Rafael hurriedly rolled over and flicked on his bedside lamp, turning back to see Frankie holding the blankets up to reveal that she was lying in what looked to him like a lake of blood.

“Barba,” she whispered, her face a mask of fear. “We’re in trouble.”

The next half hour was a blur. Rafael had no idea how he pulled his thoughts together enough to give their address to the 911 operator. The only reason he was able to call their neighbor, Mrs. Rifkin, was that they’d taped her phone number next to the phone for just this possibility. He had no idea what he said to her, but they had a plan, and she knew her role would be to open the front door of the building for the emergency crew if necessary, so she didn’t need much instruction.

Frankie was too sleepy. She’d been resting and trying to sleep when she’d begun to feel sharp pains low in her back and abdomen, but now she was even sleepier. She initially clasped Rafael’s hand so hard his wedding ring cut into his finger, but he said nothing. Now he would have welcomed that pain. Her grasp felt very weak. During the endless wait, he held her and tried to keep his own terror at bay for her, hiding his panic and speaking as calmly and reassuringly to her as he could. She appeared to be in pain, but she wasn’t saying anything.

“Francisca? Mi fresa, stay with me. Help is coming. I’m here. Stay with me. Francisca?”

She only moaned his name softly in response.

When the paramedics finally arrived, Rafael flung rapid-fire information and instructions at them as he led them at a run into the bedroom. One quickly assessed Frankie, while the other blinked at Rafael somewhat blankly. It took him a minute to realize he had been yelling at them in Spanish. In any event, they didn’t need much information their eyes couldn’t instantly provide. Working together, they very quickly started an IV and put an oxygen mask on Frankie, then wasted no time getting her strapped onto a gurney and rushing to the elevator.

There wasn’t much the paramedic sitting next to Rafael in the back of the ambulance could do other than assess Frankie and time her contractions by feel, because she was no longer responding. Rafael could only sit, holding her hand, and pray as the sound of the siren grated on his nerves until he wanted to scream. He had no idea how long the ride to the hospital was. He only knew it couldn’t have been as long as it felt.

The paramedics had been in contact with the hospital as they drove so that, when they arrived at the ambulance entrance, a team of nurses and doctors was already waiting for them. Rafael felt the tears begin when he saw that one of the team was Emma Brightman, Frankie’s OB/Gyn, whom he knew well. The team grasped the rails of the gurney and headed to the elevator at a dead run while the paramedics shouted Frankie’s latest vital signs to them.

On the elevator, Dr. Brightman spoke to Rafael even as she examined Frankie. “We were a little worried about this, if you remember. The placenta is a little closer to the cervix than we like. So we’re going to get this baby born right now. We’ll take good care of them.”

All Rafael could do was nod. He still had Frankie’s hand in his.

When the elevator doors opened, the team sprinted toward a set of shiny metal double doors with a small window in each and a warning sign saying “No Unauthorized Entry. Surgical Personnel Only.” Frankie’s hand was torn from Rafael’s as the team ran through the doors with her. A lovely woman with a lilting Caribbean accent touched Rafael on the arm.

“My name is Kimona. You’re Mr. Barba?”

“I don’t know…”

Kimona smiled kindly. “That’s your wife who just went into surgery?”

“Yes.”

“Then you’re Mr. Barba. They’re going to take great care of your wife and your baby. And I’m going to take great care of you. First, let’s get you into some scrubs.”

“Why?”

“Because you’re going to be meeting your baby in a few minutes.”

Kimona showed Rafael into a small dressing room where he floundered his way into scrubs, shaking with terror and confusion. This wasn’t the plan. None of this was the plan. Frankie wasn’t supposed to be bleeding so severely she lost consciousness. She wasn’t supposed to be having surgery. She was supposed to be sitting in front of him, resting against his chest, while he helped her sit up to push. That was the plan. That was what they’d prepared for in their classes. Not this. Not this fear. Not this nausea and screaming dread. There was never supposed to be any hint that he could lose her or his son. Or, God help him, both of them.

