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joshuaalbert · 2 years

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very late but. wesley :]

favorite thing about them

as will be a constant refrain throughout this post I have said this before but I have an overactive older sibling instinct so the most important thing here is that he is a little guy doing his best. in terms of actual traits, ik some people find him bratty but that’s always confused me bc like over and over again he goes out of his way to help people. like the whole b plot of icarus agenda stands out as being real endearing and yeah it’s goody two shoes characterization whatever but it is my god given right to appreciate some kindness in a character. it’s a harsh world yknow? but conversely i also like when he’s a bitch bc i think it’s funny.

i just. also. this requires giving credit to r*n m**re whose heart i would eat in the marketplace etc etc but the first duty is so fucking episode and the progression to journey’s end conceptually is really fascinating. execution of journey’s end? needs improvement. but the idea is SO. it’s so. like yes there are really interesting undertones to wesley’s character present in seasons 1-4 but i think a lot of them are far more meaningful when you return to them after the late season episodes. like. there’s a reason i think about the first duty-lower decks-journey’s end arc all the fucking time.

hang on this got long as shit so im gonna hit this with a read more before we continue on

least favorite thing about them

from a writing perspective they fucked up by not letting him make any significant mistakes pre first duty which is part of why first duty is so good. like that’s just not...how making a character works. i personally think it would’ve been good to have him fail the psych test the first time because there would be a lot to work with there but in s1 that just wasn’t the show they were making. from like a personality perspective. i mean i cant blame him for being the most repressed bitch alive in several key ways but please go to therapy.

brOTP

ok i gotta use this opportunity to get this off my chest (again. because i think this was in my post first duty rant somewhere on my other blog that i gotta find again) but like it’s so weird when the show tries to convince us he has meaningful friendships with kids his own age on the enterprise because like. he definitely doesn’t. his friends each show up for like one episode either for a plot point or literally just to prove to his mom or whoever that he has friends but he spends all his free time either alone or with the senior officers. he does not have friends his own age and i think that very much plays into his dynamic with the squadron later. that said i do think his dynamic with riker is fun and i also love writing his friendship with jaxa now that i’ve nailed down a vibe that was kind of eluding me lmao.

OTP

#cralbertgang but like. do i trust anyone else with it? outside of the little universe i have constructed? unsure. i just know that i watched first duty and was like hey man it’s kinda gay to forget your sweater on a ski trip with the kid whose entire civilian wardrobe is weird sweaters and then to keep it for a month after and while that is by no means the point of the episode, it was an interesting little side thing to ponder. in canon i don’t think it would have been a mutual thing but it’s interesting to explore out of canon. it’s also. like. as stated above none of wesley’s earlier friendships are that convincing so it’s wild that they did actually successfully imply this friendship with like four lines let alone set up the potential for anything else.

nOTP

i mean. wesley x literally any of the adult main characters but i feel like the one ive run into the most is wesley x riker which is like an incredible misreading of their dynamic to me and also like. even if it’s after wesley turns 18 it implies that riker was Waiting For Him To Turn 18 which is. uh. uhhh. don’t like that! and like ik it’s not 1:1 writing a fic about something equals glorification of that thing, i understand that sometimes people want to explore a dynamic Because there’s something wrong with it that they want to examine, but a lot of times with this specifically im like oh you wanted to ship two white guys and picard was too bald for you.

random headcanon

man i gotta stop posting every thought i have the moment it comes into my head bc now im like uhh what haven’t i already said. ive already said that half his classmates definitely think he’s dead post journey’s end. i think he likes the idea of marriage because he only got to see it very briefly with his own parents but this is another concept that’s idealized to him, and whether or not he ever manages it himself is up to your personal perception of postcanon. i think he’s bad at poker because he has not accepted his queerness but the correlation there is just that that happened to younger me. i think he talks in his sleep.

unpopular opinion

yeah like both of us have said he is not a funny gen z meme kid. and like a certain percentage of content for any character is gonna be. incorrect quotes style content? of like VERY loose very exaggerated characterization but i feel like for him that’s kind of all you get. admittedly i don’t check tags and shit that often im kind of just vibing but it doesn’t seem like there’s a lot of engagement with the actual character. this isn’t really an unpopular opinion ive just kind of gone off the rails. whatever.

OH wait okay i thought of something but but a bunch of the youtube comments for the nemesis deleted scene are about how like it wasn’t canon compliant that he would come back for the wedding or be back in starfleet temporarily or whatever and i have beef with that bc im like. dude maybe he just missed his friends and family and wanted to hang out with them for a while. let him chill.

song i associate with them

this is really just me consolidating every post i’ve ever made about him huh. but like kiss off by violent femmes IS the post first duty-pre journey’s end wesley song to me. just like. everything adding up over time until you’re miserable and it feels like the universe is against you and you start lashing out as a result. like it’s a depressing association but i heard it for the first time in years like a month ago and was like holy shit. wesley song.

favorite picture of them

i have a fondness for top 1 photo of wesley crusher that could also be a photo of gordie lachance

#this took so long because i am. insane.#i love to say so many words #ask game #wesley crusher #ty!!

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kneworder · 4 years

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someone said that luther and diego have opposite himbo energies this season which got me to making this

plus ben

i will not be taking criticism at this time

#umbrella academy #tua #tua 2 #umbrella academy season 2 #luther hargreeves #diego hargreeves #allison hargreeves #klaus hargreeves #number five #ben hargreeves #vanya hargreeves #ive literally tried to post this four times please please work #also luther is pure himbo season 2 only #shoutout to luther for actually learning a thing or two this season #went from self absorbed baby man to learning from his mistakes baby man

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luminous-shifting-vibes · 3 years

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actual fucking quotes from the shiftblr coffeehouse discord server

out of context of course, what do you take me for? a sane person?

"they made lightning mcqueen hot"

"inch resting"

"Nix: Cars (2006) several people are typing..."

"im evaporating"

"enjoy precipitation"

"tow mater is more attractive than lightning mcqueen/hj"

"lightning mcqueen looks like he would call me a slur"

"why did I come back to a discussion regarding the attractiveness of vehicles"

"lark is the braincell of shiftblr tbh"

"you all need some grass in your life"

"me over here simping for block men and now literal cars"

"didn't nick wilde commit fraud canonically"

"i have no strong opinions on whether or not nick wilde is attractive"

"I AM AROMANTIC AND I AM NOT IMMUNE TO NICK WILDE"

"I am bisexual and I. Am not into Nick Wilde based on a simple fact he looks like he will drink all my pepsi and call me names"

"What is shiftbkr but not a bunch of simps"

"cries in Bianca Monroe"

"listen i have a folder called gayass

it is mostly pictures of kyoka jiro and virgil sanders"

"Nick Wilde x Reader where he steals your car 📷 carjacker to lovers AU 📷"

"he says "mama i like to step on keyboard""

"MY MOM JUST WALKED IN AND I HAD TO TELL HER I WAS LOOKING AT LIGHTING MC QUEEN HUMAN FANART"

"crab walks away"

""Y/N..." Nick whispered into your ear. "Your car...is a Honda Civic, right?" You looked up at Nick with a baffled expression. "Nick, my beloved? Whatever are you talking about?" "Just asking..." He said as he let you out of his embrace. "Hey, wanna see a magic trick, babe?" Your eyes sparkled. "Really, Nick? Of course!" Nick smiled. "Ok, close your eyes!" You giggled and closed your eyes, waiting for Nick to tell you to open up. Instead, you heard the loud rumble of a car starting up, and you open your eyes. Nick has stolen your car, and he has driven off into the sunset..."

"did y'all know his name used to be canonically Montgomery--he changed it to lightning mcqueen to get rid of his past"

"That is my exit number"

"cars trauma arc"

"wait do y'all know about car jesus" "as if jesus wasn't a ford focus in the bible"

"oh yall do not want to know about the trauma in my cars dr lmao"

"Dewit tau style babey make Lightning McQueen outlive everyone and stalk their reincarnations"

"Do they baptize other cars in like gasoline then"

"there is a pope car in the cars universe which means car jesus died for cars sins"

"NOT THE BOOMER MEMES"

"-lays facedown on the floor while caramelldansen plays-"

"like im serious how many of you guys endorse me falling face down on my floor" (NOT THE SAME PERSON AS PREVIOUS QUOTE)

"I will be Tall and no one can stop me"

"is a soft floor?"

"stop I thought faceplant meant like a succulent in the shape of a face instead of falling onto your noggin for a solid 10 seconds"

"Touch some grass??? What about eating grass"

"what if for every employee of the month i just printed out really horrible boomer memes"

"what ab smoking grass /j"

"Can the grassdirt smoothie be a special in the cafe"

"PLEASE IM ROLLING ON THE FLOOR REWRITINH THE DECLARATION OF INDEPENDENCE WHIKE SPEEDRUNINT MINECRAFT"

"you have to get good dirt from like the middle of a pennsylvanian forest for it to taste good though"

"I ate a four leaf clover as a kid cause i thought it would make me lucky"

"guys how do i see the mee6 leaderboard"

"I used to think i was half dragon and I ate plants out of sidewalk cracks"

"i think i punched someone"

"my parents told me to stop doing that so I looked at them and ate a flower"

"I ate grass when I was 9 bc I read warrior cats and thought I was a medicine cat ....................."

"bees are just spicy flies"

"I had a mental breakdown when I was three cause I didn’t know how to turn off a phone"

"My mom drank a bee once"

"when I was a baby I kinned ink sans."

"bro who here find the yellow hat man from curious george fine as heck 📷📷📷"

"mY LUNGSSSSSS"

"no one topping Him"

"I like em big"

"I think Moto Moto has no game like move over hunky boy I could beat you 1v1 Roblox Arsenal 📷📷📷"

"If you didnt have a crush on springtrap, jeff the killer, or Underfell/Gaster/Error sans don't talk to me /j"

"LOOK THEY'RE BOTH DILFS WITH ABS THAT WOULD FIGHT GOD"

"ZORO IS BANNED"

"Guys please help I found my old fnaf fanart from when I was 8 I'm in literal tears"

"OH NO BOT MY FIFTH GRADE HAMILTON PHASE"

"The worst attraction ive ever had has to be Sombra Overwatch"

"My family is like "save all ur art so I can sell it when you're famous" I literally could not sell this if I tried"

"screaming puppet"

"I just remembered Ive drawn overwatch/hamilton crossover fanart"

"my hermit crabs ate each other again"

"we're cannibals ????"

"having me here is a curse you have inflicted on yourselves and I for one am glad for it <3" "scitters around like a crab in anticipation"

"CARB DAY"

"WE NEED TO HAVE A WATCH OARTY"

"hey y'all ill be right back i have to throw away a crab carcass"

"if I watch cars I'm going to start laughing in the middle of it nonstop just because the word cars is funny and also cars are funny like how do you move silly little metal box with rubber circles"

"Lark asleep post catboy pitbul"

"Mwista Wowldwide! Nya!" "hermit crab 2: electric boogaloo"

"Is that why your name is chaos"

"manifest the crab power!!"

"cool dex fact: i can't read 📷"

"sighs adds to worship these entities list"

"with a knife <3"

"yeah and if he betrays me I could probably throw him across the atlantic ocean"

"give me his eyes"

"my good citizen i am a- wait no im nonbinary nvm"

"it worked on a fish idk what to tell you"

"what is gender??? Is that a board game?? If so can I be apples to apples that one's my favorite"

"CHUTES AND LADDERS"

"anyways actually my gender is Candyland"

"Oh god romes the destroyer of friendships/j"

"i am a simple gay i see math i run in the opposite direction survival instincts 101"

"math my beloathed"

"algebra makes me want to rip open a bag of swedish fish and swallow them whole"

"cackles in they're au characters and this will be very fun"

"pog !!!! me too ksajgks one of my drs is a sanders sides au"

"Is that bipper"

"tumblr sexyman"

"Good because he’ll fuck u up if u hurt a child"

"I want a wing-suit"

"looks like a bean would poison someone"

"my hermit crabs are cannibals what can i say"

"sonic the hedgehog kinnie"

"get yourself a man who is capable of the most ungodly actions but won't do them because of their morality owo"

"tell him he can steal my wallet"

"eyes"

"idk about y'all but I need blueberry sweet tea to live"

"y'know the red souls from soul eater i really want to eat those"

"but like only respectable crimes like stealing from elon musk"

"You can go cultbashing with he!"

"He acts like a flamboyant gay man, but if a flamboyant gay man was straight."

"Simp Satan 📷"

"definitely arson"

"They look like they enjoy lemon squares and other lemon desserts"

"Satan is all-powerful but he spends most of his time building honeymoon locations because he is convinced that the protag loves him"

"bc shes the reincarnation of his dead wife or something i guess"

annd here's a quote from our very own dream (@shiftingwastaken) that sums this post up:

"shiftblr but context makes it worse"

#not shifting #shitpost #out of context #tw cannibalism #tw stealing #tw poison #tw swearing #tw: drugs #tw: smoking #tw: death

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virgojeons · 4 years

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true love (jjk)

summary: you and jungkook spend your first christmas together.

alternatively, a merry love story based on the lyrics of true love by ariana grande.

genre: fluff, humor, college au, established relationship, holiday series, jeon jungkook x reader

word count: 4.6k

warnings: cursing, implied sexual content, excessive use of pet names

wattpad version here, ao3 version here

a/n: well, here i am!! pls be gentle with me, this is the first time ive ever posted my writing on here and ive been debating it for months lmao. i truly truly hope u enjoy!!

on the first day of christmas when you gave me all them kisses, boy you showed me things, come hold me please and never let me go.

"Five days until Christmas and you're still decorating the tree?"

You yelped at the sudden sound of your boyfriend's voice, dropping your over-accessorized ornament and watching helplessly as it shattered against the floor.

Immediately, you whined. "Jungkook!"

Jungkook suppressed a grin at the furrow of your eyebrows and the pout of your lips, kicking his shoes off and tossing his coat onto the couch. He didn't mean to scare you, really. You even knew he was coming over. It's just that you left the front door unlocked (as you always did when he was on his way, despite him constantly scolding you for it) and there was no way you would've heard him come in over the sound of Jingle Bell Rock blaring through the house.

"Sorry, baby," He chuckled, bending down beside you to help pick up the remnants of your best ornament. "I didn't mean to scare you."

You glared at him in between collecting the shards of glass in your hand. "I spent hours making that."

"Oh yeah?"

"Yeah. Hot glue gun burns, sparkles stuck on my face and everything."

Jungkook took the pieces of glass from you with an amused look on his face, standing from his kneeling position to toss them in the trash can you had earlier moved to the living room for easy access. "I'm sorry. I'll make you another one."

"It's not the same." You sulked, finding fun in being stubborn and giving him a hard time. It was getting increasingly difficult though, with his rosy nose and ears and that little gleam in his eyes.

