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grapesodatozier · 4 years

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Anything You Want

a fic for @heterophobicrichietozier !! thank you so much for requesting this fic!!

rating: explicit

words: 7.5k

tags/warnings: sugar daddy au, domtop!richie, subbottom!eddie, daddy kink, age gap, marking (hickeys), degradation and praise, porn with feelings, mentions of sonia’s abuse

notsfw below the cut!!

Eddie Kaspbrak was running short on both money and patience. He was only just over a month into his second year of nursing school, and he was already struggling to pay his rent. And sure, rent in New York City was never easy to pay, but he’d been saving, he’d had a plan. The problem was that pretty much all of his money had unexpectedly gone toward his tuition when his mother had refused to pay for a second year at school.

At eighteen, Eddie had left his small hometown in Maine and moved to New York City to start college. He had just barely convinced his mother to let him go, and to help with his tuition as long as he covered his own rent. He was required to call her four nights a week, and he had to go back on the “medicines” he’d disavowed around age fifteen (all of which he routinely flushed down the toilet), but the physical distance had been amazing—at first. Soon, though, it wasn’t enough, and his mom started demanding he call her every night, accusing him of being reckless and taking advantage of her. When he’d told her he wasn’t coming home for the summer, she’d exploded into hysterics, crying and telling him he had to come home. It was when she began rambling on about how Eddie was probably running around with dirty New York City girls and catching all sorts of horrific sexual diseases, demanding that he come home so that she could keep an eye on him and find him a nice girl when she decided he was ready for one, that Eddie had snapped. Though it had been the result of years of pent up frustration and rage, he had stayed calm as he told her that he wasn’t missing her calls because of girls, but because of guys—because he spent his weekends getting fucked by men. “Sorry Ma,” he’d said, his voice cool as steel and even as could be, “but I can’t really pick up the phone when I’ve got some guy’s cock inside of me.” It wasn’t exactly the coming out his friends Bill, Ben, and Mike had been gently running by him, but he was angry, and it had felt good; he figured she’d have had the same reaction no matter how he said it, so what the hell, right?

Still, it stung when she’d told him she wasn’t paying for his college anymore. He hadn’t really believed her at first, as she was still hounding him about his sins and how he needed to come home, but sure enough, when emails about tuition began rolling around, they all went to his school email and explained that his name was the only one on his account, that his mother had bestowed the loans onto him and given up the account. Eddie nearly vomited when he’d received that email. As soon as the room stopped spinning, he blocked his mother’s number.

He already had a job for the summer tied down, but it was just an internship level position filing in a medical office, and it was only four days a week; there was no way it would cover tuition and rent and food, among other expenses. So he was forced to take on a second job as a waiter at a new restaurant a few blocks away from his apartment, then a third job working at a mechanic shop on Fridays and Saturdays. On top of all of that work, he had to completely redo his FAFSA and reapply for loans given his new financial circumstances. His school and the government did give him a bit more, but not enough to drop any of his jobs.

By the time classes rolled around, he had paid his tuition for the semester, but he’d had to dip into money he’d been saving for rent. Now, in early October, he was still working Fridays and Saturdays at the garage and was waiting tables Mondays, Wednesdays, Fridays, and Saturdays. He had a night shift shadowing a nurse on Tuesdays, which left Thursdays and Sundays as his only free nights, nights which he largely spent doing homework. All of this work, and he had still been eating Cup Noodles for the past two weeks.

It was a Friday night, and everything had been going wrong. In the middle of his shift at the garage, he’d gotten a notification from his school’s site informing him that he’d gotten a C on his most recent test, one he’d lost sleep over studying. Then work at the garage had run over and he barely had time to eat dinner before making it to the restaurant in time. He was tired and upset and feeling badly about himself, not to mention missing a party all of his friends were going to, so all it took was one baby boomer yelling at him over a mixed up order for him to excuse himself to the back room and start bawling. Thankfully, his manager seemed to be understanding and let him cool off. “I’ll take that table until they leave,” she told him, to his immense relief and gratitude. By the time she came back to check on him he had calmed down considerably and was staring into the mirror in the break room trying fruitlessly to pat down the puffiness around his eyes, trying to will away the redness that lingered. “Hey,” his manager said, “you wanna take table four?” Eddie sighed and nodded, trying out a smile. “Atta boy.”

He took a deep, steadying breath before heading out for his new table. His eyes fell on a table of three: a woman with dark red curls that fell to her shoulders, a man with truly impeccable posture, and the hottest man Eddie had ever seen in his life. And he was unabashedly looking Eddie up and down from behind a pair of thick rimmed glasses as he approached. “Hi!” Eddie greeted them, his big, bright customer service smile finding its way onto his face like it was possessing him. “I’m Eddie, and I’ll be your server tonight. Can I get you guys started with some drinks?”

“You got me started already,” the hot guy said. Then, meeting Eddie’s eyes, his brow furrowed. “Have you been crying?”

Luckily, Eddie didn’t have to respond to that, as the guy’s much more refined friend chimed in, “I’ll have a gin and tonic, please,” just as the redheaded woman was letting out an exasperated, “Richie, oh my god.”

“One gin and tonic,” Eddie smiled, his cheeks burning. “Anything else?”

“Could I have a martini, please?” the woman smiled kindly up at him.

“Martini, got it.” As he jotted it down, he prepared himself to face the hot guy—Richie, apparently. When he did, he was struck by the depth of his blue eyes. He was surprised by how warm they were, and they glittered as he smiled up at Eddie. “And for you?”

“What do you like?”

“Oh, I’m not old enough to drink,” Eddie flushed, letting out a small laugh. With a joking smile, he added, “The Shirley Temples are great, though.”

Richie laughed, his eyes never leaving Eddie. “A Shirley Temple it is.”

Eddie’s gaze didn’t waver either, and he put on his best innocent, big-brown-eyes look as he asked, “Virgin or dirty?” He had to fight back a smirk when he saw Richie’s eyes darken.

“Dirty.” The way he said it sent a thrill down Eddie’s spine. “Pretty please, with three cherries on top.”

“You got it,” Eddie said with a wink. Though the day was still weighing on him, he was beginning to feel better already. He might have even swayed his hips a little more than necessary as he walked away. He told himself it was because he could tell this Richie guy was into him, so he was aiming for a nice tip, but really Eddie loved the attention itself. With his schedule, he no longer had time for the hookups he spent his freshman year indulging in. So he couldn’t be blamed for preening under the attention of a hot older guy. Honestly, it was the pick me up he’d been needing for months.

The night went on, all three of them being incredibly kind to him, with Richie throwing in not at all subtle flirtations any chance he got. Eddie didn’t miss the three knotted cherry stems on Richie’s napkin when he brought their food and offered to refill their drinks.

He was almost sad to see Richie go, but he was grateful for the small smile he had on his face as he went to collect his tip and clear the table. At first he went to simply slip the cash into his pocket, but then he realized there was a note on the napkin beneath it: a name, Richie Tozier, with a phone number under it. It was then that Eddie realized he was holding five hundred dollars in his hand. He quickly stuffed it in his pocket, an embarrassed flush running from his ears down his chest as he hurried to clear the dirty dishes and bring them back to the kitchen.

The cash burned a hole in his pocket all night, all the way home. What the fuck? he thought to himself. Because seriously, who leaves a five hundred dollar tip on a meal that was barely over a hundred? Eddie locked his apartment door and placed the money on his dresser, staring at it. Five one hundred dollar bills. Who carried that around? What if they were counterfeit? Eddie pulled out the napkin and studied that as well, deciding to Google the name Richie Tozier. His jaw dropped when he did. There his face was, with his big glasses, cocky smile, and fluffy, dark curls. Apparently the guy was on SNL and had two Netflix comedy specials. He was also twenty-eight, nearly ten years older than Eddie. His net worth? Five million dollars.

Eddie sat down on his bed, his mind spinning. The place Eddie worked was nice enough, but it wasn’t exactly frequented by millionaires. Still in his work clothes, he dialed the number, figuring there was no way it would go through.

He picked up on the third ring.

“Hello?”

It was his voice. “What the fuck?” Eddie blurted out.

He heard a bright laugh on the other end. “Is this Eddie?”

“Yeah, it is, and seriously, what the hell? Five hundred dollars?”

“You looked upset,” Richie said. He sounded like he was trying to be nonchalant about it, but his voice had softened noticeably.

“So you gave a stranger five hundred dollars?” Eddie was honestly more confused than upset. Sure, maybe his pride was a little bruised, but to be honest he was touched. And kind of turned on.

“Just redistributing my wealth,” Richie joked. “I’ve got more than I know what to do with, so I figured giving it to a pretty boy who was having a bad day was a pretty good way to spend it.” Eddie flushed at that—pretty boy. The way Richie said it, so casually, yet with a joking tone that made it almost teasing, had Eddie’s pants getting tight. When Eddie stayed silent, Richie continued, “There’s more for you where that came from, if you’re interested.”

“What?” Eddie said, blood rushing in his ears. Was this guy serious? Was this actually happening?

“I’d be happy to help you out if you need it. A college kid like you should be partying on a Saturday night, or taking a fucking nap, not crying at a minimum wage job.”

“Like a sugar daddy?”

Richie laughed. Eddie loved the sound of it. “Yeah, like a sugar daddy, baby.” The pet name made Eddie shudder, made him feel like he was glowing. But still, he didn’t want this guy getting ideas.

“I’m not gonna have sex with you.” Even as he said it, his cock was hard, and the memory of the way Richie had been flirting with him made his skin hot. But he wanted to make explicitly clear that he wasn’t into selling himself.

“That’s not why I’m offering. Seriously, I just wanna help you out. And sure, maybe you’re ridiculously cute, and maybe I want to get to know you, but mostly I wanna help you out. Pay for your rent, give you time to study and party and be a college student.”