When he stepped back into the hallway, Kimona smiled calmly.

At that moment, a phone on the desk behind Kimona beeped softly. She gently took Rafael’s cell phone from him and turned to lean over the desk and answer the phone. She murmured a few words, then hung up. She smiled her soothing, placid smile at him.

“That was for you. Your son is here, and he is just fine. Shall we go meet him?”

“Francisca.”

“She is still in surgery, but she is stable. Dr. Brightman will take good care of her.”

She helped him put on a yellow, papery-feeling gown and tied it behind him, then led him through the double doors. Rafael noticed a large door with a window in it to his right. It looked like it led to an operating room. But Kimona led him into an examination room across the hall. In the room were two women, both dressed much like Rafael was.

“This is Dad,” Kimona said in her gentle, musical voice. “Mr. Barba, this is Dr. Keller, the neonatologist, and this is Jeannie, your son’s nurse.”

Rafael couldn’t speak. He couldn’t even breathe. He didn’t look at either woman, because his entire focus was on the small, red-faced infant kicking his legs and moving his arms in a clear plastic bassinet between them. He looked as confused as Rafael was, and seemed to be trying to decide whether to cry, much like Rafael himself.

“We’re just finishing, Mr. Barba. What’s your son’s name?” The neonatologist said as she finished doing something to the baby’s feet.

Rafael cleared his throat, but didn’t look away from his son’s face. “He… Ha… Javier. His name is Javier.”

Whatever Javier was thinking about his new circumstances, he suddenly felt better about things. He turned his head toward Rafael and his expression changed from unhappy to surprised.

Jeannie, the nurse, laughed. “Well, somebody knows Daddy’s voice,” she said, taking over with the baby now that Dr. Keller had finished with him. It seemed to take her no time at all to have him diapered and swaddled, and slip a soft, striped hat on his head. All the time, he didn’t take his eyes off of Rafael. Jeannie picked him up and stepped over to Rafael.

“Do you feel ready to hold him? I know this is a lot right now,” she said kindly, holding him so that Rafael could look at him.

“I… Yes. I want to hold him.”

Again, the baby reacted to Rafael’s voice. When Jeannie put him into Rafael’s arms, father and son gazed into each other’s eyes as though there was nothing else in the world. Rafael began softly to talk to his son in Spanish, telling him that he was his papá, and that he loved him, and that he thought his name was Javier but they would have to discuss that with his mami.

Saying that brought Rafael back abruptly, if not completely, from his baby’s spell. He looked up at the doctor and nurse. “My wife…”

“You sit here for a moment,” Dr. Keller said, indicating a rocking chair in the corner. “I’ll go across the hall and check on her.”

Rafael sat in the chair, moving so carefully that Nurse Jeannie had to hide a smile. First-time dads were the cutest, and this one seemed to have fallen particularly in love with his new son. Rafael allowed himself to lose himself in his baby again, knowing that the neonatologist was checking on Francisca. He felt an inexplicable urge to unswaddle him so he could see all of him again, count his fingers and toes, and make sure he was really here, and really all right. He settled for lifting the baby to his face and smelling him, giving him his first kiss while he was at it.

Dr. Keller returned a few moments later. “I checked on Mom. She’s doing well. Dr. Brightman’s still working on her, but she said that when your wife goes to recovery, she’ll come by and see you. She wanted me to tell you that everything’s going well, and Mom should do just fine.”

Dr. Keller and Nurse Jeannie busied themselves with other things to give Rafael some privacy as he burst into tears of relief.

*********

Frankie awoke slowly. She felt exhausted and battered, as though she’d been tumbled in a clothes dryer for a week. Gradually, she noticed several things. The first thing she noticed was that she was lying in a hard, unfamiliar bed in a room she’d never seen before, and it was light outside. Next, she noticed that she felt strangely different, as though her body was… deflated. That popped her eyes wide open, and she was just about to panic when she saw Rafael, sound asleep, slumped in an oversized recliner with a blanket half fallen off of his legs. At his left hand was a rolling cart with a clear bassinet on it, and she could see a baby asleep in it. Her baby. Their baby.