It was then that he made his first move of the night, tugging you by your oversized Rudolph sweater so quickly that you had to latch onto his shoulders for leverage with a squeal. His grin only seemed to grow once you were officially in his space, taking notice of your lack of pants and the snowflake stockings that appeared to be in their place instead.

"You don't look too sorry," You chuckled, heart stuttering at the way he was gazing down at you in such close proximity.

Jungkook shrugged, nudging his nose with yours. "I'm just happy."

They were such simple words, but it was the way he said them, the way he looked at you when he said them. You couldn’t lie, the excitement of spending your first Christmas together, completely alone, was incredibly infectious. It was gross and it was corny and everything else you swore you would never be, but you were in love with Jungkook. Devastatingly so. You from nine months ago probably wouldn’t even recognize the present you; a fact that friends, family, and even Jungkook alike loved to tease you about. Cracking the so-called ice queen was a feat to be celebrated, apparently. Whatever. He was yours and you were his so you didn’t quite care about the technicalities of it. Even if the story went a bit differently, in your opinion.

The brutal snow and temperatures of February were beginning to fade into spring when you met Jungkook.

You and Jimin had been attempting to finish your economics homework together in your favorite coffee shop; a hidden treasure that was a ten minute walk from campus and ticked all your aesthetic boxes. You two were sipping from your respective hot drinks, neglecting your heaps of bookwork in favor of discussing the new season of Stranger Things. Jimin was deep into his theory of Hopper still being alive when his eyes flickered to the door at the sound of the bell, widening slightly in recognition before a bright smile took over his face.

"Jungkook!" Jimin called, waving whoever it was over.

You followed his gaze and turned your head in the direction of the entrance, growing curious when the boy walking towards your table wasn't familiar to you. It took you less than five seconds to realize that the boy in question was attractive.

Like, extremely attractive. The kind of attractive that should not be subjected to the way you look right now.

It took you even less time to whip your head back around, glaring at Jimin with wide eyes and a panicked expression.

He met your glare with a confused scrunch of his eyebrows before it slowly transformed into a smirk, quickly catching on to what your pointed look was for. The night before had been a late one. You, like any other normal millennial, had impulse bought a pretty yellow Nintendo Switch solely for the new Animal Crossing game. As soon as it arrived on your doorstep you were retreating into your room, tearing the package open with squeals of excitement.

Maybe you completely lost track of time and played until your eyes were bloodshot and you heard birds chirping outside. Maybe you got an astounding two hours of sleep. And maybe you had fallen asleep without setting an alarm and woke up thirty minutes later than usual.

The details were insignificant though, because you were throwing on a pair of leggings and the first sweatshirt you saw, brushing your hair and your teeth, and hastily sprinting to your car all in record time.

No sleep. No makeup. No breakfast. And worst of all, no coffee.

And so, it was blatantly clear you had no desire to let a boy that beautiful even glance at you in that state, let alone introduce himself. But it didn't look like you had a choice in the matter, because moments later he was towering over your table with a stupidly handsome smile.

Jungkook grinned, reaching out to do that Weird Bro Handshake with Jimin. "Hey, Chim."

You were already plotting various methods of painful revenge in your head.

"Hey, Kook. What are you doing here?"

"I kind of work here," He chuckled. "Well, as of like, yesterday. Today's my first day."

"Oh, so this is the new job you were telling me about," Jimin nodded in realization, then his eyes flickered mischievously to yours. You’re rapidly shaking your head. "You know, this is my friend ___'s favorite coffee spot."

A scowl immediately takes over your face, only to be wiped off and replaced by a sickeningly sweet smile when Jungkook turns his head to look your way. The instant your eyes meet his you quite literally want to melt into the floor.

Jungkook smiles at you. Like, really smiles. "Hey, that's cool. We'll probably be seeing a lot of each other then, right?"

Across the table, Jimin snorts, which only adds to the way your cheeks are absolutely flaming. You send a harsh kick to Jimin's leg as inconspicuously as you can, all while batting your eyelashes at Jungkook.

"Uh, yeah! We probably... will."

Jungkook looks positively amused, but if he notices Jimin rushing to clutch his leg, he doesn't say anything.

"Sweet," He grins again. There's a brief few seconds where you two are just gazing at each other, stupid and shy, until Jimin loudly clears his throat. "Right, well, I should probably go clock in. Let's chill sometime this week, Chim."

"Sure thing." Jimin sings, smugness plastered all over his face.

Jungkook waves, already backing away from the table with his eyes on you. "Nice meeting you."

You feel yourself flush again and you absolutely hate it. "Nice meeting you too."

With a final smile, Jungkook disappears behind the employee doors. The moment he leaves your eyes are screwed shut and you're slamming your head against the table. The silence speaks for itself. You don't even need to see Jimin's face to know that he's either smirking or stifling his laughter.

"Don't." You warn.

"You just blushed," He says anyway. "Like, four times."

"I most definitely did not blush."

"You did. You still are."

"I'm embarrassed!" You wail. "That's literally the only reason why. I look like I got ran over and dragged for three blocks."

"Jungkook sure doesn't seem to think so," Jimin hums, snickering as he sips his coffee.

"Stop."

"He likes you." He insists.

"He was just being polite." You defend.

"That is literally my childhood best friend. I think I would know."

This makes you pause. Then you sigh. "He doesn't even know me."

He doesn’t disagree. But then again, "Not yet."

"Stop trying to play matchmaker, Jimin. He said five words to me," You spoke firmly, exasperated as you downed the final sip of your latte. "Plus, I'm just focusing on me and my degree right now. No distractions."

Jimin knew that you were already worn out, and even though he was mostly joking around, he wouldn’t want to push you any further. He’d drop it.

"Fine. We'll see who's right in the end, though."

For now.

"I will dump that hot coffee over your head."

As it turns out, Jimin was kind of right.

It takes a grand total of four visits to your favorite coffee shop before Jungkook asks you out. The first time you were by yourself, nose buried in a book as Jungkook was clocking in. He wasn't able to speak to you until about an hour later, when the morning rush had passed and you had finally lifted your head from whatever was in that book.

You were honestly dreading facing him again, but you were prepared and actually presentable this time. Also you were kind of starving. And so, you hesitantly approached the counter. Jungkook took your order, both of you all fidgeting hands and sheepish smiles. You mentally patted yourself on the back when you spoke without any real mess-ups, and prayed that the cool girl aura you always tried so desperately to maintain was being transmitted.

Not like you were trying to leave a lasting impression, or anything.

He hand delivered you your coffee and muffin with a beaming grin, all while his new boss glared at him from behind the counter. He didn't have to know that you knew cashiers weren't supposed to serve the food.

The second visit was a few days after. You were with Jimin again, shooting down every jab he made about you only wearing a pretty dress because you knew you would be coming here. Jungkook joined you both during his break. As soon as he untied his apron and sat himself directly across from you, it struck. You knew you were screwed. You just couldn't stop staring at him. The chin in the palm of your hands and sparkles in your eyes type of staring. You would be much more ashamed if you couldn’t see the way he was staring right back. Jimin found this hilarious, of course, and would subtly find ways to connect you two in conversation. You weren't sure if you loved or hated him for it.

It was that visit that Jungkook insisted on sharing his slice of strawberry cake with you, claiming he wasn't that hungry. The both of you were embarrassed, whacking his arm and dismissing him as Jimin complained about being the third wheel. By the end of his break, Jungkook was positively smitten, you were begrudgingly infatuated, and Jimin was awfully smug. He reluctantly said bye to you both, and you were slouching forward with your head in your hands the moment he disappeared from visibility.

Jimin looked extremely pleased. "Believe me now?"

"Focusing on school," You protested. It was a weak one, but. Well.

"Are you trying to convince me or yourself?" He mused.

And suddenly, you were frantic. Panicking. This was definitely not a part of the plan.

Quickly packing up your things, you groaned loudly. "You. Maybe me. Or both. I can't think in this place anymore."

"You'll be all over each other by next week."

"Shh!" You were childishly covering your ears and speed-walking out of the café.

Try as you might, you couldn't help yourself and returned the very next day after all your classes had finished. Jungkook was already there when you walked in, taking a customer's order but doing a double take and flashing you a smile when you appeared in his line of sight. This visit consisted of nothing but pretending.

Pretending to be studying. Pretending you weren't listening to him take orders just to hear his voice. Pretending you weren't sneaking glances at him. Pretending that the way your eyes kept meeting wasn't making your skin prickle. And you were just fine pretending, until suddenly he was in the seat across from with you his apron off and a steaming hot chocolate in hand. You tried your hardest to remain indifferent, you really did. But then he was pushing the beverage towards you with gentle eyes and his smile hopeful, telling you it was his treat because he noticed how hard you were studying. And then you were melting right along with the marshmallows in that mug.

The two of you talked about your majors, your families, your favorite shows, even Jimin. You asked about his tattoos and he explained them with ease. You also may have pulled out one of the oldest tricks in the book at the sight of his knuckle tattoos, gasping in feigned wonder when you pulled his hand against yours to measure the size difference.

His hand could swallow yours whole and still have some leftover, you discovered. It was a very rewarding experiment.

You made each other laugh and blush down to the very last second of his break. Scarily enough, being in each other's presence was so annoyingly addictive that you found yourself hesitant to watch him leave. You could tell Jungkook felt the same by the way he dragged out his goodbyes. I work again on Thursday, maybe I'll see you then? Your fingers brushed as he softly took the mug from you. It was really fun talking to you. You were biting your lip to keep from smiling embarrassingly big. You look really pretty today, by the way. And then he was off.

You made a strangled noise the second you were outside with your fingers frantically beginning to type a message to Jimin.

promise not to say i told you so :///

Jungkook asked you out on your fourth visit. As soon as you approached the counter, he just blurted it out. As if it was something he couldn't hold on his tongue any longer. You couldn't hear yourself say yes over your brain malfunctioning and the powerful thumping of your heart, but you knew you did. His heartbreakingly gorgeous grin told you so.

On his break, Jungkook brought you a latte with a heart carved in the cream. You just couldn't conceal the coo that escaped you, which quickly resulted in his cheeks reddening.

Cute, you thought.

He quizzed you on your personality and the type of activities you liked to do, admitting that he would use the information to conjure up the best date you would ever go on. Six days later, Jungkook stayed true to his word. Not only was it the best date you had ever been on, but you were completely certain it would ruin any other dates for you moving forward, unless they were with him. Much to your annoyance and also utter delight, you were so sure of Jeon Jungkook and your brief but striking time together that you kissed him. Right on the swings of your favorite childhood playground, first date rules tossed aside.

He was so caught off guard that his eyes expanded to twice their normal size and your teeth banged together. You drew back, slightly mortified and ready to jump to your death from the tallest slide on the playground, but Jungkook was huffing a laugh onto your lips and grabbing your face like it was nothing. Then you two got it just right, and something clicked. The earth fell off its axis and you were rendered breathless and all that nauseating cliché shit you chastised as a myth. And from that day forward, you two were completely, tooth-rottingly, inseparable.

"Easy," Jungkook proclaimed, pecking your lips. "We finished the tree."

He set you back on the floor gently, releasing a dramatic breath of air as if lifting you to place the star on top of the tree had actually winded him. As if he wasn't a muscle pig. You rolled your eyes and told him as much.

"Don't be a baby, muscle pig," You shoved at his bicep, only proving your point further when he didn't move an inch. ‘And I finished the tree.”

Instead, he caught the hand that you nudged him with and pulled your back to his chest, caging you between his arms. "Muscle pig, huh? That's what you think of me, baby?"

You flushed at the teasing lilt in his voice, suddenly very eager to escape his hold. But try as you might, he just wouldn't budge. A loud laugh left your throat as you flailed in his grasp, his muscled arms bulging in the turtleneck you bought him for his birthday a few months ago. Suddenly, you decided that you would be returning it for your own personal peace.

A high pitched whine left your mouth, one that lost all its seriousness once it was drowned out by your giggles. "Jungkook, let go of me!"

You would just not stop wiggling, and Jungkook could not stop laughing. He could live the rest of his life like this, his brain pauses to think. He's so happy.

And when you're thrashing so violently that your heel kicks his pocket with a force that has an object clattering onto the floor, Jungkook has never reacted faster in his life. Instantly your imprisonment is gone, and Jungkook is on your floor in a flash. Your eyebrows draw together at the sight of him scrambling for whatever it is, and all you're able to see is a sleek black case before he's quickly stuffing it back in his pocket.

You're eyeing him when he rises back on his feet. "Feel like sharing?"

Jungkook whistles noncommittally. "Not particularly, no."

There's a drawn-out beat of silence where you're just gazing at each other, neither one of you backing down. And then you're crossing your arms, and he's looking at your nose and your forehead and anywhere but your eyes, and then you're arching an eyebrow. He looks at you and breaks. Defeat.

"It's your present," He lets out a heavy sigh. "Well, the main one anyway."

You positively squeal. "Ooh! Can I see? Please?"

"Baby, it's the 20th."

"Can I have a hint?"

Jungkook blinks. "No, you cannot have a hint."

You're instantly pouting, but Jungkook expects that, because he knows you better than anyone else. Which is why he knows that you're a little spoiled, with a bit of a bratty streak, with just a dash of calculated charm that you use to your advantage to get just about anything you want. He's never seen it as a bad thing. In fact, he finds it cute. A little hot, too, if he's being truthful.

Anyway, he came prepared. Just as you're opening your mouth to no doubt make him spill the surprise, he's hushing you with a bruising kiss to your lips. The kind of kiss that makes you go pliant against him, the kind that makes you make a little noise in the back of your throat. The kind you've been waiting for all night.

It’s the trick that never truly runs its course.

And Jungkook is melting, too. Melting, turning to mush at your very feet, until you're moving backwards and clutching at his shoulders, ready to push him onto the couch.

"Mmm," He's humming against you, before he reluctantly draws back. He lets you chase his lips once, twice, before he chuckles lowly. "Hold on, angel."

You're suddenly feeling warm all over after his kisses, wanting nothing more than to cuddle into him into the couch and feel him next to you. Or maybe above you. With that chain you always tugged on dangling in your face. You really weren't picky.

You watched Jungkook break away from you and rummage through his bag with a frown and a newfound heat at the pit of your belly. "It can't wait?"

Like he said, he knows you, which means he knew kisses alone wouldn’t be able to satiate you nor get you to stop asking questions for the entire week. No matter how mind-numbing they may be.

"One second," He promised, and you definitely counted at least five, but he quickly found what he was looking for all the same. "I brought a surprise. Well, two surprises."

He was holding both of his hands behind his back with this stupid grin on his face. You squinted for a few seconds, suspicious, before breathing out a laugh. "Are you ever gonna show me?"

Jungkook looked way too happy with himself.

"The most important surprise is mistletoe, obviously. Gonna have to find a way to glue it on to the ceiling above your bed." And there was that mischievous little smile that told you he had every intention of carrying that out.

You folded your arms over your body and scoffed. Even if you were trying and failing to keep your lips from quirking up and possibly, maybe finding it a little harder to breathe all of a sudden. "You're unbelievable, Jeon."

