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hoe-doroki · 3 years

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stay

A response to this ask:

Reader having a silent mental breakdown and trying to hide it with Bakugo and iida!( bakugo’s fine if not iida)

warning: detailed descriptions of panic attack, self-loathing

pairing: Bakugou x gn!reader

genre: hurt/comfort

word count: 2.2k

edit: I no longer write x reader but here’s my old masterlist - mobile | desktop

It seemed stupid to have any kind of mental illness around someone like Bakugou.

Bakugou had experienced near death multiple times by his mid-twenties had had witnessed the worst of the world first hand. His teens had been littered with trauma and, as an adult, his work was constantly throwing him into circumstances where his body, his life was at risk. He did this day in and day out and it wasn’t even a question. He survived it all and, more than that, he let the world think it was easy.

Sometimes just getting out of bed wasn’t easy for you.

You felt like your body was rotting. You’d been on the couch all day and it smelled stale from the layers of lazy sweat you’d gotten on it. From the shower you hadn’t taken and the hair you hadn’t touched. But was it rot from the outside in—something a bit of soap and buffing could slough off—or was it the inside out? Harder to reach, harder to fix. As your brain sent your every thought clenching on your veins, your vital organs, you couldn’t help but wonder if it was both. Rotted from the inside out and the outside in.

You tensed when you heard the door to your shared apartment click, a key being shoved into the lock. Over the cold numbness that you’d felt all day, a shot of panic sprinted through your bloodstream as a million ways to lie popped into your head. You popped off the couch and tried to think of a way to look busy, so you ran to the kitchen and started boiling some water.

This was something Bakugou couldn’t see. The last thing you wanted, the last thing he needed was for you to be another person that he had to save. Another person to risk himself for.

You eyed Bakugou when he came in, shoulders drooped, gait wide. He looked tired, but otherwise normal. You usually tried not to worry yourself with the cuts and scrapes he often showed up with after work, and, so long as he was walking, he usually told you to calm down and that he was fine. You weren’t going to test it today.

“Hi, babe,” you said, putting strained effort into your pitch, your tone, your face. Maybe your voice was too high, maybe the smile spread a bit too wide, so you turned back to the water, watching it heat.

“Hi,” Bakugou greeted as he kicked off his sneakers, voice gravely as it usually was after a shift. He was in civilian clothes now, having showered and changed at the agency. A black tee and jeans that never fit quite right on his narrow hips and tall frame. “What’re you up to?”

“Oh, I, um…” You looked down at the water, still cool enough to stick a finger into. You’d done nothing all day, having skipped out on all your classes with half-assed emails sent to the teachers. The idea of going had been too much to take—for reasons you had no language for—so you’d wallowed on the couch as the hours of the day had bled away. So the question felt like an interrogation about to put a scalpel to your flaws. “I’m just heating some water for tea. Was gonna get started on dinner.”

“What were you gonna make?”

Bakugou was in the kitchen now, coming up behind you to press a kiss against your temple. Your heart rate increased but not in the good way. Not in the way that it should. Instead of flutters it was pounding, smacking against your ribs in a reminder that he was too close, you were too visible—you might explode and you would hurt him.

“I, um, I wasn’t sure,” you said, the answer sending shameful heat to your cheeks. And then you were slapped the other way by how stupid that was. Stupid, stupid, stupid.

“Okay,” Bakugou said, going to the fridge. “I’m sure we can figure something out.”

Bakugou was always insistent on having a stocked fridge. With his job and you in your master’s program it was hard to find the time to grocery shop, much less eat consistent meals together, but those were the kinds of things that Bakugou prioritized. The things behind his sharp persona and shrinking legacy of reckless anger that made him a good boyfriend. An amazing partner and enviable roommate.

And what did you offer him? Emotional instability without just cause? A nascent—at best—career while he was climbing the pro hero charts every cycle?

Who were you kidding? You hadn’t even gone to class. You hadn’t done any of the work that you needed to do—the evening was a wash now, so you wouldn’t catch up. You were just wasting everyone’s time, like you always did.

“Hey, babe?”

By the tone of his voice, you realized that Bakugou had called you multiple times. Your eyes flicked toward him, but your head felt heavy to lift. “Hmm?” you asked, squeezing every last bit of breath into that hum.

“The water’s boiling.” Bakugou walked over to you, two mugs with teabags slumped at the bottom. He set them on the counter and put a hand on your shoulder, turning you a degree closer to him.

“Oh,” you intoned, pulling away and turning off the fire. Stupid. You were about to grab the pot when Bakugou dropped his hand down to your elbow, giving a firm squeeze.

“Are you okay?”

You ignored his gesture to stop and reached for the kettle, putting all of your effort into keeping your hands steady as you poured hissing water in one mug and then the other. Doing something was the only thing keeping you upright as your thoughts continued to swirl in your head poisoning each brain cell you had. You hadn’t done anything worth living for today. But goddamn it, if you couldn’t make these mugs of tea, then you should just walk out of the apartment and let Bakugou be better off without you.

“Woah, woah, what’s happening?”

Bakugou’s hand was on your chin as he pulled your face a little too roughly towards him. Or, rather, it wouldn’t have been rough, if you weren’t resisting it. But you didn’t want him to look you in the eye. See what a failure you were. Someone who couldn’t even overcome a bad emotional day to go to class while he’d been out saving lives—as usual. He took the pot from your white-knuckled grip and set it on the stove.

“Why are you crying?”

Were you? You hurriedly brushed a hand under your eyes and they came away slick, the water hot as the tea you were steeping.

“The…The steam…” you started, prepared to lie and lie and lie until there was nothing real left. The real stuff was too hard to hold. “I think…It just must have irri…tated my eyes.”

Your breathing was running away with you, chest heaving as you pulled away and faced the other direction. Your attempts were thin, too threadbare to hide behind. And your boyfriend wasn’t nearly stupid enough to be fooled, even by your best efforts.

“Babe, tell me what’s wrong,” Bakugou said forcibly, stepping around to face you again.

His eyes were searching for yours, but you held fisted hands to your cheek as you turned away from him. Now you could feel the tears streaming, and you couldn’t turn them off. But what was there to tell him? That you were just a big, stupid idiot who cried for no reason? That watching him become a better man only emphasized how totally shit you were? That when the two of you were on the street together, you knew that people wondered what a guy like him was doing with a person like you?

“I just want you to stop crying,” Bakugou said, and you could hear him getting desperate, only making you feel worse. You were biting your lips closed to keep the sobs from tearing out, but that only made embarrassing little huffs come out your nose, whimpers sneak past the back of your throat.

You couldn’t stop crying. How could you stop it when you didn’t understand what had started it?

“I’ll just,” you hiccupped, backing away from him. “Just give me…I’ll be fine, just give me a minute.”

“Fuck that,” Bakugou said, grabbing your wrist. “Do you want me to go because you want me to go, or because you think you deserve to be alone?”

The words felt like a trick, a riddle from some fairytale turned nightmare intended to make you fail either way. Telling him the truth would trap him in whatever trip wires had you tied in knots right now. But, at the same time, he was expecting the lie. He wasn’t letting you save him from this.

But why? He was always saving people. Why, for once, couldn’t you save him from you?

“Idiot,” Bakugou said, pulling you in to him. You cried harder, the weight of your failure dropping in your well and spilling more tears out of you. “Why would I leave you alone?”

A sob crashed out, breaking through haphazard letters of attempted defense. He needed to go; him seeing you like this only made it worse.

“It, um,” Bakugou’s voice was low, a register that was unfamiliar even to you, unsteady and unrehearsed. “It seems easier to be alone. I know it does. But…you’ve shown me that’s not true, so just. Let me show you the same, okay?”

You could feel how hard he was trying as he pressed you into his chest and you finally, finally let him. The sobbing made you weak in the knees, light in the head, but he held you. He held you up, held you close, and he wasn’t letting go.

Everyone always talked about how crying felt good. About it being a release that helped you process your pain. And maybe that was right when talking about grief or loss, but not this. These tears felt like nothing more than splashing in the masturbatory wallowing hole of your self pity. Embarrassing and stupid.

“Why?” you finally whispered when the sobs subsided a bit, letting you keep enough of the air in to at least say that.

For a moment, Bakugou didn’t say anything, and you wondered if you’d imagined the words. If you were imagining the whole thing and he really had left like you’d wanted. But then you heard breath catch in the back of his throat as he seemed to try and fail to find the words a couple of times.

“In another world,” he finally started. “I’d come home from a day of work fucking exhausted, slump on the couch, eat, and pack it in to go to bed before starting all over the next day. And I’d probably be fine with that. But I’d be a fucking idiot, because coming home to you makes it worth coming home.”

Your breathing was steadying as he talked and you could feel the tears cooling against your cheek, against his wet t-shirt.

“Even with you looking like a damn mess like this,” Bakugou said and you could hear the smile in his voice. His smile, which had grown less rare over time, was always so wide that it made his words sound different. Warmer. They managed to draw a haggard chuckle out of you. “I’m happier just to be around you than convincing myself that being lonely at the top is the best way.”

“I don’t want to drag you down from the top,” you said. “Your company shouldn’t be dead weight.”

“Dead weight?” Bakugou repeated, pulling back to look at you. “Dumbass.”

He pulled you in again, both of his arms around the back of your head so that you were nearly smothered in his chest.

“That’s the stupidest fucking shit I’ve ever heard. You’re fucking incredible, and if that’s why you’re crying today, then you and me have to do some talking.”

Another laugh managed to crawl its way out of you and Bakugou let you pull back to breathe again.

“Are you okay now?”

‘Okay’ felt like such a far ways away. But you were above water again. Somewhere next to okay, distance undetermined.

“I’m surviving,” you decided.

Bakugou looked at you, a couple different things flashing over his eyes, too quickly for you to identify. “Well, that’ll do for now, but we’re not settling for that. Just talk to me. I’m not the best at this, but…I want to be better at it.”

In that moment, you remembered that Bakugou wasn’t perfect either. That he constantly had voices in his head telling him that he wasn’t doing enough and, not only that, he had the public constantly critiquing his attitude, his skills, his work. That, to some degree, this was already something you were going through together.

“I think you’re better at it than you think.”

Bakugou smiled again, this one not so wide, but more private. “You too, he said. Whatever bullshit you’re telling yourself—you’re better than you think.”

He pulled you in close again, and this time you sunk into it, enjoying his warm muscles, the way that his hair was still a little damp from the shower. You weren’t sure if anything had changed—all your problems were still present as they’d ever been. But yet, there was one thing. Now, with Bakugou’s arms like a buttress to your shaky but standing foundation, you, paradoxically, hoped that he would stay and stay and stay.

#bakugou x reader #bnha x reader #bakugou katsuki #bakugo katsuki #katsuki bakugou #katsuki bakugo #bakugou #bakugo #bnha #boku no hero academia #mha #my hero academia #mha x reader #hurt/comfort

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kandi-tutorials · 3 years

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Masks and Remaking Kandi Blah Blah

this is my THIRD time writing this post up

Soooo let's talk about that briefly. Why would you remake kandi?

Maybe the string is wearing thin. Maybe you don't like a color you used, or the type of beads or string you used. Regardless of, the general consensus is that remaking kandi you were traded for a reason beyond changing the string to renew it isn't a good idea. Obviously kandi is ever-changing, and this idea might change. Who knows?

Once you've decided you wanna go through with the remaking process, you've gotta disassemble it. I'd suggest starting from the bottom or top and just cutting the string, taking off the affected beads, and cut again. I'd advise going slow so you don't lose any beads. If you're also like me and have really bad vision-- hello y'all-- I'd suggest sorting apart colors you get confused. Otherwise you're gonna be shining a flashlight in your bag of beads for an hour wondering 'is this black? or dark blue?' Plot twist: it's neither and it's dark purple.

Today I'm gonna be using a modified version of this pattern by T3TR1S, with the old mask pictured below. Never too late to start on Halloween preperations, right?

[Image ID: An uncropped photo of a kandi mask. It's 21 wide by 14 tall. The straps are a dark blue. The mask is black with a red and light blue alternating border, and the mask has a libra sign on it in a more cerulean color. End ID]

look i felt too lazy to crop that last night.

Regardless of the pattern you decide to use, it's gonna look something like this when you enlargen it/click on it.

[Image ID: A picture, once again 21 high by 14 wide, of the patten for the mask above. This is the unmodified version. It lacks the red and light blue border, and the sign on it is more of a darker teal color. End ID]

There's no numbers though, right? If you recall from one of my multi-stitch tutorials, this is because masks can be started from a few different places and can be finished in a couple of ways that're all similar. Having numbers would likely get confusing.

First, you're gonna be chosing a place to start your mask. I personally like to pick somewhere around the middle of the pattern. You need to start your mask from one of the straight sides, and there has to be at least two beads to start off with. For instance, starting from the two beads at the bottom of the left side would work, but using the very last bead-- only one of them-- wouldn't. This is because of how brick stitch-- or more commonly called peyote stitch-- works, which will be explained shortly. AKA, right now.

First, you're gonna wanna grab some string. I suggest about two arm's length is good for now. Take that, and fold the two ends together like so--

[Image ID: a picture of me holding a piece of pink string. It's folded together, and the two ends of the string are pressed together. End ID]

This is why we need where we're starting to have two beads, because that's how we start peyote stitch! I'm not going to go too much into detail on that here, because I plan on writing something on peyote stitch anyway.

Follow your pattern across whatever row you chose. It should be a straight-shot across-- there shouldn't be any weird curving or anything yet. You're gonna put on those two beads, then the one bead depicted in the middle of those two. Like this--

[Image ID: A picture of the same mask pattern from before-- but with red marks depicting the two starting beads, and the one after. End ID.]

This picture shows where I'm starting my mask-- the two beads on the end then the one bead. You're gonna put the two beads on the string-- one per end of string you're holding together-- then you're gonna put your strings together and put the one bead through BOTH of the strings.

For this, I'm gonna end my row with two beads-- great! You... might not though. I think that's possible? Regardless, it makes everything a bit harder. At the end of your row, I highly suggest taping an end of your string down after pulling it tight, and taking the other end of your string and beginning building. You'd start building by putting on an end bead (a bead above/below where you ended, respectively) and going through the next bead that's sticking up (or the last two beads you put on). I'd build that for a row or two, and then build with the OTHER string for a row or two. From there, you can just keep going til the points, which I'll show how to handle shortly.

If you're gonna end with two beads-- great! Finish up that row, putting on the next two beads, then the one bead, then the two beads. Follow the pattern you have on hand for color changes, and make sure to keep track of which string is the TOP part of your row, or the BOTTOM part. Otherwise, you might end up with colors in the wrong place.

When you're done with that row, if you have two beads, congrats! You can tie that off using some square knots. Welcome to the building of the actual mask! The entire way this works is through putting a bead on, and going through the next one sticking up... for now. There's weird ways to starting new rows that I'll unfortunately have to cover. Look at your pattern.

[Image ID: A picture of the mask pattern, with red marks all along the first row. The next row is marked in blue. End ID]

In this picture, I've shown my first row. The blue marks will be representing my next row, building upwards. Building downwards would be the same thing, just toward the bottom of the pattern. In other words, the next row is depicted as the next raised beads near your last row.

[Image ID: A picture of the mask pattern from before. The third row of the pattern is highlighted in lime green. End ID]

Here, I've taken the liberty of highlighting the third row for you! But once you get to the end of that third row, you're probably wondering how to put that end bead on. This is the unfortunate part...

There's a couple of different methods to this. This is Vicky's old tutorial on masks, which could be useful and worth it to follow instead of this if this doesn't make sense.

I learned using iHeartRaves' video. You know, the one with people complaining in the comments about this part in particular? I spent about an hour figuring out how to do this, but I think I have the hang of it by now. So, here we go.

You're gonna put a bead on your string, the bead should be in the color of the last bead on that third row. For me, in the original pattern, it'd be black. For my modified version, it'll be red.

[Image ID: A photo of my mask progress. There's a red bead hanging on the pink string I'm working with to build upwards. There's a blue bead and a red bead below where the red bead will go. End ID]

You see that red bead to the side there? Below the light blue one? Stick your string through the top of that, like so.

[Image ID: A picture of my mask work in progress. The pink string from before is going through the top of the rightmost-- or the bottom if the mask is looked at horizontally-- red bead. The string is coming from the bottom of the bead, and the new red bead we put on the string is posistioned next to the light blue bead in it's rightful place. End ID]

If you pull tight (and you should!) the bead will move to the top of those side beads. You can use your fingers to move it and hold it in it's proper place.

Now, take your string and go through the bottom of that light blue bead, like so...

[Image ID: A picture of my mask WIP. The pink string was pulled through the bottom of the light blue bead, and is coming out of the top of it. End ID]

That part might be a bit hard. Don't be afraid to move stuff around to get it in there, you can tighten it up and put the new red bead back in place after you get it through. From there, you put your string through the top of the new red bead, like so!

[Image ID: Another mask WIP picture. The pink bead is going through the top of the new red bead, and is coming out from the bottom of it. End ID]

From there, start row 4! Your new red bead should be secure now. Everytime you come back to this side, you'll need to do that. It'll always be the same process. Put new bead on string, put string through top of bead two beads down, put string through underside of bead one bead down, put string through top of new bead.

On the other side of your mask, you can just continue building by putting the end bead on, and going through the last bead you put on. Though I suggest pulling the string for the last bead really tight, this'll keep everything together better.

Keep following your pattern until you get to the spikes part around here--

--okay only 10 images allowed per post. fuck you tumblr. at ANY rate...

There's a part of your pattern where it doesn't go straight up anymore. It drops off and starts to make a spike. Vicky explains what to do about this pretty well here. But, even then, here's some text instructions. When you finish that row, and there's no bead to put above it to start another row, just shove your string through the last bead you put on. This'll start the spike shape. You'll just keep doing that as you go through to carry the spike higher and higher.

As you go, the spike will break off into two smaller spikes. This is fine-- just focus on one spike, building on that until it's finished. After you put that last bead on, take your string and weave it towards the middle of your mask so you can start the other spike, tie it off tight a few times, and start on the other spike. I hope that makes sense-- I swear I'd have pictures if it wasn't for tumblr's image limit. (actually you might be better off watching Vicky's video from here, I'm not gonna lie. If you wanna learn to tie off the mask and tie together the spikes from her, here's a timestamp for that.)

If you're still here, I'm sorry lol. But let's keep going! Build until the spikes and complete those on the top, then build on the bottom and make those. When you're done, you should have a shape resembling the pattern you're following.

okay ive been here for, about 4 hours. ill be back tomorrow (but in one second for you :) )

it's the next day, let's talk about lacing up masks! You're gonna want a small piece of string, doesn't have to be that long at all. You're gonna thread that through the bead in the middle of the spikes. For me, on the top, it's the black bead above the top of the libra sign. Even it out so the two ends of string are together and they're mostly equal. Then, you're gonna take the string on the left and put it through the right bead that's one up. The left string goes through the right bead one up. Then you take the left one, go one up to the right. Left one goes one up to the right. Right string goes through the left point, left string goes through the right point.

Pull that together! It should lace up into something a lot like this (photo by sarasunshine on KandiPatterns). See how her mask comes together at the top in a kinda point? That's what we're aiming for. Pull that tight and tie it off. Do the same to your bottom spikes.

We're at the final stretch! Specifically it's time for mask straps. This one is also hard to explain, so I'm gonna link you to the point in Vicky's video where she adds straps. In addition, she only laces her masks twice, while I do mine thrice. There isn't much different between the two, it depends on how you feel.

Straps. I'd highly suggest more stretchy fabric cord for this rather than clear elastic or something not so stretchy. I used all my fabric cord on this, so I'm gonna use this weird jelly glitter string I found? I genuinely have no idea where it came from. I do my straps in the same way Vicky does, and I think she can explain it better than I because she isn't limited to 10 images per post. Though, I will suggest you be careful, it's really easy to use too many beads, or to make the straps too tight or too loose. imo, i like to have a LOT of room on my string (seriously, i only used about 22 beads) because I move the beads around so they aren't on the back of my ears. by the time i'm done tying on my string, the straps are usually half string and half beads.