“Barba?” She called weakly. He awoke immediately and sat up so fast the blanket fell the rest of the way onto the floor.

He was instantly at her side, leaning over to take her hand and kiss her forehead, his stubble scratchy on her skin. “Good morning,” he said, his voice a little ragged but his smile radiant. “How do you feel?”

“I want to see him,” she whispered, eagerness showing through her exhaustion.

“Demanding as always,” he chuckled, but turned to lift the baby gently from his bassinet. He laid their son carefully in the crook of her arm, and she lifted up slightly so that she could peer at him. He blinked up at her and yawned before closing his eyes again.

Her face registered a hint of surprise as she smiled down at her son. “Oh. I guess you were right. This is Javier.”

Rafael laughed quietly. He leaned down to press the latch on the bed railing, putting it down so that he could sit next to Frankie on her bed, laying a hand gently on her leg.

“Can we make him naked? I want to see all of him.”

“He’s our son, Francisca. We can do whatever we want.”

She looked up at him, the hint of a smirk on her lips. “You’ve already done it.”

“Twice. He’s irresistible.”

They laughed softly as they unwrapped Javier’s swaddling and examined him. He wasn’t happy about it, so they re-swaddled him after only a few moments.

“He’s perfect,” Frankie said, looking adoringly up at Rafael. “Thank you.”

Rafael tried to be gentle as he leaned down and kissed his wife, long and softly. “I think that’s my line.”

An hour later, Frankie’s nurse had come in and helped her to begin nursing Javier for the first time. Rafael thought he had never seen anything so beautiful. He sat for a long time on the edge of the bed, just gazing at his little family but, after a while, he noticed that Frankie was wearing a thoughtful expression.

“What is it, mi fresa?”

“Maybe Eliséo is his brother,” she said.

“So we’re doing this again?”

“Well, not tomorrow, but yes. We said we didn’t want Javi to be an only child.”

“And even after everything, that’s still the plan?”

“As long as you’ll be there with me,” she said, reaching for Rafael’s hand. “If you’re with me, we can do anything.”

[1] Beloved

[2] Obviously

[3] My son

#law & order svu #law & order: special victims unit #rafael barba #raul esparza

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sallyface-incorrect · 5 years

Text

The Struggles of Having ADHD

- Only Being able to sleep either 2 hours or 16, there’s no in between. I am legit typing this at 3:02 am because I can’t sleep and I haven’t slept that much and it sucks. Summer is for sleeping, not for stress.

- Not being able to remember basic information about someone like their name, but being able to remember that they once told you that their great great aunt had a mole on her foot the shape of Texas. True story btw, sorry Amber.

- Feeling like your being rejected if your friend can’t make it to hang out with you because of family reasons. RSD is a bitch. Like the tiniest thing can make you feel rejected. Ie, your mom telling you not to be so loud, someone asking why your sneezes are so loud, someone asking you to return their pen, etc.

- Having your medication ware off/forgetting to take it and being the most annoying bitch in the galaxy. I once went on a school trip and my meds wore off and I ended up spending the 2 hour bus ride back annoying the guy who was trying to sleep in front of me, again, I am so sorry Max.

- IDK if it’s just me but, chewing on literally everything. Bottle caps, paper, fabric, rubber (my favorite), and much more. I used to get punished all the time for chewing on things I wasn’t supposed to. Nail biting is also a big thing. And so is hair chewing.

- Being told “You’re too smart to have ADHD”. Well Susan, I have a neurological devolpmental disorder, I’m not retarded.

- Either giving too much information or not enough when in conversation, and also bringing up really irrelevant things in the conversation like, I know we’re talking about the Louisiana Perchance but can I tell you about this one time it rained and I saw a snail?

- Being botherd by loud and/or repetitive noises. Pen clicking and high pitched sirens make me want to scream. They suckkk harder then Travis wants to suck Sal’s dick. And the worse is when people think you’re weird or that you have a problem with them for asking. I understand you like to click your pen and I’m so sorry it’s just so loud...