He just winked and held up his other hand, pulling a gasp from your lips the second you realized what it was.

"The Polar Express!"

"I had to check like, four different stores in the mall to find it. That's why I got here a little late, by the way. But I thought we could make some hot chocolate like in the movie and watch it together and," Jungkook pauses to think, licking his lips. "There's a 'ride my train' joke in here somewhere but I don't know how to say it."

He's snorting at his own delivery before you are, and once your giggles permeate the air he's invading your space again with a lovesick smile.

"You are the sweetest boy," You praise, holding his pretty face with both hands and peppering small kisses all over it the way he secretly likes. "But you make me sick to my stomach sometimes."

If anything, this makes him smile even wider. "I love you too, baby."

You and Jungkook are in complete darkness besides the light coming from the TV in your room playing Polar Express. His head is on your shoulder with his arm strewn across your waist, and his entire leg slotted between yours. He's soft. He smells like the lavender body soap you keep in your shower. His gentle breaths hit your neck every time he exhales and you're now cliché enough to believe that the heart underneath you beats in tandem with yours.

Both of your stomachs are filled from the takeout he ordered for dinner and the peppermint hot chocolate you made while he was in the shower. You're still mentally replaying the moment he stepped back in your room, towel wrapped around his waist with droplets of water cascading down his body. His prominent abs and tattoos and wet hair had you scrambling to sit up, clearing your throat as you tasked yourself with handing him his mug. If he noticed you ogling him, he surely didn’t react to it.

Made us some cocoa, you said.

He brought the beverage to his nose and sniffed once, twice, before his entire face bunched up. Peppermint is nasty. Then he was gulping it down.

I thought it was nasty, you laughed in disbelief.

Nothing you make me can be nasty. Thank you, baby.

And now you’re thoroughly warm from the tips of your fingertips down to your toes, and you figure it has less to do with the cocoa and more with the way Jungkook so obviously loves you. The way you love him.

Feeling a tugging at your shirt, you look down to see him peering up at you with a dazed twinkle in his eye. "You're not hot in this?"

You purse your lips and pause, knowing what was coming. "No. Are you?"

He has the decency to look a little clueless. He was always doing that, in a playfully childish way you grew to love.

"Actually, yeah I am," Jungkook furrows his brows, like it was something he was just now realizing. And then he's sitting up and pulling his shirt over his head, and you're instantly staring at his back and remembering the way it feels to rake your fingers up and down it, and he's turning back to you with a lazy smirk. "You don't wanna take yours off, angel?"

You swallow. "I'm okay."

Jungkook starts to laugh, that cocky laugh that is equal parts douchebag-ish and sexy. He's most definitely turning you on and he most definitely knows this, which is why you're glaring at him until he reaches over you and picks up the mistletoe from your bedside desk. He dangles it over your heads, makes sure to wriggle his eyebrows suggestively when he does it, and you want to laugh, you really do. You would probably roll your eyes and call him a nerd too while you were at it, if it weren't for the way he was changing his position and starting to lean over you. Crowding your space in your favorite way.

Jungkook hears your breathing pick up once you're directly under him, watches the way your lips part and your eyes change for him, and decides to go for the kill.

Nothing about the kiss was soft or gentle. Jungkook clearly had a point to prove and knew how he wanted to do it. The dangling mistletoe was soon forgotten in favor of holding your face by your chin, landing with a chime on your wooden floors. He worked your mouth open in that sloppy, messy, dirty way he only exhibited when he was feeling particularly desperate. Saliva pooled at the corners of your mouth and you were trembling underneath him, clutching at the warm skin of his back. It was nasty, absolutely obscene the way his tongue was in your mouth like his life depended on it. And you loved it. You couldn't stop making these little sounds, and Jungkook was groaning into your mouth right along with you. You were seconds away from pleading for him to do anything he wanted, to make you his, when he's abruptly pulling from you with a wet pop and a string of saliva between you.

Your ragged breaths fill the air, both of your chests heaving as you take a second to attempt to drag yourself out of the haze he's built around you two.

The asshole has the audacity to laugh. "Hot yet?"

"You don't have to bring out the mistletoe to kiss me, you know." You eventually say instead.

"I know," He pants, still smiling like the all-consuming beauty he is. "But you love Christmas. And it's our first. Wanna do it right."

You feel the need to close your eyes, let his words sink in, and so you do. You let the statement blanket over you until you're positively beaming, and when you open your eyes, he is the same. You are so irreversibly in love and you think he might be perfect. You tell him as much.

"You're perfect," You say, all soft and starry eyed. You're nodding when he starts shaking his head, and when the tips of his ears begin to turn red and he's putting his head down, you're giggling and putting both hands on either side of his head to get his eyes back on yours. "I love you a lot."

Jungkook is so happy. "Love you most."

And then he's leaning down again. This kiss is much less frantic, more steady, but still passionate and still with Jungkook, which means it fills your body with heat all the same. Your head is floating and you're squirming under his hold again when you break apart for air.

There's no point in trying to resist him anymore. You never can.

"I'm gonna take my sweater off now."

Jungkook scrunches his nose, and grins. "Okay."

read part two here!

#bts #bts fanfic #bts fanfiction #jungkook #jeon jungkook #jungkook fanfic #jungkook imagine #jungkook x reader #fluff #humor #jungkook fanfiction #jeongguk #kpop #kpop fanfic #jungkook au #jungkook series #jeongguk x reader

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innittowinit · 3 years

Text

INNITTOWINIT’S SUPER COOL MCYT FIC REC POST

FIRST OF ALL READ ALL OF MY FICS. THEY ARE POGGERS AND YOU WONT REGRET IT.

DONE? OKAY NOW YOU CAN READ OTHER FICS

(psst also if you want your fic taken off this list for whatever reason shoot me a pm)

Completed- multi chapter

- kindred spirits by arochill

In which one man leaves his dream job and learns that taking care of three monster children may be better than anything else he could ever ask for.

literally so sweet, some sad parts but its a very soft read i love it

- (this is home) by Lillian_nator for free_cookiesx

Tommy finally found the thing that he has been missing for the past 7 months. A home. People. A family. Please, just let everything be okay.

some VERY sad parts but this one is more angst with a happy ending, i love it so much it was one of the first fics i read

- pick me up, take me home by meridies for manciissuperior

With barely three hours notice, single father Phil receives a new child to foster. And unlike his two other adopted children, Wilbur and Techno, Tommy is seemingly hellbent on creating chaos. As their close-knit family begins falling apart, all four of them are forced to learn what it truly means to have one another.

DOOD literally such realistic interactions between the boys, its so good i felt so many emotions

Ongoing- Multi chapter

- A Very Odd Family, Indeed by opheliabloo

It all started in the nether, all those years ago.

A retired warrior, father to the most fearsome fighter in the land, a sharp-eyed leader with a dangerous spark, and a boy who could turn mountains to dust if he put his mind to it.

Yes. They were a very odd family, indeed.

!!!!! im reading this at the moment, im on chapter 14 and i love it so much! this fic ripped out myheart but in a good way

- You're Still Our Brothers, And We Will Fight For You by Your_Resident_Witch

Phil gets a letter from Tommy saying that Wilbur has gone insane and asking him to come and help.

SBI FAMILY AWOOGA deadass though this is such a good read for when you just want some good ol family feels, based in dream smp but its canon divergent

- Phil accidentally becomes a father - A series of short SBI Found Family stories by CagedPuddle

Phil was an average man who lived an average life. He woke up every morning, got dressed, ate breakfast, and grabbed his fishing pole before fishing for the rest of the day. He was young, barely an adult, and he already had the rest of his life practically planned out. Well… at least until THAT day.

Piglin technoblade owns myheart!!! Each chapter more or less can work on it’s own so its good for when your feeling and you wanna get a really specific part but dont feel like reading a bunch of chapters

- "It's Like Watching Your Little Brother" by SunOfIcarus

After hearing Wilbur describe Tommy as a younger brother, I haven't been able to get it out of my head since.

A collection of one-shots about Wilbur and Tommy having a sibling dynamic!

DOOD one of the first fics i started reading, there is a story in this book for any emotion i s2g its so good

- Where are your parents? by C4pricornC4ts

Wilbur, Techno, and Tommy decide to run away. Tommy is an optimist, Techno likes to disappear for days at a time and Wilbur is just trying to keep his makeshift family together.

Philza notices a struggling teenager and tries his best.

ANOTHER ONE IVE BEEN READING FOR AGES dood im obsessed with this era deadass, this fic is so soft and i love it so much, it made me feel so many things and book store owner phil owns my heart

Oneshots

- chin up king, your crown is slipping by cryptibs

this is basically just set in a kingdom AU! in the end notes i'll add what the other SBI members positions are in the kingdom! (if you're curious)

SICKFIC POG can’t go wrong with a good sickfic deadass, techno is king in this too!!!! Plus we all know i love wilbur and technos friendship

- core by qar

Wilbur lashes out. Tommy is a little upset. Phil's on damage control.

A good one to read when someone hurts you, its so good and the perfect amount of hurt and comfort

- 10 Years by amooniesong

Technoblade is touch-starved, Wilbur won't stand for that.

WILBUR TRAVELS TO AMERICA TO GIVE THIS MAN A HUG!!! WE ALL KNOW HOW I FEEL ABOUT WIL AND TECHNO FRIENDSHIP

- wilbur isn't handling online school well by leggyman

just a one-shot of wilbur not handling school.

Felt this one sm, i am the same wilbur dont worry, also tommy is so so sweet in this, a good one to read if youre getting overwhelmed

- the art and (mine)craft of war by bluesandbirds

Tommy is a gremlin. An absolute, evil gremlin child and sometimes it's a curse to be related to him. But who is this Dream guy, and why is Tommy suddenly talking about him all the time?

TECHNO JEALOUS god they really were just fighting for his attention werent they lmao, i love this sm

- Techno screams into the void and the void responds with a fatherly hug by ChipperDotChar

Of all the adventures Techno thought he would have today, having the worst wish possible come true and end up being fantastic was admittedly not on the agenda.

What the genuine fuck just happened?

VOID PEOPLE!!!! such a unique concept and i really hope the author writes more for this au at some point

- home is where the heart is by constantly_anxious

It's midnight, and Techno can't sleep.

No one else can either.

PLATONIC CUDDLES. THATS ALL IM GONNA SAY

A quick list of authors to look at:

qar

Amooniesong

cagedpuddle

c4pricornc4ts

lillian_nator

#mcyt fic rec #fic rec #mcyt #sbi #dt #sleepy bois inc #dream team

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katblu42 · 3 years

Text

The End?

This is something I wrote for a creative writing competition. The challenge was to write something (within a week) starting at the end and working back to the beginning. For some reason the prompt/challenge sparked this little piece, which is pretty much non-fiction. I guess it came at a time when the subject matter was on my mind. I wanted to post it now because a related anniversary is coming up.

There are warnings!!! Please heed the tags. Death, Sickness, Hospitals, Cancer. (If more warnings/tags are needed please let me know so I can make appropriate edits!)

Below the cut for length and warnings.

This was not how their story was supposed to end. There were still so many chapters they had hoped to write together, so many journeys toward possible futures that they had imagined spending side by side. She never anticipated being a childless widow before she had even turned forty-two. She’d never considered being faced with a hopeless situation, or the unenviable decision to allow them to stop treatment and let him slip away. Treatments that could prolong his life a little, but not fix him. Their plans had never included his hand desperately clinging to hers as she tearfully told him it was okay for him to let go and leave her behind.

He had wanted to fight. It broke her heart that there was nothing the combined efforts of all the medical staff could do to support his fight. It was a losing battle. His body was giving up on him, organs shutting down even though his mind was not ready to give up. The three weeks he lasted in the ICU had left him battle-scarred and exhausted, but he had still not wanted to give in, or let her down.

His Forty-second birthday was less than a week before the end. It was spent with family, visiting two by two according to ICU visitor limits. He was barely able to communicate by then, his lips scabbed and bloody, and a ventilator tube in his throat inserted by tracheostomy. The medical team had not wanted the tube to remain in his mouth any longer, but he was too weak to breathe on his own.

He had been off the ventilator for a while, during one of the hopeful moments. They’d been able to remove the breathing tube, and they had been able to reduce the blood pressure medication for a while. His temperature had stabilised and she’d focused on the improvements, encouraging him to think positive. Facing the alternative had been unthinkable.

She had put such hope in the drug she’d had to sign permission for them to administer – one that had to be shipped urgently from interstate, that had approval for use in the US, but not here. They had told her it was possible too much time had passed for the reversal drug to be fully effective. It had been more than five days since the chemo treatment which now needed reversing had ended.

Hope was all she’d had at that point. Seeing him finally settled in Intensive Care with all the monitors and their beeps and alarms, the ventilator with its click and hiss, the hum of the heat pump regulating his temperature, the blood transfusion and IV lines all keeping her unconscious husband alive, she had to cling to every scrap of hope she could. His immune system was so compromised she had to wear the gown and gloves and mask just to sit in the corner of the room and let the silent tears fall.

The ICU waiting room was deserted during the wee hours. She and her Mum stayed until dawn before buzzing the door intercom to enquire about seeing him. His Dad had left after the surgeon had spoken to them all some hours before, explaining that in his current state surgery was not a viable option for the infection in his gut. The previous wait in Emergency had been shorter, and the waiting room slightly more comfortable, but the constant worry and the lack of information had been excruciating.

Two ambulances had attended their tiny unit in answer to her call, such was the seriousness of his condition. Despite having four uniformed people fussing over her husband, she had not been given much information about what was happening. She’d been instructed to get all his medication together to bring with her to the hospital, then left to change out of her pyjamas while they loaded him into an ambulance. All this happened in a blur of action and confusion. Less than 20 minutes before they all headed to the hospital she had been performing chest compressions on him on the tiled floor of their cramped bathroom.

The Emergency Services operator on the other end of the phone had talked her through the CPR procedure. She’d learned it years before in first aid training, but having to actually perform the chest compressions on someone she loved was still horrifyingly daunting. He hadn’t stopped breathing, but the ES operator had assured her CPR was necessary because his gasping breaths had been so far apart.

She had never had to call an ambulance for anyone before, but it didn’t take a genius to see she needed help. His level of responsiveness had decreased so rapidly after she’d found him slumped forward sitting on the toilet, unable to sit up unaided. The yellow tinge to his skin had startled her. He had cried out to her in such a way that instinct had brought her rushing from the loungeroom without taking a moment to process anything more than the feeling that something was very wrong.

He had just wanted to sleep, so she tried to give him space to do that, sitting quietly in the loungeroom while he stayed in the darkened bedroom. He had refused to let her bring him something to eat, which had concerned her. She’d offered to call the hospital for advice, knowing he was uncomfortable and wanting to make sure he was okay, but he had refused to let her, insisting that there was no need to make a fuss. She’d arrived home from work around five, and suspected he had been in bed all day, “just feeling a bit yuck.” Later she would feel so much guilt for not trusting her instinct to get help for him then.