Just follow how Vicky does it, fiddle with it a bit, it's ultimately up to personal preference about how you'd like to do it.

okay that's all i've gotta say uhhh i should have something up on putting fabric in them for actual use soonish. go forth and make stuff.

#kandi guide #kandi tutorial #kandi mask #kandicore #scenecore #best of luck to y'all tumblr's image limit kills me once again

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sadoeuphemist · 3 years

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Stories I thought about writing, but didn’t:

my voice is poisonous, a gift from a strange god my parents once befriended. I’m careful not to speak, but I know they’re afraid.

A poison-voiced girl is born to deaf parents, but falls in love with a hearing boy. Their courtship is marked on her end by a thrilling restraint, biting her lip, knowing she could kill him with an indiscretion; he, on the other hand, longs to see her act without inhibition. He manages to make her laugh, sigh, gasp out in wonder - each time he falls ill from the poison of her voice, but is undeterred even in his convalescence, returning renewed in his goal to tease another sound out of her.

Her parents tell her to break it off; she’ll kill him. She reluctantly agrees. He refuses, pleads with her, grasps her hands so she can’t sign. In anguish she cries out his name — but lo! he does not sicken, does not die. It turns out his repeated exposures to her voice have mithridatized him against it. She can speak around him freely! They both agree that this development has taken a lot of the excitement out of the relationship, but it has been replaced with a greater casualness and intimacy that balances it out.

I can see the angels in their true form, a thousand splendid eyes and all. They think it’s funny, and have taken to hanging around my apartment

The angels start making excuses to keep showing up at my apartment, in the manner of the annunciation, but for increasingly trivial reasons. They come bearing tidings about how I should definitely get the turkey wrap for lunch, which brand of fabric softener I should buy, how that quarter I’ll find on the sidewalk is a sign that I am favored by God. They come bearing bad tidings too: The Lord has heard of all the evil in your printer, and has sent us here to jam it. Their presence becomes completely overbearing, but they are insistent. There’s a reason you see us in our true forms, they say, all their splendid eyes shining. Is it so hard to believe that the God that formed every atom of you in the womb should watch over you always, that every mundane moment of your existence in this world is shot through with the divine?

There was a body in the river, ice cold and snow white. Sometimes it was all the way dead. Sometimes it sat up and talked to me.

A king has declared that whoever can complete the following tasks shall marry his daughter: 1) to recover a lost treasure stolen from his family hundreds of years ago; 2) to name the start of the pact between men and horses; and 3) to find a cure to the plague ravaging the land.

Our plucky folk hero helps an old lady who sits by the river; she tells him of the snow white body within, who has sat up and spoken to her at odd times throughout her life. It is the spirit of the glacier: the glacier melts, and forms the river; layer by layer the past frozen in it is uncovered, parts of it living and parts of it dead. Our hero builds many bonfires and melts the glacier faster; the body lives and dies and lives many times over and tells him the three answers. 1) The thief fell into a crevasse and was frozen over; the ice is melted now, and the treasure can be recovered. 2) Iron horseshoes frozen in the glacier reveal the pact is many thousands of years old. 3) The plague is an old one, frozen and released anew with the glacier’s melting; it is carried in the livestock, and they must be slaughtered.

The hero solves the king’s tasks and marries his daughter. Presumably the new king is then faced with the challenge of the rising sea levels; no idea how that plays out.

“We’re all nice to each other here,” they told us, “we’ve got angels in the hills. They like it when we’re nice. And they see everything.”

This one’s tough to summarize adequately. Two men are going door to door, seemingly taking a survey of the religious beliefs in a small town. They finish, sit together in their car. People have been very cooperative. One of the men remarks that the local religious beliefs are disappointingly unremarkable: yes, they believe in angels watching from the hills, but most people believe in an omniscient God watching over them, and whether it is God or his intercessors, does it make a significant difference?

They sit in the car. Perhaps they smoke in the lazy sunlight. They have finished their survey ahead of time. One of them proposes: Suppose we have a picnic lunch up in the hills?

They park at the base of the hill and walk up. Lovely day. They spread out a blanket from the car, stretch their legs out on the grass, take off their coats, loosen their ties. They’ve brought their packed lunch, sandwiches, a thermos of lemonade. They talk about how pleasant all the people were. Their kind of religion seems so ... brittle, one of the men remarks. If I thought there was someone waiting to punish me the moment I stepped out of line, I’d want to do something horrible just to get it over with.

You think so? says his partner. I think just the opposite. The grand problem with religion is that there aren’t enough consequences for wickedness. I know if I saw the wicked being smote down on a regular basis, I would very satisfied in my religion indeed.

Well, of course you would; you’re a sadist.

Me? A sadist? Hardly.

You’re a sadist, his partner says teasingly. A sadist and brute.

They smile at each other. Idle conversation. There is a suggestion that they have visited many such towns and cities, asking the same question, but have yet to receive a satisfactory answer. At one point one of them notes that there’s something in the trees, but this remark is ignored and nothing is ever made of it. The conversation turns back to whether the angels in the hills are real or not. The ‘sadist’ stands up, declares his intent to do something wicked to test them. He marches around, swinging his arms, then looks around at the trees and puts his hands on his hips and laughs.

You know, up here away from society, he declares, I can’t think of a single wicked thing to do!

(Maybe a conversation here about how he could tear branches from trees, despoil the scenery, find an animal to kill; but then again animals in nature strip bark from trees, kill each other bloodily all the time, tear each other to bits, so how wicked could that be, really?)

He looks down at his partner still lying back on the blanket. Unless, of course, I were to do something wicked to you.

Whatever happens next, it is very leisurely. The scene is easy, very relaxed. Lovely day. Calm. Bright blue sky. Clouds float across it, white like feathered wings, and then pass, leaving not a trace behind.

None of us can imagine what life was like before the Clocks came, before clockwork cities, and all their technology. They rebuilt our crumbling society, in perfect, mechanical order.

Brief musings on a hypothetical pre-Clock society. A society built around the sun, all buildings roofless, everyone’s necks craned upward. Cities built running north to south so as not to block anyone’s view of the rise and set. A society built around hourglasses, everyone judging the passage of time by the sand puddling around their feet, knees, waists, clambering up onto growing dunes, waiting for the flip, for the sand to slowly drain away and the furnishings of their homes to be uncovered. Perhaps this was our unimaginable life before the Clocks came: sands stretching far away and bare, the hypothetical counterpart bulb of an hourglass reflected invisible above us, empty and vast with unrealized possibility, waiting to be reset.

When I was very young, I met a bear at the edge of the woods. Before I could play dead, it bowed to me.

Jokey little fic where a child is instructed on the etiquette of bears: when to bow, when to curtsy, when to raise your hands and make yourself as large as possible, when to climb a tree, when to play dead. (Note that grizzlies are territorial, so if they attack you and play dead they’ll leave you alone because the threat is neutralized; whereas black bears are not territorial, so playing dead will do no good because a black bear will only attack if it deliberately wants to fuck you up.)

I was given very specific instructions. Go to the rosebush on a clear night. As the moonlight turns the roses silver, feed them three drops of blood.

After years of trying for a child, a couple turns to an old witch to help. The woman is instructed to eat a rose from a magical rosebush. If she first pricks her finger and stains the rose red with her blood, then she will have a son, ruddy and robust and bold in battle; if she visits the bush on a clear night and eats a rose painted silver by moonlight, then she will have a daughter, as pale and graceful and elegant as the moon.

The woman is uneasy with the implications of this binary, and says so. The witch smiles and gives her a new set of instructions. So she pricks her finger at night, her blood painted black by the moonlight, and nine months later gives birth to a child as black as a rose, who is neither boy nor girl.

Never manged to come up with a plot for this one. The kid grows up to have a career fulfilling all those “Neither man nor woman” prophecies? Eh. Kinda corny. There’s something about gender roles in fairy tales here, but I couldn’t put it together.

Not for the first time, the company time loop drill had gone very, very wrong.

I did actually write a response for this one, but it got too long and I gave up on it. Summary of the rest of the idea I had:

Time resets. Nagle confirms that it is both an actual time loop and a drill; the company is doing a controlled time loop to prepare them for the real thing. People complain. What’s the point of a drill when an actual time loop would let you keep doing things over and over until you get it right? Nagle points out that could take years, subjectively, and that this is a controlled experience where he has a code to abort the exercise if anything seriously goes wrong. He insists they try to make it work.

They go through a bunch of loops. Don’t succeed. It’s highly technical stuff that none of them are trained for. Morale drops. People start complaining, they’ve spent hours at this, they should be off duty by now. Nagle points out there’s a ruling, established with VR training, that companies don’t need to pay their employees according to their subjective experience of time, and officially they’ve only spent 34 minutes at this.

More loops. Morale drops further. People start demanding Nagle use the abort code, threatening to quit. Nagle points out that while they’re in this time loop, their actions are consequence-free, but once he ends the loop they’ll have to live with their decisions for the rest of their lives. Are they sure they really want to quit?

At that point someone loses it and kills Nagle. Shock. Panic. Some satisfaction. He’s reborn the next loop, starts screaming about it - someone kills him again. Complete social breakdown. Eventually some people decide, fuck it, let’s just live in this loop forever. Killing Nagle becomes a standard thing they do at the start of every loop, so that he can’t input the abort code. They go through various reconfigurations of their social group - orgies, riots, open paranoia where everyone colonizes a different part of the building, regressing to primitivism, open warfare between various sects, rebuilding of society along different axes of thought. Everyone starts thinking of themselves as immortal, they start calling themselves things like ‘Chronobog of the Infinite Plane of Despair’ or whatever; the narration gets increasingly surreal.

After god knows how many cycles of this, everyone finally achieves an equilibrium of perfect enlightenment. They know what must be done. They leave Nagle alive, he watches as they move in perfect unison to unlock the server room and overcome all the obstacles and repair the tachyon servers, loop is finally terminated, normal flow of time resumes.

Nagle stands up, gives a speech, starts congratulating them on completing the drill. As he talks, everyone can feel the rapport they’ve built start to slip away - they no longer understand each other perfectly outside of the context of those 34 minutes. Time is moving forward again, and with it introducing unfamiliarity, uncertainty, an impossible onslaught of variables that they cannot predict or prepare for, and they are all moving inescapably further from each other even as they glance around and try to catch each other’s eyes and keep holding on to that feeling of perfect unity - but it’s too late now, they are strangers behind familiar faces, all of them heading in their own directions, going to be returning to their own separate lives; that moment of solidarity they had is past.

And then Nagle claps his hands at them and says, “OK, drill’s over, everyone back to work!”

#fiction #dumping grounds

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gabywantsafriend · 4 years

Text

Anything For You: Ferris Bueller x Reader

(Kinda my gif??? Idk I found it online but I originally posted it on here)

Requested by anonymous: ferris bueller realizing he loves the reader maybe?

I’m so sorry it took such a long time to post another imagine! I hope you guys enjoy it :’)

Warning: Swearing

“Adams?” “Here.”

“Adamley?” “Here!”

“Adamowski?” A rather lazy hand was raised, indicating the student’s presence.

“Adamson?” “Here.”

“Adler?” The response was delayed by a couple of seconds. “Here.”

“Anderson?” Another delayed response. “Anderson?” “Here!”

“Bueller?”

Nothing. You quickly scanned the room, he wasn’t there. You hadn’t even noticed that he didn’t walk in that morning. You looked at Cameron and he shrugged. Apparently he didn’t know what Ferris was up to or where he was. “Bueller?” Crickets. “Bueller?” Dead silence. “Bueller?” The teacher’s monotonous voice began to sound like a broken record player.

You cleared your throat as you tried impersonating the missing troublemaker, letting out a low “Here.” The class snickered, causing your teacher to silence everyone. Turning to you, he huffed.

“L/n, I know you and Bueller are best friends but you really don’t have to cover for him in his absence. You’ll get your turn in the roll call later, don’t get too excited,” He went on with checking the attendance. You stubbornly sank into your seat, eyeing the vacant one next to you where Ferris was usually sat. What kind of trouble do you have in mind this time?

--------

Recess rolled in and you were standing at the phone booth just outside of your school. You dialed Ferris’ home number and waited for him to pick up. He was probably out on another one of his spontaneous adventures.

“Hello?” His voice was nasally, he was always good at playing sick.

“Oh, cut the crap. Where the hell are you, idiot? This is your tenth absence this semester, you said you didn’t wanna miss school after last time! No wonder your grades are shit! What are you up to now?” You scolded. Skipping class to hang out and be teenagers was fun the first few times. However as it became a habit of Ferris, you wished he could take school more seriously.

“Y/n, calm down. First of all, I could easily hack into the school’s computer system and change my grades,” He coughed. “Second, I’m not kidding this time. I’m actually sick.” You scoffed, muttering a small “yeah right.”

Of course, you found it hard to believe. You’ve known Ferris Bueller since you were ten. And you knew that it took a lot for him to be ill.

“Why would I ever lie to you? I’m serious,” he deadpanned. You sighed and pinched the bridge of your nose. “Alright, I’ll bring today’s assignments for you and I’ll visit you as soon as class ends.” You could practically hear him smile through the phone as he spoke. “Thanks, Y/n. You’re the best.” You bid goodbye as he did the same, both of you putting down the phone.

Well, what do you know. For the first time in a long time, Ferris Bueller was sick.

--------

You dropped your bike right in front of the Buellers residence and sprinted to the back door. You lifted the rug and took the spare key that Katie Bueller left in case of emergencies or whenever you wanted to visit. You were always welcome. Unlocking the door, you bolted up the steps and stopped in front of the door to your best friend’s room..

“Ferris, you better not be naked. I’m coming in.”

“Hi, Y/n.” The sight was beyond pitiful: The floor was littered with used tissues. Bottles of medicine decorated his dresser. And on the bed was a very pale boy, sniffling and shivering still even under the many layers of blankets he was covered in. Oh, Ferris.

“You look like shit.” He let out a weak chuckle. “It’s nice seeing you too,” he quipped. You rolled your eyes at his untimely use of sarcasm and pressed the back of your hand to his forehead.

“Jesus, you’re practically steaming,” You commented, getting up to fetch him an ice pack to hopefully lower his temperature. “I’m flattered, Y/n. I really am. But can you keep it in your pants until after I get well?” You were used to his foul-mouthed jokes by now. “Very funny, loser. Now put this on your forehead,” You handed him the cold material and he obeyed, hissing as it touched his skin.

“Oh, right! I got the homework for you,” you told him, getting your bag and pulling out his books and assessment sheets and laying them on his desk. “I also wrote an extra copy of the notes you missed,” You handed him the pages that you’ve ripped from your notebook where the duplicates were. His eyes, teary from his cold, widened.

“Wha-? But I just asked for you to get today’s assignments! You didn’t have to go an extra mile with taking my notes for me!” He took the papers gratefully, flipping through them. “I’m convinced you’re my guardian angel or some shit! Thank you so much!”

“Anything for you.”

It was true. You’d gladly and endlessly do anything for him.

You’ve liked Ferris since you first covered for him in fifth grade.

Young Ferris thought it’d be a good idea to chuck a bouncy ball at Mrs. Ritland, the math teacher you had all despised. Believe it or not, he was an even bigger idiot back when you were ten. She was writing on the chalkboard, back turned to you; the perfect time to strike. The small toy hit the poor lady’s nape. The classroom was suddenly filled with gasps and the sound of laughter. She exclaimed in pain, rage-filled eyes darting from student to student. Before she could even question which delinquent threw the damned thing, you stood up and raised your hand.

“I did it, Mrs. Ritland!”

Ferris was quick to defend you, chucking another bouncy ball at the woman. “If you even think of punishing her, you’ll have to go through me!”

You were both given a month’s detention and have been inseparable ever since.

“I’m dying,” He croaked, snapping you out of your daydream.

“Oh, please. You’re not dying. You just can’t think of anything good to do!” You quoted him. “Didn’t you say that yourself?”

He groaned, “Yes, I did say that myself. But now isn’t the time. I’m really not feeling well, Y/n.”

“Nonsense! It helped Cameron last time, he felt great afterwards.” You got off the bed, trying to pull him up with you. Instead, he snuggled deeper into the covers. “Aww, come on! Get up on your feet, mister! What do you feel like doing today? The weather’s lovely! Maybe we can go swimming? Or perhaps you’d like to go to the arcade? Ooh, street food sounds good! Just tell me where you wanna go, and I’ll take you there!” You coaxed excitedly.

“As much as I love our adventures, I was thinking maybe we could just stay here? You know, we could talk for a while and we can take a nap together just like when we were kids. And when I’m feeling better, we could watch a movie,” Ferris spoke softly, sniffling right after. You hummed, considering his offer.

“You can stay here and rest. I can get us some corn dogs from the stand nearby, I’ll be quick I promi-”

“No, no, you missed my point,” he shook his head, grinning at your stubbornness. “I meant can you stay? We don’t have to go anywhere. I enjoy your company, it’s more than enough,” He pulled the blankets to his nose, hiding his bashful smile as well as his growing blush. You were sure you would have melted then and there.

“Sure thing. Ferris.” You adored this boy.

It had been an hour since you’d agreed to stay in with Ferris and you were seated at his desk, tutoring him about trigonometric functions, a lesson he missed that day. He was reading the notes on the topic, following along with what you were saying. “Okay, I found this to be quite easy. So, we start off with the basics: sine, cosine, and tangent-”

At least, that’s what it looked like.

At first glance, it seemed as though he was actually studying. But what you didn’t know was that he had been admiring your handwriting and your little doodles on the blank spaces of the paper.

See, Ferris liked you. He’s liked you since forever ago. He remembered the moment so vividly, as if it only happened yesterday.

“I did it, Mrs. Ritland!”

He looked at you and thought, “Wow, that is the prettiest girl I’ve ever seen.” Obviously, he couldn’t let a pretty girl such as you take the blame for what a stupid boy such as him had done. It just wasn’t fair to you. So he immediately admitted that it was his fault, as he should.

He felt guilty that you had to get wrapped up in this mess and had to suffer the consequences. To make up for it, every time you had detention, he would take you to secret hideouts around the school. That two months of running around school trying not to get caught marked your first of soon-to-be-many adventures.

And now here you were, almost eight years later, helping him solve for x. His eyes softened at how into it you were while teaching him. You were even more beautiful than when you were a kid, just when his younger self thought you couldn’t get any more stunning.

He thought about how you were kind enough to fill him in on everything he’d missed; how as soon as class was dismissed, you biked as quickly as you could just to take care of him. You could have easily ditched him to go out and get those corn dogs you’ve been craving; or you could have easily gone out for a walk since, according to you, “the weather’s lovely.”

But you didn’t.

You stayed.

The mere thought of that, along with everything about you, caused his heart to pound out of his chest.

I think I’m in love with her. Fuck that. I am in love with her.

“...And that explains why sine 90° is equivalent to 1. What the-? Ferris Bueller, are you even listening?” You waved a hand in front of his face, still not responding. He looked as if his mind was somewhere completely different. “Hello? Earth to Ferris?” He blinked a few times, shaking his head. He whispered something you didn’t quite catch. “What?” He whispered again. “I can’t hear you, pal. Speak up.”

“I love you. There, I said it.” You were at a loss for words as your eyes met. Both of you progressively got redder by the second.

“What in the right mind made you say that?” Confusion was evident in your voice, as well as nervousness.

“I’ve loved you for a while now and when you dropped everything to visit me today, I realized how deep I’ve fallen,” Ferris bashfully stated. He could be cheesy at times but you thought it was cute.

“Woah, you are such a fucking sap,” You both burst into laughter, him scoffing and clutching his chest in mock offense. “I love you too, you dingus.”