- Being afraid of your friends rejecting you. Again, RSD is a bitch. Like you’re afraid that one day your bestie will get up and leave and never come back and it’s all your fault and you suck and ughhhhhh. You’re also afraid their s/o / parents hate you and one day they’ll convince them to just leave you.

- Medication is a godsend but it’s also problematic. The stuff that I take fucks up my sleep schedule, my appetite, and make me tired and nauseous. It also gives me headaches and belly aches :(

- Either being so hungry that you also eat everything in your fridge or being so not hungry that even the concept of food disgust you. And sometimes, you even throw up because food is so gross and you’re gross and all that gross is inside you and eww.

- Intense, powerful migraines. They get worse in the winter months. Last year I took almost a week off of school because my migraines got worse and worse and worse and I couldn’t do it.

- Having no measurement of personal space or how to physically interact with someone. I just said hi, do I hug you, do I high five you, idk? Like idk how many potential friendships I’ve fucked up because I was too handsey.

- Being really particular about the type of clothing I wear. I love LOVE long sleeve shirts/ sweatshirts/ sweaters/ hoodies and shorts. I also love to wear socks around the house. I hate HATE wearing socks with shoes though, it makes me anxious. I also hate wearing certain types of pants. I literally only have 2 - 3 pairs of pants I’ll wear because pants sometimes feel like a tent and I hate that.

- Not being able to loose weight. I’m not fat, or chubby, I mean I have abs for God’s sake! It’s just that I have thick ass thigh I h a t e and I wish I could just get rid of them but my medication prevents me from loosing all that weight. On the bright side, I can eat a lot and not gain weight either.

- Having certain little routines you can’t skip. For example, every morning I must shave my legs and brush my hair or the world will end. I also must have all the doors and windows closed or else I’m gonna scream.

- Also idk if this is a problem for anyone else but doors and windows being open. I can’t stand it, I mean please, I don’t care that you’re just coming up for 1 thing but p l e a s e for the love of g o d, close the door that leads to upstairs. Having it open just isn’t right.

- Hyperfixiating on something for soo long that you forget to do basic hygiene like shower, use the bathroom, brush your hair, brush your teeth. It can get you in really big trouble but at least the job is done.

- Having a comfort item. Like I have this stuffed lamb whose name is “Lambchop” but I call “Lambie” and I sleep with them each and every night and carry them around the house with me when I’m home and if I’m upset I NEED to cuddle them bacuse it’s the only thing that will make the world go away.

- Being insanely good at certain academics and shitty at others. For example, when I was in 5th grade I was reading at an undergrad level and had the ability to understand science concepts a senior would be learning but my math was at the level of a second graders.

- Idk how to describe it but like, doing movements half way and the forgetting about them. Like this one time I was at a piano recital and I went to reach for something and forgot what I was reaching for so I just kinda held my hand up in a grabbing motion for half a song and then forgot about it until my mom reminded me to put it down.

- Not being able to understand that people don’t want to hear about your hyperfixiation. I’ve had 2 cases of this in my life, my “ghosts are definitely really and now this is my only personality triat” and my “I’m not a weeb but Tokyo Ghoul is so good now let me tell you all about the plot.” (Tokyo Ghoul gang REPRESENT)

- Having 3 different moods, hyperactive, normal, and cold. Like you’re normal most of the time but sometimes you’re sooo hyper that your an entirely different person, or sometimes you’re sooo distant you’re a different person too.

- Not being able to identify your emotions very well. Like, this guy just told me that my dad and my bestie are asshole who deserve to die in a fire, what am I feeling? Am I sad? Angry? Scared? Do I think this is funny? Am I gonna laugh? Cry? Idk, throw hands? Or the dreaded crush. Do I have feelings for this person or do I just want to be really good friends? Do I hate them? Love them? Am I gonna cry the next time I see them? Last time we hung out was fun but idk???