For the first couple of days after his chemo treatment ended he had seemed okay, feeling upbeat, acting normal. He had been in high spirits despite the prospect of months of treatment still ahead. There had been a little grumbling about feeling a little bit off, but that was to be expected, right?

His first (and only) round of chemo had been a five day affair. Three medications, two of which had been administered within a day at the clinic and the third he had carried around in a little pack while it slowly released over the five days. The plan had been laid out by the oncology team, with lots of consultations and discussions during the preceding weeks. He was to have two or three rounds of the chemo drugs, then radiation treatment would begin. Combination therapy to treat the cancers in his mouth and throat.

There had been months of discomfort, reducing his ability to eat properly, or enjoy food. He had lost a considerable amount of weight before she had been able to convince him to finally go and see a doctor and find out what was wrong. He’d always been the type to avoid going to a doctor unless he was literally at death’s door. She knew that part of what had held him back for so long was the fear that it could be something serious.

He didn’t want to ruin their holiday, but he promised he would see someone about the sore throat when they got back from the Gold Coast. It was only a week spent away, but they had visited all their favourite haunts. This was one of their regular holiday spots during their ten year marriage. They always felt like big kids, visiting the theme parks and the beaches, playing mini golf, messing about in the resort pool.

The two of them had been lucky to share many little trips away over the years. They’d had many more days of laughter and smiles than they’d had of tears and troubles. There had been precious gifts exchanged between them – but not many in a physical form she could lay her hands on. Each of them had broadened the other’s horizons, sparking interest in new experiences, sharing the activities and pass-times they loved.

Their wedding day had been filled with fun and friends and family. She had seen then how many people his bright and generous personality drew to him. So many people had wanted to share in their joy, and had told her she would never find a more loyal and loving mate. All the elegance and finery, the colour and music, the celebration of their union had been a wonderful way to begin their journey hand in hand to the future.

His proposal on the beach, early in the morning in a place he had been holidaying with his family every year since he was tiny, had taken her by surprise. He had asked her to come with him for a walk. They had travelled quite a long way up the beach, just watching the waves crash on the shore, listening to the shrieks of the gulls and making small talk. Then he had dropped to one knee and asked the question. She needed a moment to take in what was happening. His heart just about stopped, thinking she was hesitating. She had said yes, and put him out of his nervous agony.

Their first “proper” date was a walk to the local McDonalds for burgers and sundaes. Neither of them had much money, so neither had wanted to go anywhere fancy. She had been happy with the little things – like the way he always walked beside her on the footpath placing himself between her and the busy road. He was not rich, nor did he have impressive style or a brainiac’s intelligence, but he was open and funny and kind and she wanted to spend time with him.

She hadn’t ever been to the trivia night at the local bowling club, so she wasn’t sure what to expect, or how it all worked. The lady who hosted the quiz gave her an answer sheet and steered her towards a table, telling her the young man with the twinkle in his blue eyes, and the dimpled smile would look after her. That was the moment their story had begun.

#creative writing #tw death #tw hospital #tw cancer #tw sickness #two years without him come Sunday

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rueren · 3 years

Text

haikyuu boys and coffee

purely self indulgent. i have zero reason or evidence for anything 😭😭😭(didn’t do all the characters but i did as many as i could remember)

dont give them caffeine for the love of god don't do it:

HINATA ... self explanatory tbh. throw him a mini snickers n hes set for another 6 hours

BOKUTO... another self explanatory one. if he’s getting tired give him like 3 skittles and hell be fine

Terushima ... just don't im begging u please don't give him coffee. he hallucinates

NOYA ... he will bounce off of the walls dont do this to yourself him

tanaka ... honestly i think hes fine on his own but if hes with noya, they'll do something stupid like see who can handle more espresso shots before getting heart palpitations

kogenagawa ... this baby doesnt even like coffee dont let him have any im bEGGING he’ll hurl

LEV ... oh my god no please he’ll drink straight espresso thinking it’s regular n be like this is light work yall r babies then down like fOUR CUPS then think hes having a heartattack my heart 😭😭

atsumu ... thinks he can handle alot of coffee, but is def another one who will start to hallucinate

futakuchi ... i have no explanation for this sorry guys

yamaguchi ... its too bitter for him. doesn't even like it. eventually likes it when he’s older but w lots of sugar

goshiki ... very self explanatory. it’s too bitter. he tried once, bless him, bc he saw tendou constantly drinking jt but he just can’t bring himself to like it

they need an IV drip of coffee in each arm and one in their leg please they are tIRED:

AKAASHI ... self explanatory

SUGA ... he’s tired let him take a nap im BEGGING. those kids are his life force but they also suck his life force. he loves them to death

asahi ... i feel like i’m highschool he doesn’t really need it but time skip asahi chugs like 3 cups a night during fashion week

oikawa, ... self explanatory again

kenma ... he probably shouldn’t take it as much as he does because 1) he only drinks the insanely sweet ice coffees and 2) he uses it as a substitue for sleep but kuroo is convinced that kenma will one day bite his fingers off if he doesn't let him have coffee so he begrudgingly allows it

ennoshita ... he is also tired

tsukkishima ... doesn't wanna deal with anyone's shit

suna ... also doesn't wanna deal with anyone's shit.

osamu ... doesn't wanna deal with atsumu’s shit in particular

matsuwaka ... have you seen his eye bags? please daddy baby get some sleep

TENDOU ... this man inhales that shit bro you cant convince me otherwise

hanikami .. yeah it just fits tbh. he hears oikawa speak once and just downs a full cup

semi ... he’s tired of everyone’s ..,,,, everything ?? he needs a nap ok he also gets vv grouchy when he’s jetlagged dont @ me. post time skip he downs a cup or two before he gets off a plane so if there’s any fans on route that stop by he isn’t rude n grouchy to them 🥺🥺

somehow doesn't ever need coffee, they're always awake enough to function (if only barely):

daichi... he had to get used to it, dealing with all of their shit for so long.

kageyama... somehow drinks milk and is then completely fine? nobody knows how. milk literally makes you tired i- downed a pack of strawberry milkshake at a training camp and was physically buzzing from all the fructose

kuroo ... pre time skip this man has never drank a single sip of coffee once in his entire life i guarantee you. but post time skip??? cEO KUROO???? ........ yeah he still barely drinks it, but hes always got a large ass Starbucks cup on him so everyone fears him, thinking he’ll be cranky without it it was a present from kenma awh . its actually filled with water or tea of protein shake or something im crying. like can you just imagine everyone in the office scurrying to get the big ass rooster head-ass boss his cup of morning coffee bc they've seen him with this enormous ass titan of a travel mug everyday and he takes it every morning graciously, only to give it to kenma when/if he drops by through the day. pls im sCREAMING

shirabu ... thinks its gross dont ask me why. i have it drilled in my head that tendou got everyone to drink it but they pretended because they didnt wanna hurt his feelings, and nobody actually liked him.

ushijima ... the most self explanatory thing ive ever seen in my life oh my god. he read online once that it has addictive qualities and immediately went d r u g s ? ! ? ! ? ! ? tries his best to stop tendou from his “addiction”. “it’s like heroine, satori. you know, like cocaine. irl make you sick” pls my heart can’t take it

aran ... i also legit dont have a reason for this just lOOK at him

kita ... he doesnt need it dude hes fine. dont ask how, he gets a good nights sleep. literally never needs to pull all-nighters. cute baby awh i love him sm

aone... i physically mentally? can not see this man drinking coffee it doesnt work

IWAIZUMI ... honestly i dont know how he does it. he is a tired man how does he nOT DRINK IT.

#💕.k chan.hc #haikyuu headcanons #haikyuu #this was completely self indulgent #inspired by the coffe on my desk i have yet to drink e #my fav hobby is making coffee #and forgetting i made it #then i go oh right my coffe #and i take a sip and its cOLD #my microwave and my coffee mug have a love hate relationship sorry guys #n e ways enjoy this while i try and work on my tendou smau

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neerasrealm · 4 years

Note

Describe your Jay Myles Planetary Go AMV- I want to know what you see-

FUCK DUDE THAT WAS FAST. ok ok fair. ok so to start off, i DO actually picture an AMV for this HDSGFDSHGJ ive never made an AMV before but god do i wanna. maybe i’ll attempt one in december when i have my christmas break off school?? i need an editing software fhdgdsjhfgsjd if any of yall know one thats free or cheap please lmk. the AMV itself i picture in black, white and bright pink. its inspired by another planetary go AMV, an undertale one from like 4/5 years ago. its how i first found the song so i always associated those colours with it lol.

I’m gonna go through it lyric by lyric and try to describe things the best i can DSHFGDSH im mentally ill sorry <3 ALSO this has a lotta spoilers for lore i havent talked about at ALL if yall wanna hit up my inbox after and ask for more explanation feel free lol

There might be something outside your window But you'll just never know I picture Jay standing by a window looking out it, on the second line he turns away and walks off. the art is white with black lines. There could be something right past the turnpike gates But you'll just never know we see Jay walking down the street holding a camera. He stops at the burnt down remains of Karen Doggers’s house, like in the fic i posted yesterday.

If my velocity starts to make you sweat Then just don't let go And if the heaven ain't got a vacancy Then we just, then we just, then we just, then we just Get up and go Just Jay looking around the house, again like in my fic. We see him get scared by Zalgo appearing behind him and we see him grinning wide, setting him up as a somewhat important character in the narrative. I think. During the instrumentals it’s the general credits and stuff.

Ladies and gentleman, truth Is now acceptable fame Is now injectable process the progress These lines are black with white lineart. We get shots of Doby just living his best life, being a murderer and having fun. The only colour on him is the pink of his goggles, which obscures his eyes.

This core is critical faith Is unavailable lives Become incredible now Please understand that With each line another character appears. Each one is another that works for The Operator like Doby does. ‘‘This core is critical’‘ is Dana (OC), ‘‘Faith is unavailable’‘ is Godfrey (OC), ‘‘Lives become incredible’‘ is The Operator, ‘‘Now’‘ is Toby and ‘‘Please understand that’‘ is our main man Doby

I can't slow down I won't be waiting for you I can't stop now because I'm dancing Some imagery of Doby running off away from Jay. This isn’t literally happening, it’s more a way of showing that Jay feels abandoned and betrayed.

This planet's ours to defend Ain't got no time to pretend Don't fuck around, this is our last chance More stuff showing The Operator’s proxies. Godfrey tells Doby not to fuck around and shoves him. Toby catches him and the other proxies all glare at him. Fuck Godfrey he’s the worst.

If my velocity starts to make you sweat Then just don't let go We see Jay and Zalgo sitting in a cafe together. Jay is obviously nervous about something, and sweating. On ‘’don’t let go’’ Zalgo grabs his hand from across the table 'Cause the emergency room got no vacancy And we just, and we just, and we just, and we just Get up and go Zalgo is the one saying the line about the emergency room. He’s convincing Jay to do his bidding. We see the two shake hands.

they want you to be (Who) they wanted to see (Go) kill the party with me and never go home We see Jay doing things for Zalgo, completely unaware that he’s being manipulated into doing his bidding. Zalgo pretends to help him. On ‘‘Who they wanted to see’‘ we see Jay being shown a picture of Doby. Who they want you to be Who they wanted to see Just leave the party with me and never go home We see Doby again, still being a murderer and having fun. On the last line we see him running along with Toby.

You're unbelievable Ah, so unbelievable Ah, you ruin everything Oh, you better go home Jay is the one saying these lines. He’s looking over photos and footage of Doby. He’s mad, he feels abandoned, and like Doby doesn’t care about what it is he’s doing. He wants his friend to come back home.

I'm unbelievable Yeah, I'm undefeatable Yeah, let's ruin everything, blast it to the back row Doby is the one saying this. He isn’t having fun this time though. He’s talking with Toby and Dana. On the last line Godfrey bursts into the room and gets mad at them

They sell presentable Young, and so ingestible Sterile and collectible Safe, and I can't stand it Godfrey summons The Operator and he tries to attack the three of them. Dana defends them, attacking The Operator on ‘’Safe, and I can’t stand it.’’ This is a letter, my word Is the beretta, the sound Dana yells at Toby and Doby to run of my vendetta Against the ones that planned it We see Toby and Doby run out of the shack and away from The Operator. They’ve never been able to escape him before, and they weren’t prepared to leave, so they’re scared.

If my velocity starts to make you sweat Then just don't let go We get a shot of Toby looking scared and nervous. On the second line Doby takes his hand 'Cause the emergency room got no vacancy Tell me who do you trust, do you trust And we just get up and go We see Jay laying in his bed, asleep. He hears knocking on the window and gets up. He opens the window and sees Doby grinning at him. He was NOT READY FOR THAT OK HE WAS NOT

Who they want you to be Who they wanted to see (Go) kill the party with me and never go home Ok this parts kinda fast but I’ll try to get through it. Doby and Jay hug, then it cuts to the two of them plus Toby sitting on the bed talking. On ‘’kill the party with me’’ Godfrey BUSTS into the room, attacks Toby and Doby and then Jay fuckin smacks him over the head with a baseball bat. The three of them start arguing and then Jay points at the window in fear. Who they want you to be Who they wanted to see Just leave the party with me and never go home Hobo Heart is at the window. This makes sense in context I promise. He motions for Toby and Doby to follow him. Doby and Jay exchange a look and Doby follows after him. Things get a little rough from around here to the end of the song im sorry HDSFGJDSGJ

You keep eternity, give us the radio Deploy the battery, we're taking back control Doby and Toby are the ones speaking here. They’re in Slender Mansion now, getting ready to fight. Engage the energy, light up the effigy We see Jay again, tying Godfrey to a chair like a reasonable human being. On ‘’light up the effigy’’ his phone lights up. Zalgo is calling him. No chance to take it slow By now I'm sure you know, know, know, know, know (one, two, three, four) We see Jay freak out and Z’s appear in his eyes. Godfrey climbs out of the chair and looks at him. Get up and go Jay, who’s now under Zalgo’s control, follows Godfrey out of the house

they want you to be (Who) they wanted to see (Go) kill the party with me and never go home Who they want you to be Who they wanted to see Just leave the party with me and never go home We see quick shots of various characters all fighting here, including Doby and Toby. Masky does something cool here but I won’t say what

Are we still having fun? Are you holding the gun? We see Doby and Jay recovering from a fight. Doby turns around and sees Jay, who points a gun at him. Take the money and run We'll never go home Jay fires at Doby and Toby lunges at him, fighting him until he runs off

I've got nothing to lose You've got nothing to say And we're leaving today We'll never go home Toby turns and tries to run over to Doby, but a huge crack in the ground appears. Toby tries to jump it but he doesn’t make it and is left clinging to the edge. We get a shot of Doby, laying on the ground, too pained to help his friend. Then we see Toby lose his grip

I think I better go now I think I better go now I think I better go now (go home) Gonna go now, gonna go now, gonna go now, gonna go now Go now, gonna go now Go home Some shots of Zalgo in his true form fighting against someone. Then it cuts to Jay stumbling through the woods. He stops against a tree, then collapses. A picture of himself of Doby flies out of his pocket and towards the camera. It’s the final thing you see.