His heart fluttered as you said it. The mix of his sickness and your confession made him lightheaded. You plopped down on his bed, hugging him tightly. “Wait, what are you doing? You’re too close, I’m gonna get you sick!” He asked as you kissed his nose.

You got under the covers with him, rolling your eyes, “You think I still care? I fucking love you for Christ’s sake!” You made him laugh at that. “How about that nap you suggested earlier, hmm?”

He closed his eyes, the biggest grin still plastered on his face. “She loves me,” being the last thought in his head before contently falling asleep.

#80s #80s movies #ferris bueller's day off #ferris bueller x reader #ferris bueller imagine #imagine #ferris bueller #ferris beuller

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pl-panda · 4 years

Text

Damienette arranged marriage: Part 10

Okay. You will probably either love me or try to kill me for this one. Good corruption is so hard to write.

Credits: Miraculous Ladybug team for the elements I take from MLB show. DC for their characters, @ozmav for the AU, @maribat-archive for giving me access to so many different stories to have take inspirations from, @thyladyanput for idea for Chat Damian and me for the plot.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8

Part 9

Damienette arranged marriage: Part 10

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Chloe sat there, not sure what to make of the discussion. She was about to say something when something crashed through the window. The three teens starred at the form of Chat Noir. He was looking different. His ears and tail were real instead of accesories and instead of bell on his neck he had only a choker with word 'Marinette' written on it.

"My Purrincess! I come to save you!”

------------------------------

One month ago

Adrien was angry. His lady just got married. And it wasn't with him. Something was wrong with this idea. He already had everything planned. He knew what suit he would wear, he had a general idea about the dress, he even chose the place. HIs Lady would not refuse him. And yet, he was too late. She told him several times that she was in love with someone else and now she married this someone. Someone who was not him.

He wanted to scream, he wanted to cry, he wanted to punch something... someone. And not just anyone, but this one person who stole his lady from him. His mind was racing, trying to remember every single detail she revealed. The most important so far was marriage, but he decided to leave that for the last. She definitely liked the Gabriel Brand and often recognized him. She thought she loved someone, but she never revealed many details. Ladybug also...

"I know what you are doing and better drop it." Plagg sounded next to him.

"I can't. She made a mistake. We are destined to be with each other Plagg."

"Are you having a stroke or did Lila steal your last brain cell?" the kwami scolded him harshly. "If ladybug chose someone else, then you should respect her choice and roll with it. Besides, don't you need to be eighteen to marry in this century?"

"She loves me. She just doesn't know it yet! And age is just a number."

"As is the cell number she will end up in if she is with you." Plagg deadpanned.

"No. I... but... We... You said Chat Noir and Ladybug are destined to be together!"

"Yes, but not as a couple you moron. I swear I am always the one who gets the dummies..." Plagg moaned to himself. "The two miraculous are destined to be used together or they will create imbalance. There can never be Ladybug without Chat Noir for a prolonged amount of time or we risk another pompei."

"I don't care! She's my lady! We are made for each other!" Adrien almost screamed.

"Tikki help me... You are an idiot." Plagg just stated and phazed through the wall to get to his hidden camembert stash. He was too hungry to deal with mr. possessiveness right now.

Adrien huffed at the actions of his Kwami. The gluttonous cat knew nothing. He was Ladybug's perfect partner in both fighting Akumas and in life. With that thought he fell asleep.

----------

Next day school seemed plain and boring. Just like he expected Lila made sure Marinette did not have a chance to explain herself. Why did this two girls couldn't get along. He sighted. From his place he could not really see Marinette in the back, but he was almost certain she would be okay. This was Marinette he was thinking about. She was pretty much their everyday-ladybug. He frowned at the thought. Stupid someone. If only he could punch this person in the face.

Plagg didn't talk to him at all, choosing to instead stash himself with ungodly amounts of cheese. Who needed this lazy cat anyway? It's not like he had to be Chat Noir. He could do whatever he wanted.

After classes he tried to speak with Marinette, but she just brushed him off and run to her home. He just shrugged. She was strong, smart and resourceful. She was almost like Ladybug except without powers. And she was just as pretty. Maybe even prettier because she had no mask covering half of her face. But she still wasn't his Lady. Adrien sighted as he got into the limousine. The Gorilla took him home. Like always the bulky man only grunted instead of speaking. If someone replaced him with a semi-shaved gorilla most people wouldn't notice. Adrien would, but probably no one else.

When they arrived at the mansion Nathalie was already waiting for him. She had her usual emotionless expression, but Adrien noticed the corners of her lips were slightly upward.

"Adrien. Your father wants to speak with you." She started.

"Father? What does he want?" Adrien asked as politely as possible. It was very unusual for Gabriel to demand a meeting with his son.

"It's best if he tells you himself." Nathalie did not reveal anything.

"Okay." Adrien smiled sadly. Usually in this kind of situations it meant something bad.

She led him to the atelier where his father stood by the drawing board.

"Welcome son. Nathalie, leave us." Gabriel's voice showed surprising amount of emotions for him. The assistant nodded and walked out of the room. The father and son were now alone in large room. "Come here Adrien." The older man did not need to make any hand gestures. His voice emphasized the order enough.

"What is it Father. Nathalie said you wanted to speak with me."

"Yes, but not here." Gabriel simply shut down all further questions. Adrien stood next to him curious when the older man pressed several buttons that were parts of the painting of Emilie. The ground below them lit and Adrien found himself on an elevator going down. A large hall lit in front of him. There were rows of lanterns on the walls and a single catwalk in the middle that led to some green area at the far end. There was some tube that Adrien couldn't see the content of. Behind everything was a giant symbol that looked like a flower, but the young Agreste couldn't shake the feeling it reminded him of something more malicious.

They stepped off the platform and Gabriel walked to the tube on the far end without saying a word. Adrien just followed him. It was not possible for the two of them to walk side by side so he only saw the tube again once they got to the platform.What was inside froze his blood.

Inside laid Emilie Agreste, his mother.

"F-Father...?" His voice was almost just a whisper. "Wh-What is all of this?"

"Your mother is very ill my son. This stasis chamber is the only thing keeping her alive."

"Why isn't she in hospital? Everyone believes she died." Adrien was still shaken by this. He had no idea what to think. He did not pay slightest attention to small flock of white butterflies on the edges of this green island.

"No hospital on earth could possibly help her. Only a miracle could save her. Or a wish."

The meaning behind last word hit Adrien with the speed of rushing train. The silence that fell after was so loud that he could hear the flapping of butterfly wings.

"N-No... That can't be... You... But she... We... I... She... Ladybug... Mother... Father... My lady..." Adrien started babbling incomprehensibly. His father watched his son's eyes jump between the stasis pod, himself, the ring on his finger and the window behind them. Gabriel walked to his son and gently placed a hand on boy's shoulder.

"Adrien. Listen to me. I know you are confused, but everything I do is to unite our family. I am sorry I didn't tell you before. You were still young when this happened and I didn't want to burden you. But I can no longer see you so secluded. Suffering from the ignorance. I don't want you in anymore danger. Help me son. I don't think I can do this without you. I want to see our family together." As Gabriel spoke to his son, the expression on boy's face changed. It was that of acceptance. Older man had to hold the urge to grin. It was all coming together. They would finally be one, happy family together.

"But... My Lady..." Adrien was still torn between his loyalties.

"What are you talking about?!" Father was losing patience.

"Ladybug. My Lady. She..." the boy started and Gabriel finally caught the flow. All the dots connected. He had to improvise. It could be all or nothing.

"And what did she for you my son? She doesn't care about you. In neither forms. Not really. What does Ladybug really know about you?"

Adrien grasped. Only now he realized that he revealed himself before his supposedly worst enemy. But it didn't matter. His father was right. Ladybug didn't care about him. She chose someone else and abandoned him. He didn't owe her anything. But he did owe his mother everything. He pulled off the silver ring from his finger and closed his fist around it.

"Plagg. I renounce you!" There was a sudden black zoom and the ring changed to black color with paw symbol on it. Adrien then offered the ring to his father.

"Here. If it helps bring mother back... take it." There was complete resignation in his voice. Adrien gave up.

Something in Gabriel's cold heart actually felt some guilt. He didn't want to break Adrien to bring Emilie back. Instead of taking the ring he closed boy's hand around it, cupping it in his own. "No son. I told you I can't do this alone. I want... I need your help. We can bring your mother back together."

"Thank you father. Your trust means the world for me."

——————————————————————————————————–

Taglist (sorry if I missed you)@pheonixashtree @sassakitty @unabashedbookworm @vixen-uchiha @maggiecc12 @actualdisasterwoman @tired-butterfly @shizukiryuu @floralfi @imanerddealwith @northernbluetongue @krispydefendorpolice @toodaloo-kangaroo @dast218 @bluesoulblueheart @theatreandcomicfreak @disneyfoxuniverse @mindfulmagics @alwaysnumberonetruth @nyaabinch @jardimazul @lenamau @rosep16 @dramatic-squirrel @sonif50 @daminett4life @lulutheawkwardess @weird-pale-blonde-person @mooshoon @jeminiikrystal @mochegato @moonlightstar64 @dragonflyswing @silverwhiteraven @shamefullove @magic-miraculous @valeks-princess @heaven428 @mlbchaosqueen @winter-gardenflower @spicybelladonna @emo-elaine13 @vetilora @karukofox21 @my-name-is-michell @sturchling @lokiifriggasonn @redscarlet95 @melicmusicmagic @interobanginyourmom @the-fusionist @razzledazzle247 @miss-mysterys-blog @darkthunder1589 @i-is-mysterious @catthhay @the-one-woman-army @zestyzealot @dahjokester @write-for-your-life2 @mermaidreject @peachedpocky @sassakitty @dahjokester @crazylittlemunchkin

#maribat #maribat au #marinette x damian #order of the guardians #guardian!marinette #redeemed!chloe #evil!adrien #league of assassins #batman #batfam #mlb #mlb x dc #damienette #crossover #miraculous lb #miraculous ladybug #arranged marriage au

348 notes · View notes

vanityloves · 3 years

Note

Storm and ivy + medic

@septemberlove i have. no excuse for how late these are but uh. thank you for sending these in 💕.

[word count: 1.8k+ with the longest 'authors note' bc im mentally ill]

sfw, mmm comfy cozy, general sick hcs,

storm - what are cozy days in with your f/o like?

Whenever I think of cozy days, my brain immediately goes to rainy/chilly weather where we can cuddle up together and my brain short fuses. I'm gonna assume this is just like a day off or something though!

How I visual them together vs how I write them is odd because they technically don't act or accept they're 'together' until after the comics but I always write them like they're in a Steady Relationship while on base. I'm always writing a slight AU if you will. Or maybe it's after they get their jobs back at Mann co - I should highkey adjust that but No ♥️. No more thinking, just content based off my idealized universe.

There's definitely a point in their relationship where it's like 'I think I have to put in a little more work here'. I'm not saying either party is slacking but they're slacking ♥️. Neither of them really take action. Chef doesn't blame him or really complain about it because that's their nature, plus they don't know how romantic relationships really work or flow, especially with a person like him. Medic doesn't see an issue with anything and continues on with his normal business.

What I mean by slacking is, there's not a lot of quality time being spent together which would be fine if it wasn't both of their strongest Love Languages, which could help them strengthen their relationship. It's odd because they're 'romantically involved' but they don't spend a lot of time together for either of them to consider it romantic, simply because it's on company time.

ANYWAYS THATS JUST ME BEING CONVOLUTED. FEEL FREE TO JUST IGNORE ALL OF THIS.

Medic goes to bed pretty late and wakes up at a fairly early hour. Chef is a late sleeper and forced to be an early riser because their Actual Job is to make at least 2 or 3 meals a day (if they want something else, they're on their own but hate when anyone messes up the kitchen and will honestly, stand there and watch said person).

There's minimal time they can spend together if they want to do their own activities - for Medic, it's tinkering around with organs or in Engie's garage, for Chef, they're typically meal prepping or trying to tend to an animal or plant of some sort.

Medic is actually more direct about wanting attention and it's never been a problem because he's cautious about it. Chef is more emotionally inclined and willing to drop hints that they want more attention.

Chef probably has one day off where it's a complete free for all, for the rest of the team, which would be the perfect time to spend with Medic - If he wanted to stop working, that is. Just don't picture it but, Chef will literally sit in the medbay for hours just to be near the guy, but it isn't bad? The drone of machinery or the scratching of his pen is relaxing, or having his doves nearby is always sweet! Plus, he's prone to talking their ear off when he finds something interesting, so they'll chime in and have some back and forth.

But, yknow - sometimes having someone's undivided attention is nice and Chef is pretty dense when it comes to that and wonders why they feel so upset.

They swallow their pride and ask Medic if they sleep in his room one night and Medic's not as dense as Chef, he understands that they'd never ask for something so out of the blue for no reason and he promises to finish up his work early so they could head to bed together. Chef had nothing planned, they literally just needed that affection and closeness - since it was their day off Medic takes the hint and puts his work aside for the time being.

They'd probably sleep in and stay in bed a while longer before getting ready together - no uniform required. Chef isn't so talkative in the mornings, Medic's noticed, but they were happily fiddling with his buttons and tie, humming in thought before answering his questions. Medic's seen them out of uniform of course, but it's always funny seeing them in just a button up and jeans like … mom on the go vibes. Medic leaves his coat behind before making his way to the kitchen with Chef.

The kitchen usually has a couple people loitering around, grabbing their coffee or honestly, waiting around for Chef because they always make extra and these bitches are lazy. But the kitchen has now become A Medic Supremacy Zone and he has first dibs - the benefits of being w/ Chef I guess. The two would work as if the others weren't there, keeping their conversation between each other even if that means Medic tilting his head down while Chef leans in closer to reply. There's a high possibility the other have left them to their own devices, seeing as the couple was ignoring them / knows they won't be getting anything. Breakfast isn't extraordinary but it feels special since they actually get to sit across each other and share the morning today.

It's possible that they'd go out and run some errands today, but it's a cover to window shop and walk around. I'll be honest, they probably haven't had proper dates so it's refreshing. You could ask Chef what they liked the most and they're just like :] Yes.

Other times, they like to curl up and catch up with some reading (well, Medic at least) while Chef rests against him and skim over the words. They're not too invested in what he's reading but likes to have some idea of what he's talking about so they don't ask too many questions. (Very 'these words are big and english/german is not my first language + I can't read as fast as you can so I got lost 7 pages ago). Medic likes to watch Chef garden and tries to help them tend to whatever they're able to grow in the goddamn desert. He overwaters a cactus and looks away if it dies. Chef talks ab how they're growing mint and how it really took off while Medic's standing there like :] Oh, lets make tea with that. Because they're Old People (read: Medic is old)

🕊🐁

ivy - how do you take care of each other when you’re sick?

Chef is easier to take care of when they're sick. They continue working until they're pretty beat but once they feel sick and a break doesn't work, they'll try to finish up what they can before turning in early. They see themselves to bed and inform whoever's near that they won't ne there at dinner and if they really cant figure it out, then come get them - other than that, they're barricading themselves in their room.

When they're sick they're REALLY sick but recovery time is usually a few days (depending on how bad it is). They basically hibernate and don't like being disturbed. They're used to not fending for themselves since they've been on their own for a while but really appreciate all the check ins Medic does w/ them, especially when they're all better.

Medic, being...their Medic, he definitely gives them a check up when they first begin showing symptoms and he can be a stickler when it comes to drinking fluids and eating properly. Chef usually has a finicky stomach as it is so Medic really urges them to drink soups and easy foods like bread and crackers. He checks in on them A LOT, even if that's just peeking in to see if they're asleep or not. He backs off when Chef gives him a cold stare from under the covers and minimizes his intrusions/tries to be more sneaky about it. He has colder hands and they let out a sigh when he puts his hand to their cheek or forehead to check their temperature.

Chef doesn't hesitate to take any medication he has for them, mostly bc they aren't fully coherent but they also don't have energy to care, in fact they have the thought that if he accidentally kills them, maybe respawn will cure them. Unfortunately, Medic debunks this before they can even muster up the energy to ask.

Overall 7.5/10, very good patient. Will refuse to get up and accidently falls asleep in the shower which scares the shit out of him.

Medic on the other hand is very stubborn and doesn't like to stop working unless there's something that physically stops him (ex: vomiting, serious injuries [unlikely bc medigun], etc). If he tricked the Devil, surely the man can beat the common cold or flu! Unfortunately he gets those full body shivers and feels terrible. He can be pretty dramatic when he's sick and everyone's subjected to his bad attitude.

It's Chefs turn to play doctor - they can tell by looks alone that he's under the weather. His face is flushed and he's a bit sloppily put together, which isn't *too uncommon* but his tie isn't tied and his glasses lamely slide down his nose. They tsk a bit while taking his temperature just to keep track of it before ushering him to his room.

He can be dragged to bed if persistent enough. Chef's firm hold on his arm is enough for him to get off his chair and have them tug him along. He doesn't have any room to argue with them as they look up at him, so he relents, stating that a short break would definitely do him good, but he'll be up and at em by tomorrow.

Chef is doting and becomes a bit of a helicopter parent when checking on him. This mostly consists of peeking their head in but not really stepping in the room. Every so often they'll wake him up to drink water and either hand him an ice pack or offer a cold towel and move to dab at his forehead and neck.

Medic hasn't been too keen on having others taking care of him bc that's HIS job, and he often tries to shoo Chef away by saying he's more than alright now. Sometimes he's caught sitting up in bed doing work or taking notes on something bc he's a bit restless when he's sick and stationary for too long.

But he's right. He's very good at taking care of himself - when Chef offers him food he'll force himself to eat some of it and he's drinks plenty of fluids without needing reminders. He kinda bosses Chef around, telling them to grab certain medications from the Medbay. They trust his judgment on his own health and bring him what he asks for but Chef keeps a mental note of what he takes and when. Don't need the doctor accidentally taking too many pills today!

Overall 6.5/10. It's hard to get him into bed and becomes restless fairly easily. He is persistent that he's ok after one day of rest only to be found sneezing himself away in the Medbay.

#tf2 oc #self insert #medic #self ship #tf2 headcanons #my headcanons #my writing #i guess #'have you written enough?' idk you tell me.#s: soul food #if anyone reads even a part of this im sorry #💙 2d's spouse 💙#mars!!!#ahh thank you again.. sorry these are so late ahshhd i get caught up w/ other stuff so this was self care <3 !#im very passionate ab medic YSHDHD like yeah no shit bitch 🦧

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chockfullofsecrets · 4 years

Text

RWBY: Dinner and a Smile

(Read on AO3)

Rating: Gen

Summary: Ironwood needs dinner and a break. And he'll get them, if Qrow has anything to say about it.

Wordcount: 2382

A/N: Hey, it’s been a while! I feel a little bad that this isn’t BNHA fic, but I was having so much trouble getting back into the swing of writing that I eventually decided to try a new fandom to shake things up. Thank you for all your patience and well wishes, and hopefully there’ll be more fic in the near future!

Also - there’s just not enough platonic RWBY tickle fic. So if you have any prompts, feel free to drop them in my ask box!

Sometimes, James wondered if there was a time when he would have considered filing paperwork at 10 in the evening a late night at the office - certainly not in the last year. Maybe not in the last five. There were no late nights anymore, only a dwindling amount of precious time before Mantle went critical, before Salem gained too much power, before she showed up again in his tech and in the cities he was supposed to be able to protect.

Brothers, it had been a long time since he’d ended the day without a headache and a gnawing sense of unease. And it seemed like the streak would continue, even with the influx of additions to his inner circle.

His office door chimed. James glanced over at the appropriate screen, then tapped the door open. “Ah, Qrow. Glad to see you got my message.’ He paused. ‘And responded in a fairly timely manner, even.”