- Also like I mentioned, romance/sexuality is hard. Last time I dated I dated this guy I really liked, or at least I thought I did. We dated for three months before I blew it off because he asked to put his arm around me and it was weird when I said yes. Also sexuality. Idk if this is a problem for anyone else or just my bisexual ass. Like it’s so hard and I really like guys but hey, girls are hot. And like I like guys more than girls?? Sometime it makes me feel really fake.

- Really enhanced weird hearing. I know at least 80% of my classes drama because I have superhearing and I’m a literal hearing god bow down, bitch. I can hear the smallest of sounds and such, but for some goddamn reason I can’t understand how loud I’m being.

- Extestensial nihilism and just being cool about it. Like, dude, idk if there’s a god out there? I’d like to think there’s some sort of Devine power and we have a purpose but idk, we probably don’t have a purpose. I mean, we’ll be forgotten after we die anyway unless we’re Tom Holland. And love probably doesn’t exist either and it’s only stigmatized by movies and books and media and we’re all gonna get married and be miserable for ever and such. But like does it really even matter? In the end we’re all alone so go off I guess.

- Being really sensitive to smell. Certain smells drive me through the roof. For example, I have an extreme fish allergy and even smelling the slightest hint a salmon can give me a migraine so intense I think I’m dying. Or essential oils. Ughh I hate those. They send me through the roof.

- Being able to remember something you heard in a YouTube video you watched back when you were nine but not being able to remember when you birthday is some days because it really be like that.

- Being really good with little kids. Idk if everyone is like this but I am very childish myself and little kids love me. I have at least 3 little boys in 1st - 3rd grade who think I’m their girlfriend and 8 little girls in kindergarten - 5th grade who think I’m their big sister, it’s really sweet.

- Always apologizing is a big thing for me. When I was a child I used to get in trouble for saying sorry when I did anything and that carried to teen hood. Last year at my dance class my teacher noticed this and tried to help me break my habit god bless you Christine.

Thank you for coming to my Ted Talk bois. ADHD sucks but I know you can do it👌🏻

#aaa i know this doesn’t fit this blog’s aesthetic #i just felt like making it #sorry guys #not a quote #adhd #add #adhd rsd #adhd inattentive #adhd awareness #tw mental health #mental health

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takaraphoenix · 4 years

Text

Review: The Rise of Skywalker

Gotta preface this before we get to the actual review for this movie.

Because... I’ve seen so many people claim that this was sooo bad and sooo badly written and honestly, ever since I joined this fandom, I’ve seen so much hate toward the sequels and so many people claim how they’re “ruining Star Wars” and I feel like... a whole lot of people really need to divorce themselves from the idea that Star Wars ever was this flawless franchise. Because it wasn’t.

Even before the sequels, the majority of this fandom has actively hated half the movies in this franchise. The prequels get so much shit all the time. And even now with the new movies, trilogies aside, Rogue One is relatively widely liked but Solo gets the prequel treatment of having a certain part of the fandom love it wildly and the majority dislike it.

Star Wars, from the very first one on, was always a mixed bag of good moments and bad movies, good writing and bad writing. It was always just a very silly, fun space adventure and I don’t really see why there are these insanely high expectations for it are coming from, because I don’t see a base for them in the previous movies...?

That being said, I think that Rise of Skywalker was a very worthy ending for the universe. And yes, not trilogy, universe. I know they’ll force more Star Wars, but let’s be real... the last Skywalker died, this is the end of this saga. And I think it was a good ending, it came full-circle in many aspects.

I joked about how Rey would find her dad just for him to die since so far she’s two for two in the “finding mentor and mentor dies within this movie” category and while... they didn’t find her dad, she did build a mentor-relationship with Leia. Who then died.

And I know this one is... different than the others, because Carrie Fisher died, rather unexpectedly so. I wonder if it had changed things had she lived.

I was genuinely surprised to see her in the movie, to be honest. I had expected the obnoxious opening text to summarize how Leia made a heroic sacrifice and the movie itself then opening to a large, dignified funeral scene for both, the character and the actress who played her.