#THIS IS REALLY ROUGH AND NEEDS MORE CONTEXT #BUT I REALLY WANNA MAKE THIS ONE DAY AAAAAAA #ask #anon #anonymous #third base #third base creepypasta #jay myles #doby doggers #ticci toby #dana punaise #godfrey #zalgo #I may change the ending and stuff idk

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bills-pokedex · 4 years

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Crown Tundra: Part I

{Reminder: If you’re just here for headcanons, please blacklist powerverse!}

{Welcome to the Crown Tundra subplot. ;) This is part 1 of idk we’re going until this plot is finished. Asks may open up just for powerverse asks, if folks want. (Comment to let me know?)

Otherwise, don’t worry. These entries will be limited to one a day, and asks will still pop out in the meantime. Because yay opportunities to cheat at NaNo.

But in the meantime, if you’re here for just asks, I can’t emphasize that first line enough. Blacklist “powerverse.” These are long posts, so if you’re here for headcanons, save yourselves the headaches. D: D: D:

To the rest of you, please enjoy this month’s serving of shenanigans! :D}

In a word, Freezington was less a village and more a resort that happened to have a village attached. The locals, bundled up in thick coats lined with fur, smiled and nodded to the tourists that walked by, but they rarely said a word to them. Those tourists would pass, and the locals, still standing on the half-frozen carrot fields of the tiny village, would immediately go back to gossiping in low tones about the things they gossiped about for the past thirty-odd years. In the meantime, snow fell softly on the village’s wooden cabins, and the ones the locals lived in looked worn and old yet reliable, like old grandfathers standing in a field of snow, puffing away at pipes. By contrast, the cabins for tourists looked a little newer, a little glossier, with red paint and no smoke curling from their chimneys, yet they added a touch of color to the otherwise picturesque winter town. It was quaint, like a Currier and Ives print on a Christmas greeting card. It was the kind of place where you didn’t so much go to launch yourself into an adventure but rather ski a little and curl up next to a fireplace with a mug of hot chocolate a lot.

Lanette wished she was doing the latter—curling up next to a fireplace with a mug of chocolate, that is. As it was, though, she found herself wading through snow drifts between the edge of town and a cabin she knew would be her home for the next several weeks, with her mittened hands around her backpack straps and a slew of colorful words held back only by her chattering teeth.

To be fair, she knew how to dress for the winter, and in fact, she was. Thermals. Turtleneck. Fleece vest. Thick snow pants. A snow jacket on top of all that. Hat. Mittens. Scarf. Heavy snowboots. By all accounts, she should have been perfectly warm, and to be honest, she did feel the cool sheen of sweat underneath her thermal. But the point was she was standing in snow and peering over the rims of her fogged glasses while feeling incredibly petty right about then.

Mostly because Bill, who was apparently not dressed quite as heavily, was far happier about this whole ordeal than she felt he had any right to be for someone walking through a literal tundra.

“Take a look at this,” he said, holding his tablet computer out for her to see. Lanette only afforded it a slight glance, just enough to know that it was on a tourism website of some kind. “According to this, one of Freezington’s chief tourism spots, the Max Lair, has recently seen a flood of reports from trainers who have encountered dynamaxed legendaries. We absolutely must go there! How can we not investigate these reports?”

“Uh huh,” Lanette said, silently praying to Jirachi that the moment they’d reach the cabin, a sudden wave of jet lag would hit her partner.

“Then of course there are the ancient ruins around the island,” Bill continued, flicking through his tablet himself. “Four in all, it seems, and all four of them are locked with puzzles that are yet to be solved. Legend has it that each shrine is actually a giant containment unit for powerful pokémon, and judging by these carvings above their doors, I have a feeling you can guess exactly what’s inside. Surely, you’ll want to check them out, right?”

“Sure. Yeah,” Lanette said, her eyes drifting to the cabins. Which one was theirs again?

“And then there’s Dyna Tree Hill, where—ah! Lanette, take a look at this!”

She stopped dead and sighed again. Dreams of hot chocolate (with marshmallows and just a touch of cayenne, maybe) were creeping further and further away from Lanette’s reach, and she knew this. Still, she took a deep breath and reminded herself this was Bill. When they were younger, when she met him, she liked to compare him to a diamond in a chunk of coal. There was something there, she knew, and it would take hard work and effort to slowly chip away at a hardened shell to find something beautiful. And that enthusiasm? That sense of absolute wonder? That was the diamond.

It was just that there were times when Lanette wished she could just sort of shut that diamond away in a nice little jewelry box and have a nice cup of hot chocolate. It wasn’t his fault, really. It was just the fact that she was stuck in a tundra and just really wanted that hot chocolate.

So, forcing those thoughts of cocoa away for a second, she tried her best to look interested as she turned her head to see what had caught Bill’s attention.

It was a statue. Granted, it afforded more reverence than that, and the part of Lanette that actually sort of liked art knew that, though she couldn’t put her finger on why. It wasn’t exactly anything special at first glance. It wasn’t even large; it was barely Bill’s height and just standing there without a base. The details of its face looked worn away, and the stone itself? Not exactly the kind of glittering marble that would inspire generations. But there was something about it that caught her attention too, and she walked forward, examining the figure steadily.

And then Bill, in a voice that was low and hushed and with all the reverence Lanette wished she could muster, finally pointed out what was prodding at the back of her mind.

“What pokémon do you think these are?”

Lanette stopped at his side and really took them in. The top figure was a bipedal creature. Small, with a deer-like face and what looked like a cape wrapped around thin shoulders. Its head was jagged, and Lanette couldn’t tell if that was intentional or if there was more to that puzzle than she had originally thought. And the bottom figure? A horse with no eyes. As in, its eyes weren’t worn away. It was as if they weren’t there in the first place. Lanette shuddered for more than just the cold. A sense of something amiss settled deep into her core and chilled her inside out, and she wanted nothing more than to walk away from that statue. She couldn’t explain it, but she knew that of all the legendaries that supposedly called Crown Tundra home, these two were the last pokémon Bill should be meeting.

“Lanette?”

Without meaning to, Lanette gasped and turned to her partner to find him gazing at her worriedly.

“Is everything all right? You look a little spooked,” he said.

Lanette wrapped her arms around herself and backed away from the statue.

“O-of course,” she said. “I just—look, it’s really cold out here, and we’ve been traveling for a long time. Let’s just find our cabin, warm up, and get some rest, okay?”

Bill’s expression of concern intensified a little, then flickered into a certain gravity that told Lanette that, by some miracle, she managed to talk sense into him for once.

“Right. You’re right. Let’s settle into the cabin first.”

Lanette relaxed at that point, then began leading Bill away from the statue. She knew better than to assume that was that, though. She knew her partner well enough, and in any case…

…he wasn’t at all subtle about glancing back at that statue with that look of unbreakable curiosity Lanette knew all too well.

#powerverse #crown tundra #pokefic

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veiledpeaches · 4 years

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chance encounters | part iii: what i mean when i say

Summary: Between pages of meddling friends and societal expectations, all she actually wants is to find a happily ever after with Doyoung, even if it feels like that is no longer possible.

part i x part ii x part iii x part iv x part v x part vi

word count: 4k

GIF originally posted by @lukhei

Haewon’s day starts briefly like this – a backache verging on cataclysmic, a phone that is ringing off the hook and a thunderous sizzle from the kitchen that could be an auditory representation of Johnny cooking up a storm for no particular reason on a Saturday morning.

“Johnny Suh, you know you’re not allowed to touch the kitchen as long as I am in the house.” She gripes as she walks out of her bedroom upon washing up.

“It’s my house,” Johnny argues, just as he places a fork and knife on either side of the dish he has prepared for her. “And - you’re welcome. Johnny’s homemade blueberry pancakes.”

“Please, you should be thanking me,” she says, sliding all her hair across one shoulder and digging into the pancakes. “Plus, what if I wanted waffles? That would void your compensation.”

“I can make you waffles later if you want,” Johnny winks. “Although, we can argue that pancakes really don’t deserve such discrimination if waffles aren’t accorded the same breakfast ghettoization - they’re practically made of the same ingredients.”

Haewon studies him with narrowed eyes. “That good, huh?”

“Whaddya mean?” Johnny’s expression turns sheepish.

“Ghettoization?” She returns the question, moving her hair behind her shoulder and smirking, “you’re rambling, it’s written all over your face, you sad sad man-child.”

He jauntily sits himself on the chair in front of her, the grin on his face too pleased to be contrite. “It was good.”

“We really ought to soundproof your room, she literally woke me up-”

The lady in question chooses this opportune moment to make her presence known, sauntering up to Haewon and Johnny as she buckles her watch to her wrist. Haewon’s head whips towards Johnny with glaring eyes, while Johnny discreetly mouths an apology back to her. They had laid down the quintessential rule (the rule that makes all ground rules obsolete) when Haewon had moved in in early 2017 - staying over’s only okay after the fifth date; if you want to have a one-night stand, book yourself a hotel. This is Johnny’s second infraction of the year (not that Haewon is counting, she has too much of a life for that). She hears Johnny’s date of four times stop short in front of them.

“Youngho-ah, who’s this lady and what’s she doing eating your pancakes in her underwear?”

Haewon drops her gaze onto herself as Johnny stands to give the accuser a kiss on the temple. It’s clearly just a camisole that’s in question, though given what Johnny’s lover is planning to wear out of the apartment, it’s sort of audacious of her to bring this up when she’s really giving Haewon a run for her money.

“This is Haewon, baby, my roommate. I grew up with her back in the U.S.”

“Ah,” Said lover reaches her hand out to shake Haewon’s in an oddly formal manner, her coffin nails digging slightly into the back of her hand. Haewon guesses the sigh that emits from her lips right after she studies her has more to do with relief than recognition.

Shrugging internally, Haewon sits back down to finish her breakfast as she hears Johnny and his partner-she-can’t-give-a-name-to-‘cause-Johnny-said-no-labels kiss noisily and bid goodbye, as she eyes said partner’s figure. Yeap, Johnny’s definitely a titties man.

“It was a crime of passion, your honor!” Johnny dramatically pleads once the door shuts as Haewon shakes her head vigorously and mutters, “that’s not how you use it”.

“You’re cleaning the apartment the whole of next month,” Haewon insists, before her eyes widen as a thought flits into her head, “oh my God, you guys didn’t do it on the couch, did you-”

“Of course not! I’m not an animal!” Johnny pretends to be scandalized, “and, come on. It was 2am. I couldn’t kick her out of bed - what can I say, I’m a gentleman. A modern romantic.”

“I think you catastrophically misinterpret the word ‘romantic’.”

Despite the inflection, Johnny is, one-hundred percent, a hopeless romantic - something Haewon quickly learnt after witnessing the poor man get dumped over the phone a while after she had relocated to Seoul. Johnny believes in the concept of soulmates, the proverbial ‘one’, and an ancient concept that most people would currently refer to as ‘destiny’. The manifestation of his soulmate pursuit is countless dates and relationships, grandiose expressions of love and a penchant for serenading his lovers with roses from their windows - a gesture not every Korean woman appreciates especially at 11pm on a Thursday night.

“I think I’m gonna marry her, Haewon,” Johnny tells her now, with a sparkle in his eye, “I think she's the one.”

Haewon looks at him disbelievingly. “You’ve been on four dates, John.”

“I know, but it feels so right, you know?” He smiles softly in a moment of clairvoyance, standing up to clear their plates. “Speaking of marrying someone, isn’t there something you need to do on Monday?”

Haewon rolls her eyes. Subtlety has never been his strong suit.

There’s a reason Johnny has been calling Monday D-day for the past week, and repeatedly using phrases that border on annoying such as ‘it’s go time’ and ‘let’s get it’. Monday would mark the return of a highly anticipated Kim Doyoung, and Johnny is adamant that Haewon should tell Doyoung, especially since Inhee has not confessed about what she's done.

“Isn’t it possible that she might want to tell him face-to-face?”

“If it was me,” Johnny straddles the chair in mock confrontation, balancing his arms on the seat. “If this was me, would you be saying something so naïve?”

“But it’s not you-”

“If the conditions were the same, but it was me instead of Doyoung, you know you would tell me in a heartbeat. And I would appreciate it, Haewon, just as he would.”

“You’re not doing this for yourself,” he looks at Haewon with a seriousness that silences her. “Don’t beat yourself up over something you have no reason to. You’re doing it for Doyoung.”

“The moment he reaches work, you march into his office, and you tell him truthfully what you saw. No one can accuse you of anything when you’re just being truthful.”

There’s a sign on the wall at the far right corner of the office that says “There’s no room for losers”. It’s a signature Fulworth saying, especially when things get tough at work.

Haewon has never felt particularly perturbed by it until now. She can almost hear the enunciation of the word ‘losers’ in his low, gruff voice.

Unlike Johnny’s prediction, Haewon’s will isn’t the only thing stopping her from talking to Doyoung about his fiancée when Monday comes. The issue turns out to be a lot less 1980s-movie-dramatic than they had expected – a case of timing.

Doyoung has been in and out of meetings since he entered the office after lunch.

It’s not even like Haewon has been systematically avoiding him. Doyoung barely had a chance to say hi to her and update her about the situation at Bertsman when he had been whisked away by a very anxious Lee Donghyuck, who had been held in trepidation for the last two weeks due to the declining sales figures. Haewon had laughed, gotten back to the copy she had been working on for Cho Young Jun’s book press release, her stomach lurching at the thought of what she had to do later.

There's no room for losers, the neat cursive print stares back at her from the wall.

It’s only hours later, when the sky has turned pitch black and the hour hand on the clock has pointed to ten, that Haewon begrudgingly creaked her joints into motion as she made her way to the Managing Editor’s office, cursing Johnny and all that he stood for as a person.

“Haewon!” Doyoung’s lips breaks into a smile and stands up suddenly, with only the harsh light from the desk lamp illuminating his face. “I thought I told you to leave at six, I don’t even know when I can leave the office…”

“Doyoung works late every night. We hardly spend much time in the same room anymore. We don’t even talk anymore, about our lives and our work.”

“Boss, you just got back late last night. You should rest.” She tries, “and, well, your fiancée might be waiting up…”

“It’s okay, Inhee understands,” Doyoung laughs, “besides, I sort of have to undo literally everything the Bertsman employees have done. That’s what I’ve been saying, you can’t trust any one of their employees, they don’t do things the way we do,” he smirks.

Haewon smiles softly at him, even if he cannot see, his eyes trailing after the lines on the paper in front of him.

“Ah, but what can I do? I’m just a worker ant.” He flops his arms around, as if mimicking an actual worker ant.