And how could Eddie turn that down? As much as he was struggling with it, with his pride and the stranger danger anxiety that his mother had ingrained in him, he seriously doubted that a hot millionaire would come around again offering to pay his rent.

So Eddie agreed, and soon he was sending Richie his Venmo information. Two minutes later his phone screen glowed with a notification: Richie Tozier sent you $2,000.

It had been hard to get used to at first, but cutting his work schedule down to just Monday and Wednesday nights at the restaurant and just Friday afternoons at the garage felt amazing. He finally felt rested, could finally give his schoolwork the attention it needed.

“You know, you really don’t need to work at all if you don’t want to,” Richie told him one night when they were having dinner together.

“I know,” Eddie said to his food, “but I like the independence of it. And working with cars calms me down, it makes sense to me.” He didn’t mention the real reason he kept both jobs: the big Just In Case that loomed over him. This seemed like a fairy tale situation, like an extended, intricate prank, and he was terrified that something would go wrong. He wanted to be prepared if Richie suddenly pulled out for some reason.

However, as the months passed it became pretty clear that even without sex Richie wasn’t going anywhere. And that started complicating things.

It was late in December, which meant finals and holidays, which meant lots of stress. It was the first Christmas Eddie wouldn’t be spending at home, and that made him feel sad in a way he didn’t understand; he was incredibly happy to be free of his mother, but there was something so final about it. He supposed it was still a loss, even if it was a welcome one. On top of that, his days were plagued by the anxiety that she might get a new number, might start calling him again, might show up at his door and whisk him back to Maine. So it was just negativity on top of worrying on top of sadness. Under all this stress, he found himself spending more and more time at Richie’s apartment, more and more time talking to Richie, wanting to get close to him.

So far, things had been pretty professional. They got meals together once or twice a week, often in Richie’s apartment due to fans of his popping up everywhere wanting pictures. Mostly they hung out because Eddie liked it; Richie was always reminding Eddie that he didn’t owe Richie anything, but Eddie genuinely liked his company.

Also, he was still ridiculously hot, and he fawned over Eddie like he was the one getting paid.

Seriously, Richie was so amazing to him, it wasn’t just the money. When someone at work pissed him off, Richie put on one of Eddie’s favorite shows and offered to hire some people to beat up whatever asshole customer had yelled at him. When Eddie complained that the construction outside his apartment was affecting his studying, Richie let him study in his apartment, and even brought him hot chocolate and rubbed his shoulders.

Now it was a Thursday, and Eddie had finished his last final. He had just gotten home from saying goodbye to Bill, Mike, and Ben for winter break when Richie called. Like always, the loneliness that was threatening to creep over him began to ebb as soon as he heard Richie’s voice. “Hey! How’d your test go? We still on for dinner to celebrate?”

Eddie appreciated the offer, but a fancy dinner wasn’t what he wanted just then. “Can we do dinner at your place tonight?” he asked, his voice worn and small.

“Of course, anything you want.”

Richie’s driver picked Eddie up, so he didn’t actually see Richie until he was knocking at his door and falling into his arms. Richie, with his roughly nine or ten inch height advantage over Eddie, easily scooped him up and brought him to the couch. “So would it be tone deaf of me to ask how the exam went?” Richie grinned, settling down with Eddie resting against him. Eddie tucked his feet under his legs as he leaned into Richie’s embrace, finding the relief he’d been needing all day once Richie’s arms were around him.

“The exam went okay,” he sighed. “But Bill, Ben, and Mike all went home today, and I won’t see them for like a month.”

Richie shifted so he was leaning against the arm of the couch, facing Eddie. Eddie naturally moved closer, like a magnet was pulling him toward Richie, and he ended up practically in Richie’s lap. He let out a small, happy sigh as Richie stroked his hair. “I could send you on a trip somewhere, take your mind off of it.”

But it wasn’t just the location that was the problem. Sure, he wanted something to do, but mostly he wanted someone to do things with. A specific someone, if he was being honest with himself.

Eddie looked down and ran his hand lightly over the stitching on the pocket of Richie’s button up. It was covered in a Pac-Man pattern, but Eddie knew it was more formal than his normal look. The idea that Richie had dressed up somewhat for dinner with him made him smile. And it should have calmed him down as he prepared to ask Richie his next question, but his heart was still racing as he took a deep breath and looked up into Richie’s eyes. “Will you come with me?”

Richie’s eyes widened just barely before a smile broke across his face. “You thought I’d miss out on buying you souvenirs?”

Eddie beamed. Richie looked so beautiful when he smiled, and his hand was a comforting weight on Eddie’s hip. The thought of travelling with Richie, of sharing a hotel room with him—sharing a bed with him—made Eddie glow. “Did you have any destination in mind?” he asked.

“Anywhere you want.”

Richie’s voice was soft and low, Eddie felt like he could melt into it. He ran his hand up Richie’s chest, cupped his cheek, and watched Richie’s eyes dart over Eddie’s face, clearly trying to get a read on the situation. Eddie had been thinking about crossing this line for a while. He’d been holding back for months, and as the months moved by, his hang ups had begun to feel less and less important. Sure, the money made things different. But, did it have to? Did it really? Richie was here. Richie was holding him without expectation. As Eddie watched Richie lick his lips, as he felt Richie’s hands on him, he couldn’t remember a single reason he’d come up with to not dive headfirst into what they both so clearly wanted, what they had both wanted since the moment their eyes met for the first time.

So he leaned in, the tension that had been building for months coming to a head and taking his breath away. But just as their lips were about to come together, Richie murmured a soft, reserved, “Eddie.” Eddie’s heart caught at his tone, and he pulled back a bit, trying to figure out what was going wrong. “You know you don’t have to do that.”

“I want to do it,” Eddie huffed. He was pouting now, and moving to straddle Richie’s hips. “I want you, so bad. I’ve wanted you ever since I met you.” He took Richie’s hand in his and kissed his knuckles. “No one’s ever treated me as well as you do. The way you take care of me, the way you look at me... I’ve never wanted someone this bad before.”

Richie studied Eddie’s face, his eyes softening, darkening. He unfurled his fist and held Eddie’s jaw in his hand, ran his thumb over Eddie’s lower lip. “Fuck, you deserve the world, angel.” Eddie flushed at that. His heart was racing at the light, teasing way Richie pressed down on his lip. Just as he was about to wrap his lips around Richie’s thumb, Richie slid his hand into Eddie’s hair, holding it noticeably tighter than he normally would. “Tell me what you want, baby.” His voice was low and rough in a way that made Eddie wish he would just bend him over and fuck him senseless already.

But Eddie didn’t mind being coy, didn’t mind pulling the tension as tight as it would go, seeing how much he could tease before Richie snapped and took him the way Eddie wanted him to. “I want you to kiss me.” His nose was bumping against Richie’s now, and he could feel Richie’s shallow breath on his lips. Richie’s eyes were dark and didn’t move from Eddie’s face. Eddie took Richie’s hand and guided it from his waist to his hip, just barely on his ass. Biting his lip, he whispered, “I want you to fuck me, so bad.” He put on a pout and continued, “I fuck all these college guys, but none of them are you. They aren’t as tall as you, their hands aren’t as big as yours.” Eddie watched Richie’s jaw clench. “They can’t fuck me the way I know you could.”

“Fuck, baby,” Richie nearly growled. Eddie gasped when Richie grabbed his ass, hard, and tugged his head back. “Did you think about me while they fucked you?” he whispered in Eddie’s ear, his warm breath sending a shiver through Eddie.

“Every time,” Eddie said, gripping Richie’s shirt in his hands. “Wanted it to be you so bad.”

Richie nuzzled against Eddie’s neck, still not kissing him, still making him wait while he groped his ass. “I know, baby. You needed more, huh? You need your daddy to take care of you.”

Eddie let out a surprised little noise of pleasure. No one had ever said that to him before. He wasn’t expecting it, and he certainly wasn’t expecting how much he would like it. It made him so hard he got dizzy, completely pliant in Richie’s arms. “Yes,” he breathed, already pathetically desperate. “Yes, daddy, need you so bad, please, please.”

Richie cursed under his breath and grabbed Eddie by the jaw, pulling him in for a bruising kiss. Eddie couldn’t help but let out a little whimpering moan when he finally, finally felt Richie’s lips against his. They were just as soft as they looked, and so full. As Eddie sank his fingers into Richie’s thick, dark curls, Richie sat up a bit and pulled Eddie closer against him, grabbing him by the hips and pressing their clothed cocks together. Eddie gasped and buried his face in Richie’s shoulder at the feeling. He mouthed at Richie’s neck, moaning at the way Richie smacked his ass. “This is mine, got it?” he said, his voice smooth and low. “None of those little college pricks are allowed to fucking touch you. Understand?”

Eddie moaned at Richie’s sudden possessiveness. All he wanted was to be Richie’s, for Richie to claim him and show him who he belonged to. “Yes, daddy. ‘M all yours, just wanna be yours.”

“Good boy.” He tugged at Eddie’s hair again, pulling his head back so that his neck was exposed. Eddie yelped as Richie licked a stripe up his throat and sunk his teeth into Eddie’s throat, sure to leave a dark bruise. Eddie squirmed in Richie’s lap as he sucked on his neck, hard and intentional. With a final kiss to the bruise, Richie said with a satisfied grin, “Now everyone’s gonna know you’re mine.” He chuckled and nipped at Eddie’s neck again when Eddie moaned. “Yeah, you like that baby? You like when daddy takes what’s his? You want everyone to know what a good little slut you are for your daddy?”

“Yes,” Eddie sighed, already starting to feel like he was floating. After finals and classes and work and months of controlling himself around Richie, this was exactly what he needed. It felt so amazing to just let go and let Richie take control, knowing Richie would take care of him. He couldn’t believe how good this was and none of their clothes had even come off yet. He fumbled with the buttons on Richie’s shirt, but Richie just chuckled and grabbed him by the wrists.