Qrow smirked, his jewelry glinting even in the dim office lights as he propped himself lightly against the doorframe. “Aw, Jimmy, a compliment? I guess you really were happy to see me.”

“Of course I was.” James frowned. “I said so, didn’t I?”

“I’ve heard you say nicer things to all kinds of people,” Qrow said, shrugging himself upright and ambling towards the desk. “You military types are real good at buttering people up. Yes, sir. No, sir. Whatever it takes to get a promotion, sir.”

James was halfway to saying something that was probably going to end with broken windows when Qrow reached his desk and huffed out a laugh, looking almost apologetic. “I’m not trying to start a fight. It was hard to believe at first, after everything that’s happened, but you’ve been good to us. The kids are really enjoying their licenses.”

“Oh.” James cleared his throat, regaining equilibrium at the sudden loss of tension. “They’re certainly making good use of them. I’m glad it was something I could do.”

Qrow cocked his head, birdlike - as always, the unconscious action was at least a little funny. “Sure. Now, you said you needed me to verify a report?”

“Yes.” Another tap, another screen, this time facing Qrow. “This is your report from wall patrol three days ago - can you confirm this is the right sector? If it is, we’ll have to log another breach report.”

Qrow grimaced at the hologram, pulling out his scroll to reference. “Yeah, it’s right. Shit, that’s not good.”

“I’ll send Penny down tomorrow to estimate how much material repairs will take,” James sighed, minimizing the screen. “Alright, that was it. Go enjoy the rest of your evening.”

Qrow didn’t move, a dark smudge in the corner of his vision. “Hey, if you keep doing that you’re going to fracture your nose.”

“What?” Oh, he was pinching at the bridge of his nose again, this time with his prosthetic hand. Stupid headache. “It’s fine. Atlas prosthetics have the best pressure control in the world-”

“Don’t care,” Qrow interrupted. “What are you doing with the rest of your evening?”

James looked up, surprised - that wasn’t like Qrow at all. “I’ll - be here, I suppose.”

“Right.” Qrow slid his scroll back into his hip pocket, completely ignoring the compartment in his new vest that was meant for the thing. “Come on, the kids got dinner for tonight. Nora can spare an extra person’s worth of food for you.”

He thought back to some of the looks he’d gotten from said kids in recent history - distrust, something ranging from fear to outright anger. They were in his inner circle, but he certainly wasn’t in theirs. Even beyond that, the awkwardness of showing up unannounced - “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“Better than yours, though.” Qrow was suddenly looming over his desk, making use of his lanky arms to reach for the power button. James swiped reflexively at the intruding hand - he set everything to save automatically, of course, but Qrow didn’t know that -

Qrow smirked insolently even as his wrist was caught, neatly reversing the hold and bracing his other hand on the desk as he heaved James upright.

James wavered a little on his feet, staring dumbly as his headache spiked. He reached for the bridge of his nose with his free hand, but Qrow caught that wrist too. They stood there, reaching to each other, the warmth of contact nothing short of intoxicating.

Qrow’s head was cocked again - okay, it was a lot less funny when Qrow was analyzing him - and his voice was almost unbearably gentle even through that low rasp it had. “Trust me, I get it, but food will help.”

Sure. Sure. He could spare a couple minutes. How bad could it be?

^^^

He was an optimist, apparently.

RWBY, JNR, and Oscar were holed up in a common area near their assigned dorms, and every single one of them fell silent as Qrow and James walked in. Normal enough on the occasions he showed up to deliver a speech, but he could take the hint.

“Um,” he said eloquently. “Hello. I’m just going to-”

Qrow grabbed his arm before he could back away. “The general needs some food, and I figure we have enough casseroles to spare thanks to Tall, Blonde, and Good with Children over there.”

The blond boy - Jaune’s - ensuing blush was enough to pinpoint the target of the comment. “Uh, congratulations?” James offered. “It sounds like you’re making quite an impact.”

Jaune’s red-haired teammate burst out laughing, a few of the others following. “He sure is!” she crowed, elbowing the poor boy in the side - James could almost see his aura take the hit. “Just make sure you don’t do any impacting on the job, huh?”

“Stop it, Nora!” Jaune yelped. “Uh, thank you, General Ironwood.”

That seemed to break the ice sufficiently, the kids restarting their conversation, and soon he and Qrow were sharing a couch next to a table strewn with takeout and casseroles.

Qrow sank into the cushions, eyeing his straight-backed posture disapprovingly. “What, does your spine not bend?” he sniped.

“I’m surprised you haven’t offered me something to take the edge off,” James sniped back, smiling a little. He’d barely finished the sentence when the shrill voice of Qrow’s youngest niece rang out.

Both their heads snapped around. “UNCLE QROW,” Ruby yelled, dashing to her uncle’s side with what looked like a rapidly destabilizing takeout box. Qrow’s attention turned fully to her, but James’ gaze stopped on a coldly glaring Yang Xiao Long.

She caught his eye, making a fist with thumb and pinky extended, then tipped the sign toward her lips. Drink. She then slashed a finger across her throat, eyes flaring red. Drink and die, then.

Come to think of it, Qrow hadn’t taken out his flask in all this time -

He’d quit?

It made sense - the improved behavior, his sudden concern about people taking care of themselves -

He’d quit, and here James was, baiting him -

Yang appeared to take his wide-eyed horror as understanding, nodding curtly and turning back to the Belladonna girl.

“James?” Qrow was looking back in his direction, takeout box apparently rescued. “What were you saying?”

“Nothing,” he said. It was too hasty - Qrow raised an eyebrow at him as he shoveled a forkful of casserole into his mouth.

He sat awkwardly, gaze locked on a gently steaming box of takeout. He didn’t know enough about them. He didn’t know enough about anything. He shouldn’t be here. He shouldn’t be here. He shouldn’t -

He was a functional, competent adult who was in charge of massive amounts of people and weaponry, but the knowledge of just how much he was doing wrong was still enough to knock him right on his ass.

He wasn’t sure how long he’d sat there, embroiled in a morose staring contest with the gleaming white of the takeout box, when Qrow shifted closer and nudged at his left side firmly enough to make him jump.

“Relax,” he insisted, poking James again and making him jump even more. “Come on, do I have to feed it to you?”

“Qrow, I’m just not - Qrow!” The other man was looking more and more mischievous with every reaction to his poking, and James nearly groaned as he realized what was about to happen. One single night of drinking too much, a single ill-considered confession of this particular weakness, and he’d spent the better part of two decades paying for it as Qrow decided to exploit his knowledge whenever it suited him.

“Whoa, whoa! Careful, you were almost smiling there for a second. Better get it under control, or you’ll ruin your whole-” Qrow gestured vaguely, a lazy roll of his wrist, “image”.

Qrow pressed even closer, leaning in as James cringed away from the sensation of wiry fingers palpitating his side. His whole chest tensed in retaliation, but even that couldn’t stop his lips from curving traitorously up, or the strangled laugh pushed out of his thrumming lungs. He sucked in a breath. “Qrow, I will shoOT YOU-”

“Oh, you will? But you hugged me and everything...” Qrow withdrew a little bit and hmmed, seemingly considering. The glint in his eyes, the way Qrow was still very much in his personal space, told James that this consideration was a complete lie. “Well, at least it’ll be quick.”

Qrow pounced, knocking James back against the not-quite-soft arm of the couch. James’ spine (partially prosthetic, and it did bend, thank you very much) clicked a little as it tried to help him back up, but Qrow was already perched atop one of his legs, knee neatly pinning his right arm at the elbow and fingers reaching deftly under his coat to tickle at his hips. The prosthetics didn’t really translate ticklish well, but his left side was more than enough to trigger a wave of desperate laughter even as he flushed an embarrassed red at the surprised cries of the kids somewhere to the right.

James swung his left arm wildly, trying to jostle Qrow off. “Hey!” Qrow complained, still grinning like the imp he was as he rebalanced effortlessly and pinned the offending limb to the back of the couch. His free hand stilled briefly at James’ side before spidering ever-so-slightly upwards. “Hey, Jimmy, this still your worst spot?”

“Ngh - ha - get ohohoff! Ihi - Qrow, I mehehean it -” He was fighting to keep his voice stern, but it was so hard to be even remotely dignified when Qrow insisted on tweaking every single rib he had on the way up his torso.

Qrow massaged lightly at his highest rib, far too close to the sensitive hollow of his trapped arm, and any composure James had left dissolved as his protests lapsed into helpless giggling. Qrow smiled down at him, obviously pleased with this reaction, and James squeezed his eyes shut to escape his gaze. “Yep, looks like it’s still pretty bad,” Qrow teased. “And what about here?”

James tugged futilely at his arm as Qrow’s fingers strayed further north, still points of pressure at the very edge of his underarm. “Well? Got anything to say?”

Still giggling, it was all James could do to shake his head.

“Okay, then.” That strange softness again in Qrow’s voice. James opened his eyes just in time to slam them shut again as Qrow tickled mercilessly under his arm, fingers brushing over what seemed like every last nerve he had left. He was laughing so hard it hurt, wrenching at his trapped hands in a desperate attempt to get just an inch more of protection against the onslaught. He couldn’t think, couldn’t worry.

Not the worst feeling in the world, actually. An entirely different kind of helplessness from what he’d felt at Beacon. He’d have to ponder that later when he wasn’t busy fighting for breath.

After an endless minute, his left arm slipped free and he swatted Qrow with it, using the instant of relief as Qrow laughed at his pathetic attempts to yell Qrow’s name in protest.

Qrow finally let up, moving his knee off James’ right arm, and even before he caught his breath James reared up and punched Qrow in the shoulder hard enough to sting.

Qrow rocked back, still half-laughing, and all but pouted at him. “Ow! I didn’t punch you!”

James relaxed back against the couch arm, gulping in air until he could manage a full sentence. “Well you’re not ticklish, you ingrate, so what else am I -”

“What do you mean, ‘he’s not ticklish’?” Yang interrupted. They both froze, heads swiveling to face their spectators.

James’ heart rate was already rising as he scrambled for any way to regain control of the situation, but his panic abated somewhat upon seeing the children’s faces. They looked amused - happy, even. He’d thought that the Faunus girl - Blake’s - ears had a permanent pained twist to them, but there they were, poised comfortably as she smiled at the two of them.

Yang and Ruby were both examining their uncle, arms crossed. “Yeah, Uncle Qrow is super ticklish!” Ruby said, grinning. “Every time we’d have tickle fights at home, Dad would-”

“Hey!” Qrow snapped, clapping his hands over James’ ears. James swiped at him again, and this time Qrow’s knee slipped right off the couch and took the rest of him with it. He knocked his elbow on the table, and half the kids sprang up to protect the food before Qrow’s semblance could break something.

James sat up properly, and didn’t even feel a little bit bad about planting a boot atop Qrow’s back to keep him down. “Oh? Tell me everything.”

The group cringed a little - right, those secrets they were keeping - but Ruby perked right back up and launched into a description of Qrow’s most embarrassing defeat at the hands of his brother-in-law.

When she had finished, James let a considerably less arrogant Qrow up off the floor. “I won’t act on that tonight, I think we all deserve a quiet evening.” He fixed Qrow with a stern look. “But you should be… careful.”

Qrow rolled his eyes, completely unbothered, and grabbed a random container of food to shove at James. “Shut up and eat something.”

He accepted the food gratefully, noting with considerable surprise the distinct lack of headache.

An evening well spent, then.

#tickling #rwby #ironqrow #james ironwood #qrow branwen #chocfic

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klaus-is-the-real-number-1 · 5 years

Text

The Light Behind Your Eyes (slytherin!Five x slytherin!reader)

A/N: sooo i had a different idea originally but liked this one more because,,, i dunno,, ill probably keep the other one as a draft but it probably wont get posted!!!! hope this is what you wanted.

Request: Omg could you write a Slytherin!five x Slytherin!reader fic? If you’re not too busy that is. I just love Hogwarts and would die to see that dynamic power dou!!

Words: 2893

“Just focus, it’s not that difficult.”

It was difficult though, the patronus charm was one of the hardest spells to master and even some of the greatest witches and wizards can’t produce one. Yet, for some utterly strange reason, you were expected to be able to cast one. You couldn’t even cast an incorporeal patronus so they gave you a tutor, a sixth year prefect, Five.

Five was the year above, he was one of the strictest prefects you had ever met and the smartest person you could think of. In all the time Five had been in Hogwarts he’d never let his grades drop and had never let anyone or anything distract him, cunning and ambitious, you could tell exactly why he was placed in Slytherin. You, on the other hand, had no clue why you were placed in Slytherin, you couldn’t see yourself as ambitious, cunning or resourceful. It was like you were a puzzle piece that on first glance appeared to fit but the piece is slightly misshaped and distorted.

Faint rumours about Five would drift across the school like the ghosts that lurk in every corner. You had heard tales of how powerful he was, all the duels he’d won, all the advanced classes he took and yet he was here with you, desperately trying to get you to succeed. He was only trying to help you so he could add it to his already huge list of things that he’s done for his head boy application.

“If it’s so easy then you do it.” Turning angrily to face him, you crossed your arms as he looked down on you. He was meant to tutor yet he hadn’t even shown you once how to do the spell.

He huffed. “I’m not the one who needs a tutor to cast a simple spell, y/n. Why should I have to do it?” You observed as he stepped back, crossing his arms to mimic yours.

“You should have to do it because you’re meant to be tutoring me, how can I do the spell if you’re not going to show me how!” You just kept getting more angry as the seconds went on, for how smart Five was meant to be he didn’t have any people skills. He was avoiding eye contact with you, opening and closing his mouth, searching for an answer as you just looked at him expectantly.

“It’s,” you thought for just a moment, Five was about to open up to you, allow you to see into his mad world that he kept to himself. “It’s nothing, I’ve got a head cold right now, it’s difficult to concentrate on casting spells. Let’s just call it a day and I’ll see you in a week at the same time. Practice when you can, It’d be nice to see an improvement.” And with that you grabbed your robe that goes over your jumper and pushed past him, muttering a small ‘whatever’ as you passed him. No matter how great of a wizard he may be, it didn’t deter from the fact that he was a bit of a dick.

Heading back to the common rooms you take a minuet just to think about Five, during your years at Hogwarts you can’t remember a time when you saw him genuinely laugh or smile, he’s always been so uptight since the day you met him when he was a second year and you’d just been sorted into Slytherin.

“Y/n!” Heavy footsteps reverberated off the walls, getting closer. You turn just in time to see Five stop short of a couple of paces in front of you. “If you’re really serious about learning the patronus charm, meet me before breakfast and then after we can go to the library.” You both started walking in the direction of the common room. “and once we’re there we can so some proper research and actually get this spell down and done with.”

“Sure.” He looked relieved at your response, Five began to fully tell you his plan of action with doing the full research to be able to grasp the true meaning of the spell. You listened intently to his plan, humming to what he was saying. You say the password to the common room while Five continued to talk.

When you reached the corridor to the girls dorms you turn to face Five and give him a smile. “Night Five, I’ll see you in the morning.”

“Night y/n, don’t forget 07:30 A.M tomorrow morning down here.” Five gave you a small smile and walked away to the other corridor and began to walk up the stairs, not before turning to give you a small smile. Maybe spending time with Five wouldn’t be as bad as you thought.

In the library, you had stacks of books laid in front of you, any books even containing the word patronus were on the table with you and Five scanning through. You had been going through books for about an hour, only revising information you already knew.

“What’s the most rebellious thing you’ve ever done at Hogwarts?” You ask as you push the book you were currently reading. Five was one of the most well know students but no one knew anything about him at all.

“I’m not very rebellious, I think the worst thing I’ve done is that I was 2 minuets late to a class once.” He copied your actions by pushing his respective book away from him and leant back in his seat. “You?”

You wondered how much you could actually tell him, he was a prefect after all. “I don’t know, I like to teach myself spells before lessons or just silly spells that we wont get taught.” You say matter-o-factly. You watch as Five examined your face, knowing that you were hiding something. “What, don’t you believe me?” Sarcastically acting shocked, you placed a hand over your heart.

Five rolled his eyes. “It’s not that I don’t believe you. It’s just that I’ve heard rumours about you, that’s all.” You looked at him expectantly. “You know that you’ve got an illegal magical creature cartel or that once you broke into the professors lounge, stole alcohol and then sold it at high prices to the 7th years.”

You chuckle at what Five had said, the alcohol ‘rumour’ was true and to say the least it was one of your proudest achievements within the school. “If I confirm any of those rumours will you grass on me?” Five shook his head. “It was me with the alcohol. I would just like to confirm that I definitely do not have any form of cartel.” Five smirks, you both ask questions back and forth until it was time for you both to go off for lessons. You both agree that you would try casting the spell the next day and you went your separate ways, smile on both your faces.

It had been a few days since you and Five had been meeting up to learn how to cast a patronus. However, it’d always end up with you two just sitting and talking for a few hours until it’s time to go to lessons or time to go back to the dorms. Five had really come out of his shell even if it was only to you, it was a new side to Five that hadn’t been seen before and it was nice.

One thing you were especially good at is care for magical creatures, you were always helping Hagrid out with ‘out of curriculum’ tasks. Every Wednesday night you’d sneak out and go to the forbidden forrest and care for a few creatures that needed some extra help. You’d been doing this since second year and now Hagrid left you too it, he knew you treat them well and you wouldn’t get caught. There were some rare creatures you cared for, not to mention some illegal and ‘dangerous’ creatures but you knew they wouldn’t hurt a fly.

But you had gotten lazy when sneaking out, forgetting to check behind you and cover your tracks. You were at the entrance of the forbidden forrest, waiting for 5 minuets before entering to make sure no one was around but you felt a hand get placed on your shoulder.

“Y/n,” It was Five, he knelt down next to you. “What are you doing here, you know you shouldn’t be out of dorms.” You were glad it was only Five but it didn’t stop you from being mad.

“What are you doing here, why did you follow me if you knew you’re not allowed out?” You stared at him expectantly. You sighed “Are you coming then?”

“Where?” Five asked, you just grabbed his hand and kept low as you head into the forest. Five never argued against it or asked any questions. As you reached the clearing you go to every Wednesday, you grab your wand and muttered a quite ‘lumos’ illuminating the opening. You were deep into the forest and knew that the light couldn’t be seen from the castle.

You drop the bag you were carrying that contained various meat and bread to feed the creatures you cared for. You pass your wand to Five for him to hold.

“Y/n, what are we doing-” But you shush him as you could hear steps getting closer, you see him visibly tense and go to grab his wand. Gently, you place a hand on his arm and shake your head before reaching down into your bag to get a piece of bread out.

There she was, a thestral, you’d been looking after her for 3 years now, when you first met her she had a badly damaged wing and couldn’t take off the ground properly but now she was flourishing, she comes back every Wednesday to see you. Today however, she’d brought along her foal, you knelt down so you were height level with the foal and gently offered it some bread.

Stepping back, you turn to look at Five and take in his gobsmacked expression as he eyed the large creatures. “Aren’t- aren’t they classes as extremely dangerous?” You scoffed at his question.

“Do they look dangerous to you?” You went over to him and took back your wand and took his hand, leading him towards the two thestrals. “Come on, I’ll show the others, don’t worry, it’s safe. I’ve been doing this for years.” He didn’t seem to believe you but he let you drag him towards the beautiful creatures, you take his hand that has yours held in a death-grip and place it on the thestrals head.

You let go of Five and step back, watching him relax as he stroked her head. You pat her on the back as she knelt down to allow you to climb on, you nudge Five to get on behind you. Cautiously he sat behind you and wrapped his arms around your waist.

“Brace yourself.” Then you were in the air, soaring away out of the grounds, over the lake and the forests, reaching the stars and beyond. Fives grip loosened around your waist as he looked around in the air, he’d never seen anything so beautiful.