I liked that they brought Lando into this; with everyone else having returned, that was really important. And I kind of like the little thing they set up at the end there, that Lando would take the enslaved kids and help them find their way back to the families they had been separated from.

Ben’s redemption was absolutely no surprise whatsoever, seriously this is a Disney movie and it’s a Star Wars movie, they were always going to redeem him anyway. The Reylo, admittedly, was a bit of a surprise.

With the whole thing where Finn really wanted to tell Rey something and how Finn and Rose were at a distance now after the last movie, I half thought they may be pushing toward that direction after all.

(I also half thought they were going to go Poe/Rey because... for some reason they decided to have that dynamic just fully mirror Han/Leia... even though it seemed wildly OoC to me personally, for the both of them, to be so... short-tempered with someone?)

But mentioning Rose, that was one thing I didn’t like. After how important she had been last movie, she was just completely reduced to background character now and it was very undeserved. She didn’t partake in the missions, though they had them at least ask her to go along, she barely got anything to do and didn’t really get to interact with any of them, not even really Finn. And don’t get me wrong, I didn’t want that romance, but I definitely wanted that friendship - and I had hopes that now that they were all united, I’d get some female bonding and girls being friends between Rey and Rose. But they kind of... forgot that they made her a main character last movie.

I think that hinting at Poe having a past-lover-he-may-still-love was tiresome and unnecessary, but it’s Disney so I genuinely wasn’t expecting that not to happen. Especially with how wildly loved Stormpilot was; I mean come on that was the only reason the Finn/Rose happened last movie already, because Disney got uncomfortable with people shipping Them Gays. My shipper-heart however absolutely took the co-generals and ran with it.

(Don’t get me started on that bullshit 0.2 second scene of two women kissing in the background. Genuinely fuck you, Disney, that’s not representation, that’s having something so you can try to defend yourself when people call you homophobes for always forgetting gays exist, but it was little enough so you can easily cut it out to milk China for money.)

I wished they would have... given Finn more. When we had that scene of him alone with that other deserting Stormtrooper and they talked and clicked so well, I kind of hoped she was his sister - since they had taken all the children. And I don’t know, I’m still kind of really hung up on the whole child slavery thing and all the trauma Finn had gone through; I wish he would have gotten something as closure.

There was one thing I genuinely absolutely hated and that was the bullshit Palpatine thing.

Don’t get me wrong, it’s still 100% on brand for Star Wars and I legit should have seen it coming after they plastered his ugly mug onto every poster, but that doesn’t make it good writing.

However - to stay in line with my opening preface - it already wasn’t good writing the first time around. I still dislike the whole “Luke, I am your father” nonsense. I absolute loathe the trope of “hero has to face off dark family member they didn’t even know was a family member”, it’s so cheap and forced because just how fucking likely is it, that all circumstances led them there?

That Rey, of all people, ran into Finn and got to the Resistance to get involved in this whole war to face off against her evil grandpa? C’mon.

Really genuinely from the bottom of my heart would have preferred Rey Nobody.

But that’s... the things you gotta accept in Star Wars, so I digress.

What I am absolutely not over is how they just straight up made Reylo soulmates...? Like? They really did that? I mean, come on, explaining their literal mind-link as them being two halves of the same and as bringing life? How was that anything but a description of soulmates...? Amazing.

I’m very salty about them killing Ben off though.

I absolutely hate that lazy writing tool of taking a villain, making him do a redeeming thing and bahm they will now be celebrated a hero without having to do much work on making up for past wrong-doings. Instead of living a life of doing good to make up for their past, they just do the Heroic Sacrifice and the writers are done here. (Side-eying Luke Castellan particularly hard here.)

He should have lived. Especially with how they set it up! They both give life, they both belong together to give life? How did that not conclude in them sharing a life-force...? Ben should have lived so he can do good in the future.

I like when previously villainous characters have to work to make up for their past deeds. I really do.