“That’s cute, baby. Daddy decides whose clothes come off and when, yeah?” Eddie whimpered and nodded. Richie slid his hands back under Eddie’s ass and stood then, lifting Eddie up. Eddie instinctively held tight to him, wrapping his legs around Richie’s waist and his arms around his neck. Richie kissed Eddie’s hair as he walked them to the bedroom. “Just let me take care of you, sweetheart.” Eddie’s heart soared as Richie sat him down on the edge of the huge bed, the duvet soft and cool under him. His legs dangled off the side. Richie’s eyes softened as he stroked Eddie’s hair. “You doing okay?” he checked.

“So good,” Eddie nodded enthusiastically, his hands fisted in Richie’s shirt.

Richie leaned down and kissed Eddie’s forehead, and by the time he straightened up again that look that made Eddie shiver was back on his face. Still cradling Eddie’s face, he asked, “Can I get a little rough with you, baby?”

Eddie’s eyes widened. “Please,” he moaned.

A dark, mischievous grin pulled at Richie’s full, dark pink lips. “That’s a good boy,” he said with a kiss to Eddie’s jaw. “Arms up.” Eddie quickly did as he was told, eager for Richie to strip his shirt off for him. “Fuck, baby,” Richie groaned as he tossed Eddie’s shirt aside. He ran his hands up Eddie’s sides and teased his thumbs over Eddie’s hardened nipples, making him gasp and grab at the sheets. Richie’s hands looked even bigger wrapped around Eddie’s ribs. It made him press his legs together, his cock throbbing desperately in his jeans. “Aw, you don’t need to be shy, kitten,” Richie cooed, forcing one of his legs between Eddie’s and pressing his thigh against Eddie’s crotch. Eddie moaned at the contact and desperately started grinding against Richie’s leg. “Fuck, you look so pretty grinding on me like that. Think you could come like this?” Richie pressed his thigh harder against Eddie’s cock. “Think I could make you come in your pants?” Eddie cried out as Richie pinched his nipples.

“God, yes,” Eddie moaned, rolling his hips. And he could, he could feel the pleasure building and building. But just as his moans were getting breathier, just as he was really desperately rutting against Richie’s leg, Richie pulled away and tugged Eddie up by his belt loops so quickly Eddie got dizzy and fell into Richie’s solid chest. “Wh-what,” he pouted, looking up at Richie, who was smirking at him.

“Aw, baby, we’re just getting started.” Still dazed and whimpering and achingly hard, Eddie held onto Richie as he undid Eddie’s jeans. Richie then dropped to his knees to pull them off. He helped Eddie step out of his jeans, running his hands reverently over Eddie’s legs as he did so. “Oh, sweetheart, you’ve been keeping these thighs from me for months?” Richie kissed them, making Eddie quiver and flush. “Fucking tease,” he murmured into Eddie’s skin before biting down hard on the inside of Eddie’s thigh. Eddie cried out and grabbed at the bed for support. “Look at these fuckin’ things, you basically wore panties for me.” Eddie gasped as Richie playfully tugged at Eddie’s light pink, silky briefs with his teeth. He’d mostly worn them to feel confident during his exam, but he’d be lying if he said he hadn’t thought of Richie when putting them on, or if he said he hadn’t bought them with money Richie gave him. Eddie leaned back as Richie spread his legs, lifting one up to get a better angle to suck marks into Eddie’s skin. The sight of Richie’s head between Eddie’s thighs, combined with the knowledge that his thighs would be covered in bruises by the end of the night, had a wet spot forming on the front of Eddie’s briefs. Richie nuzzled his face into the soft material, just barely grazing Eddie’s cock. He looked up at Eddie, his blue eyes nearly totally eclipsed. “Did you buy these with daddy’s money, baby?” Eddie nodded, blushing. Richie smirked at him. “Is this how you spend your allowance? On slutty little panties?” Eddie moaned at that and grabbed at Richie’s hair, rolling his hips forward and meeting only air. Richie chuckled. The condescension of it went straight to Eddie’s cock, which visibly twitched in his tight little briefs. “Aw, you like being called a slut, don’t you? You like it when I call you out on being a spoiled little cocktease?” Eddie yelped when Richie bit down on the inside of his other thigh.

“Daddy, please,” he whimpered. “Need you.”

For a moment Richie just hummed and kept sucking marks into his skin. But then, finally, he dragged Eddie’s briefs down and off his legs, leaving him fully exposed. Before Eddie could process what was happening, Richie was standing and spinning Eddie around and bending him over the bed, his face pressed into the mattress as his feet once again dangled over the floor. He let out a broken little moan as he felt Richie pull his cheeks apart and run his tongue over Eddie’s hole. After Richie had set a rhythm, lulling Eddie into a pleasured haze, he suddenly felt Richie’s hand come down on his ass. He moaned at the feeling, the slight pain that left an amazing stinging sensation in its wake. “God, you make the prettiest fucking noises,” Richie groaned, once again lapping his tongue over Eddie’s hole. He circled the ring of muscle a few times before pulling back. Eddie was just about to push his hips back when he felt Richie spank him again, harder this time, then felt him spit on his hole. Eddie let out a long moan; it was degrading and possessive in the best way. Eddie tried to rut against the bed, to relieve some of the desperate need that had his cock throbbing, but he couldn’t really do it with the way his feet were hanging off the bed. He heard Richie laugh behind him as he spanked him again. “Aw, you like that, baby? You like when daddy spits on you?”

Eddie let out a muffled, pathetic little, “Yes.”

“I know, it feels good, doesn’t it? Bet you wish you could get off right now.” Eddie’s desperate writhing was confirmation of that. “Don’t worry, kitten, daddy’s gonna fucking take you apart.” Eddie gasped as he felt Richie slide his tongue inside of him, setting a rhythm of fucking and swirling and teasing that had Eddie squirming. He rocked his hips back, letting his mind go fuzzy from the pleasure until suddenly Richie was pulling out and lifting Eddie up again. As disappointed as Eddie was to have Richie’s tongue no longer in his ass, he was more than happy to let Richie toss him around and lay him on his back, his head falling against the luxuriantly soft pillows. He felt so small in Richie’s bed, felt so vulnerable under his gaze—he loved it. Richie ran his hand all the way from Eddie’s throat down to his hip, taking his time before squeezing Eddie’s hip hard. “God, you look so fucking good like this, baby.” He made quick work of the buttons on his shirt, shrugging it off and tossing it aside.

Eddie let out an involuntary little moaned, “Fuck,” at the sight of Richie’s bare chest. He sat up and ran his hand over Richie’s soft, pale skin, admiring his freckles and the slight muscle definition. His shoulders looked somehow even broader now as Eddie traced his fingers over them. Richie only humored him for a moment before pressing Eddie back down and kissing him, deep and just the right amount of forceful.

Richie’s hands roamed all over Eddie’s body. “God, you’re such a pretty little boy, baby. Can’t wait to see what you look like when you’re getting fucked.” Richie bit down on Eddie’s lip, sending a thrill of pleasure through his body. “I don’t want you fucking leaving this bed for the next week, gonna bring you everything you need. Gonna fuck you so hard you won’t be able to walk, and then I’m gonna do it again, and again.” Eddie moaned as he felt Richie’s finger circling his slick hole. “Gonna keep you nice and full of my cock whenever I can, gonna take such good care of you. You won’t need to worry about anything, gonna be my pretty little pillow princess. You just lie there and be a good little cocksleeve and daddy will take care of everything else.” Eddie preened at the thought of Richie fawning over him, of Richie doing everything for him so that all he had to do was lie back and take Richie’s cock. It had him squirming under Richie as he grabbed at Eddie wherever he could reach, surely leaving handprints all over Eddie’s body as he glided his tongue over Eddie’s. “Can’t wait to get my cock inside you, baby.” Richie sat back on his heels then and eyed Eddie’s hole, rubbing at it teasingly.

“Please,” Eddie moaned, trying to rock his hips onto Richie’s finger.

“Shh, baby, soon,” Richie soothed, leaning over to kiss Eddie again before reaching into his bedside table. He pulled out a bottle of lube and covered his fingers in it. Eddie moaned at the sight; he didn’t think a day had gone by where he hadn’t thought of Richie’s fingers since the first time they met. They were so long, and he could only imagine how amazing they would feel inside of him, fucking him, stretching him open. Richie chuckled when Eddie instinctively opened his legs. “I know, sweetheart, I know.” He tossed the lube aside and ran his clean hand over Eddie’s thigh, holding him still before slowly sliding a slick finger inside of him.

Eddie gasped and threw his head back; one of Richie’s fingers felt like two of his own and reached deeper than he ever could have by himself. “Fuck,” he cried, “your fingers are so big, oh my god.”

“Yeah?” Richie grinned, cocky and dark. As he slowly began sliding his finger in and out of Eddie, he slid his other hand up his chest until he was cradling his jaw and running the pad of his thumb teasingly over Eddie’s lips. “One finger and you’re already a mess, huh? You like the way I fill you up, baby?” Eddie moaned as Richie slid his thumb into Eddie’s mouth, effectively silencing any response Eddie could’ve made. He let out a contented hum and eagerly sucked on Richie’s finger, holding onto Richie’s forearm with both of his hands as he bobbed his head. “Fuck, that’s it, baby. Such a good little slut for daddy.” Eddie moaned again, rocking his hips as Richie began to finger him faster. Eddie cried out as Richie thrust deep inside of him, making him see stars. “Yeah, you like how deep I can get inside you, baby?” Eddie nodded. “I fucking love it too, angel. You’re so tight, so small and sweet.” He slid his thumb out of Eddie’s mouth and pressed his palm to Eddie’s throat. Eddie’s eyes widened for a moment, and he tilted his head back, giving Richie better access. Richie pressed down slightly under Eddie’s jaw on either side of his throat, moaning at the blissed out smile that graced Eddie’s face. Richie only pressed down a bit, only for a few moments at a time, just enough to get Eddie’s cock leaking all over himself. He let out breathy little moans as Richie finger fucked him, the wet sounds filling the room.