Five was glad he made the decision to go after you them few days ago, he was glad he was assigned as your tutor. He was sick of being boring, sick of just being known as a strict prefect. The real reason he didn’t cast a patronus is because he just didn’t have a good enough memory to be able to conjure one but he wanted to change that and tonight, he was.

Far too quickly you came to a soft landing, you both jumped off before giving the thestrals a soft pat. You let them lead ahead, following them to the rest of the magical creatures you looked after and cared for throughout your time at Hogwarts. The place they were leading you to was a large opening with a small lake, even at the dead of night it was softly lit by various creatures with a gentle buzz from the animals that inhabited it.

“What is this place?” Five was shocked, looking round with large eyes. He was taking in the picture that was in front of him.

“Heaven.” You led Five forward, giving him some snacks to feed the creatures with. The small pups came running towards you first, excited to see what foods you’ve brought them this week. There were crups and kneazles, puffskeins and snidgets. Five then saw Griffins and more thestrals, he couldn’t believe his eyes, all these creatures in one place with not a single one fighting or trying to attack him. Everything he’d ever been told about these creatures was wrong, he was wrong about them.

“Everything in here is protected,” You explain, picking up a crup pup. “I taught myself the Protego Maxima, Fianto Duri and Repello Inimicum charms and use them on this area so only people who travel through on the thestrals can see whats inside, mainly because they know where to go as you can’t see whats inside.” You continue to give love to the crup held in your arms as other creatures make their way over. “People hunt and abuse these animals, I don’t want them to get hurt, they don’t deserve it. There’s some endangered creatures here, so I like to make sure they’re ok.”

Five took a seat next to you, accepting the creatures rubbing against him for attention. You finish dishing out the various snacks and treats to the creatures of the magical world, it was time for you to go back to Hogwarts, you beckon Five back over to the thestral and begin your journey back.

Once reaching the castle grounds you had sneak back into the castle unnoticed, this was the first time you had to get two people back in. You decide the best way of getting back in is to go through the secret passage at the back end of the school, luckily for you, you had acquired the marauders map and were able to see where everyone was at that current time. It was an easy route in that night, you both simply sipped back into the common room.

Just before you turned to walk up to your dorm Five grabbed your arm. “Thank you y/n, for letting me come with you. Sit with me tomorrow at breakfast tomorrow and then straight after we can finally crack the patronus?” You just nodded your head at Five and gave him a smile. A part of you didn’t want to be able to cast the patronus so you could continue spending time with him, in almost a week you’d seen a complete opposite side to Five than the rumours suggested. Five had been acting differently recently as well, being an overall kinder person hadn’t gone unnoticed by professors and students alike.

Five laid in his bed, unable to sleep from the nights events. He couldn’t believe he waited that long to get to know y/n, he can’t believe how boring his time at Hogwarts used to be. In them few days of knowing y/n, Five had had the most fun and interesting time. Not to mention y/n’s way with magical creatures, how much she actually cared for them and she let Five see that side, see her ‘heaven’ as y/n put it. Five hoped that she wouldn’t actually be able to cast the patronus so he could just be with her more. He hoped that after tonight he would finally be able to cast one as well.

The next morning, you were stood in an empty classroom with Five, watching closely as he was about to cast his patronus. You watch his shaking hands as he took a defensive stance, you didn’t know what his patronus could be but then he said the spell.

A silver otter burst from the end of his wand, it slid through the air playfully before dissipating in the air. “An otter?” Five seemed almost disappointed with his patronus.

“An otter represents playfulness and being relaxed, god knows you’ve hid that well.” You joked cheekily joked, nudging his arm. “I guess it’s my turn, innit?” Sighing you turn to the side, allowing for room for whatever patronus would appear, if one would appear at all.

“ Expecto Patronum!” A white light shoots from your wand, through the light a giant thestral galloped graciously, turning towards you, circling you before disappearing. You look at the space where the beautiful beast stood and then turned to look at Fives gobsmacked face. “I did it!” You embraced Five, almost knocking him off his feet.

“You did it.” He sounded almost breathless in his response. He didn’t sound too pleased about it though.

You stepped back. “You don’t sound too happy about it, you actually managed to get me to do it.”

“Well now that you’ve done it, I don’t need to tutor you any more.” He looked sad, at a stretch you could say devastated.

“I’m still going to hang round with you even if you don’t need to tutor me anymore. You’re pretty good craic to be honest, I’d like to keep that around.” Five smiled to your response, glad not to be losing a quick found friend. Maybe the rest of your time at Hogwarts wouldn’t be so bad.

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bluesweatersleeve · 5 years

Text

Aw, what's wrong? Are you sick?

for @corkcollector

from yur uhhh are you sick drawing :)

fitz/matt..???

tl:dr = fitz kidnap poor babey matt, gives him pill(s) and now matt has bad stomach ache :( oh cam? Uh cam not here… anyways…

Its bad and rushed because i had like 50 ideas for your drawing and i just decided “welp, whatever i wanna put in along the way ill just put oh well” lol ill have a list of what i wanted to put at the bottom

DAMNIT ITS FORMATTED DIFFERENTLY awhatever im too tired to fix it im sorry please forgive i might fix in the morning but i must sleep my leg tingles

The rope began to hurt his wrists, though his ankles became numb to the constant pricking of the roughness. The ropes little bumps and ridges scratched at Matt, going up and down, sometimes side to side. Being restrained to a chair meant non stop struggling, and the rope had begun to dig into his wrists, and even though Matt couldn’t see his wrists, he bet that they were red with pain, perhaps more red than Matt’s red flushed face from the humidity of the basement.

Even if Matt had been stripped down into nothing, the heat would still feel like as though it was personally choking him. Matt didn’t know if it was the heat or maybe if the wounds scattered across his body began to become infected from neglect, but he began to feel sick. And it was evident through his coughs.

Though the coughs felt more like than just a cough. They felt as though it was killing him slowly, and perhaps it was, but Matt refused to let himself die in a dusty, muggy basement. Especially a basement that didn’t even belong to him or a friend. The coughs only progressively got worse though, the outcome transitioning from nothing to blood. It was always blood, never anything else.

Matt refused to look at the small blood patches surrounding him. He knew it was there, and he knew it was from him, but the look of it made the coughs return. The smell was bad enough, but the look of the dried, and recent blood combined only made it worse.

Matt’s only release from everything was when he would pass out from lack of food, or when night fell, and he would be left alone to sleep for the next round of abuse. Though sometimes, his captor liked to interfere with Matt’s temporary feeling of freedom.

Sometimes, Matt’s captor makes Matt sick. But Matt would rather die than be sick.

The cold water splashed onto Matt, the water, although a refreshing feeling from the constant heat Matt felt, was still a shock, and it stung into Matt’s fresh scars from his captor’s lovely session of torture earlier in the day.

“Ah-!” Matt gasped, the pain and shock combining into a sound. Matt gasped for air as the water dripped from his hair, and began to cough, already feeling something build in his throat. “F-fuck!”

Matt coughed, the blood falling from his mouth and landing onto the floor with a soft splat.

“Disgusting.” The man that towered over him laughed, throwing the once water filled bucket off to the side. He moved slowly as he stood off to the side of Matt, narrowing his eyes when he saw another blood patch fall to the ground. Fitz scoffed as Matt’s coughs continued. A sly smirk played onto his face. “Hmph, look at you. Weak, puny, dying.”

“N-no!” Matt choked out, spitting the blood out from his mouth. The blood ran down his lip as he weakly glared at Fitz, the fighting spirit in his eyes beginning to stir again. “I-I’m not-”

Matt’s head dropped down as another coughing fit began, his throat beginning to ache as blood clogged up, feeling like it only moved a centimeter each hack he had. The blood came out in pieces, landing in the water coloring it red. Matt felt like passing out from the coughing fit, but his attention was focused on Fitz who smiled smugly at him.

“I-I’m not dying..”

“You so sure about that?” Fitz asked as if to mock Matt’s statement. He laid his hands softly onto Matt’s shoulders, holding it with a wicked grin. “You’ve been coughing blood for how long now? 3, 4 days? Oh! And how long has those wounds been on you? 6, or maybe a whole week?”

“No-”

“Oh Matt, how will you ever get better after this? Normal medicine won’t do..” Fitz said, looking at Matt who turned his head to the side to avoid his gaze. “Good thing I don’t use normal medicine.”

Matt’s eyes became alert and his head whipped around to look at Fitz. Fitz smirked at him and brought his hand behind him, pulling out a bottle of white pills. Matt’s tough persona broke, and he shook his head, lowering it, and feeling himself begin to break down. Fitz chuckled, and rattled the bottle as he circled Matt and stopped in front of him, looking at Matt’s lowered yet almost still head. The tears fell onto Matt’s already wet shirt, and FItz rolled his eyes.

“Stop crying, you fucking child.” Fitz grabbed a handful of Matt’s hair and pulled it up, forcing Matt to look at him. Fitz’s face scrunched up as Matt looked.at him tearfully. Matt snarled and glared at Fitz, who growled back. “God, you’re disgusting. Good thing I’m getting rid of you.”

Fitz opened the bottle, and took out a few looking at Matt who stared at the pills with fear. The white pills looked as though they were glowing in Fitz’s hand under the moonlight. The rest of the pills were thrown off to the side, close to where the bucket lay.

Fitz approached Matt, and time seemed to move slow, as if to torture Matt in what might be his last day alive. Matt stared at Fitz through half-lidded eyes, who stared at him back. Fitz managed to catch him off guard and grabbed Matt’s hair quickly, and pulled it again, Matt’s mouth hanging loose to which Fitz used to his advantage and dropped the pills in. Matt instantly tried to spit them out, but failed when Fitz clamped a hand over his mouth.

“Mm- mh!” Matt shook his head, trying to remove Fitz’s hand from his mouth. Fitz grabbed the back of Matt’s head and held him still, smiling as Matt’s half-lidded eyes turned wide eyed with panic. “Mmm!”

“If you swallow it, this’ll be over so much quicker.” Fitz said, tightening his grip on Matt’s head. Matt shook his head, but complied when Fitz began to crush his hands together.

Matt closed his eyes as he forced himself to slowly swallow the half dissolved pills, having to also swallow the bitter and gross saliva pool in his mouth. Matt opened his eyes and glared at Fitz when finished, but he folded when a sharp and sudden pain hit his stomach. Fitz let go of Matt and watched as Matt twitched with pain.

Matt breathed heavily and looked at Fitz, who smiled cheerfully at him. Matt lurched forward, and cried out in agony as the pain continued.

“D-damnit..” Matt heaved, dropping his head as the pain disappeared and reappeared. “F-fuck you!”

“Aw, what's wrong? Are you sick?” Fitz laughed, glancing back at the bottle of pills. He smiled and turned back to Matt “If you’d like, I can give you more.”

“N-no!” Matt writhed with pain, feeling it beginning to throb, as if it had a mind of it’s own and knew Matt hated it. “Please, no!”

Fitz cackled and stepped away from the view in front of him. Matt’s poor attempt at trying to stop the pain ended with the rope on his wrists digging deeper into him. Matt didn't know what to do, but all he felt was an extreme pain that seemed to spread all across his body. Matt wished he could scream, but his throat was clogged with blood and saliva, only letting whimpers and chokes out.

Fitz held Matt's head softly, trying to stop himself from laughing as Matt shook.

"Ah, don't worry Matt, by this night you should be dead." Fitz proudly announced to him, pulling away from him and walking to the door. "Keep coughin' Matt, because if you're not dead by tonight, then I'll kill you myself."

Fitz revealed a metal bat that rest just behind the thick wooden door frame, and tapped it on the floor, letting it echo, and sound over Matt's pained whines. He took one last glance at the soon to be corpse, and smirked at what he has made of Matt.

The door slammed shut, and Matt knew it was the last time he would hear it, thank god, because Matt could already feel himself slipping from consciousness.

Matt smiled weakly and looked at the door.

"I'll see you, Cam.." Matt murmured, dropping his head, letting the pain overtake him as his breathing slowed. "I'll see..you.."

WELP heres like all 50 of my ideas lolol

-fitz pretends to be cam, puts something in matts drink and turns him into a mindslave (and a 2nd one but matt dies instead)

-fitz pretends to be cam, puts something in matts drink, and matt begins to forget stuff, and eventually forgets e v e r y t h i n g, and is stuck in an neverending existential crises

-matt was gonna spit in fitz's faces before being forced to take the pills

-matt was gonna go crazy after taking the pills like "death? dont know her! fuck you!"

-there was gonna be no bloody cough before but i said yeah sure why not

-fitz was gonna wrap ropes around matt to increase his pain, or he was gonna let matt out of his chair but like, break his limbs (then i was like "wait a minute idk how to write bones!), and let him writhe in pain

-cams spirit gonna appear oOoOo (then i said no! this isnt wattpad!)

-idk in the basement theres a small ass window, and i was gonna have some weird ass connection to the moon but was like nah

-was gonna add a whole thing of cam being the next victim and matts dead body just in front of him the whole time, and fitz comes down and he's holding the pills

-^^if i was gonna add that, once cam died, fitz was gonna call his fukin goons and be like "alright the first couples down, get the next one. ah..swagger and toby was it?"

-i was too lazy

-bUt there was gonna be one where cam just breaks into the basement and beats the shit out of fitz and leaves with matt

-^^or it was gonna be fitz reacts like the fucking flash and beats his ass first and taunts matt with his bruised/dead body

-i was too lazy

okay im donee..its 4:02am im gonna sleep i hope you see this hahhxhhdha

bye sisters, respect the queen or i slice your peen

of course queen is toby.

#gay baby gang #goodguyfitz #badguyfitz #fitz #inotorious #misfits podcast #misfits au #??#do i put podcastt or..#idk how this works #writing/official #respect queen or i slice your peen

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dynamic-instability · 4 years

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In one of my classes we have to write weekly personal narratives about an experience with illness. This week, mine turned into this. It’s probably too personal, and too... immediate?? to turn in to a professor without cutting out a lot of stuff, but not too personal to post online I guess lol

_____________________________

It’s November again.

In 2009 the lights were too bright. Mid-October one morning I woke up to my dad turning on my lights and it was like having to look into the sun while posing for a photo—my eyes wouldn’t stay open, if I forced them to, they couldn’t stay pointed in one direction, they spasmed and hurt. When the light was dimmed, I still saw double. That morning, I showered in the dark, and I remember being scared. They gave me eyedrops that paralyzed my accommodative muscles. In November my pupils were giant discs and I wore reading glasses over sunglasses to look at the computer, and when it was all said and done, the lights were still too bright, and I still saw double.

In 2011 I was tired. There’s fatigue and then there’s fatigue, I learned that Fall. In May of that year I had pulled two all-nighters in a week, and that was the only other time I’d felt this kind of tired, a sensation in about the 30th hour of the second time where it’s like my brain itched. I once saw someone else online describe it as “nausea, but in your head and eyes instead of in your throat and stomach” and that’s the closest anyone else has come to describing it. By November this was happening more and more often. I remember laying down in the corner of the room during a break of Citywide choir and thinking what the hell is wrong with me? I got a cold the next week, and I thought that maybe that was all it was. It wasn’t.

In 2013 I went to the ER for the fifth time in three months of college, and when I wanted to leave before waiting another couple of hours to eventually see a doctor who would tell me once again that they couldn’t do anything to help me, the woman from student life who was there to drive me back to campus made me call my parents on speaker phone and get their permission to leave before she would turn on the car. I had missed more chemistry labs than I could afford to miss without failing, passed out in a voice lesson, was asked by the director to drop out of choir because watching me was distraction when I looked like I was in pain, and if I passed out it would have ruined the concert for everyone. I remember leaving calculus in the mornings mid-class to go to the bathroom and lay on the floor and cry. I remember not being able to lift my hand off the mattress of my dorm room bed. I withdrew from half of my classes on the Tuesday after Thanksgiving, and took the Spring semester off.

In 2014 I had made a promise to myself that I would come back to college full time for that Fall semester just to see if I could do it, and then if I couldn’t I would drop out for good. There was one week where I thought that might be happening. Mid-November. The girls in my dorm had made a fort in the lounge out of sheets and blankets and colorful scarves and I remember laying on the couch through the green-filtered light and feeling the world spin and thinking oh god I still can’t do this. The door opened with a rush of cold air and my friends came in with food for me, since I’d been too sick to go to dinner. They sat with me and helped me with chemistry, offered to type up a paper if I dictated it, told jokes and made me laugh. I took an incomplete in one class, but I passed everything else, just barely scraped through, and came back in January.

In 2015 I just wanted to sleep. I passed out in an elevator and heard familiar voices, concerned voices, as I came to, and I stayed there laying motionless for another minute longer, because as long as I wasn’t awake I didn’t have to keep pushing. I wrote whole pages of completely unreadable ochem notes because my hand wasn’t working any better than my brain, and woke up on the floor and was wheeled out on a stretcher crying. It was dark all the time. My cane slipped on wet leaves and I felt my wrist crunch and there it was, one too many missed organic chemistry labs. I couldn’t stand for an entire choir rehearsal because breathing to sing made me lightheaded. I slept for 16 hours a day. The week before Thanksgiving, I called my mother to tell her I had decided to take another hardship withdrawal, and she sighed. I had applied to transfer schools during my much more optimistic Spring semester and Summer, and the week I left was also the week I found out I’d been accepted.

And so okay now it’s 2019, and it’s October and now November again, semester plan again, dark again. My reading is piling up again, feeling overwhelmed again, laying on my kitchen floor again. But here’s the thing—my health is… fine? Midterm week I didn’t sleep, and yes I passed out twice, but no ER. For the past 18 months, I can count on one hand the number of mornings I’ve been unable to get out of bed because of fatigue. My heart still pounds too hard but my head doesn’t swim every time I sit up. I walk the streets of New York City like mobility has never been a problem. I always take the stairs. My brain doesn’t itch until it’s been 30 hours no sleep.

I couldn’t go to class last week. I lay on the floor of my kitchen and stared up at the ceiling and tried to get up, tried to type out an email to my professors, and I couldn’t do it. I was not too tired. I was not too weak. I was not in pain. I could not move. I try to write and try to write and try to write and the words don’t come. I eat instant oatmeal at 9 PM because I haven’t been to the store in a month. I have lost nearly 15 pounds since moving to New York. I clean the stove for two and a half hours but can’t bring myself to take the dead spider off the side of the bathtub. I check the door lock one-two-three times, pace the floor, sit back down. I do not read Austerlitz. I write a Canvas post for Self and Other but it’s nonsense. I do not write a Canvas post for Accounts of Self. I do not write a Canvas post for Applied Writing. I write a Canvas post for Illness and Disability and somehow forget to post it, the one thing I’ve actually done, because I’m too busy feeling sick at everything I haven’t. I shadow a doctor for the clinical witnessing assignment and everything is fine but when I try to write it up I have a panic attack that leaves me sobbing on my couch and the assignment nine days late and counting. It takes me eight hours to write two pages. I watch 18 hours of YouTube video essays discussing drama about creators I don’t even watch and play a stupid game on my phone for an entire weekend until I’ve spent $25+ in a labyrinth of microtransations and every time I close my eyes I see the moving dots.

In November of 2015 I had three overdue essays for Global Literature, and two more due in the next two weeks. More than half were on books I had not read. My pre-lab wasn’t done for organic chemistry, and I wondered for a moment, if I pretended to pass out, if that would be easier. I stayed up until 4 AM laying on my floor and listening to Hamilton. I was sick, that much is true, but when I felt okay I still sat at my computer and could not bring myself to write.

In 2011 I had so many unfinished assignments for my college-level English class that I resigned myself to failing and I went to school the morning of the final class, but I hid in the stairwell by the choir room until I heard the bell, and I never went back to that class.

2009 was the year my dad stopped being able to yell at me for not doing my homework, because no one, including me, could tell whether it was actually my eyes stopping me.