One last thing before I’m done! I HAVE A FAVORITE DROID! I LOVE D-0. HE’S A GOOD BOY. *^*

One of the most obnoxious things about the original trilogy, for me, were the droids. I do not like either C-3PO or R2D2 (yes, R2 looks adorable, but the untranslated beeping, especially in longer sequences and conversations, was just obnoxious).

BB-8 is adorable and has that dog-like charm to him, but that D-0 actually talks and is so cute? Like, unused to human kindness but slowly learning about it? Now that is a good droid.

So... I think that’s all I have to say about the movie? It was a good ending to the saga, it went full-circle by revealing that Palpatine was behind it all along and we got rid of that bitch for good now, it gave a lot of closure and had some really got points in it.

#Star Wars #The Rise of Skywalker #TRoS Spoilers #Star Wars Spoilers #SW Spoilers #Movie Review #Phoe's Movie Reviews

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roseamongroses · 5 years

Text

Antithesis (4): “these are a few of my favorite things”

Summary: For their Junior project, Roman is unceremoniously paired with Dmitri.

He’s hardly interacted with the guy, a strange occurrence since Virgil has had a weird/unexplained hate-hate relationship with him since middle-school. But it isn’t like he’s complaining. Dmitri’s cute, he compliments Roman, and damn can he paint.So Roman may or may not catch feelings, and he may not be wiling to uncatch them anytime soon.

–Dmitri returns the sentiment.

[General Warnings:] Misgendering, Past Misgendering, Past Bullying, Mild Sexual Content, implied emotional abuse, Cursing[Tags/mood:] highschool au, project troupe, fluff and angst but its all good, chat fic, teen stress, its flordia no snow we die like men[Pairing:] Roceit (Roman Sanders/ Deceit Sanders), hinted future/possible logince/roloceit/loceit [Characters] Roman Sanders/Deceit (Dmitri) Sanders, Virgil Sanders, Logan Sanders, Patton Sanders, Remy (Sleep) Sanders, Nate Sanders, Dragon Witch (Diana)

(1)(2)(3) (4) (5)

Rem: im sorry patton but no, absolutely not, unfriended, blocked, deleted

Patton: :( But I’m right tho

Rem: the day i accept that is the day i wilingingly give up my crop tops for a sensible polo shirts, cargo shorts, boat shoes, and white socks

Ro: patton hon is he being mean? do i need to get rid of him?

Rem: IVE KNOWN YOU LONGER, SINCE WE WERE BUT BABS , I SHOULD BE HIGHER ON THAT PRIORITY LIST BUCKO

Rem: plus you wont be all knight in shining armor once you find out patton thinks flordia is apart of the south (™)

Ro: …..

Ro: patton you’re blocked.

Patt: D:

V: sorry im never anti patton, you fake friend

V:I mean he’s not technically wrong?

V: the redneck culture does exist here, we have relatively similar dialects, similar weather

Patt: !!!!

Ro: patt the day i actually block you is the day the moon does like it does in umbrella academy, but v you’re on thin fucking ice

V: bitch i broke the ice years ago, you only unblocked me cause mom told you to

Rem: spOILERS

Ro: shhhh

Ro: and the GRACE PERIOD WAS OVER LAST YEAR YOU OLD MAN

Rem: I TAKE MY TIME OK

Ro: excuses excuses

V: so im assuming i won this arguement for patt right?

Ro: no. and like legit v that only applies to like,,,,parts of flordia,,,the northern part mainly but like only parts

Ro: flordia might be similar but like,,,,it's historically, culturally, geographically, and politically different then other states that are called southern states,,, t

Ro: just asked a southern boy bout it he said, “fuck no, it's a spanish colony,”

V:what about Texas huH

Ro: Texas was a whole ass country at one point, texas still acts like it’s a country, Texas is whatever Texas wants to be

V: I wish I could annex myself from this class work

Lo: God, mood.

---

“Oh, I could kiss you,” Roman said, as soon as Dmitri turned around to hand him the icecream cone. The stand was small, the old lady running it, giving them a cheerful goodbye.