“Daddy,” Eddie moaned. He met Richie’s eyes as he begged. “Please, please, fuck me, daddy, want your cock so bad.”

“Oh, sweetheart, that’s cute” Richie grinned, his voice low and condescending in a way that made Eddie’s cock throb. “I need to open you up a little more before you’re ready for my cock.” As he said it, he pressed another slick finger inside of Eddie, stretching him out. Eddie felt so full already from just two of Richie’s fingers; his cock ached at the thought of how big Richie’s cock would feel inside of him.

Eddie was pulled out of his thoughts as Richie spit on his chest, sliding his free hand over Eddie’s nipples, getting them nice and wet as he played with them. “Daddy,” Eddie began, but he cut himself off with a scream as Richie curled his fingers inside of him, making electric pleasure shoot through him. He moaned and squirmed and grabbed at Richie’s hair, at the sheets, anything to ground himself as Richie leaned down and sucked on his nipples, still relentlessly fucking Eddie’s hole with his fingers. “Please,” Eddie gasped, “daddy, please.”

“You sure you’re ready, baby?” Richie teased.

“Fuck me, please,” he whined, clearly getting impatient. “I can take it!”

“Oh yeah?” Richie asked, pulling his fingers out. He had a look on his face that had Eddie’s blood pounding in excited anticipation. “Okay, baby. If you think you can take it.” He stood up off the bed then, and Eddie sat up a bit to watch. With rapt attention, his eyes followed Richie’s every movement as he dragged his jeans off his legs, then stripped off his boxers.

“God, daddy,” Eddie whimpered, drooling over the sight of Richie’s cock. It was thick and heavy and hard, and so fucking long, Eddie couldn’t believe he’d been keeping himself from a dick like that for months. It was even longer than any of his dildos or vibrators. He needed to feel it down his throat, he needed it.

Seeming to sense this, just as Eddie began to move toward him Richie lightly shoved him back down. “Stay where you are, baby.” Eddie whined but reluctantly complied. The way Richie tauntingly stroked his cock just out of Eddie’s reach had him debating whether it was worth it to be bratty if it meant getting his throat fucked. But his cock was throbbing between his legs, his hole pitifully empty, and watching Richie roll a condom on and lube up his cock made it hard to think about anything other than getting fucked. “Maybe if I’m feeling generous I’ll come on your face,” Richie mused, almost casually as he climbed back onto the bed and spread Eddie’s legs, settling naturally between them. Eddie moaned at his words and melted back into the bed. The sight of Richie above him, the way he touched him, had Eddie completely pliant. He felt warm and buzzy, almost liquid as Richie ran his hand reverently over Eddie’s thigh. As he teased the head of his cock over Eddie’s hole, he took Eddie’s hand in his and entwined their fingers. While Eddie nearly moaned just at that sight alone, at the way Richie’s hand engulfed Eddie’s own, it was also incredibly endearing, and it made something stir in his chest. Guys didn’t normally hold his hand when fucking him, and if they tried it was just weird, as he pretty much only did hookups. But with Richie… it felt different. The way Richie looked at him was different. Like he didn’t want to miss a single thing Eddie did.

Richie’s voice was low and rich and brought Eddie back as he asked, “Ready?” Eddie bit his lip and nodded. As Richie pressed himself inside of Eddie, careful and slow, Eddie squeezed Richie’s hand. His mouth dropped open in a silent cry as he felt every inch of Richie’s cock filling him up. Once he bottomed out, Richie let out a low groan and rested his forehead against Eddie’s, pressing kisses all over Eddie’s face.

“Holy… holy shit,” Eddie panted, letting his body adjust. He’d never felt this full before, had never had anything so deep inside of him. “Oh my god.”

Richie chuckled in his ear as he kissed Eddie’s neck. “What’s the matter, kitten?” he teased.

Eddie couldn’t even be bothered to take the banter bait; everything felt too good, his mind was numb. “You’re so big,” he said dumbly, saying exactly what was on his mind. “No one’s ever been this deep inside me before, holy shit.”

“I can tell,” Richie hummed. “So fucking tight for me, baby, it’s fucking amazing.” Eddie let out a small whimper as Richie sucked on his neck. “Does it feel good?”

“Yes,” Eddie sighed. “I just, I need just a minute.”

Richie nuzzled his nose against Eddie’s and pressed a soft kiss to his lips. “As long as you need.”

As Richie kissed him, sucking gently on his lower lip, Eddie slid his free hand into Richie’s hair, admiring the way his curls felt between his fingers. Then, experimentally, he lifted his legs a bit, pulling them toward himself. They both moaned at the movement, and Eddie felt Richie squeeze his hand. “Oh my god,” Eddie moaned. He grabbed Richie’s face and kissed him desperately, pleading into his lips, “Fuck, I’m ready, please, please fuck me.”

Richie grabbed him by the hair and held him down, lifting himself up with his other arm. “Yeah?” he said, voice breathy as he pulled his hips back. He looked amazing, dark curls wild as they hung around his face, his blue eyes dark and hungry behind his glasses, his lips slick and red from kissing Eddie. He squeezed Eddie’s hip hard and asked, “You wanna get fucked, sweetheart?”

“Please,” Eddie whined. He hooked his hands under his knees and pulled them up to his chest, spreading them nice and wide for Richie. He watched Richie’s eyes go dark and begged, “Please, need you to fuck me, daddy.”

Richie snapped his hips forward with a sharp, “Fuck,” making Eddie cry out. He pulled his hips back again, until just the tip of his cock was buried inside of Eddie. “Say that again.”

Eddie met Richie’s gaze with glassy eyes and whimpered, “Please, fuck me, daddy.”

Richie cursed again and thrust into Eddie, this time setting a more steady pace. “God, you feel so fucking good on my cock, baby.” Eddie moaned and rocked his hips, his hands falling to grip the sheets beneath him as Richie began fucking him faster, harder. “You look so good like this, so pretty when you’re moaning for my cock.” Eddie flushed; Richie’s words had precome pearling at the head of dick, dripping onto his stomach.

Richie’s thrusts were getting hard enough to rock Eddie’s body back and forth, moving him so easily as Richie fucked him. Eddie loved it, loved how effortlessly Richie could toss him around. He loved hearing Richie moan as he fucked him, loved knowing that Richie felt just as good as he did. He loved the idea of Richie using his body to get himself off. The thought had him letting out little high pitched moans with every thrust. The pleasure left his mind in a haze, and all he could concentrate on was how good Richie’s cock felt inside of him, all he could say was a desperate string of, “Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me,” broken up by wordless moans.

“Fuck, you take it so well, baby,” Richie praised, running his hand over Eddie’s chest. “So fucking good for me. You like getting fucked like this? You like being all spread out for daddy? Just lying back and taking it while daddy makes you feel good?”

“Yes!” Eddie cried. “Yes, yes, yes, daddy, oh my god, ‘s so good, fuck.”

“God, you’re so beautiful,” Richie marveled, leaning down to kiss Eddie. The new angle shifted Richie’s hips, and suddenly Eddie was seeing stars, every nerve in his body coming alive and fizzling like a sparkler. He cried out and clutched at Richie, nearly screaming from how amazing it felt.

“Fuck,” he moaned, his voice high and desperate. “Right there, yes, oh my fucking god, don’t stop, please, please, don’t stop.”

“Aw, sweetheart, does that feel good?” Eddie nodded frantically, his moans becoming shouts as Richie’s cock brushed against his prostate over and over, the pleasure so deep and all encompassing. He couldn’t think about anything else, all he knew was that amazing feeling, all he knew was he needed more. He wanted more and more and more, he could feel it building, was vaguely aware of the fact that he was digging his nails into Richie’s back hard enough to leave scratch marks.

“Daddy,” he slurred, “gonna c-come.”

“Fuck, baby,” Richie groaned. He spit generously into his hand and reached between them to stroke Eddie’s cock. Eddie’s back arched, pressing himself against Richie. The new contact had pleasure rushing through him, and with a few strokes of Richie’s hand on him and a nearly growled, “Come for daddy,” Eddie was coming undone. Pleasure exploded through him, wracked his body as he came all over himself, all over Richie’s hand, Richie fucking into him the whole time. Beyond the noise of his own moans and screams, he could hear Richie cursing under his breath, telling Eddie how good he was doing.

Eddie panted as he came down, blinking his eyes open slowly. Still buzzing, he watched as Richie carefully pulled out of him and rolled the condom off before leaning further over Eddie. He spit into his hand again and began stroking his own cock, a sight that made Eddie’s spent cock twitch in interest.

“Open your mouth, baby,” Richie moaned. Eddie happily complied, sticking his tongue out and closing his eyes. Moments later, Richie’s moans were filling the room, as was the slick sound of Richie stroking himself, and Eddie moaned, small and content as he felt Richie’s warm come painting his chest and cheeks and lips.

He blinked open his eyes once he heard Richie let out a heavy sigh. He looked amazing, sweaty curls clinging to his face, blue eyes hooded as he took in the sight of Eddie beneath him, covered in come. Eddie made sure to meet Richie’s gaze before he swallowed the come on his tongue, then licked more off of his lips. “Fuck, you’re a fucking angel,” Richie grinned. He swiped his fingers over Eddie’s chest, spreading his come over Eddie’s nipple before bringing it to his lips. Eddie hummed happily as he sucked on Richie’s fingers. He still felt like he was floating. Richie leaned down and kissed him, deep and lingering, before saying, “Let’s get you cleaned up, baby, okay?” When Eddie nodded, Richie climbed off the bed and headed for the bathroom. Eddie watched through the open door as Richie waited for the water to warm, then wet a washcloth under it before walking back over to the bed. Eddie preened as Richie cleaned him, pressing soft kisses all over his face as he gently ran the warm washcloth over Eddie’s cheeks and chest and stomach. “That was fucking amazing,” Richie said. Eddie hummed in agreement. He felt like he was glowing when he felt Richie smile against his skin. “You’re so beautiful, Eds. So fucking good for me.” As soon as Eddie was clean and the washcloth was tossed in the hamper, Eddie wrapped his arms around Richie and pulled him down against him, nuzzling into his neck.