In 2008 I wrote 6 essays in the 5 days of Thanksgiving break because I had not done any work for Intro to Lit all semester. I pulled it off, somehow, even aced the class because of an unusually lenient late work policy, but what I most remember is the sick feeling of dread as I lay on the floor in the living room staring up at the Christmas tree and feeling invisible sand slip through an invisible hourglass and a vice tightening in my chest.

In 2006 I stayed up almost all night writing a paper and crying my eyes out because I couldn’t find the words to explain to anyone why it had been so impossible for me to get the work done, that I wasn’t being lazy or distracted, I just couldn’t do it. I wasn’t necessarily reading YA novels or watching TV or IMing my friends instead of working, I could sit and stare at a blank word document for 6 hours straight and still it would not get done. Everyone talked about potential, talked about how smart I was, but a gradebook that is half 100’s and half 0’s still averages out to an F. No one, including me, could explain the discrepancy. The logic of that simple math was not lost on me, the knowledge that turning in half-finished or not very good work was mathematically better than not doing it, but that didn’t mean I could do it. Words failed me when I tried to explain the illogic of my particular suffering.

I didn’t hear the term executive dysfunction until I was in my 20s. In retrospect I was tentatively told at 16 that I had “probably some ADHD and OCD”, but that psychiatrist was someone I’d been sent to by a neurologist because he thought she could fix my eyes, and when she said she couldn’t, I stopped making appointments. After I got sick, physically sick, the lines blurred between what was causing what, to the point where even I have no idea. Two of the Novembers missing here are ones I spent at CC, on the block plan where I only took one class at a time. My physical health arguably improved a little after transferring in January of 2016, but mostly it didn’t, not until Spring of 2018 at least. And you can see that evidence in dropped blocks, concussions from passing out onto hard surfaces, a couple of incompletes taken when viral illnesses (or concussions) compounded my other problems. What the block plan changed was the way things pile up, lessened the struggle of constant task switching between classes. (Admittedly, I also had fewer papers when taking mostly science classes. Writing takes much more energy, and it’s much harder to convince myself it doesn’t have to be perfect to be worth submitting.) At CC nothing ever really reached the level of catastrophe. Some of that is purely the ability to drop a single block, meaning when it was my physical health that was the problem, I didn’t lose a whole semester, just one class, then reset. But I should have realized sooner that the block plan wouldn’t account for the level of improvement if my physical health had really been the only barrier.

So we’re back to now. Grad school. November again. Dark again. Semester plan again. Too much writing again. Crushing dread again. Dysfunction again. Panic attack in the middle of the night increasingly elaborate organizing rituals scream of the subway tracks in my mind can’t stop can’t start can’t breathe can’t move burnout again. This time without the explanation of chronic fatigue to fall back on.

I have my tricks, have actually learned somewhat to cope in the past 18 years. Schedules help, break tasks into pieces that are as small as possible. Mindfulness meditation. Forgive yourself when it’s not perfect. Get started with something easy, set a timer for 20 minutes and only work for those 20 minutes and then let yourself stop if you want to (and surprisingly often, you won’t want to, sometimes that momentum is all it takes). If you work better in the night, work in the night, who cares what society says your sleep schedule should be. When switching tasks, physically get up and move to a different location. Allow yourself to procrastinate on work with other work if that’s what you have to do. Delete the stupid games from your phone. One or two missed assignments are not actually the end of the world, if you let yourself view it as piling up, you won’t be able to get anything done, so if you absolutely have to, just move through and move on.

It’s not a catastrophe, this November. It’s a fight, but it’s not a catastrophe. I read Austerlitz and forgive myself for skimming it. I write a Canvas post and forgive myself when it’s only 500 words and doesn’t make complete sense. I read Toni Morrison and Édouard Louis and classmates’ discussion posts about Deaf culture and identity and remember why this matters in the first place, that it’s not just a series of assignments to overwhelm me, it’s a series of interesting complicated exhausting important thoughts and questions. I get it done. Some of it. Most of it. I let myself sleep. I breathe. I remember to be grateful because I can get out of bed in the mornings and take the stairs. I am okay.

#chronic illness #executive dysfunction #chronic fatigue #College and chronic illness #personal lol

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roominthecastle · 5 years

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I can't help but think you're being a bit too hard on Eleanor because of ship bias. I mean, why would you called her 'her worst self' and 'selfish' when she's always been one to throw stuff to get in heaven (even with the character development)? But suddenly she's being sappy and depending on someone who isn't Michael and the whole M/E fandom is at her throat. I'm as unconfortable as the next shipper with all the C/E scenes but is it really Eleanor and her characterization that's at fault?

Yes, of course I am biased (to a certain degree). When the show caters to my preferences, I’m more docile and much less likely to nitpick and complain, when it doesn’t and it drops the ball to boot, I get grumpy. So I’m your garden variety fan, basically. But I don’t believe I’m “at Eleanor’s throat”. Her and Chidi being together doesn’t make me uncomfortable bc it’s her and Chidi and not her and Michael (+ I often see things popping up in the C/E dynamic that can have potentially interesting implications for Michael’s development and for M/E, too. Generally speaking, the three of them make up a curious whole for me).

I know the chances of (2-sided) M/E happening are somewhere btw zero and never, so I’m not exactly eyeballing C/E as some kind of obstacle to my personal shipper nirvana, jumping at any chance to “punish” Eleanor for choosing the “wrong” partner. But I do feel uncomfortable with the way the C/E romance is written this season. “They are sidelining my no. 1 dynamic”, while frustrating, is not the reason for this, it’s not why I’m not crazy about Eleanor’s behavior and Chidi’s OOC-ness.

Eleanor + character development always resulted in stuff like her being emotional and vulnerable w/o getting aggressive and demanding, her accepting it when Chidi turned her down w/ dignity despite feeling heartbroken, and her being considerate of others to the point of volunteering to go to the Bad Place to save them. This is where she was a year ago and the year before that at the end of each season. This is not where she is now. I’m not saying being selfish and throwing stuff is not in her character make up or her problem-solving toolbox. Her overcoming these impulses, however, is the very point of her character development (made blindingly obvious last season when she lied about passing the Judge’s test and refused to go through the portal to TGP). What we have (currently! so it can change any time) in S3 is the opposite (see the in-your-face door to TGP that won’t open for her), it’s her completely giving in to these impulses to the point of seriously endangering everyone, meaning that she has, in fact, regressed. I suspect it is a point the show is trying to make but we’ll have to wait and see.

In “Janets”, all Janet asks is that they stay put until she and Michael deal w/ accounting. Eleanor works herself into a state over Chidi not opening up to her on command, putting Janet through hell and almost erasing her friends from existence while her own self is also disintegrating. Despite the serious consequences, this harmful behavior carries right over into the next ep where all Michael asks is that they lay low bc folks in TGP are so rule obsessed, they can send all of them right back to TBP. Eleanor immediately smashes stuff at the door to TGP bc it doesn’t open up for her when she demands it. It’s her bullying of Chidi from the previous ep all over again, only in a vase-meets-door form. Even Chidi has to be all about her now as he magically turns into a grossly idealized version of himself (see in S2 how she rejected a similar “fake Chidi”), spending the entire ep trying to prevent her from blowing up again while the rest of the team is cleaning up the mess in the mail room and Michael is away trying to fix the calculation issue. Despite the crazy-intense circumstances, everybody is trying to do something for somebody else except her - she is still hyper-focused on herself and it stands out to me bc this is a version of her I’ve never seen before and it’s def not the best one.

Again, it’s not because she is w/ Chidi but the issues become especially apparent within that dynamic since the second Michael showed her those memories, she just latched onto Chidi, expecting him to fill the void left by her screwed up upbringing that’s been freshly dredged up thanks to her not-dead mother. They made her lurch from “I’m incapable of love” to “I’m madly in love and nothing else matters”, hand-waving determinism while failing to provide any other reason why these 2 are suddenly together again. They are trying to play it as romantic/funny but it’s not romantic when someone’s whole identity has to be propped up by another person and it’s not funny how that other person has to repress his own identity/issues to be able to do this. It’s a suffocating, unsustainable interplay. Or if it’s meant to be interpreted as “love cures mental illness and erases every character flaw in 5 minutes, so you can finally be the proper romantic partner”, then it’s even worse. You don’t have to be a shipper of another ship or look too deep into this story to see these (imo) legitimate problems (but it helps, yes, since it’s natural to be more critical of sth you’re not emotionally invested in and gloss over stuff to preserve the fun potential when it’s your OTP or sth, I do give you that).

Eleanor having to coerce love and attention out of Chidi will never be cute, either, or proof that those feelings were there all along. People pushed some quotes from WJH into my face about how Chidi calms down bc he finally has what he always wanted - interesting choice of words, btw, given the pin Michael gave Eleanor - but 1) an actor’s opinion will not automatically replace my own (no, not even if it’s Ted’s or some other big fave’s) and 2) how exactly were we supposed to glean that Chidi wanted to be with her so much in this reboot? Was it when he went steady w/ another woman despite Eleanor being an option all along? was it when he refused to give private lessons to her bc he was just too busy? or was it when he - despite witnessing her meltdown - sent her packing bc they already had enough material for his study? For some reason the writers missed every opportunity to build this up properly and make this extremely syrupy display stick, but I’ve already said everything about that in another post.

This whole idea of “he felt this way all along, he just didn’t actually show it, so we can skip actual development” is a lazy, corner-cutting approach which reminds me of the worst kind of fanservice attempts I’ve had the misfortune of experiencing with several of my favorite shows recently. I have very low tolerance for that stuff now bc it never ends well. I did not expect to see this particular brand on this particular show, but here we are, I guess. Or if it’s a case of creative exhaustion/boredom where this billion times rebooted couple is concerned, then maybe it’s time to park them and give a not yet over-explored dynamic some attention instead to keep things fresh and fluid as opposed to stale and forced - again, not an unreasonable request, even if it comes from someone who is invested in another dynamic, given the lack of care that was apparently put into developing C/E this season.

I don’t like not liking things on this show (and it’s not Eleanor I don’t like, it’s the way they deconstructed her in order to write her back into a relationship as if she couldn’t exist w/o it), and I am sorry if I disappointed or offended bc it was not my intention. I hope they flip things or introduce a new angle that will make me re-evaluate. I am always open to that whenever new material arrives and I honestly hope they will make me eat my words soon. I will merrily absorb the suckerpuches. But for now, this is my opinion and “you just don’t like that she is not with your fave” - while a natural factor - is not the main reason why I made my comments.

#lewyn-martell #michael x eleanor #long post #musings

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kisskissbanggang · 5 years

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50 Questions Tag!

Tagged by sublime @rubyyong 💕

1.What takes up too much of your time?

Procrastinating! (Or work lately)

2. What makes your day better?

The sun on my face and a cup of coffee.

3. Whats the best thing to happen to you today?

Ugh I made some delicious fried rice for breakfast this morning, and it's my day off!

4. What fictional place would you like to go to?

One of the first settings that really drew me in was The Matrix to be completely frank with you. Or I really enjoy the waste and weird world of the Tank Girl series.

5. Are you good at giving advice?

Good at giving, but not taking.

6. Do you have a mental illness?

The therapist said I had mild anxiety and PTSD 🤷🏻‍♀️

7. Have you ever experience sleep paralysis?

Nope!

8. What musician inspired you the most?

Okay am I allowed to say Patrick Stump and how I still believe his musical peak has been his solo stuff

9. Have you ever fallen in love?

I'd say so. 👀

10. What’s your dream date?

I'm a sucker for day trips. Pizza Week is coming up in Portland soon, as is Burger Week. There's some national parks around I want to visit. The hotel used as the Overlook Hotel is about an hour away. Plenty I want to do for amazing day trip dates!

11. What do others notice about you?

Mostly, how much deeper my neutral tone is than my "work" voice I put on. Also I have a horrid laugh like a seagull squawk.

12.Whats an annoying habit you have?

Good at giving advice, bad at taking it. I'm a slave to my own desires, laziness being the top of that list.

13. Do you still talk to your first love?

Nope!

14. How many exes do you have?

Like real, pre-fiance era? Because if we don't count middle school past middle school, do we count high school past high school? Anyhow... Like 7? Or 8?

15. How many songs are in your playlist?

My wake-up playlist for my commute is about thirty songs?

16. What instruments can you play?

I used to play saxophone more than a decade ago lmao

17. What do you have the most pictures of?

Selfies and food.

18. Where would you like to go before you die?

Someone bring me to Australia pls.

19. Whats your Zodiac?

Sun sign: Capricorn

Moon sign: Aries

Ascending: Gemini

Chinese: Rooster

20. Do you relate to it?

My natal chart is pretty accurate, I'd say!

21. What is happiness to you?

Happiness is akin to contentedness for me. If I'm content and pleased, whether that's with hard work or relaxing, then I'm pretty happy. I like meeting my goals.

22. are you going through anything right now?

Just getting used to my new job and trying to balance writing with that!

23. Whats the worst decision you ever made?

Oof. Some of the worst are guy related, but I've started some bad fights in this relationship. I have an amazing relationship but it really is work.

24. Whats your favourite store?

Daiso!

25. Whats your opinion on abortion?

A right and sometimes a necessity.

26. Do you keep a bucket list?

A loose one, perhaps.

27. Do you have a favourite album?

Hey surprise it's Infinity on High by Fall Out Boy

28. What do you want for your birthday?

Awh I just had one a few months ago! I just want a yummy cake on my day off. Maybe a day trip to the skating rink!

29. What are most people’s first impressions of you?

Goofy or intimidating and little to no in between

30. What age do you seem according to most people?

Under 25 still, apparently!

31. Where do you keep your phone while you’re sleeping?

Under my pillow when I'm using a regular charger cord. Otherwise it's on my charging pad on the nightstand.

32. What word to you say the most?

"Ugh"

33. Whats the oldest age you would date?

Does it really matter? Though you do tend to lose inherent shared interests the older you go.

34. Whats the youngest age you would date?

Refer to previous answer. 😘

35. What job/career do most people say would suit you?

Ugh people really insisted I should be a teacher. Thankfully my dude agreed that idea was bonkers.

36. Whats your favourite music genre?

Alternative rock or electro-funk.

37. If you could live in any country in the world, where would it be?

I'm fine being here for now, but I've humored Canada a few times.

38. What is your current favourite song?

Come Alive - Chromeo ft. Toro Y Moi

39. How long have you had this blog for?

Only a handful of months! I started this blog right before Christmas.

40. What are you excited for?

SUNSHINE UGH I require photosynthesis.

41. Are you a better talker or listener?

Talker. I can speak to crowds, I can talk to strangers, I can make small talk. However, I do love listening. That being said, I'll speak for you if you think you can't or don't want to.

42. What is the last productive thing you did?

I just came back from the mall where I dropped off an Amazon return?

43. What do you want for Christmas?

I currently get the majority of my cosmetics and skincare products during holidays from my mother since she knows I don't want to spend that kind of money. I look forward to it!

44. What Class do you get the best grades in?

English and art!

45. On a scale of 1-10, how are you feeling right now?

Solid 6? It's a fair enough day.

46. What can you see yourself doing in ten years?

Hopefully living in our own place with a couple of dogs!

47. When did you get your first heartbreak?

Awh, like romantically? I must've been 12? After my first boyfriend?

48. What age do you want to get married?

I mean we're getting married next year 👀

49. What career did you want to have as a child?

I wanted to be a zookeeper or marine biologist or a movie director! And I did end up studying something akin to one of those.

50. what do you crave right now?

Someone make me some s'mores my sweet tooth has been killing me.

Tagging: @wildernessuntothemselves @00-k @ultimate-kpop-trash-scenarios @justanotherblackchick @taurusjaehyun 💕💕💕

#tag games

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melodyofmuses · 5 years

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@awreckageofstarss

Hiccup woke up feeling warm and content in a way he’d never felt before, and yet strangely numb. His left arm was completely numb and yet he was too comfortable to even think about shifting. A slight movement in the bed made Hiccup’s eyes snap open, gaze instantly falling to the woman in his arms. It wasn’t a dream, he had slept with Astrid in his arms all night after he inked a dragon onto her back. A lazy grin slipped onto his face, loving the way her golden locks had fallen out of her braid to spread out over his chest.

The inventor lay there for a while, enjoying the simple pleasure of holding the girl he loves in his arms. Eventually Toothless decided he’d lain in bed long enough, trudging over to nudge his rider. “All right Bud, just gimme a minute, okay?” Green eyes watched the dragon take a step back, sitting expectantly at the end of the bed.

Toothless had been up since before the grey dawn had broken, green eyes fixed on the humans in the bed. He knew the importance of spending time with your mate, which was why he had allowed Hiccup to sleep in a little longer, but the sun was beginning to rise and he needed to stretch his wings. Impatiently he settled at the end of the bed, luminous eyes demanding Hiccup get out of bed already.

Snorting at the impatient dragon Hiccup gently slid out from under Astrid, reaching for his prosthetic to attach the metal appendage. Peeling the blanket back he took a look at her marking, her skin looked like it could use a little more saliva and bandaging the whole thing might be a good idea to prevent her shirt irritating the tender skin. Leaning in he pressed a kiss to her lips, his fingers lightly tracing the dragon on her back from nose to tail.

“Mmm, is this how I get woken from now on?” Astrid smiled, almost rolling onto her back before she realised she didn’t have her bindings or a shirt on. Blue eyes fluttered open to gaze up at Hiccup. “’Cause I could definitely get used to this.” Reaching for the blanket, she tugged it to her chest before sitting up.

Hiccup couldn’t help the goofy smile on his face as she pulled him in for a proper kiss. “Mmm, morning to you too Milady.” Capturing her lips once more he tugged her into his arms, forcing her to wrap her arms around his neck as he stood up and carried her over to the chair. “Hey Bud, think you can give her a little lick for me?”

The black dragon rolled his eyes at their antics, but at least it meant he was closer to having their flight. Dragging his tongue over the blonde’s back he watched the boy take a seat behind the girl. Green eyes watched the boy tug the blanket free, hands carefully winding bandages all the way up the girl’s back until the whole design was covered.

“There, that should do it.” Next was her hair, Hiccup gently combed her hair out before re-braiding it with all the flyaways and loose strands tucked back into place. He knew she could do it but he wasn’t sure how sore she would be, and he really didn’t want her in pain while she attempted to do what he could do for her. “I gotta go take this useless reptile out for a flight. I’ll see you later, okay?”

Astrid sighed, leaning back into his warm body as his arms wound around her, his lips placing a lingering kiss to her neck. Then he was gone, tugging his shirt and riding gear on as an excitable dragons bounced around the hut. “Have a good flight.” She called after them as they left the hut, leaving her to dress for the day and head down to the main hall.

For the next two days Astrid went to Hiccup’s hut, or he came to hers, morning and night to cover her back in dragon saliva and clean bandages, before Astrid brightly told Hiccup the tenderness and irritation was gone. Slipping into his hut Astrid grinned at the young rider getting ready for bed. Quiet footsteps meant he hadn’t heard her come in, his back turned to her as he removed his shirt, only for her to gasp at the sight of bandages on his right bicep and left side of his chest. “Hiccup, why didn’t you tell me Ryker hurt you?” They had fended off a hunter’s raiding party the day before.

“M-milady!” Hiccup spun to face his valkyrie, surprised by her presence. “I-it’s not what it looks like, I promise. Ryker didn’t do this.” Fingers fumbling with the bandage on his right arm, he slowly unwound the bandage to reveal his personal crest of a Night Fury on his right arm, lining up exactly where it sat on his armour. “I uh- I was inspired by your marking and decided I should have a couple of my own.” Moving to the other bandage, Hiccup removed the cloth covering the left side of his chest.

Blue eyes widened, a shuddered gasp as she saw what was there. Emblazoned on his chest, directly over his heart, was a Deadly Nadder. It’s head was low, wings unfurled, and tail raised, ready for battle and guarding his heart. “Hiccup, I- .” There were no words, it was beautiful and she knew he’d done it just to prove he belonged to her.