This action doesn’t bring Haewon laughter as she had expected. Instead, her heart feels like it’s been wrung, the sudden tightening in her chest inexplicable. She doesn’t know if it’s a biological reaction, but tears have started to fill her eyes, and there seems to be nothing else she can do but blink them back.

This is the Doyoung that Haewon has fallen in love with, all five foot ten of him, gummy smile and square shoulders, a kind boss and a workaholic - but how real her feelings are doesn’t and cannot negate how ill-placed the same feelings are in their situation. Here he is, looking at her, grinning at her, as her vision blurs. In that moment, she swears she hears something in her break; a small, clean sound, like the snapping of a flower’s stem.

“Oh by the way, you really need to get back to me on the wedding,” he laughs breathily, “I really need that RSVP-”

“I can’t go.” The words leave her before she realizes, breath seeming to return to her lungs temporarily. “I… I can’t attend your wedding.”

His face falls.

“Oh, you have something that day?” His smile doesn’t reach his eyes.

“No, I…” She looks down, licking her lips and inhaling shakily. “I can't attend your wedding, because…”

“Haewon.”

“Because… Because I like you.”

She hears more than sees his reaction, the pen in his hand slipping through his fingers and thudding gently onto the carpeted floor. “Haewon.”

“Because I like you,” her voice is still shaky, but there’s a part of her that’s calmer than ever before. “I can’t attend your wedding.”

She lifts her gaze to meet his, but Doyoung’s expression remains unreadable. She feels her jaw start to quiver, and clenches down on it.

“I like you, Doyoung. I like you so much that I can’t sleep, can’t think. I like you, I want to be with you, but you know what I also want?” She lets out a shaky breath, “I want you to be happy…”

It’s not like a leaky faucet, or a dam breaking. Instead, it’s like the little Dutch boy had pulled his finger out of her chest, because suddenly everything inside her is spilling out at once.

“But I see you everyday,” she shuts her eyes, and the tears flow at their will, “I don’t… know… what to do. Believe me, if I could will these feelings away, I would. I don’t want to feel so pathetic, I don’t want to like you like this.

“But I’ve also realized that I can’t be that… person, who stands on the sidelines and watches as you marry someone else - I can’t, I couldn’t do that to myself. I’m sorry. This is so out of line and you probably don’t want to hear this.” She inhales shakily, shutting her eyes as she pauses. “I’m sorry for telling you this… I just… I just needed you to know.”

Doyoung looks at her as if in a daze, his own lips quivering, until almost immediately, his head falls and he inhales sharply, as if giant invisible scissors had cut off his marionette strings.

“Why… Why now.”

Her eyes widen. “What do you-”

“Why are you telling me this, Haewon?” Doyoung looks at her like she’s missing a point, like she’s the most breakable thing in the world. “What am I supposed to do with this?”

Her eyes sting with fresh tears. She can feel something rising in her throat - a sob, a scream - but she bites it back, shutting her eyes so tightly there are almost tears that refuse to escape. She hates herself for crying, for showing any weakness here, for thinking she ever had a shot with someone like him.

There's no room for losers, but in that moment, she can’t help but feel like she has become one.

It’s Friday, finally the end of the week.

She softly clicks the pen in her hand open and close, drifting in and out as Huang Renjun drones on and on about the press kits they are planning to prepare for the media and why the Marketing Department needed more of the budget to be allocated to them.

This meeting has lasted way too long, and it feels even longer with Doyoung right next to her, the sleeve of his jacket inches away from hers. He's scribbling down notes diligently, making her existence in the meeting obsolete - it’s been like this the whole week, and Haewon is exhausted. She knows what Doyoung is doing, how he’s taking meeting minutes down like someone who doesn’t have an assistant so he doesn’t have to ask her for them later. Despite the promise of putting what happened behind them on Monday, she’s entirely aware that things will never be the same again.

The envelope sitting in her bag is still warm, its contents only freshly printed this morning. She vaguely hears Kim Jungwoo asking a question before all eyes are suddenly turned towards her.

All, but Doyoung's.

She looks around the room, befuddled, while feeling Yuta’s foot nudge hers gently, presumably to get her to speak.

“I’m so sorry,” she finally says.

“Manager Kim asked if you had too much on your plate,” the timid intern next to Kim Jungwoo speaks up, “and if you were willing to undertake more of the comms with Cho Young Jun himself.”

She opens her mouth, surprised, and turns to Kim Jungwoo.

“As we were saying, before you spaced out on us,” he laughs good-naturedly, “we let him read the copy you wrote and he likes it. He specified that he wants to work with you.”

Haewon’s gaze drops to her notebook, where a messily scrawled question blinks back at her. Today or next week? She blinks, momentarily realizing that the decision presented to her now accounted for more in the future than she had thought.

“I… That would be a great opportunity for me, thank you.”

Kim Jungwoo grins. “Don’t thank me, your boss told the boy that you were highly supportive of his work. Of course he would be excited to work with you.”

She turns towards Doyoung, a wide-eyed Doyoung, a Doyoung who only looks back at her now, his eyes not betraying any emotion.

There’s something about placing the envelope on his desk that makes it so official, a breath of fresh air that comes from a gesture that’s so unabashedly melodramatic and passé. Doyoung eyes the envelope warily, clearly this was not something he had imagined.

“Why is it… addressed to me? Why isn’t it in an email?” Doyoung drops his glasses onto his desk, pressing his fingers gently against his eyelids. “Why… What is this, Haewon?”

“I just…” She licks her lips. “I just wanted to make sure you received it, is all.”

Doyoung looks at her for a moment, then gets up and shuts the door of his office, before clicking on the button below his desk, rendering the glass office translucent.

“Tell me, Haewon, what is this about? Is it because of Monday?”

She winces, remembering the state of mess she had reduced herself to that night. The only thing more pathetic than confessing to someone who’s engaged, is confessing to someone who’s engaged while crying.

“No, boss, of course not. I thought we agreed to put it behind us.”

“I thought we did too,” he says, sighing and standing with his hands on his waist. “Then what’s this about? I mean, do you want… a raise? What can I-”

“No no no, please don’t think that way. I applied for a Literary Arts Masters’ at Brown University,” Doyoung’s remains bewildered. “I want to be a writer, and, I want to study for it.”

Doyoung inhales shakily. “I mean, I know you wanted to write, but… You should have told me about this. I would’ve written you a letter of recommendation…”

“Well I got in,” she shrugs and smiles, “and… I want to do it. I’ll be admitted in the fall, so I’m moving soon.”

It’s almost like she can see the gears shifting in Doyoung’s head, the mental calculations as apparent. “Is that what you wanted to tell me on Monday? When you came into my office, is that the, well,” he licks his lips, “more technical reason why you can’t come to my wedding?”

Not entirely, she thinks. “Well, it’s one of them.”

Doyoung settles himself back into his chair, absentmindedly rearranging the stationery on his desk. “I don’t want a new assistant.”

Her heart sinks. “I know you’re stressed. I’m sorry, and… this feels irresponsible, that I didn’t tell you this earlier. Thing is, I didn’t really believe I would get in, and I got my letter so late, so now I only have the next three months…” She pauses, realizing that none of this should be important in the discussion. “That’s why I’m giving you a month’s notice instead of the required two weeks, I’m sorry that this is what I can only leave you with, but I want to help as much as I can. I swear, boss, I’ll get handovers done as best as I can, whether the recruitment is internal or external, I’ll make sure the transition is as smooth as possible for you-”

“No, I mean…” Doyoung stands up, the pinstripes of his suit bouncing against the light as he does, and walks slowly towards Haewon, standing right in front of her.

“I don’t want to lose you.”

If there's anything she'll miss, it's how Doyoung always leaves her breathless. The sincerity in his eyes twinkling like unshed tears, the way he just looks softly at her like this, his lips pursed tightly and making the small, almost unnoticeable scar by the corner of his lips more prominent. This is the Doyoung that makes her heart soar, an unspoken tenderness dancing across his features. But with this Doyoung also comes an unmistakable truth glaring right back at her.

“No one is irreplaceable, Doyoung,” she starts, a lump rising in her throat, “especially not me. And I think it’s clear that this week has proven that we are no longer able to work together properly because of my feelings and the awkwardness that it has caused.”

“I was trying to give you space-”

“I don’t need space, Doyoung!”

“What was I supposed to say? What am I supposed to say, Haewon? I’m engaged!”

He looks at her for a long time, then sighs and turns away exasperatedly, tears darting in his eyes.

And there it is - the bubble that has popped, the pink elephant in the room. Because the truth is, from start to finish, as selfish and morally repugnant as it is, Haewon had foolishly hoped for a future with this man somehow in some way, even when it had never been possible.

“You’re right,” Haewon feels her eyes sting, but she has promised herself that she is not going to cry in front of Doyoung ever again. They aren’t close enough for that.

“No, you’re right, I’m sorry, I don't know what I was expecting, why I said what I said.” She shakes her head, attempting to breathe again.

“Besides, your engagement isn’t the only thing standing in the way of anything happening between us.”

Doyoung looks up immediately. “What do you mean by that?”

Haewon winces and swallows, unwilling to spell it out. “I mean, you don’t… feel the same way, at all.”

There comes a point when things are undeniable and can't be hidden any longer, even from yourself.

“I never should have told you about it,” her voice comes out as a whisper this time, unintentionally intimate.

“I’m sorry - even with everything that I said that day, it only occurred to me after, how truly stupid and inappropriate it was… in the office, no less.” Doyoung begins to shake his head, but she continues. “I don't have an excuse for it, I’m sorry - but I swear I’m not… for the lack of a better word, punishing you or anyone else with my resignation. Even before telling you, I was bent on moving overseas for the degree. So Doyoung, you really don’t have to feel guilty or anything - you don’t owe me anything, I shouldn’t have said anything.

“At the same time… The chance for me to pursue my dream is too rare to give up on.

“You’ve done so well before I came into your life, you’re gonna be okay.”

Doyoung averts his gaze away once again, putting his hands into his pockets, and alternating between resting his weight on his left and right foot.

“You’re wrong, you know, you’ve never been more wrong.”

“I’m sorry?”

He finally looks up, his eyes filled with sadness enough to keep Haewon from taking a step out of his office. Outside, phones are ringing and people are talking, noisy and continuous and completely unaware. But here, there is a Doyoung who looks at her like she could break easily, as he contemplates whether or not the next words have to be said, if at all.

“You said no one is irreplaceable, but you’re irreplaceable to me.”

It’s finally down to the last week of her work - and a part of Haewon feels guilty to admit that it is a relief.

This is what Doyoung and Haewon has been reduced to - two people who would rather send each other emails than talk face-to-face, even if it’s about work. On the bright side - if there is one - the diminished duties mean that Haewon has been given ample time to interview, recruit and train Doyoung’s new assistant - a dogged 25-year-old fresh graduate with a double major in Journalism and Communications who has an unhealthy obsession with cars, whom the younger estrogen-infused female interns label “daddy material”.

“Ready?” Johnny smiles as he shoves his keys in his pants pocket.

She slides her bag across her shoulder and looks at him up and down. “Johnny, you’re not ready.”

“Oh right! Shit,” Johnny mumbles to himself, rushing to his room to get his shirt.

It’s 8.25am, which means that Johnny’s definitely going to be late, since he’ll drop Haewon off at her office first, but Johnny doesn’t really seem to care. She laughs to herself, picking up her phone just as a message notification chimes.

Haewon, I’m so sorry I can’t tell you this myself, but I will be on personal leave for the entire week. I know you’re mostly done with handovers and training Jeno, but I’ll need you to hold the fort for this last week - just check your email, you’ll understand everything. I’m so sorry I can’t be here for your last week. Thank you.

Personal leave? What kind of emergency would-

“Haewon!” Johnny jogs out of his room, his phone and shirt in his hands. “Did you know?”

His eyes are wide with shock, his mouth open. He swallows, taking in Haewon’s equally baffled expression.

“I just got a call from my Mom. The wedding’s off…”

w/n: dear friends, please do not zone out in meetings. it doth not helpeth thee.

also, johnny is a giant teddy bear

come scream at me!! here :-)

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pa-tr0-clus-backup · 3 years

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This is just gonna be a rant/train of thought/absolute mess cause idk what I’m doing but like yeah so as with all my personal posts if anyone sees this then please just ignore it lol sorry I’m so annoying but I just like typing things and then sending them into the void so y’know

Basically my mental health has been getting worse and worse for a while which isn’t surprising since it’s always bad but gets worse 1) when New Things are happening and 2) during winter and I just started uni this year and it’s fucking dark at 4pm now everyday. But yeah so I’ve been self-harming and having suicidal thoughts for six years now. I’ve attempted suicide once and planned/prepared to kill myself at least three times by now. It’s not great in my head honestly and it hasn’t been for many years.

I’ve tried to get help twice. The first time I was thirteen and told my parents/school/GP and... none of them did anything. They all just thought I was attention seeking and would stop on my own if they didn’t ‘indulge me’. I wasn’t diagnosed with anything or referred for therapy or meds or anything. They ignored it and surprise surprise it didn’t fucking stop. They just didn’t know about it anymore.

The second time I tried to get help I was seventeen and I referred myself to the school counsellor. They were a counsellor in training from the local college and quite frankly absolute shit. I felt worse and worse after each session and honestly felt relieved when the 6 sessions I was allotted were over.

Part of the issue is I have been struggling for so long that 1) I don’t know who I am if I’m not feeling Like This and 2) Ive had such bad experiences with trying to get help I can’t bring myself to try again. What’s got me thinking about all this again is the fact that the newest development in my shitty shitty mental health is an eating disorder. Now again, I’m not diagnosed with anything, but after months of consideration I can tentatively consider that eating 500 calories a day for months on end and feeling fat and sick after eating literally anything and refusing to drink any water for several consecutive days so I don’t gain ‘water weight’ may possibly be indicators of an eating disorder.

I still feel bad saying anything since I’m so terrified of self-diagnosing and being told I’m just attention seeking again which is why even after all this time it’s so damn hard to admit that I’m probably depressed. I can work with tangible things that I know for a fact such as that at this point I cut myself almost every day, and I can sleep for 12 hours a night and still feel exhausted in my bones, and that I hate my body so damn much that I have to shower with my eyes closed or end up clawing at my skin, and that I spend hours and hours obsessing over the thought of killing myself and planning how to do it and going as far as to stockpile pills so I could overdose, only being stopped by the fact that when I googled to see if I had enough to kill me I found out that it would’ve taken several days to actually end things so that ruled overdose out. And I live in a city so that ruled jumping off a bridge out since I’d definitely be caught. I don’t know what to do anymore.

Another part of the issue is The Trans™️Thing™️. Because yes a lot of my issues stem from my crippling dysphoria. And that’s not a thing I can change. My family is transphobic so I can’t come out. I can’t transition. I’m going to be stuck in this goddman fucking body til the day I die. And I can’t fucking cope with that. And I haven’t been coping with that for a very, very, very long time.