“You’re amazing,” he murmured softly into Richie’s skin. They lay like that for a few minutes, just holding each other and pressing soft kisses against each other’s skin, until Eddie let out a small, “Richie?”

Richie sat up and met his eyes, sensing the shift in his tone. “Yeah?”

“What… what is this? Like what are we, I guess?” he asked, tracing patterns over Richie’s skin with his fingertips.

Richie smiled softly down at him and stroked his cheek. “Same thing it’s always been. Whatever you want.”

Eddie huffed. “What do you want?”

Richie bit his lip, his eyes flickering between Eddie’s. “I want you. All the time. I wanna take you on vacations and buy you gifts and flowers and dinner and watch movies with you. I wanna date you, Eds,” he said with a weak huff of a laugh. “I wanna give you the fucking world.”

Eddie grinned up at him and pulled him down for a kiss. “I wanna date you, too.”

After a few moments of chaste kisses, Richie murmured into his lips, “I also wanna fuck you in every position on every single surface I can think of.” Eddie rolled his eyes and smacked his shoulder, but he was giggling, and he couldn’t say he hadn’t been thinking the same thing.

taglist: @clouded-eyes-and-salty-tears @eddieeatsass @deadlighturis @constantreaderfool @reddieloserz @thelazyeye @montconde @itfandomprompts @tinyarmedtrex @nancythebisexualslutwheeler @cutedubutokki @losers-gotta-stick-together

#reddie #notsfw #reddie smut

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cupcakemolotov · 4 years

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Fall With You

I ended up pinch hitting for the exchange! It was fun, if slightly wild 48 hours to put this together. Written for the lovely @queencarolinemikaelson. I’m really glad you enjoyed it since it ended up being a fluff fest of roommate co-hab. Also a big thank you to @bellemorte180 for putting this graphic together!

I put the first but under a cut, bit under a cut, but the full story is almost 9K, so the link to the story is at the bottom. :)

Summary: When life throws her a curve ball in the form of her good looking, yet moody roommate, Caroline takes it in stride as best she can. Her living situation was a favor, after all, and rent is anything but cheap in NYC. Its the part where she actually starts to like him that she can't quiet figure out how to manage. Lust was one thing, but feelings?

Warnings: Alternate Universe; Alternate; Universe - Human; Alternate Universe - Roommates/Housemates; Minor Character Death; not otp; Family Drama; Family Dynamics; Fluff and Humor; Domestic Fluff; Tooth-Rotting Fluff; Mild Smut; Human Caroline Forbes; Human Klaus Mikaelson; Living Room Picnics; Wine; Dates That Aren't Dates; They Could Really Get Their Shit Together Faster; but not really; Making Out; Some petting; NSFW just to be safe

It was almost three am, her feet were killing her, and her key was stuck in her front door.

Seriously, what was with her luck today? The door had always been finicky, but until earlier this week the lock had been behaving itself. It’d gone from not wanting to turn properly to straight up mutiny in four days. It was an easy fix, unlike the door, but it also required a trip to the store and she just hadn’t had time. Amazon could have delivered the powdered graphite, but she was on a budget and believed in shopping local.

Her two year savings plan to finish her degree would not manifest itself if she bought things simply because they were convenient.

Squeezing her eyes shut, Caroline seriously considered just leaning up against the door jam and spending the night outside. It was early summer, and the air had cooled to a balmy sixty-five degrees, leaving the usually stifling hallway almost comfortable. If only she didn’t smell so heavily of beer. Shifting her weight, she winced as her shoes squelched, a reminder of the truly spectacular ending to her night. Her eight hour shift had almost doubled when the night shift manager had called in sick. Usually that wouldn’t have been a problem, but the only other person with keys was out of town leaving Caroline holding the bag to close.

She knew from experience that she had about an hour before she crashed, the rush from kicking out the lingering guests who had been clearly on an epic brawl crawl having mostly faded after the hour long subway ride home. Right then, the only thing keeping her upright was the fact that she was starving, her dinner had been rushed and only half eaten, and the knowledge that if she made it into her apartment she had the next two days off. Tomorrow she could sleep in, and if she was really lucky, her roommate’s night had gone well enough he could be coaxed into making pancakes.

Cheered by the thought, Caroline dug out her cell phone from the backpack she’d slung over her shoulder and checked it for a response. She hadn’t been sure if Klaus had beaten her home or if he was still out celebrating, but either way, he hadn’t bothered to respond yet. Her lips compressed into a thin line.

Usually, she could depend on Klaus to be awake when she finished a night shift, her roommates' hours were only reliable on how sporadic they were and depending on her schedule, hers weren’t much better. But with his big event tonight, she had no idea what he had decided to do. Honestly, would it kill the man to respond to her texts?

She’d expected him to ignore her rapidly typed apology and well wishes she’d sent in-between bites of food. Klaus wasn’t particularly good at handling sentiment of any kind and supremely anti-emoji, and she’d made a point to send several of them. She’d hoped it’d give him something to be annoyed about that wasn’t his evening plans. He needed to schmooze, and a scowl-y Klaus would not accomplish that at all.

He could be charming, when he wanted to be. She’d seen it. He just didn’t deploy full dimples unless he wanted something. Her reminders the night before that he needed to earn his half of the rent without getting carpal tunnel hadn't impressed him.

Too bad. She’d been right, and he’d known it.

He had mentioned a couple of his friends were trying to talk him into drinks afterwards, back when she had thought she might be able to join him. Usually, she would be thrilled that he was getting out and actually seeing people instead of trying to live off granola bars and tea. But right then she really wanted him to be home and grumpy so he could unlock the door. She wondered if texting Marcel with an S.O.S would be rude?

Things were a lot less complicated when she only liked Klaus for the rent he helped cover. Wanting him home, even just for a lock-related emergency wasn’t a thought she would have had even six months ago. Klaus was not what one would label as a comfortable roommate for most of the time. He was far too prickly for that, and he could be snarly in the mornings. Which fair, so could she, but the moodiness. Caroline hadn’t been one to spend much time around the art scene, either at Uni or in high school, but she’d spent the last year learning that there was a lot to be said about artistic temperaments, most of it unflattering.

She was fairly certain Klaus had been born a contrary grump, his winning personality had nothing to do with his chosen profession, she could certainly see how he’d been drawn to the lifestyle, talent aside. Most people immediately laughed off his acerbic tongue once they learned he was an artist, his behavior brushed aside as temperamental. His goods certainly helped his cause, and his accent added a layer of charm that otherwise might not have existed.

She was not so forgiving.

The first few months of their co-hab had not been easy. Klaus was messy, absent minded, and had ruined three of her towels with paint splatter before she’d blown her lid. The apartment was small enough that avoiding each other was nearly impossible, and her preferred kind of stress relief had to be timed for when she was alone, and so they’d been forced to deal with their annoyances. To Klaus’ credit, while he’d been snappish in return, he’d somehow managed to keep a lid on the worst of his temper.

They’d argued, multiple times, they were both stubborn and used to being right, but they’d eventually found some kind of middle ground. Snapping had softened into bickering, and Caroline had stopped nitpicking him about his notebooks being spread across the house and the incorrect way he rolled his toothpaste, and he stopped leaving towels on the floor and made a point to contain his absentminded mess to his room.

And then they started to talk, sometimes about work, sometimes about art, and she’d realized she kind of liked him as a person. She’d started dragging him to her group lunches on her days off, much to Rebekah’s despair, and they might have become something like friends. Except for the part where every so often, she’d look at him and something about the way he stood, the angle of his jaw or the line of his throat left her wanting to jump his bones.

It was really frustrating, when her existence didn’t even seem to phase him.

So she’d done her best to ignore whatever that little spark was between them when it flared up, and not upset the status quo. Because the past year had been better than she could have imagined. Before her mom had died, she would never have considered the life she found herself living now as a good one.

She’d just wrapped her third year at NYU, had exactly 24 hours of classes left before graduation, and had managed to wrangle her schedule so that her final semester would be a cake walk of classes. The cherry on top had been the kick ass internship she’d lined up for the summer. Her five year plan was perfectly on track, her excellent grades gave her a shot at graduating with honors, and she couldn’t wait to show her mom around New York City from the eyes of a local. She’d spent three years putting together a binder, collecting menus from her favorite places to eat and brochures from all the museums and the jam packed tourists locations to offer her mom some variety.

Then she’d gotten that phone call that had thrown everything into a tale spin.

Blowing out a breath, Caroline bounced on her toes and debated best her course of action. She could probably get her key out of the lock if she was very careful, though the past twenty minutes said her luck wasn’t great, Forbes women were nothing if not stubborn, but there was also a chance she would break the key off in the lock and she could already see the little smirk on Klaus’ face if she did. Her hand tightened on the strap of her backpack. He still hadn’t forgiven her for being far more comfortable with power tools than he was and her perfectly reasonable gloating probably hadn’t helped much, if she was honest.

She kind of didn’t regret it. Poking Klaus sizable ego was a favorite past time of hers, and he seemed to enjoy their back and forth as much as she did. Her mental tally had her up two points this month, and she wanted to keep her lead.

Unfortunately, things weren’t really going in her favor just then. Sighing, Caroline tucked her phone back into her bag and admitted defeat. She’d have to figure this one out herself. Either Klaus’ event had run long and he had actually taken her advice to schmooze people or he was home and had drunk enough that he was sleeping like the dead.

Either of those options would not help her now.