“You have me, Astrid, all of me. Now and forever.” Bold steps brought him over to the Valkyrie, one arm looping around her waist while the other lifted her hand to rest against the Nadder. “Carve out my heart, it’s your name written there.” She wore his personal symbol, not the Haddock family crest, his, and now he would wear hers. His heart beat for her and her alone, of that he was certain, just as he knew she would guard it with all the ferocity of a Nadder.

Blue eyes gazed up, almost overwhelmed by the intensity of his devotion. The girl had to remind herself to breathe she was so lost in the power of his stare. “Hiccup, she’s beautiful.” Carefully her fingers traced the skin just beside the Nadder, before laying the lightest of kisses to the inked form.

“Yes, you are.” Hiccup murmured softly, fingers lifting her chin to kiss her as he’d been wanting to all day. A few more kisses peppered her face before he finally pulled away, taking a seat and calling Toothless over to lick his markings. “Okay Bud, do your thing.” He sat still for a moment, letting the dragon cover his markings with saliva before he felt Astrid step forward and bandage them back up. Smiling, he followed the blonde to his bed, removing his prosthetic and settling down for her to use his chest for a pillow while they slept.

The next morning brought a flurry of commotion. After the most recent hunter raid Hiccup thought it was a good idea for them all to return to Berk and visit their families. They had been away for a while now and it would do them some good to spent time with their family and friends. It would also give them a chance to grab any extra provisions they might need while trading some items they’d acquired on their travels. It also provided the perfect cover for Hiccup to take care of a personal matter.

The riders reached Berk just in time for lunch, the famished riders quickly removing their packs so their dragons could feed themselves before joining the vikings for the noon meal. Stoick appraised his son as they ate, there was something different about his son, but he couldn’t seem to put his finger on it. All he knew was something was different. Before he could pull Hiccup aside, Gobber whisked the boy away to the forge, rattling off a list of jobs he needed the lad to help him complete while he was there.

Gobber had left to deliver a sharpened sword while checking on an ill dragon, leaving Hiccup to man the forge. It was nearing dinner time, so people stopping by to make requests had long since died away, leaving Hiccup plenty of privacy when a certain Valkyrie dropped by to distract him. Leaning against his workbench he sighed into the kiss, arms wrapped around the spirited blonde, fingers burrowing beneath her top until he could drag them tantalizingly against her bare skin. Her own hands had long since slipped under his shirt, her fingernails scratching lightly against his chest and stomach as he made her whine against his lips. Gods did he love this, being able to hold her and kiss her whenever he wanted. Dipping down to suck teasingly on her neck Hiccup suddenly bolted upright at the sound of Gobber’s voice.

“What the bloody Hel is goin’ on in ‘ere?” Hiccup jerked away, eyes wide like a startled rabbit while Astrid disappeared out of he closest door, leaving Hiccup to face his godfather alone. “What did ye do? I know dragon tails an’ that was a bloody Night Fury on her back. So tell me, what was yer personal symbol doin’ brandin’ that lass like a cheap yak fer sale?”

Hiccup winced, he had really hoped Gobber hadn’t seen that. “S-she asked me for a marking, and she chose one of my sketches and asked me to do it for her, so I did it.” Hiccup replied softly, he really hated actually having to explain this, it was just so...personal. “A-and it’s not just her, Gobber.” With a sigh, the lad removed his shirt, letting his godfather see the Night Fury on his arm and the Nadder proudly inked on his chest. “B-but that doesn’t matter, because I’m asking Dad to write up a contract tonight.”

Gobber’s mouth dropped open, Hiccup was asking for Astrid’s hand? “Well why didn’t ye say so?” The one-legged viking strode forward, crushing Hiccup’s lanky form in a bear hug. “Odin’s beard, it took ye long enough. I’ll admit, I almost lost hope, but ye got there in the end, an’ that’s what matters.” Finally releasing the boy he bent down to get a better look at the markings. “That’s some good work there lad. What did she say when she saw that’ ‘ey?”

Gasping to fill his lungs with air after his Godfather’s crushing hug, Hiccup panted out a laugh. “She loved it. Actually she uh- she kissed it.” Cheeks flushed bright red as he remembered the way she’d spent that night letting him know how much she loved it. Hel, his lips were still burning from her kisses, and it just made him long for her even more. “I love her Gobber, and better yet, she loves me. Thor, what are the odds of that happening, huh?”

The canny old blacksmith roared with laughter. “Lad, ye weren’ subtle. Anyone wit’ eyes could tell ye loved ‘er.” The groan that left the love-struck boy just made Gobber laugh even harder. “And e’er since ye brought that dragon o’ yer’s around, anyone could see she was jus’ as head o’er heels fer ye. Ye two were jus’ too oblivious ta notice.” Intelligent Hiccup certainly was, observant, not so much. Gobber loved the boy like a son and he was ecstatic that he’d finally managed to woo the woman of his dreams. “Now put yer bloody shirt on an’ go get that contract. I wan’ godbabies ta spoil!”

Nodding his head, Hiccup grabbed his shirt and tugged it over his head. Taking a moment to make sure he didn’t look as if he’d had a roll in the hay before heading for the door. “Oh, an’ Hiccup.” Gobber’s voice stopped the lad, turning to face the blond viking. “Do ye think ye could do one o’ those markin’s fer me?”

A bright grin crept onto Hiccup’s face. “I’m sure I could come up with something for you. How about tomorrow afternoon, after you close the forge?” Gobber nodded his agreement and Hiccup turned, racing for Haddock Hall. It was time to talk to his father about making his intentions towards Astrid official.

As promised, the moment the forge closed Hiccup set up his workbench to do a marking for Gobber. The older blacksmith loved the design Hiccup had come up with for him. It was based on the viking symbol for a blacksmith but with dragons curled around it. Taking one bulging bicep in hand, Hiccup began to sketch out the design in charcoal.

“Hey Babe.” Astrid greeted, kissing Hiccup’s cheek while setting a plate of food down beside him as well as a pitcher of water. Hiccup wasn’t much of a drinker, especially when he was working. “I figured I better grab you something before all the good stuff was taken.” A much larger plate of food and a large tankard of mead was set beside Gobber, much to the blacksmith’s enthusiasm.

“If ye hadn’ already asked fer her hand, I’d tell ye to marry ‘er.” Gobber grinned widely at the lass, watching as she pulled up a chair beside Hiccup, taking the cloth to blot the design while Hiccup worked. “An’ congratulations on finally pinnin’ the lad down an’ forcin’ him ta make an honest woman o’ ye. Don’ gimme that look, we both know she made the first move.” Gobber directed the last comment to Hiccup, his stare daring the lad to say otherwise.

Astrid chuckled, history would dictate that she made the first move, and she guessed technically she had by asking Hiccup to mark her, but she had to give him credit for actually making a move this time. “Actually, Hiccup kissed me first.” Astrid replied, earning her a pair of raised eyebrows from Gobber, the bushy blond caterpillars threatening to disappear up into his helmet. “Technically I was asleep for the first one, but he claimed the second one too.”

“Thank you, Milady.” Hiccup’s dry wit rolling off his tongue as he leaned over to claim a quick kiss. “For defending my honour and virtue as a man.” Taking a quick bite of his dinner he returned to his work, thoroughly enjoying the playfulness of their newly found relationship. Had he known his bond with Astrid would only become deeper and more honest, he would’ve bared his soul to her ages ago.

Rolling her eyes at his sarcasm Astrid took a sip from Hiccup’s cup. “So I shouldn’t tell him about how you professed your undying love to me then?” Hiccup’s head snapped to face Astrid, green eyes wide as he gaped at the girl while muttering a ‘Thor no!’. An act that only seemed to embolden the girl.

“Oh Odin, now that’s a story I need ta hear.” Gobber crowed with glee. Ripping off a giant mouthful of roast chicken he stared at Astrid with eager eyes. He was an old romantic at heart, especially when it came to his godson, and he wanted to know what Hiccup said to make the young Valkyrie swoon.

The next day word had gotten around, Gobber no doubt boasting about the new ink resting under the bandage wrapped around his massive arm. Snotlout had been the first to approach Hiccup, his cousin demanding a Monstrous Nightmare all over his back. Right up until Hiccup showed him a needle, then the boy had muttered something about being needed for chores before scurrying off.

Fishlegs had been next, the husky lad stammering out a polite request for a Gronkle. Smiling, Hiccup had nodded his head to the workbench now set up for Hiccup to ink his fellow vikings. The young rider was actually becoming quite good with a needle, and his penmanship was exemplary. Passing Fishlegs a roll of bandage he instructed the larger boy to have Meatlug lick it twice a day and then redress the mark until it felt better.

A couple of other vikings were waiting for Hiccup to mark them, among them Gothi, the Village Elder. Gobber peered over to translate the old woman’s scratchings before Hiccup kindly inked the symbol of a healer into the woman. Gothi’s toothy grin at his work was more than enough for Hiccup as he asked Toothless for a drop of saliva before dressing the site and helping Gothi up.

Hiccup was actually doing quite well with the marking, every viking who had requested one had left a few coins behind as a thank you. The whole endeavor was really starting to make Hiccup smile, to know that so many vikings wanted his art on their bodies. His good mood lasted right until Ruffnut sat down and indicated exactly where she wanted her marking to be situated.

The young rider stared at her, eyes wide in horror as she indicated an area he would only ever consider inking for his wife. “No!” Hiccup stood up, his arm pointing towards the door, requesting she leave immediately. “That’s it! No more markings! For ANYONE! I’m done!” Packing up his tools and his ink, Hiccup grabbed his sketchbook and left not stopping until he was in Toothless’ saddle and high up in the sky.

Slipping into his Haddock Hall, Hiccup started at the sight of his father’s gaze waiting for him. “I heard you refused to do any more markings for people. Left a lot of vikings quite upset.” Hiccup’s head fell, the last thing he needed was his father’s disapproval, yet somehow he’d found it.

“Ruffnut wanted one...down there.” Hiccup grumbled, slumping down onto the chair across from his father, noting the plate of food set aside for his arrival. “I just couldn’t do it, Dad. The only person I want to see down there is Astrid.” With a groan the boy dropped forward onto the table, face pressed into the timber.

Stoick’s eye crinkled with mirth as he stared down at his son, finally letting out a hearty chuckle. “Aye, which is a good thing. Shows character. It’s also one of the reasons her father was so eager to sign your contract.” The vast Chief smiled as his son’s head lifted, eyes wide with hope as Stoick placed the signed document on the table between them. “As of this mornin’, Astrid is your betrothed and Ah’ve already paid her bride price.”

This was better than anything Hiccup could’ve hoped for. His father wasn’t mad at him, actually he seemed proud, and he was officially betrothed to the girl of his dreams. “Dad, thank you. This- this is everything I ever wanted.” Finally sitting up, Hiccup slid his meal over and began to eat. He’d missed dinners with his dad.

The Chief smiled down at his son, grateful Hiccup had finally gotten everything Stoick had wanted for him. Seeing his son happy and with a woman he loved, who loved him back, what more could a father want for his child? And seeing the man that Hiccup had become, he couldn’t be prouder of the man who would eventually succeed him. “So, would you reconsider your decision about markings for your Chief?”

Wide green eyes stared at his father, did he really just ask for a marking? “For my Chief, no.” Hiccup replied, a soft smile covering his face as he glanced at the mountain of a man. “For my Dad, always.”

A loud guffaw filled the room, a wide, toothy smile on the Chief’s face. “You can tell me all about your betrothed while ye do it. I want ta hear all about yer grand proposal, how did ye win yer Lady Fair?” Stoick’s beaming face looked down upon his son before opening his vest in preparation. “I-I want something ta help me remember yer mother. Put her close ta my heart.” A large, stubby finger tapped his chest, indicating the spot he wanted.

Hiccup thought about the Nadder covering his own chest. “I know what you mean.” Grabbing his charcoal, he began to sketch out a design. This was for both of them, and he was going to make it something his mother would be proud of when she met them on the fields of Valhalla.

#awreckageofstars #part 2

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warmau · 6 years

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I'm so impressed with how quickly you make posts, you're amazing

thank you!! ive been thinking about sci-fi concepts so here’s some mini aus for nct u!! because i miss ‘em ;;note: the ideas here are my original creation, but if you would like to use them feel free to do so with proper credit

Taeyong

a bio-hacker, mainly interested in uncovering governmental projects about the rumor of genetically modified human

never leave his house,,,,,,,,like ever

trusts only one person, a disgruntled civil servant by the name of doyoung who sometimes leaks him info but is also responsible for keeping taeyong alive,,,,,,,

he has a paranoia about eating anything that isn’t,,,,,like,,,,organically grown because he’s sure gmo food brainwashes you

doyoung: it’s just an apple taeyong

taeyong: an apple,,,,that could kill you

doyoung: you need to go outside

and,,,,,well taeyong’s hacking all leads up to the faithful day of doyoung hurriedly pushing open his door - ignoring taeyong whose eyes are wide with concern

as he lays you down on the sheets of taeyong’s untouched bed (he spends most of his days crouched in front of his laptop - sleeps there too)

“who is this??? why are they here???”

taeyong begins, doyoung hushes him - then points to the barcode on your neck

“they escaped from a lab, i found them wandering in the parking lot and got to them before the guards could.”

taeyong’s anxiety flushes from his face, now it’s excitement - curiosity as he looms over you,,,,,looking closely at the barcode

he mumbles the number, runs back to his computer to see if it matches anything in his notes

“god, i don’t know if they’re ok,,,,,they just fell asleep while i was getting them back here - what are they,,,,,,”

“they’re a human test subject.”

taeyong answers, looking at his bright screen that makes doyoung’s eyes water

“i cross checked the number with what access i have to a couple database and see - “

he taps the portrait of you on the screen, the number written in the profile beside it

“human test subject, scheduled for injections on thursday,,,,,goal is to create a body immune to exposure -”

doyoung’s jaw drops, “holy hell are they trying to turn a human cold blooded?”

taeyong gets up, comes closer to you - still out of it and he apologizes to what seems like the dense air in his small apartment and then touches your skin

“cold.”

doyoung has to leave, being away from work for too long is suspicious and taeyong is left with you

he keeps a distance, but goes to work on opening encrypted files around your case

finally, you come to - sitting up slowly to see that you’re not in your lab - you’re in a dark, small room

a boy, with combed back green hair sits in the corner beside a flashing screen, when he turns to you his handsome, but deeply dark eyes settle on you

“should i call you by your name or by your number?”

is his first questions and you blink,,,,for a moment you silently stare back at him

“number, don’t remember,,,,,,,,,,my name”

tayong feels something surge inside his chest - something he hasn’t felt in a long time,,,,,,an anger,,,,,but not the usual anger,,,,an anger with an almost protective tone underlining it

because for the first time he’s not speculating, snooping through things on the internet

his proof is right in front of him - your tattered grey hospital gown, your barcode, your voice that shakes in instinctive fear

he feels it almost slip from his lips, the number on your skin, but he only pulls up your profile again and shows it t oyou

says your name,,,,waits for you to repeat it

“remember it, ill make sure you never get called by a number again.”

Taeil [tw: body mod]

an aloof professor of alien languages, he never shows his face and wears a mask that always covers his nose and mouth

when he teaches, he has a microphone in the mask which allows him to not take it off

everyone loooooooves making rumors up about what he’s hiding - most people think it’s a mutation or some kind of battle scar

but taeil never let’s anyone near enough to know

and when people, even other professors, ask him about it he just laughs into the microphone and goes “you know, i don’t know. but what i do know is it’s super hard to drink coffee like this.”

his office is so messy,,,,and he has all these weird trinkets from alien planets and photos of him in worlds that look nothing like yours

and you,,,,,,have a total crush on him

but as the university’s nurse you barely ever see him - unless he drops by for pain killers or has to come by to sign a student’s late note

but there is something so!!!! fascinating about him, because despite only seeing his eyes

which always seem sleepy and non-alert,,,,,,,he’s so freaking smart

he speaks so many languages, communicating with alien students and administration - he knows heaps about the history of other planets and has stories from the far end of the galaxy every which way

when you see him, you clutch your notepad to your chest - hearts probably floating above your head

everyone knows about your crush

everyone, but taeil

who one afternoon comes strolling into the nurses office

you’re the only one on duty and seeing his lean figure, a long jacket thrown over his shoulders making him look more like a scientist than an alien linguist

he walks right up to the bed and you’re about to ask if something is wrong, when he lets out a loud loud cough

and falls face first onto the bed

you run over, asking in shock if he’s ok - if he can respond

turning his head slowly, taeil’s eyes look at you - empty

and then he pulls at his mask, slipping it off his face to reveal his nose and mouth

perfectly human,,,,perfectly handsome

and then he opens his mouth and his tongue - well,,,,tongues,,,,two of them are obviously infected with something

you run over to your cupboard, searching for anything that you’ve used for those kind of infections before finding what you need

taeil sits up, watching your frantic search

and when you return, pills in your hand and water in another

taeil smiles slightly, takes them and then reaches to feel around for his mask

before he puts it on, he stops and sees you still looking at him

“professor moon, maybe you should cancel your classes? infected tongue,,,,tongues make it hard to speak,,,”

he blinks, lazy smile back on his face

“you’re right,,,,,,,,,,,,,are you not scared of it?”