When Dmitri said the museum wasn’t stuffy, it was quite literally outside. Seashell decorated pathways stretched and weaved through elaborate gardens.

Everywhere was a sight to behold, from the blossom of flowers dripping every color imaginable to trees that might as well have been sprawling giants, often dipping into the path way in a tangled, ivies creeping up it's weathered branches. In the midsts of it all, sculptures were effortlessly woven into the park, abstract student projects and places of memory creating almost a cohesive story amongst the beautiful chaos.

“Dee, when I said take me anywhere,” Roman licked his ice cream greedily, “I thought we’d go to like a starbucks- not a park more attractive than anyone I’ve ever seen.”

“So the way to your heart is food and pretty things?” Dmitri smiled.

“You bet your ass it is,” Roman said, leading them down a trail with less people, “My first crush was on this dude who gave me a seashell, I went home and told Momma and Mom I wanted marriage.”

Dmitri sipped his own water, “Do you still have it?”

“Of course, it was a gift, ” Roman hummed, “‘Bout cried when I got it,” He looked up to see Dmitri staring at him, “What? Do I have something on my face?”

Dmitri didn’t look away, “No, you just don’t have the right to be so fuckin’ adorable.” He said as if fact.

“How is me being a a hoarding goblin adorable?” Roman said, suddenly very conscious that he did not in fact want Dmitri to stop looking at him, but also very much aware that he might combust if Dmitri didn’t stop.

“Huh, are you embarrassed again?” Dmitri laughed, voice pleasant. “My aunt never keeps anything I gave her, it’s nice that you do...” He explained.

“Oh.”

—-

<3BestofMoms<3: Ro, do we need anything at the store?

R: v sent a list through notes this morning

<3BestofMoms<3: Okay, found it, thanks <3

R: np <3

<3BestofMoms<3: Are you going to be back for dinner or is that boy gunna be hogging you all day? I'm not quite sure he has earned the gift that is all day roman time

R:mommmm

<3BestofMoms<3: :)

---

As the sun stretched across the sky, the two had wandered into the more shadowed parts of the park. Roman’s initial giddiness slipping in a more lethargic satisfaction as he explored as much as he could, Dmitri’s eagerness to show him around and introduce him to the park’s employees hardly faltering.

Dmitri glanced at the time, “You ready to head back?”

Roman was crouched, admiring the tiny statues of walking fish, “No, I want to live here,” he said, “But why? Does she need you to do something?” He fumbled with the buttons of his shirt as he stood up, because dammit, clothes are hard and the sun is hot, okay?

“No, she thinks I’m studying for a class I told her I dropped, ” He said, “You just seem tired.”

“I am no--” Roman scrunched his nose, “The fuck, Dmitri, I am tired.” he narrowed his eyes, “How did you know that, I didn’t even know that.”

Dmtir made a show of looking Roman up and down, “I just knew,” He did not elaborate, and Roman made a sound that was vaguely alarmed in nature.

“V was right, you’re the worst, won’t even teach me your fancy magic tricks,” Roman grumbled, taking Dmitri's hand, and tucking himself under their arm.

“Somebody's grumpy, you sure you don’t want me to take you home?”

“I’m sure,” Roman, swayed a bit, “We don’t even need to stay here...”

He sighed, “I don’t know you seem pretty….”

“Dm-itri,” Roman murmured slow, with a half smile, and Dmitri’s mouth dried.

“Roman…”

“Please?”

“You’re practically falling over yourself,” Dmitri said, “You know we can always come back?”

Roman’s eyes perked up at that, “It's a date.” he said, and Dmitri couldn’t stop himself from flushing and looking away.

He liked that a bit too much.

!!!taglist!!!

@daflangstlairde

#Roman Sanders #Deceit Sanders #Sympathetic Deceit #Patton Sanders #Remy Sanders #Virgil Sanders Mentioned #Sanders Sides #sanders sides fanfiction #roceit #romantic roceit #cursing #crossposted #Antithesis

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