Her best bet now was to go and eat a giant piece of pie, drink her weight in caffeine, and trudge her way to the little mom and pop shop that sold a little of everything, including graphite, once it became a reasonable hour. She’d fix her lock and then crash for the following eight hours of hopefully uninterrupted sleep, and leave a very pointed sticky note on the coffee pot so Klaus knew not to disturb her.

Satisfied with the makings of her plan, she shifted her backpack to her other shoulder, mentally reviewing the pie menu, and paused when the elevator dinged from behind her. Sliding her teeth between her lip, Caroline turned and blew out a breath when she recognized the tumble of ruffled curls stepping into the hall. The hallway was dimly lit, so it took a moment for her brain to really understand what else she was seeing.

Klaus was wearing a tux.

Logically, she’d known he was going to be wearing one. His event that night had been important, his work had finally made it into a gallery tonight and it was a Big Deal. His first real show outside of the fancy art school he had attended, and he had spent months fretting over his work and brooding silently in his room as nothing met his incredibly exacting standards. Klaus had even brought home a couple of canvas to work in the questionable light of his bedroom instead of the small studio space he and five other artists pooled their money to share.

Much to her annoyance.

No amount of febreeze really removed the scent of acrylics and turpentine, and she’d been worried if she tried to burn her stash of scented candles something would catch on fire. She’d held her tongue though, because Klaus was never nervous. He was in fact annoyingly difficult to rattle even in the most ridiculous of situations, the man had absolutely no shame, and the way he’d almost jittered had been weird and kind of enduring. Since he’d seen her in numerous states of frantic and alarmed, it was nice for things to end up on a little more even ground for once. She’d done her best to force him to eat something that looked like actual food every so often, and tried to stay quiet when she knew he was working in his bedroom.

She’d even helped him pick out the tuxedo from the catalogue he’d brought home from the store he had planned to rent from. There was a fancy evening gown that she’d rented hanging in her closet that Caroline had planned to wear to go with him before work had made that impossible. But knowing all that, and actually seeing him in that tux were not nearly the same thing.

Caroline blinked rapidly. Her paint speckled roommate, with his surly attitude and annoying dimples, was wearing a tux. And he looked really, really good. He’d undone his tie so it hung loosely around his neck, and his jacket was loose and unbuttoned around his waist, his curls still somewhat tamed along his forehead. Something very much like arousal jolted through her as he looked up, the low light highlighting the scruff along his jaw and the length of his neck. For a moment, he just stared at her, as surprised as she and then his head tipped and his brow arched, lips tugging up at the corners.

“Waiting on me?”

The rest can be found here: A03

#my fic #klaroline #klaroline fanfiction #exchange fic

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sanakoreanlangblr · 4 years

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2021 Goals

Heyy! I’ve decided to put my goals for this year here, hoping that that might motivate me further, and maybe motivate someone else as well. Good luck everyone! And please take extra care of yourselves and your health, mental or otherwise! Everything else can wait.

This year has been difficult for all of us. As for me, even now, the upcoming semester is a big question mark. Currently I’m studying in France, and this semester I was supposed to go on an exchange to Taiwan buuuut that’s not happening anymore, as it has been cancelled. So per my school’s requirements I need to find an internship in the place of expatriation, which is a pain now. And that basically just means I have no idea where I’m going to be in the coming year or what I’m gonna be doing ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ Sorry, needed to complain for a bit, as I am going absolutely insane with the stress…

Anywayyyy, I still hope I will be able to uphold most of these goals, wherever I will end up. I tried to not make them overly big, so that I won’t get burned out too fast. But I have a whole year for those, some of these have dates for which I could expect to finish but I will not keep to them very strictly. Whatever happens, happens :))

Also, sorry if there are any mistakes, English is not my first language!

Korean (A2 -> B1)

1. Do 100 lessons of grammar from the HowToStudyKorean website.

I’ve started a few grammar books but in the end decided to settle on this website as I like its explanations best, and it provides the most example sentences when introducing each point. A nice touch is also the fact that it includes a list of a number of new words before each chapter, which gives me some new vocabulary to learn :)

So far I’ve divided the grammar points introduced in lessons into „to learn”, „to revise”, „already know”, and turns out I have:

66 „to learn”

35 „to revise”

32 „already know”

So if I did 3 points a week, I should be done around August.

2. Read 2 little stories per week from “Easy Korean Reading for Beginners”.

There is 30 stories in the first one (I already did 5), so I should be done by the middle of April.

3. Do one chapter per week from “My first hanja guide”.

I just got this book for Christmas and haven’t had the time to fully go through it so we will see how it goes.

4. Do Anki at least three times a week.

Every day would be preferable but I know that would last like a week at most.

5. Have iTalki lesson at least once a week.

That one is not a problem as I have been doing one or two per week for the last year, but I would just like to keep it up.

6. Try writing at least twice a month, and at least 2 pages.

Yeahhh that one is a bit of a bother, as writing still takes me a long time so we will leave it a twice a month and see how it goes.

7. Watch one youtube video per week on Korean grammar or vocabulary.

Generally I would say my goal is to use Korean more, as I know quite a lot but when I’m speaking I tend to go towards the easier words and grammar, which is why I am thinking that writing more could help me. And also I really want to focus on learning vocabulary as that’s always been a pain for me, I’m more of a grammar lover :))

French (A2 -> hoping for upper B1/ beginning of B2)

1. Finish the intermediate grammar book. I’m currently doing „Grammaire Progressive du Français” Intermediate edition, for A2/B1.

The problem is that my grammar knowledge of french is a mess , so going through this book is a bit of an annoyance, as most chapters I technically know but each time I find some nuance I wasn’t aware of... therefore I need to go through it, even the chapters I would have assumed I know :|

So I divided the chapters the same way I did Korean, into „to learn”, „to revise”, „already know”, and I ended up with:

14 „to learn”

34 „to revise”

4 „already know”

So technically if I did 2 points a week, I should be done in June.

2. Read the two french books I got for Christmas (“Les aventures d’Alice au pays des merveilles” and “Le tour du monde en quatre-vingts jours”).

3. Read at least two of the Harry Potter books in French.

I have started the first one this week, and I can tell it’s gonna be a very very slow process. It’s the first book I’m reading in french so it’s a bit difficult and frustrating but hopefully it’ll get better as I go along.

4. Watch at least 4 french movies, with french subtitles.

5. Learn a french song.

6. Read one story per week from „French Stories for Beginners”.

These are quite easy, but they are a nice practice for switching to books later on.

I don’t know if I’m gonna keep this one in, depends on how much my reading of actual books will progress.

7. Get to point 5 on the Duolingo tree.

I use Duolingo mostly as a revision tool, so I’m not really going to focus on it much, but still want to keep it up.

8. Watch one YouTube video per week (on any topic).

9. Listen to two podcasts per month.

10. At least one iTalki lesson per week.

11. Do Anki at least 3 times a week.

I really need to listen to french more, as I’m good at reading and I usually understand that pretty well, and I’m not the worst as speaking, but I am absolutely terrible at listening :| So that’s a priority.

Chinese (tbh I don’t know...end of HSK1/Beginning of HSK2 -> let’s say the goal is HSK3 for this year)

1. Finish the book „Integrated Chinese”

I’m having a tough time to pick a book from which to learn but I guess for now I’ll continue with that one.

Again, I divided the points in the book to „to learn”, „to revise”, „already know”, and ended up with:

47 „to learn”

11 „to revise”

15 „already know”

So doing 2 a week I should be done in July.

2. Learn 15 characters a day

I am way behind on learning characters.. I remember the words well but I didn’t put enough time to learn the characters at the start and now that’s gonna be a bit annoying to catch up on :|

3. Finish the drama „Go Ahead”.

4. Watch 3 Chinese movies, with both English and Chinese subtitles.

5. Have one Italki lesson per week.

6. Learn a children song in Chinese

7. Watch one youtube video per week on grammar.

8. Do Anki twice a week.

Generally focus more on characters. My speaking isn’t terrible (well besides the tones), but I need to work on the grammar a bit more as I seem to mess up the structures quite frequently. I need to put more work outside of my lessons. Since I found out I’m actually not going to Taiwan this semester my motivation has fallen a bit, but on the other hand I now have more time to prepare for fall, at which point I will hopefully be able to go!

Personal

Read 20 books.

I have always loved reading but in the past two years the amount of books I’ve read has gone down, which upsets me a bit… On the other hand the amount of fanfiction I’ve read is tremendous, so there’s that. However I would like to make more effort to read this year, especially since I’ve accumulated a huge pile of books over those few years.

2. Workout regularly.

Right now I’m at home, so that should be easy to do. I don’t really know what’s gonna happen this semester, so we’ll see what I’m going to do about that later.

3. Eat better.

Meaning: cut down on sugar, eat more veggies and fruit.

4. Get a bit closer to my ideal weight

I’m not necessarily focusing on that this year as the previous one has been hell and really managed to deteriorate my mental health back to high school levels... but still hopefully working out a bit and eating less sugar, more veggies, I will be able to lose a tiny bit of weight. But overall I just want to focus on being a bit healthier.

5. Clean out my wardrobe

Sorry that’s a silly one but I’ve been getting to it for half a year now and I’m just too lazy to do that... maybe once I put it here I will have some motivation

6. Take care of my face and hair

So my sensitive skin hates wearing masks and needs extra care these days I need to really focus on it and baby it, to not go back to the awful red mess it was two months ago

As for my hair, I have kind of 3a curls which I haven’t been taking care of properly and plus I damaged them with hair dye (still I refuse to give up ginger hair, I blame Merida). So now during lockdown and quarantine season I finally had some time to read up on hair care of curls, and honestly after a month I can already see the difference, and well I hope for the best :)))

7. Get a tattoo

It’s something I’ve always put off since I either didn’t have the money or time. And now again both are problematic, so I will wait for the decision until I know what my school semester is going to be like. Maybe this time I will find a good moment! (Although honestly saving up for travelling after all this is over is also a great idea :))) )

8. Don’t go to sleep at 5

Yeah so during lockdown and because of online classes my sleeping schedule got so messed up I don’t even know what to do about it anymore. And while my goal isn’t to switch it to 10 pm, cutting it to 2 am at max would be nice

9. Watch 25 movies

10. Sell/donate the things that I don’t need

I’ve accumulated a huge pile of books, movies, CDs, Xbox games, art products - that I need to get rid of - and I’ve been saying that for like three years now, about the same pile of things. I will try to do that one this year!