“y-your ,,, tongues?”

he nods, slipping his mask on and you shake your head

“no, not at all. is that why you h,,,hide them?”

taeil shrugs, standing up as your eyes stay glued to his

he reaches out, ruffling your hair as if you’re not an adult too and then he turns to float out of the room

a couple of days later you find a note in the office, in the characteristic mindless scribble of taeil’s writing

“if you would like, i would love to take you out. ill even take off the mask. (i can’t kiss with it on afterall)”

Mark

a really cute and excited vet apprentice,,,,,,,,,,,,for dinosaurs !!!!!

favorite kinda dino??? brachiosaurus - chill, big, eats like 500 pounds of grass all day - mark always jokes that they’re living THE life

“you wanna eat 500 pounds of grass all day?”

mark: no. i wanna eat 500 pounds of ice cream though

he works under xiumin, whose the only dino-veterinarian in their country and who honestly,,,,,,mark idolizes

like most people are frightened to death of dinosaurs if for their huge size or menacing appearance, but xiumin treats them like big puppies

petting their noses and giving them nicknames, mark thinks it’s so cool how easily he gets along with arguably,,,,,,,,,the only species of animal capable of putting an end to humans LOL

mark’s picked up xiumin’s mannerism though, he has a special cute bond with a baby brachiosaurus who he calls “palm” (because he loves eating palm leaves the most,,,,,,,)

all of his friends don’t get how he does his job - he’s like an ant to a dinosaur it could cruSH him

mark actively petting an animal that’s like a hundred times his size “they’re,,,,,,,,,,,cute”

you’re also an intern, but to a researcher who has been studying dinosaur breeding

so you’re always around xiumin and mark,,,,,and when xiumin and your mentor get into conversations - they go on for a while

so you and mark also talk,,,,,,a lot of the time about how hard work is but how fun it is too

mark has told you so many dinosaur facts you can’t keep track and you show him photos you’ve taken of other ones that you and your researcher have come across

and although you work closely around dinosaurs,,,,,you’ve never touched one

which shocks mark when you tell him because he’s like !!! you gotta try it - their skin is so unique and feels really cool

and when your mentors are least looking, he sneaks you away and toward the pen where “palm” is

his mother is grazing nearby, she’s used to mark so she makes no alerted movements when he approaches

palm on the other hand rushes over on his big, stumbly legs and you’re like “he-he’s a baby?!?!?!”

because palm is probably over 25 feet

“he’s still pretty young, check it out!!” mark grins, reaching out as palm leans his long long neck down - till it’s nearly at his feet and just in reach of mark to pet his nose

“c’mon, try it~” you urges

and you don’t realize you’re shaking till your taking a step forward and your arm is out

and you touch the nose of the gigantic creature, only to jump back behind mark because it’s just - it’s just so massive,,,how isn’t he scared?!?!?

mark laughs, but it gets stuck in his throat when he sees xiumin standing in the corner - tapping his foot with an amused look

your mentor is there too,,,,,and you and mark freeze up like preschoolers caught red handed from stealing cookies at lunch

“now what do we have here?”

xiumin asks, but there’s playfulness in his tone - your mentor on the other hand is wagging you over with a finger

“you can’t fool around when we’re here to do research-”

he starts, but xiumin gives him a good clap on the back “let the kids go on a date, everyone knows you bring your crush to see dinosaurs!”

you and mark both redden at the mention of the word date, but neither of you quite makes a noise to protest the idea

a couple of minutes after xiumin distracts your mentor with more conversation, you and mark stand in front of each other avoiding eye contact

“i,,,,,,,are you coming back soon?”

he asks, running his hand over the back of his neck, hiding behind the hem of his safari hat - which,,,,,,,,you think is adorable,,,,,,,even though mark’s like it’s part of the uniform here,,,,

you nod, but also hesitate before asking “we,,,,,if you want,,,,,,,should go on a d-,,,,date?” you pose it as a question and mark look bright cherry red but agrees quickly

“i’d like that!”

before you can say anything, palm makes a noise - almost as if to grab your attention away from each other and you and mark both giggle,,,,,,

but you leave with your mentor, smiling at the number on the page in your notebook signed mark lee ,,, a mini scribble of a dinosaur with a heart around it too

Ten

the prince of a small star planet where the species is closely related to humans in appearance

minus the silver markings on their face which they are born with (different for the royals - ten’s markings are gold)

and the ability to communicate through touch rather than words

so the whole planet,,,,,is pretty quiet

ten ,,,,,,, absolutely hates it - this whole lack of sound, of loud and colorful voices,,,,,,,,, whenever he has the chance he talks with locals and other royals

much to the surprise of others, who reach out on instinct to link hands to transmite words

but ten dances around them, his smile big and wide as he asks them how they’re doing outloud

and all the replies are hushed, whispered because no one is used to talking anymore

you’re visiting the star planet on a student visa,,,,mostly to just take in the beautiful sites

and talking,,,through touch has been pretty odd for you - fascinating - but odd,,,,

and you’re on a tour of the royal palace - completely unaware of the fact that the prince is there too

ten’s just managed to get out of some boring, routine meeting and that’s when he hears it - a voice

you accidentally mumble something to yourself about forgetting your hotel key

and ten - seeing you, alone in the grand ballroom, no markings on your face realizes quiclky that you’re human

and he’s before you in a matter of seconds, shocking you and making you take a step back

as he pulls his arm out to shake yours and smile

his dark eyes bore into yours as he introduces himself through touch, but just from the gold accents on his cheekbones and nose you can tell he’s,,,,royal

“i- i - uh-” you start stuttering, clasping your hand over your mouth because right no talking

but ten let’s your hand go and beams, “please, go on. i love to speak outloud.”

you blink back even more shock, “oh,,,,i just - most others usually prefer talking through touch-”

ten waves a hand in front of him, the robe he’s wearing looks expensive and a bit large on him

“im different, i miss sound, i miss voices, i always love a chance to talk with someone verbally.”

nodding, although you’re not sure why you tell him you’re a student from earth

the two of you continue to stroll around the ballroom, ten’s voice is clear and positive the whole time

and when you show him that your phone can actually play music outloud without headphones or the need to touch it to hear the sound

ten nearly jumps up in joy, saying that he must get a phone like that shipped over from earth

it’s enjoyable,,,ten - unlike other royals on star planets who are secretive and traditional,,,,, seems so open - if not for his markings he could fit in on any human college campus

he also makes you blush,,,,when he asks if all humans are cute like you, in apperance and in voice

after a while, a figure appears in the ballroom - it signals silently to ten who frowns at it

“i must go, my parents are looking for me.” he says and the figure raises an eyebrow at the sound of his voice

you nod, thanking him for taking the time to talk to you

you bow,,,,thinking it’s the only thing to do in a situation with a prince but ten asks you to lift your head

and with a cheerful smile goes “tomorrow, are you free? id like to take you out to see the gardens of our palace. i can send someone to pick you up at your hotel it’ll be a,,,,”

he leans forward, fingers cascading over your wrist

the word transmitted through his touch is; date

Jaehyun

a pretty normal athlete, with average grades and good friends

until one night he wakes up, sweating, feeling woozy after taking a pill that his coach said would help him feel “more energized” for the game,,,,,,

at first, he thinks it’s just a side effect of the pill - but then,,,,in the morning at the track meet he’s in,,,,jaehyun runs at a speed he’s never run before

and when he looks over at the runner beside him, and thinks “trip”, it happens

a struck of coincidence, jaehyun is sure

until,,,,,he does it to every other runner and it happens - they all trip

he’s given his medal, everyone cheers for him but jaehyun feels odd,,,,,,

he locks eyes with his coach and thinks, “say you’re proud of me”, and the couch grins

“im proud of you, jaehyun.”

it takes a week or two of tests, small tests and jaehyun realizes that pill gave him the power to control people - to control their actions - to make them do things

and when you, his long time best friend and crush, come jogging toward him on the quad

jaehyun thinks no - you can’t do anything to them. they trust you. don’t control them

but it’s so hard,,,,when he’s looking at you, the person who he finds most beautiful in the world

and he could just think, “kiss me” and you would - you would

but he forces himself to stop

of course, he can’t hide it for too long. there’s a moment where you and jaehyun are studying and you’re so close your knees are touching and jaehyun sees a classmate of yours approaching

the same classmate whose been in love with you for weeks, and jaehyun can sense it - he’s here to pull you away and ask you out

and jaehyun feels horrible, but silently thinks “forget about it. turn around and go away.”

and the boy does,,,,,,,,you don’t even see him - to absorbed in your notes and jaehyun feels a faint smirk come on, but the guilt washes it away

he decides he needs to tell you - to control himself

so you come over and he closes the door and sighs “im going to do something, it’s going to be crazy - but it’s going to explain a lot.”

you watch him, concerned

“walk toward me.” he says and you do, but jaehyun flashes the word stop in his mind and it’s like your limbs are frozen in place

“wh-what’s going on?!?” you panic and jaehyun releases the thought

“i controlled you. i made you stop.”

jaehyun thinks you might storm out, lash out, but you do none of those things instead your first question is

“have you done it to me before, or was this the first time?”

“the first time.”

you sit down and jaehyun isn’t sure what you’re thinking, he can control your mind but he can’t read your thoughts

you ask him more, about when it started and how and jaehyun feels so relieved that he can share it with someone - with you

and you trust him, evident in the way you put your hand on his without him willing it

and then, when it’s just silent you lean over and press your forehead to his

“hey, think of it as a super power. you can mind control people from falling over banana peels or something.”

he laughs, but he’s happy to feel you close

“ill be here for you. you know i will, ill be here for you always.”

and you press your lips against his, unsure at first, but then with a bit of force

jaehyun is startled, but kisses back

it’s your first kiss, and jaehyun’s power has nothing to do with it. it was your decision.

“just promise you won’t use it on me.” you whisper, “i want all of this o be natural.”

jaehyun promises, and he means it, and he’s so happy he forgets he has the power when you crawl into his lap and kiss him again

Doyoung

as mentioned, doyoung is a civil servant in the government

technically he’s got a ‘clerical’ position, paperwork and scheduling but he is also a part of a secret faction in the government dedicated to keeping files on government experiments and classified personal

that’s how he’s able to leak information to taeyong

other than being rather snappy and strict to people who work with him,,,,doyoung is rather funny, in a sarcastic and dry way that gets him favor with higher-ups

he’s never been one to show his true personality around those he works with because he,,,,hates the government

you could call him a spy,,,a mole,,,whatever - but he’s only in cahoots with taeyong, hoping that finally they can bring to light the disgusting things the people in power are up to

but, on surface level to those his colleagues, he’s the same sweater-vest wearing, tea-without-sugar drinking, handsome in a distant way doyoung

is there an affectionate side to him? a need to be close? yes, but it’s hidden under the cover he’s made for himself

that is until,,,you’re hired as his helper

you’re insanely distracting to doyoung, which annoys him at first because he doesn’t understand why he keeps looking at you - needing to know what you’re up to

maybe it’s because,,,,he’s worried you’ll find out about his secret position, see him slip a file into his bag or whatever

but no,,,,,that isn’t it,,,,,,you trust him wholeheartedly - he can see that in the way your eyes gleam pure up at him

no, it’s something else

“you think they’re cute right? the whole office does.”

someone says at lunch and doyoung feels a shiver run down his spine,,,,,,that’s it - he’s distracted because you’re - ,,,,,, cute?

it’s a theory, that proves to be true because suddenly doyoung is hyper aware of how sweet johnny from IT is to you. how interns haechan and renjun are always helping you carry stacks of paper - or whispering jokes to you during break

he’s also aware of how long it’s been since,,,,he’s liked someone. all of it made worse by how much you seem to look up to him, adore him,,,,

one afternoon doyoung is sent to retrieve a package from the classified files room. when he comes upstairs carrying the box his face is twisted

the box belongs to a case on botched laser testing - most of the victims, young undocumented children

he’s thinking to himself a mile a minute about how cruel the government is, how he should share this with taeyong when he can

when he hears your voice

“what is that? should i help you carry it?”

doyoung’s eyes turn wide, he looks up and you’re at the end of the hall

“oh, no. it’s nothing.” his voice falters and he’s worried you’ll see through him - see the beads of sweat on his forehead

but,,,,as usual,,,,you don’t - you smile at him and it makes doyoung feel like his heart is being ripped

“mr. kim,,,” you never call him doyoung, no one but taeyong and the higher ups do, but he sort of wishes you would

“the government is looking out for us, right? they don’t,,,,,,hurt others to do it,,,,right?”

you look at him and doyoung can hear concern ring in your voice

he strains a smile,,,,he wants to tell you the truth because,,,,he cares about you wants to initate you into his world - have a chance to be with you

but he doesn’t want to hurt you

“of course they don’t.”

he pauses, clears his throat

“from now on, please call me doyoung.”

your face brightens and you nod with a blush on your cheeks, doyoung wishes he could save the image of you in his memory forever

what you don’t know,,,,won’t hurt you

1K notes · View notes

xxmadsxoxo · 6 years

Text

How to get on Santa’s nice list.

{Part Three}

Pairing: Buck Barnes x Reader

Pre warning: Fluff, Fluff, and some more fluff

Warnings: Swearing, Bucky, and probably bad punctuation because I’m using my phone.

Summary: you moved in with your best friends apartment around 3 years ago, and found out she has one hot neighbor. Only problem is he is a huge smart mouth, and he always has jokes. Worst thing of all is he is a huge flirt, the boy could make your face warm up with a look. One day he gave you a snarky comment (to no surprise.) but you decided in spirit of the holiday to challenge him. No, smart mouth, or dirty jokes for the rest of November lets see if he can get on Santa’s nice list.

Part 1 is here!

This is for (@lovelynemesis) Sam’s rockin’ around the Christmas tree writing challenge!

I can’t wait for this bet to start, because it will go by quickly. Knowing Bucky, hes never kept things to himself I swear he’s always said what was on his mind. No editing needed. Natasha will be dissapointed because you know I won’t be taking training, and ill just drag Bucky everywhere instead. She’ll have to deal with it though, because if she were to be honest she’d probably say “Better him than me.” She simply hates clubbing with me, never knew why. I’m sure I’ll find out one day.

I woke up 2 hours ago, I’ve been thinking about where I used to be, as to where I am now. I’m so thankful to have Natasha around, living with her has been the best time of my life. You would think I’d be hating how my life used to be, and telling stories that sounded depressing. Ah, but I can’t hate my terrible past because without it I would have never been here. I roll over and look at my phone quickly being slightly blinded by the phone screen, reading 8:34am. I groan and roll out of bed throwing on an old music t-shirt, and walking into the kitchen.

Natasha waves her spatula at me.

“Morning.”

“Good morning, didn’t sleep too well?” She only makes breakfast when she sleeps less.

“Not really, mostly because of the stupid bet you made with Barnes.” She shakes her head as she flips her pancakes.

“Hey! I’m gonna win that bet.”

“I know that’s why I couldn’t sleep.”

I roll my eyes at her and start warming up some water on the stove. Getting out he tea bags, and some sugar.

“do we have any cream?”

“I think in the door.”

I walk over to the fridge and open the left lookin in the door, but no luck. I look in the right one, and there it is right at the top.

“Bingo.”

I make my tea just as I like it, and sit on the couch with a pillow on my lap. Natasha still making her coffee. I turn on the news, and enjoy the moment. Bucky usually stops in around 10 to see what’s up, and hang out for a bit. So girl time like this is valuable. Natasha sits next to me, and sips her coffee.

“So what are your plans for the day?”

“Gonna be going to the stark tower, tony wants to talk about the last mission with everyone separately.”

“Ah, so you’re first?”

“Yup, Rogers will probably be next.”

“Sounds cool. I could never do your job.”

She looks to you with her eyebrows knitted together.

“Sure you could, if you trained.”

I roll my eyes, and chuckle.

“Not gonna happen, I like being lazy. I also love my curves so back off.”

She shakes her head. “Yeah, yeah whatever you say your majesty.” She sips out of her mug once more.

I hear the door open and whip my head around to see who’s coming in, of course Barnes would ruin pj morning time.

“You guys have cream? I’m out.”

“I used the last for my tea.”

He closes the door and looks in your fridge not believing you. I drink the last of my tea, and smile to myself. He slams the fridge door, and sighs.

“Why would you use creamer for tea!?”

“Because, it’s good that way.”

He stomps like a big kid and stands behind you.

“Are you not wearing shorts?”

“Nope.”

“Why not?”

“Because I just woke up, and you usually don’t show up till ten.”

I hear him shift his feet, and smile looking down at my empty mug.

“Why don’t you just give me the full show now and lose the band shirt princess?”

I stand up and turn on my heals smiling.

“Win the bet first Barnes.”

I set my mug in the sink, and walk into my room. Need a moment to breathe.

12:00pm. Quickly changing into my outfit for the day, looking in the mirror making sure it looks okay. All black has always fit me best. Running out my room, and out the front door.

I walk into buckys apartment as I yell:

“Bucky do you wanna come Christmas shopping with me?”

I hear him walking down the hall from his room, and I see he’s wearing a grey tee, and black sweats. Which is really hot for some reason.

“Uh, Yeah sure let me get ready.“

“Okay. I’ll wait here.”

I grab a an a water bottle out of the fridge and wait for him. He walks out in dark jeans, and a red henely. He could truly look good in anything.

“Where do you wanna go first sugar?”

Damn I should have added no nicknames.

“I was thinking a couple of clothing stores.”

“Alright let’s hit the road.”

After a few minutes we finally got a cab, because walking across the city would be death for me in these heels. Sitting on buckys left side always made him uneasy, afraid he’d hurt me especially knowing I couldn’t stop him if I tried. So he kept shifting in his spot next to me, and I grab his metal hand and hold it. He’s wearing gloves to cover it up, so it wasn’t too cold. Before he can argue, the cab driver decides to spark conversation.

“You two got big plans for Christmas?”

“Just gonna hang out really.” I say quickly hoping it shut him up.

“Ah, well stay warm out there you guys.”

I start getting out the cab, and pay the guy. “You too!”

It’s took almost 40 minutes to get here with traffic.

Bucky walks with me into the shop not realizing it’s lingerie, that is until you start picking up colorful lacy panties. He walks up next to me and whispers in my ear. “You should get those for yourself doll, I’d love to see them on you when I win this.” I couldn’t help the shiver that went down my spine, and the sudden wetness in between my legs. I keep my stand strong. “If you win, but keep up your cockiness Barnes.” Pushing him out of the way I put up all of the underwear, and waited for the cashier to scan it all.

__________

4:56pm

“Are you sure you don’t want me to get any of those bags?”

“Bucky I’ve told you 100 times now, I’m not weak.” I say as I struggle to get the key in the door, I thought Natasha was gonna be home in time to have it open. The meeting must be longer than she planned.

“Atleast let me unlock your door.”

I drop the keys and groan. “FINE.” I back up, and he grabs them off the floor unlocking and opening the door quickly. “Thanks.” Closing the door as He sets the keys on the table, and stars taking off his coat. “No problem.” I set everything in my room, and go back to the kitchen to start up some dinner.

_____________

6:00pm

It’s been 30 minutes since the bet started and Barnes hasn’t said one, dirty or sarcastic thing to me. He’s just eating his chicken cassarole, and being nice. He even helped me wrap half the presents I got, by half I mean all of Natasha’s. I got Bucky some things when he wasn’t looking, but they aren’t too big.

“Is the food okay?”

“Oh, it’s great doll thank you.” He’s always been polite, but this feels different. Natasha walks in, and sets her set of keys down, and walks to the dinner table. “Hey Nat, how’d it go?” She rolls her eyes, and slaps a pile of food onto her plate. “Tony never shuts up.” She starts shoveling food into her mouth. “Woah slow down there tiger.” “Shut up Barnes, it’s been a long day and I’m starving.” She pours some water into her cup, and chugs it. “What did you guys do all day?” She asks before shoving more food in her mouth. “I went out and got some Christmas shopping done, Bucky came with.” He smiles, and starts eating again. Natasha swallows quickly before replying. “Anything good?” I look up chewing the rest of what’s in my mouth. “Oh yeah, great deals.”

______________

9:45pm

All of us are on the couch watching some old action movies, and Bucky stands up.

“Alright girls I’m gonna go to bed, see you tomorrow.”

Nat gets up to hug him good night, and I start standing. Next thing I know he’s out the door, no hugs or goodbye for me. Nat looks at you in confusion.

“What the hell was that all about?”

“I have no idea, we got along fine today.”

I sit back on the couch, and feel annoyed.

____

I wake up quickly to the sounds of screams. Realizing I fell asleep on the couch, I stand up and run to Natasha’s room. She’s sound asleep, and I’m extremely confused. I walk back to the kitchen, and get some water thinking maybe I just had a nightmare. I sip the water, and hear a thud, like something slammed the wall. I quickly realize it must be Bucky, I grab my keys and run to his door. Unlocking it as fast as I can, I run in and see an empty living room. I sprint to his room, and see him in his bed throwing himself. He must be having a nightmare. I run to grab Natasha, because she’s the only one who could wake him up and not get killed. She holds buckys arms down, struggling with his metal one. “Bucky it’s okay, wake up it’s just me Nat.” His body jerks up, and he screams again. “Come on Barnes.” I stand by the door worried. Finally he wakes up, and stared at Natasha heavily breathing. “Oh thank god.” He looks straight at me and my heart stops. “What the hell is going on?” Natasha gets up and walks up to me. “You can handle this.” I look at her in fear, and back to Bucky. She walks out, and I walk up to his bed. “I’m sorry buck, I heard you screaming and wanted to make sure you were okay.” He scoffs “What were you gonna do If I were in trouble? Nothing because you can’t fight, even if you tried.” I look down and try to speak, but suddenly my throat is dry. I have nothing to say because he’s right. “Go to bed.”

“I’m sorry.” I truly meant it, but he probably doesn’t care. I walk back to my room, and lay in bed. Staying up thinking about Bucky, and his night terrors.

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Hey you guys! I hope you liked this one, I know November is basically over but let’s just pretend there’s still 6 days left. 😅 Also what are your thoughts, is it bad is it good? Let me know, and if you wanna be tagged just ask!

Tags: @boyzines @ailynalonso15 @starkxpotts @libbymouse

#bucky x reader #samsrockinwritingchallenge #bucky fluff #bucky barnes #natasha romanoff #christmas themed #fluffy #fluff #nightmares

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