Therapy can’t help me. I already know the ins and outs of why I feel so shit all the time. No amount of bloody alternative thinking can change things. Which only leaves medication which my parents have expressely forbidden me to take. Any medication. Literally. Any. Yes including birth control. No they are not religious, just fucking crazy and think that any issue I have (including any colds/flu/normal illness) are just me exaggerating and will get better by themselves (reason why I had a veruca for four years even though they are very easily treatable).

And yes I’m nineteen now and don’t need parental permission for my health care but they also search through all my stuff in my room whenever I’m not there and I can’t just,, not take meds home during uni breaks since that would probably fuck me up even more. But also yeah I’m a nineteen year old guy not a thirteen year old girl anymore. Honestly I feel embarrassed that it’s gone on this long. All my high school friends got better, so why can’t I?

But yeah so why should I stay alive? What’s the fucking point? My issues are going to be with my til the day I fucking die whether that’s by my own hand or something else. This isn’t a short term issue that can be fixed this is it for me. This is my lot in life and I’m absolutely fucking sick of it. So why can’t I just die?

#tw #trigger warning #tw self harm #tw suicide #tw eating disorder

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elesianne · 4 years

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A Silmarillion fanfic, chapter four of seven – Carnistir/Tuilindien

Chapter length: ~1,500 words; Story rating: Teenage audiences

Some keywords for the whole fic: romance, marriage, family, some fluff, some angst, implied sex, years of the trees

A/N: A less happy chapter. There are bad days in every relationship.

In this chapter, near the end, there are some lines from the lyrics from The Amazing Devil's exquisite love song Fair where the title of this fic is also from.

AO3 LINK

Chapter IV // Stormy days

There are stormy days, too, in between the days of bliss and comfort.

Literal autumn storms, which force Tuilindien to stay inside instead of spending love in her beloved orchard, are more common here in Tirion than on Taniquetil. On the slopes of the holy mountain Manwë's benevolence protects Ingwë's court from the harshest of his winds.

And there are the kind of storms that rage inside Carnistir.

Most of the time he can control them, and Tuilindien knows that he works hard to do so. He comes home late after clearing his head elsewhere, or expends his rage and energy by chopping firewood even though they have servants who would do it, or he goes to his study after a gruff apology and sits there in silence as the light around him mingles and changes. And when he does come to Tuilindien, the storm is mostly cleared, the rough waters of his mind not too difficult for the two of them to navigate.

But sometimes he comes home irritated and only grows more so as the evening goes on, and Tuilindien tires of being careful with him and grows quiet. And though he usually would, he does not notice, too preoccupied with his own vexations.

And then he snaps about something over dinner, about something which is not even her fault or in her control, and Tuilindien lays down her knife and fork, and says, her voice shaking in that way that she despises, 'If you are going to be like that tonight, Carnistir, I will cut this meal short and go visit Parmandil.'

He stops and stares at her and snarls, 'It's too late for visiting.'

'It's too angry here.'

Silence, and shame in their connection that both of them have tried their best to close.

'I didn't even shout', Carnistir says after a tense minute.

Tuilindien's knuckles are white from grasping her skirt. She cannot look at him when he says things like that, things that bring into too bright a light what he is used to, what are his standards for 'too angry' – or what they used to be anyway, and still bleed through.

'I am not going to wait here until you do.' She stands up, fully intending to leave. To go to her friend Parmandil's house or, if she is not home, to – to Indis, or to their own stables to sit down in a pile of straw and let Mirwannë snuffle at her. Anywhere but here.

Yet she tarries, moves slowly as if in an unwanted dream as she gathers her skirts in her hands and pushes her chair back.

More silence and shame from her husband on the other side of the table. And then the scraping of another pushed back violently.

'Stay', Carnistir says. 'I will go out and come back when I won't hurt you. I wouldn't mean to do it –'

'I know', she says, because she does.

'– But I might. I am sorry.'

And he is, he always is, but she still cannot breathe with all that anger in the air, choking and poisonous, only more so when it is directed at himself. She knew this about him when she promised herself to him, and she accepted it as part of him, but that does not mean she has to breathe in the same air as him when it is clouded by rage.

So she lets him leave, grateful that she doesn't have to be the one to go. He has many more places to go than her.

He has to walk to her side of the table to get out of the room. He comes close to her, not touching, and hesitates.

'I argued with Ontamo and was still angry about that when I came home', he admits gruffly. 'I'll go see him and resolve things with him. It was not fair of me to bring the argument home.'

'No', Tuilindien agrees, with as little accusation as she can. It is not very little. Her day had been good, and she'd looked forward to the time with him in the evening. 'Please don't come home when you are like that. No, do come home, always, it is your home too, but do not come at me with your anger when I am not even its cause.'

'I won't.' There is so light a touch to her arm that Tuilindien is not sure if she imagined it, and then it is gone, and so is Carnistir.

Tuilindien sits back down and leans back in her chair and drinks a glass of wine. She has no appetite for food.

So he fought with Ontamo, she thinks as she stares at Carnistir's half-eaten meal on the other side of the table.

Ontamo is Carnistir's closest friend, Tuilindien assumes, though Carnistir has never explicitly said so. He appears to be the only one who is not a family friend – most of Carnistir's friends are also friends of one or more of Carnistir's brothers. Carnistir and Ontamo were apprentices to the same stone-smith when they were only boys, and forged a bond during that time, Tuilindien has gathered. It is a bond that has weathered many disagreements over the years.

She hopes it will weather this one too.

When the light in the dining room begins to turn rather silver, and her glass of wine is empty, Tuilindien goes to get a cloak so she can wander in the garden in the cooling evening air.

There are few flowers in bloom now, the garden settling into winter's rest. Only lavaraldar trees still carry their pale flowers. Tuilindien has always loved these trees for their resilience even in the midst of winter. They rest for a short while, and then they bloom again, filling the air with their faint, sweet scent that brings restfulness.

She stands for a long time among the trees, doing little more than inhaling deeply.

She wonders if Carnistir is doing something similar, or if he is yelling at the top of his lungs.

Tuilindien is slipping into bed when he comes home. She has brought a book to the bedroom, which she rarely does since books tend not to get read there, but she leaves it on the nightstand and sits back against the headboard as she watches Carnistir strip himself in brisk movements that do not look too angry.

She can feel little from him besides shame, again. She is tired of it.

'Are you feeling better now?' she asks.

'Yes.' He yanks his undertunic up and over his head, and tosses it on the floor. Then he grimaces, bends down to pick the tunic up and places it neatly on the chair where he leaves his clothes every night.

'It was a stupid misunderstanding', he says. 'But I am quick to anger, and he is quick to indignation when his ideas are not appreciated, so we both got into a huff and parted when we should have kept talking.'

'I am glad that Ontamo and you cleared the air', Tuilindien replies carefully. 'I know that he is important to you.'

Carnistir sighs and sits down on the side of the bed. Tuilindien notices that he places himself so that he doesn't touch her. She feels the heat of him on her skin anyway, and misses it.

'He is', Carnistir says. 'Most of the time he is the best person to discuss my ideas with and to work alongside, whether on a shared project or on our own projects. He is less demanding than my father and less sarcastic than Curufinwë. But we both have a short temper and sometimes they flare at the same time and then we cannot just laugh it off.'

'Things are well now, though?' She doesn't mean only things with Ontamo.

They look at each other, properly in the eyes, for the first time since Carnistir came home with a dark cloud in his spirit.

'I will likely be half-grumpy for a while yet but things are well if my most beloved vanimelda is well', he says. 'Tuilë, I am sorry –'

She cannot help but say, 'I am tired of apologies. I always forgive you anyway. You did not mean to hurt me and you barely did before you left and gave me the space of our home.'

'You have fewer places that you could go here in Tirion', he says, and at that she opens her arms and welcomes him back to her, like she knows she always will, because she loves him beoynd reason and beoynd her understanding of herself and beoynd the borders of the world, though it is impossible. Beoynd the stars into darkness.

She brushes her hand through his hair as he clings to her, his frantic heartbeat calming down against her chest, and she thinks again, it is not fair how unreasonably in love I am with you, and, it is not fair how much I love you even when you make me ache.

Perhaps she thinks that at him, having unconsciously opened herself up to him again, because he mumbles into her hair, 'I love you to irrationality and back. I'll always come back to you and this home that we've created.'

A/N: Please note that I never claimed to write only healthy relationships. Tuilindien and Carnistir SHOULD not be taken as a model of what is good or acceptable in a marriage.

The next chapter includes a prompt fill for Alkarinque that I have previously posted on Tumblr, but I've added a lot to it. In the chapter, Carnistir and Tuilindien go on a journey. I'll update on Thursday.

As always, I appreciate and am delighted by reblogs and comments.

#silmarillion fanfiction #tolkien fanfiction #caranthir #caranthir's wife #tuilindien #your spirit calling out to mine #this life that we've created #my fics #elesianne's fics

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ofelvie · 4 years

Text

joe keery. cis male. he/him. ／ elvie croft just pulled up blasting spooky boy by danny gonzalez — that song is so them ! you know, for a twenty - four year old youtuber, i’ve heard they’re really scatterbrained, but that they make up for it by being so loyal. if i had to choose three things to describe them, i’d probably say 80s horror, buckets of halloween candy, and blurry photographs of mysterious figures in the woods. here’s to hoping they don’t cause too much trouble ! ( sam, 23, est, she/her )

hey there demons! *ba dum tss* my name is sam and i’ll be writing elvie, a brilliant harvard law graduate who threw away any shred of credibility he ever had in order to make silly videos on the internet. more info under the cut. feel free to message me if you would like to plot!

i. stats

𝖋𝖚𝖑𝖑 𝖓𝖆𝖒𝖊: elvin tupelo croft

𝖕𝖗𝖊𝖋𝖊𝖗𝖗𝖊𝖉 𝖓𝖆𝖒𝖊𝖘: el, elvie, the ghost guy

𝖍𝖔𝖒𝖊𝖙𝖔𝖜𝖓: salem, massachusetts

𝖉𝖆𝖙𝖊 𝖔𝖋 𝖇𝖎𝖗𝖙𝖍: october 31, 1995

𝖟𝖔𝖉𝖎𝖆𝖈: scorpio

𝖔𝖗𝖎𝖊𝖓𝖙𝖆𝖙𝖎𝖔𝖓: demisexual

𝖔𝖈𝖈𝖚𝖕𝖆𝖙𝖎𝖔𝖓: lawyer youtuber

𝖕𝖔𝖘. 𝖙𝖗𝖆𝖎𝖙𝖘: loyal, open - minded, exuberant.

𝖓𝖊𝖌. 𝖙𝖗𝖆𝖎𝖙𝖘: scatterbrained, obstreperous, impulsive.

𝖎𝖓𝖘𝖕𝖎𝖗𝖊𝖉 𝖇𝖞: shawn spencer, psych ; fox mulder, the x files ; stiles stilinski, teen wolf.

ii. history

elvin tupelo “elvie” croft was born in salem, massachusetts ( yes, really ) on halloween day ( yes, really ). an only child, his father is the district attorney for essex county, massachusetts while his mother owns a store in town that sells witchcraft supplies such as crystals, herbs, grimiores, etc. fun fact: she’s the descendant of an accused witch, meaning that elvie is as well.

as it turns out, beneath of the surface of the few tourist attractions that it has to offer, salem has a small town, stuck in the past vibe. it’s the sort of place where everyone knows everyone all their lives because no one ever leaves and no one ever moves in. he grew up in this...eccentric...environment, living in the same house all his life and only ever leaving to visit his grandparents in boston.

he was five years old when he saw his first horror movie ( an apathetic teenage babysitter let him stay up long past his bedtime to watch nightmare on elm street ) and from that moment on he was HOOKED.

when he started school, two things about him became apparent: 1) he was highly intelligent and 2) he struggled greatly with tasks such as sitting still and staying focused. he was tested, and it turns out that he has a through the roof genius level iq and he also has adhd, which he was put on a few different medications for until something finally seemed to work for him.

he could have been one of those child prodigies who finished high school at the age of ten and then college at the age of fourteen, BUT his parents decided that they didn’t want him to miss out on the experience of going through school with people his own age.

as the smartest kid in class with glasses and braces and an insatiable obsession with all things horror and halloween, he…was picked on. mercilessly.

so, he didn’t really have any friends...............................at all.................................but he didn’t mind. he was perfectly content to go right home after school and spend the rest of the day reading comic books or watching horror movies or researching local urban legends and paranormal stories.

he started his youtube channel when he was a teenager and it was…trash honestly. it was basically buzzfeed unsolved if buzzfeed unsolved consisted of one ( 1 ) dorky teenager yelling at the air in the middle of abandoned house at 3am, but it turned out that people found it entertaining. his first few videos were flops, but he would soon start amassing subscribers in the hundreds, then thousands, then hundreds of thousands.

so, when he got to his senior year of high school, he was a shoe - in to be named class valedictorian ( he was ) and he was even getting ivy league offers. at the same time, his youtube channel was starting to gain momentum. his parents mainly his father were really pushing him to attend college and elvie, genius level iq and all…didn’t want to go. he wanted to focus on his youtube channel, but his dad was absolutely not having it.

he attended harvard for both his pre law and law school studies, breezed through classes, graduated with honors at the top of his class and once he passed the bar exam there were countless job offers waiting for him. elvie ignored them all and moved to los angeles so that he could finally focus on his youtube channel.

it’s been almost two years since he moved and he likes it in california!

iii. extras

his name is elvin but basically no one ever calls him that. his own parents don’t even particularly like the name. long story. most people call him elvie and some who are super close to him just call him el.

while he is the “ryan” aka the believer of his youtube series, he’s definitely NOT a scaredy cat like ryan the poor guy. in fact, all his life there’s been this running joke that HE DOESN’T SEEM TO BE SCARED OF ANYTHING, and who knows? maybe he isn’t.

has the most cartoonishly exaggerated boston accent that one could ever hope to hear, except he doesn’t seem to realize it at all.