I hope everyone’s 2021 will be a ton better than 2020! Keep fighting!

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frelmidja · 4 years

Note

Have you got any personal headcannnos for any rarepairs in mha you ship?

ok I have spent WAY too much time making up backstory for EctoLoader... I wanted to put it together as a fic but I haven't made any progress on it in about 2 years, so I'm gonna try to summarize all the stuff I've come up with for them.

It’s a lot.

-Ecoplasm and Power Loader meet in high school - Ecto is at the top of his heroics class, and has a competitive friend group. He believes being a top hero is the only thing he wants to do with his life.

-Power Loader is the quiet, weird kid from out of town. He has trouble making eye contact and frequently runs his fingers through his hair, pulling his bangs down over his eyes. He also sometimes chews on his iron claws, which is very bad for his teeth but it's a nervous habit that he has trouble stopping. He's a wallflower just trying to get by until Ecto shows up in the support room with a broken helmet that needs fixing.

-At first Ecto sees him as a tool to repair his gear - the company their school uses to fix things takes forever, so support items often stayed broken for a long time. Power Loader doesn't have any close friends and is struggling in his support classes (his main teacher thinks he should be in a course based on his quirk, iron claws, and that he has no business being in support item development, so she was keeping him shut out of support opportunities) SO Power Loader gets pretty clingy to Ecto. Even though he knew he was being used, he figures that some kind of friendship is better than nothing.

-Ecto ends up spending a lot of time around Power Loader to keep him handy, but realizes that there aren't the same expectations from Power Loader that he has from his competitive peers. He can have some quiet downtime to relax and just hang out, which is really nice. Power Loader stays quiet and doesn't open up much, but he eventually shares his secret spot with Ecto - an area under some old, unused bleachers that he'd spruced up. Power Loader often goes there when the support room is full of students during breaks and lunch, and it ends up being a hangout spot for the two.

-Their friendship seems pretty stable until a guy who used to be a part of Ecto's friend group confronts Power Loader one day, taunting him about how Ecto is just using him and isn't really his friend. Power Loader tries to brush him off, but the guy uses his quirk (he can split his total mass into 2 versions of himself) and keeps getting in Power Loader's face. Power Loader ends up punching him in the gut, hard. The guy leaves Power Loader alone after that, but the damage is done - Power Loader can't stop thinking about what he said.

-Later at school, Ecto is looking for Power Loader to help with some scratches he got on his helmet. It's a rainy day, and he finally finds Power Loader huddled under the bleachers. Power Loader is curt with Ecto, and makes it obvious that he knows Ecto is using him to fix his support gear. However at this point, Ecto genuinely likes spending time with him. He manages to calm Power Loader down. Power Loader vents his frustrations about his support teacher to Ecto, who agrees that she's being unfair. Power Loader feels better knowing someone acknowledges his struggles. He offers to fix Ecto's helmet even though Ecto hadn't asked yet - but Ecto tells him no, it’s just cosmetic and if his gear is always getting fixed then someone will figure out what's going on and Power Loader might get in trouble. By the time the lunch bell rings, they're both in better spirits but it's raining pretty hard. If Power Loader shows up to class soaking wet he'd be in trouble, so Ecto tosses his jacket over Power Loader and darts into the rain - he has gym class next so he needs to change anyway. Power Loader is able to stay mostly dry and stammers a quick thank-you to Ecto.

-After this Power Loader opens up a lot more - he'll talk about projects he's working on at home/in secret, he doesn't tug on his hair as much, he's a lot more relaxed when they hang out, etc. Power Loader is also getting friendlier with the people in Ecto's friend group - he's not someone they consider competition, and they're warming up to him. Ecto's oblivious to the fact that Power Loader is crushing on him pretty hard, but a couple of his friends started to notice. They tease him about it but Ecto brushes them off, saying they're just friends.

-At one point Power Loader tries to ask Ecto out on a date to a new ice cream place in town. (Power Loader doesn't like sugary foods, but Ecto has a big sweet tooth) Power Loader uses the excuse that he doesn't want to go by himself and asks if Ecto would go with him... but Ecto misunderstands and invited the rest of their friend group. Power Loader's disappointed, but they still have fun.

-Power Loader tries his best in school but keeps struggling because his support teacher is blocking him at every turn. Ecto does great in his hero classes. He debuts his super move, Giant Bite Detention, during a vs. match with another school. This attracts a lot of attention and gets him an internship at a prestigious agency after he graduates. Power Loader ends up going to a 2 year tech school and lands a job at a company that repairs support items - not what he wanted, but not a bad start. They're really close friends by the time they finish high school, and Ecto is starting to see how Power Loader feels about him, but neither one addresses it and they stay close friends.

-About 3 years after high school, the friend group meets up for dinner and drinks - one last hoo-rah before they go their separate ways. They laugh and carry on, talking about what they've been doing and what their plans are. They're all a little tipsy by the time dinner is over, and Power Loader ends up going home with Ecto instead of trying to catch a late night train back to his apartment. It seems like things are going to get frisky, but Power Loader had too much to drink and winds up getting sick. Ecto takes care of him until he feels better; he makes Power Loader drink a bunch of water while he puts together a place for him to sleep. Ecto made a little setup on the floor in his bedroom, but when he turns around Power Loader has already crawled into Ecto's bed and fallen asleep. Ecto resigns himself to sleeping on the floor.

-Power Loader wakes up the next day and, thinking he's at his own place, is getting handsy with himself - which causes Ecto to wake up, startling them both. Power Loader is flustered, but when Ecto starts coming on to him he goes with it and it leads to them fooling around. They wash up afterwards and make some jokes about being 'friends with benefits,' both brushing it off as just a couple friends being dumb together. After having lunch out, Ecto goes to see Power Loader off at the train station. It's a bit somber because soon Ecto will be traveling halfway across the country for some hero work and they won't see each other for a long time. They make promises to keep up online and tease each other, all smiles by the time the train arrives. Ecto gives him a goodbye hug and heads home to pack after the train leaves. When it arrives at Power Loader's stop, he gets off and walks home, keeping his head down. He gets into his apartment and goes straight to his bedroom, where he buries his face in his pillow and cries.

-Power Loader and Ecto stay good friends, even though they don't get to see each other very often. Power Loader gets tired of his job at the repair company because there's limited opportunities to move up, and starts looking for a new job. Ecto is moving up as a hero. There's a lot of attention on him; he's in the running to become the number 1 hero when he takes on a job that requires a lot of discretion. Ecto just knows that this will give him the boost he needs to become number 1, and gets so caught up in trying to reach his goal that his overconfidence blinds him. On the day of the sting operation, he races ahead of the team he's with and corners the person they're after, who has a bone manipulation quirk. (she can morph the bones in her own body to use as weapons) She sends a razor-sharp sickle of bone his way, which he dodges. It curves around and destroys the clones he's using for backup, getting rid of his vision on everything but what's in front of him. Something sweeps his feet out from under him and Ecto falls to the ground hard. He catches a glimpse of the bone-lady getting away, holding something, but his head is fuzzy and he can't catch his breath. The rest of his group finally catches up to him and someone cries out, causing Ecto to turn and notice half his legs are missing and he's bleeding out. He falls unconscious just as they reach him.

-Power Loader is at work, just kind of running on autopilot. He's thinking about the jobs he's checked out, and about Ecto coming to visit in a few weeks. Break time comes and as he's heading to the cafeteria he notices a crowd in the break room. Curious, he squeezes in to see what's going on, and there on the TV is the report about Ecto being taken to hospital in critical condition. Power Loader is frozen in place for a moment before a coworker snaps him out of it, and he turns to leave - he HAS to get to Ecto. He feels like he can't breathe and sinks to his knees when he realizes it might already be too late.

-At the hospital several days later, Ecto has been stabilized. His agent fends off the worst of the press so that he can have privacy and time to recover. When Ecto is more awake, he refuses to fully acknowledge his missing legs. He does blame himself for not catching the villain though, and he's in a bad headspace, muddled by painkillers and self-deprecation. One day his agent shows up with a stranger in tow, and as he enters the room Ecto turns away and closes his eyes - he doesn't want to deal with anyone today. The agent introduces the man as the head of Prosthe-Tech, the company that will be working with Ecto to make combat-worthy prosthetics. Ecto vaguely acknowledges the man and hears footsteps approach his bed. When someone places a hand on Ecto's arm he pulls away and snaps at them, but then stops when he sees who it is. Power Loader greets him with nothing but relief on his face, and Ecto can't help but smile.

-Ecto's recovery is slow. Since Power Loader is currently working for Prosthe-Tech as a temporary gig, he's constantly by Ecto's side while his wounds heal. It's revealed that the doctor's couldn't reattach his legs because they couldn't find them, but there's very little other info about the incident. When it's time for Ecto to get measured for his prosthetics, he finally has to face his loss. He breaks down, and Power Loader holds him while he cries hard.

-Later, Ecto's finally healed enough that he's been fitted with prosthetics, and has been trying out various styles that Prosthe-Tech makes to see what will work for him. Power Loader's been tailing him throughout his rehab and physical therapy, taking notes on everything. Ecto is frustrated because he's in pain and none of the prosthetics work quite like he needs them to. The thought that he can't be a hero anymore starts to creep in, and he loses his motivation - Power Loader's the only reason he's even trying anymore.