10/31 blaze it he’s a HUGE stoner.

he’s got jokes. stay vigilant.

he’s OBSESSED with all things horror, halloween, and 80s. he makes a lot of film references that are often so obscure that most people don’t even catch them.

he is legally permitted to practice law in the states of massachusetts and california, so basically: he’s a lawyer! however, this is not at all common knowledge because...

most people don’t know how smart he actually is because he intentionally plays dumb and he’s really good at it. being high all the time and his natural chaotic energy is quite helpful in hiding his intelligence. he just doesn’t like to be seen as smart, so the whole once - brilliant law student thing? not common knowledge whatsoever. he tries not to mention the college he attended by name at all, but if he has to then he lies and says that he went to salem state.

and yes, he has SO MUCH chaotic energy. he’s the kind of person who will stick a fork in his microwave just to see what would happen out of sheer boredom. he has two pet mexican redknee tarantulas that probably aren’t even allowed on campus named freddy and jason who he just…fucking loses track of every other day. his favorite drink is literally black coffee mixed together with a can of monster energy and 5 ( f i v e ) teaspoons of sugar. he is c h a o s. he has absolutely NO IMPULSE CONTROL whatsoever.

he has slight Daddy Issues™. slight. when he was born, his dad was hoping that he would get a star athlete kid who would go on to follow in his footsteps and one day become a successful, respectable lawyer but instead he got…elvie. he’s never outright said that he’s disappointed but he didn’t need to. elvie’s a really difficult person to rattle but every time, without fail, he ends a phone call with his dad and he’s in a bad mood for the rest of the day.

his car is this PIECE OF JUNK giant turquoise van that he painted to look like the mystery machine. her name is laurie strode.

even though he makes constant pop culture references about horror movies and the 80s, but outside of those areas he’s completely clueless about pop culture. like, he can recite the entire scripts of the shining and empire strikes back and ferris bueller’s day off word for word, but if someone tried to talk to him about the new post malone song or the latest marvel movie he would just stare blankly.

he has a HUGE sweet tooth. his favorite food is halloween candy and his favorite candy is black licorice disgusting i know.

he takes adderall for his adhd and he’s usually good about keeping up with it. started keeping them on his person in college because he realized that his meds were getting stolen and it’s a habit he's held onto that doesn’t really keep his shit from getting stolen.

.he’s good at…A LOT of things because he’s a really fast learner. he can play the guitar, he can draw, he did drama in high school. he just has to watch someone do something once and then he can usually immediately do it himself. this skill doesn’t extend to physical activities such as sports, however. he’s terrible at those.

he’s basically a cartoon character

iv. wanted connections

friends

cousin ( their grandparents would probably be from boston but otherwise anything really goes for this )

his weed dealer lmao

smoking buddies

people who don’t like him / find him annoying

has stolen his adderall

maybe someone who knows how smart he really is

exes and flings

( these are just ideas and i’m trash at coming up with these, so please don’t feel limited by what’s listed here. )

#excess:intro #drugs tw #medication tw #that one picture of oscar isaac.jpeg

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iphoenixrising · 5 years

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For 800 Followers! Broken Trust: Continued

So. SO. The original Broken Trust was pretty traumatic, but I got so many wonderful comments on the post that I did write a second part. Just a warning tho, the previous part to the story contained a suicide attempt. Here’s the aftermath.

A bit of a warning: one of my babes cried when she read this. It will hit your feels.

Raven and Gar stand behind Cassie when they firmly tell the Batfamily no, none of them can come to the Tower right now.

Nightwing and the Red Hood exchange a look while B is the usual silent and stoic, the darkness of the Cave behind them.

“Wonder Girl,” N hold up placating hands palms up, noticing the way Gar doesn’t look directly at the camera, and Rave is almost completely hidden by her cloak. He gets the impression of things not good. “We only heard Red Robin is in critical condition! Can you tell us anything about what happened if at least one of us can’t come see him?”

The family of detectives can pick out all the tells.

“My hands are tied until he wakes up,” the de-facto leader of the Titans goes with, as diplomatically as possible, “right now he’s being monitored twenty-four seven while he’s comatose–”

Because Kon and Bart won’t leave him alone for a second.

“–and we’re taking care of him–”

As we have been since he finally called out to us for the fun time against the League of Assassins in Gotham.

“–I’ll keep you updated with the latest news.”

“Comatose?” All three Bats on the screen echo with different pitches to their voices.

The sigh coming out of her is just on the edge of her patience.

“How?” Dick chokes out, “what the hell happened to him?”

Cassie just stares back, lips pursed.

“That ain’t good ‘nough, y’ feel me here?” The Red Hood’s helmet is turned toward the screen, arms crossed over his chest, “Baby Bird’s a Bat first n’ foremost–”

“Not in the last few years,” Cassie counters gently, firmly, “and the last instructions he gave us? Back when there were assassins all over your city? It was to keep the Bats out of his business. I’m only calling because–”

The Batman holds up a hand, “Wonder Girl, I’m grateful you did. But. I’m still Tim’s mentor and the only legal family he has. I’m asking you, please at least let me in the Tower to see him.”

“Batman,” and she massages the bridge of her nose, “I can’t. Not until he wakes up and tells me what he wants. I’m sorry, but I can’t.”

She looks at the screen again, “please don’t try to force this. Gar’s family still owns Titans Tower, and I will authorize the security system to activate if you try anything. If–” her breath hitches, “when Tim wakes up, I’ll let you know.”

Gar finally seems to be able to move, stepping around Cassie to grin half-heartedly down at the camera. “You heard it from here. We’ll keep in touch. Tower, outtie.” And flips the button to cut the feed.

The monitor beeps steadily, the only comforting thing in the room.

Kon doesn’t need the soft noise to assure himself Tim is still alive.

He can hear it through his Robin’s chest.

For the last seventy-odd hours, he’s been sitting, laying, floating right in this spot next to the medical bed where his best friend is stretched out, comatose. He’s only takes short breaks to run to the bathroom.

The team keeps close tabs on them, bringing him food, someone always trying to stop by and stick around to keep him company.

(He knows what they’re trying to do.)

Food makes appearances and things get tucked away in the niches of the room. Tablets, books, a half-done knitting project, old school Playstation hooked up to the television, origami cranes all over the place.

The team is worried about both of them, and Kon still hadn’t told everyone what really happened out there, how he came to be flying madly in the Tower, sobbing while he carried Tim’s body, limp and still, blood everywhere. They’re worried because Kon’s been exhibiting signs of shock, white as a ghost, and quietly crying while Raven, BB, Cassie, and Miguel sprinted into action, getting their former Robin into the medical bay and working fast to try saving his life.

Kid Flash had watched from behind his working teammates, holding Kon tightly in both arms to keep the super on his feet, eyes wide when he catches glimpses of Tim’s slack, white face, blood on the pillow, on gloved hands, making everything more red than the old Robin tunic.

Since then, Kon’s been a wreck, unable to talk about it without breaking down, his immeasurable strength utterly useless in the face of whatever had happened to Tim.

(Raven and Gar went into the Safe Room of the Tower to talk it out, wondering if Luthor had some tech still hidden in their Superboy, if it was just like the time he’d broken Tim’s arm–)

So, the Titans absolutely close ranks, stay on edge, monitoring, waiting, watching, trying to be there for their teammate, trying to console him when Kon admitted he couldn’t stop Tim in time, he couldn’t stop him, didn’t know what he was going to do until it was too fucking late–

It’s enough to put the pieces together without forcing Superboy to come out and say it directly, keeping the pressure in the room for if...when Tim finally woke up.

New Protocols start appearing in the database the very next hour.

When he comes to, his mouth is so dry and his head is killing him.

Seriously.

The familiar room in the Tower’s Med Bay is soothing at least, not like he wants to be caught by the Joker right now or anything because that? Would not be conducive to Good Morning, Robin.

His senses gradually come back online, and turning his head on the pillow is just short of agonizing.

Conner Kent, Superboy, is sitting by the bed, head in his hands, shoulders shaking gently and Tim Drake’s eyes go wide, all the pain in his head forgotten when he sees his Superboy look up with red, watery eyes.

Tim shoots up in bed, can’t look away, can’t focus on the pain rolling down his spine with the movement.

“Kon?” Is a whisper, a broken sound, “Kon is it really you?”

Because fuck, he’s going to cry too, isn’t he?

(Oh yeah. Yeah, he is.)

“Tim! Oh my God, you’re awake! Tim, you’re awake!” The super barely has enough time to get to his feet before Tim Drake launches himself out of the medical bed, wires and IVs be damned, hurling himself straight at the red S shield against the black t-shirt.

Just like he expects, Conner Kent, Kon-El, Superboy, his best fucking friend–

–catches him.

Kon’s knees give out and they’re on the floor, sobbing against each other, Tim’s arms tight around him, holding on like he thought Kon would disappear the second he let him go, and all Tim is saying sounds vaguely like, “you’re alive, you’re alive! How the hell are you alive?!” where his face is buried in the side of Kon’s throat.

The camera are apparently working just fine because KF is in that room in the two seconds it took for Tim to launch himself out of bed and send the two sprawling all over the floor, ripped out wires all over them.

The speedster, his own eyes wet with relief, is gentle when he kneels next to them, when he touches Kon’s shoulder and lays a hand softly to the center of Tim’s back.

Bart’s mouth opens, ready to say something smarmy to cover up the emotions, something like, “hey, hey. Almost dead guys have to be in bed,” when Tim’s watery eyes are looking up at him and his expression is utterly fucking broken.

“Bart?” Cracks in Tim’s hitching chest, his eyes wide and wet and spilling over, and hands shaking but moving so fast to reach out and grip Bart’s shoulder. “Bart, you...Oh my God, you too! You’re back? You’re alive! You’re both alive.”

He has every intention of leaping up to throw both arms around Kid Flash as well, to bring him down and hold on to both of them forever, but when he tries to stand this time, his legs won’t hold his weight.

It’s only because the two of them are so super that he doesn’t go falling back down to the ground, both muscling a shoulder under his arms, sliding free hands around his waist. This time it’s Tim’s shoulders shaking while he bites down on his lower lip hard and tries to stop his eyes from spilling the fuck over, tries to keep the sobs trapped in the center of his chest where it won’t come out.

(Because he’s Robin, and that shit doesn’t happen…

And yet, here we are.)

He totally fails, and now they’re never going to let him live it down.

Bart darts across the room, viciously slams the intercom and yells for everyone to get to the Med Bay because their bird is awake, and someone needs to come down and put his damn IVs back in!

Then he’s hot-footing it back across the room, sliding on his knees to be right on Tim’s empty side, squirreling both arms under Tim’s since Kon’s is around his shoulders.

“I can’t believe it,” Tim sobs against the side of Kon’s face, wrapped in both of them. “I can’t...I can’t–”

“Tim, my bro,” Bart frees a hand to wipe across his eyes, “that’s our line. For fuck’s sake, you’ve been a coma for days. Do you have any idea how worried everyone is? Cassie is might literally punch you hard enough to break your head open again.”

“After you’re okay,” Kon’s voice is muffled and watery against his shoulder.

“After you’re okay,” Bart parrots back, “you asshole, you stupid, stupid asshole.”

“Asshole,” Kon chokes out, “how could you be so fucking stupid? Why didn’t you call me? Why...why didn’t–”

“You were dead. Both of you were dead, Kon. How could I have–”

And it’s a whoa moment right there.

Something very not crash.

“Tim what are you talking about? We’ve been back almost–”

With a terrible feeling in his gut, Kon cuts right in, “what’s the last thing you remember?”

With wide eyes, the super grabs both of Tim’s shoulders, “Tim. What the last thing you remember?”

“I...I moved to Blüdhaven. Because Steph. Steph...and you and you right after my dad,” He falters, pulling back, being Robin, trying to keep it the hell together.

(But he was literally the only one left standing. Just him and Dick and B, but that still didn’t make it better, didn’t make the pain go away, didn’t fill the void, didn’t bring them back.)

“What?” Kon mumbles, numb, not realizing his grip has gotten tighter and tighter until Tim flinches in his hold and Bart is pushing the center of his chest.

It takes a minute. A very long minute for him to breathe because Kon has such a bad feeling about where this might be going.

It takes Bart just a few more seconds than Kon. “Tim, Stephanie Brown isn’t dead. She’s alive.”

“Wh-what?” And even if his head is starting to hurt again, even if the nausea is building, he can push it all away with that sentence, with someone else he loved apparently alive. “She’s–she’s what now?”

Bart and Kon are looking at him intently from both sides, noticing how his expression crumbles, his shoulders slumping in shock, his eyes are blown wide, and he’s pulling back from them both, looking pale and unsteady.

Unconsciously, they tighten their grips around him, ready to catch, ready to hold him up, ready to be what he needed.

(It’s time to stop running.)

When Cassie slides almost past the door to the Med Bay, beating Gar literally by a hair, the small leopard gets with the program and leaps over her shoulder effortlessly transforming so they come to the three idiots on the floor.

“What the hell are you doing? Why isn’t Tim in bed?”

“Totes pulled out your IVs, man,” Gar tisks at him, the trembly kind of relieved to see one of his besties, a good teammate, a good leader, look up at him again instead of unmoving and unnaturally still. “Rave’s gonna get moody, right? No one wants to see that.”

He and Cassie are gentle, keeping in mind he’s the only one on the team that could get this fucked up and not die, while they get him back to bed.

Their resident supernatural specialist and part-time nurse comes in more serenely than her teammates, eyes warm when she spots Tim’s dazed eyes just watching them reinsert his IV and put patches back on his chest, a tube under his nose.

Looking up at Cassie, sees her I’m relieved you aren’t dead expression and just smiles dopily up at her (he can’t help a flash of awkward because, well, he’d kissed his best friend’s girl – they thought he’d been dead at the time, but...wait, does it still count?). His brain is fuzzy with the crazy emotional rollercoaster since he’d woken up and see his best friends alive, is still reeling a little bit from Steph. It makes him literally itch to get back to Gotham even if he’s sinking further down into the softer-than-it-should-feel medical bed with most the team scrambling around them.

He glances up when he catches Raven injecting something in his IV, smiles at her too.

But, it’s fine. He’s going to stay long enough to let them take care of him because he doesn’t have to go back to Blüdhaven and that shitty hovel he’d been holding up in after things went so, so wrong. Bruce had taken them training, had worked with Dick to bring Tim back from a terrible edge.

The three of them were working better together, and he’s staying at the Manor instead of his...his parent’s house or the Carriage House where he’d passed the heck right out more than once in his tenure as Robin.

Things are finally better.

And now? Now that he’s got Conner and Bart back, now that he can head back to Gotham and Steph...his Steph will be alive–

He’ll have cases to work and school to eventually go back to, or at least the GED test to take. He’ll have Gotham, dirty and dingy, corrupt and cold and cruel while being a beacon to the best and brightest and the dreamers and the innocent. He’ll have the Cave and his room down the hall from Bruce. He’ll sign the paperwork to change his last name–

(Drake-Wayne, who would have thought?)

–and try to make friends with Damian, again.

When it gets too much, he can come back to the New Teen Titans, and work it out with his team.

Life? Life is finally going his way.

(And if he doesn’t remember anything from before clearly enough to explain how he got hurt, well, that’ll wait until he wakes up.)

*Note: I imagine Tim’s memory is stuck on the One Year Later arc where after Tim, Bruce, and Dick went on some kind of training journey and afterwards, he comes back to reform the New Teen Titans, Cass is in the wind, probably not even Black Bat yet, and he’s sporting a red and black suit. It’s after he tried to clone Bart and Kon? I’m a little fuzzy on how the events fall, so I’m pretty much making it up as I go along :D

#winter answers #800 followers #broken trust #tim drake #conner kent #bart allen #DC comics #my drabble #my writing

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