-One day Ecto's going through his physical therapy like usual when Power Loader presents him with a set of combat prosthetics that he made specially for him. The head of Prosthe-Tech scolds Power Loader harshly about the peg-leg style design, but Ecto puts him in his place and insists on trying them. It takes a while to get used to them, but after a couple weeks Ecto reaches a point where he feels like the rehab treadmill is too easy. After a round of testing to check his progress, he slips away and heads to a nearby room set up with various obstacles meant for people at the very end of their recovery. Despite the objections of his nurses, his agent, and everyone else, he takes off running. He maneuvers the first few obstacles easily enough, and is delighted when he's able to catch himself from falling after a stumble. It gives him a boost of confidence, and as he turns he sees a rock wall with nearby targets hanging from the ceiling meant for people with flying quirks. He still ignores the shouting from his nurses and takes off, scaling the wall to the top before launching himself off and landing a solid kick on the closest target, knocking it to the floor. He's out of practice, but manages a passable roll as he hits the floor, coming to a stop. His heart's pounding as he turns and walks back towards the group, who's staring at him with their mouths hanging open. The head of Prosthe-Tech start to commend him but Ecto pushes right past him and engulfs Power Loader in a tight hug, giving him a tearful thank-you. Power Loader returns the hug, and they have a nice moment together as if no one else was around.

-Now that Ecto has prosthetics that fit his needs, his recovery speeds up a lot - he's able to use his clones to help work on muscle memory and get back into fighting shape. He still struggles with pain and self-doubt, but Power Loader is around to offer moral support and make adjustments to the prosthetics as needed. During downtime when the two are resting after therapy or while Power Loader is working on the prosthetics, Ecto struggles to come up with a way to tell Power Loader how he feels - he's unsure if their past fling meant anything or if they're just friends. He fights a LOT with his feelings, and when Power Loader has to leave because his contract with Prosthe-Tech is up, Ecto has a hard time saying goodbye. At the airport, Power Loader teases him like he did at the train station several years ago, but Ecto's smile disappears as soon as Power Loader does.

-Ecto gets back into hero work, but he struggles with his pain and has a hard time keeping up with his peers. He's in constant contact with Power Loader which helps, but he eventually feels like there's no point in trying to continue hero work - he just can't fight the way he used to. After a long night laying in bed awake, he makes up his mind. He goes to Power Loader's apartment and breaks down, saying he can't do this anymore. He cries hard again, exhausted enough that he falls asleep. He wakes up on the couch in Power Loader's arms, and doesn't want to move. Eventually his legs are sore enough that he has to (he fell asleep with his prosthetics on) and Power Loader makes him some tea and brings him a damp washcloth to wipe his face and legs after removing his prosthetics. Ecto is ashamed of himself for giving up, but Power Loader offers support and comfort.

-Ecto calms down some, and asks Power Loader what he’s been up to. Power Loader talks about how he's looking into becoming a teacher - it would give him the opportunity to work with support items in the way he's always wanted, and he could be the support teacher he wishes he had while in school. The conversation drifts, and Ecto can't help but find himself wanting to confess how he feels about Power Loader. He awkwardly tries to steer the conversation in that direction. He brings up their fling from several years ago, asking Power Loader if that meant anything. Power Loader reluctantly admits that he was head-over-heels for Ecto - and still is, much to Ecto's surprise. After realizing the feeling is mutual, they have a laugh about it and snuggle up together, talking about little nothings until they fall asleep on the couch.

-In the morning, Power Loader wakes up to see that Ecto is gone - but he left a note. Ecto arrives at the local news station in full hero attire to make an announcement to the public. The air is tense as he explains that he's stepping down from trying to become a top hero - he talks about his struggles and how hard it's been, but also about the support he's received - and if someone can make that much of a difference to him, why can't he do the same for others? He reveals that he's stepping down to become a heroics teacher, which is met with overwhelming approval. As Ecto is heading out of the news station with his agent, Nezu approaches him about an opportunity at UA.

-Later on after Ecto has been working at UA for a while, Power Loader has finished his teaching certificate (Ecto got a fast pass from Nezu, since he was already a pro-hero of high ranking) and has applied at UA to become the support teacher. He does well at both his verbal interview and teaching assessment, but because of the huge focus on heroics at UA he has to pass a combat test. He debuts his power frame for the first time here (he's used it for general testing, but not much hands-on combat yet) and Nezu has him face off against 3 of the staff at UA to see his fighting skills.

-His first match is against Midnight. He barely gets a chance to try his power frame because Midnight gets carried away, knocking him out with her quirk very quickly. Since he's asleep and unable to keep fighting, he loses this round.

-His second match is against Cementoss. He fumbles with his fighting style indoors. He's getting a better handle on things until Cementoss surrounds him in a concrete barrier, rendering him immobile. Though Power Loader manages to crack the cement, he can't get out and has to yield.

-His third match is against Eraserhead, but as Eraserhead steps towards the outdoor arena, Ecto cuts him off. Ecto questions what would be the point of Eraserhead being his opponent if he'll just negate Power Loader's quirk and defeat him instantly? He argues that the point of these combat tests are to see how Power Loader does in a fight. Eraserhead agrees, saying that how quickly Power Loader is defeated can be a perfectly valid way to test him. Eraserhead also accuses Ecto of wanting to go easy on Power Loader because the two are friends. They butt heads and Nezu has to step in. He allows Ecto to be Power Loader's last opponent, much to Eraserhead's chagrin.

-As Ecto steps in the ring, he warns Power Loader that he's not going to go easy on him. Power Loader seems to be considering something. When Ecto reminds him that this is his last round and he needs to make it count, Power Loader just smiles mischievously. As soon as the fight starts Power Loader surprises Ecto by rushing him. Ecto starts to manifest clones, the first of which Power Loader obliterates with a swipe of his massive power frame hand. Ecto regains his composure and fights back. While trying to deal with clones darting in an out, Power Loader can't react fast enough and Ecto lands a hit, knocking the wind out of him. He reminds Power Loader that he won't go easy on him, and to prove his point he manifests more clones, surrounding Power Loader. They quickly close in but Power Loader turns several of them away by dragging his hand across the ground in an arc, sending a huge spray of dirt and rock. By the time Ecto and his clones recover, Power Loader has dug his way underground.

-Ecto spreads his clones out quickly and stands still, trying to locate Power Loader. One clone takes a step towards where he thinks Power Loader is and is caught off guard when a massive hand bursts from the ground and grabs onto the clone, dragging it under where it's smothered beneath the dirt. Ecto shudders at the feedback he received before the clone dissipated, but holds his ground. Power Loader makes a few blind grabs, but can't tell where Ecto is and has to resurface.

-Power Loader tries to face them down, guarding himself more closely while he takes out Ecto's clones one by one. Ecto is circling him and realizes that Power Loader is trying to make him run out of clones. He spots an opening and darts in but is caught by a backswing of the power frame's massive metal arm, sending him flying. Power Loader cries out because he didn't mean to hit Ecto that hard, but after landing roughly Ecto lets out a huge plume of smoke and manifests his Giant Bites ability. Because of the power frame's extended reach, Power Loader is able to catch the giant clone by its jaws - just barely. It bares down on him and a warning light comes on in Power Loader's helmet. The mechanism in one of the metal arms gives out just before Power Loader yanks the giant clone to the side, throwing it to the ground. It explodes into a massive burst of smoke. While Power Loader is trying to regain his bearing, Ecto rushes out of the smoke, pinning Power Loader to the ground and demanding that he yield. Power Loader tries to get up but there's sharp pain in his shoulder. He yields, and Ecto staggers away as the UA staff approach them.

-Everyone is impressed by the way Power Loader held his own against Ecto, even though he lost. Power Loader tries to get up again, and realizes he dislocated his shoulder when the mechanism in his power frame arm gave out. Cementoss helps set his shoulder and Recovery Girl heals him up with a quick smooch. Ecto requests aid as well, revealing that when Power Loader sent him flying it broke several ribs and gave him a nasty bruise. Power Loader apologizes profusely even after Recovery Girl heals him up. Power Loader and Nezu have a quick chat to summarize his interview, but the two leave not knowing if Power Loader got the job or not.

-At home, Power Loader is being extra cautious with Ecto and keeps apologizing for hurting him. Ecto reassures him, and they have dinner together as they talk about how the interview went. Power Loader isn't feeling great about it, and Ecto isn't sure what to think; he’s worried he might have messed it up for Power Loader.

-The next morning, Power Loader continues trying to baby Ecto the moment he wakes up. Ecto keeps insisting he's fine, just more hungry than usual. Later in the day they pick up their mail, and Ecto presents an envelope to Power Loader - it's an acceptance letter, welcoming him to the staff at UA!

there are more scenarios that I've toyed with, including

-PL's mom coming by for a surprise visit, and PL having to explain that he and Ecto are partners/dating

-Ecto having a second encounter with the bone-lady that took his legs

-Private civil union scene that I dunno if I want to keep or not

-Ecto and PL visiting PL's mom in the country, with Ecto getting to know her neighbors and see PL in the kind of environment he grew up in (I headcanon that he was a country bumpkin who was really good at techy stuff - his mom works with cars/farm equipment and his interest in cars came from helping her fix things as he grew up) There’s some backstory about PL's siblings (that he didn't grow up with) and PL's mom struggling with her own issues and how it affected the way she raised PL. There’s also some backstory about Ecto's parents and why they're not really part of his life anymore, followed by PL's mom telling Ecto how proud she is of him then hurrying off to make them breakfast when Power Loader wakes up.

-Ecto feeling bad that PL keeps dropping his projects to take care of Ecto, and PL revealing that he almost did something really stupid when he was in high school because of how hopeless he felt, but after meeting Ecto it changed everything for the better. Ecto talks about how if PL wasn't there to help him through losing his legs, he isn't sure where he'd have ended up. Kinda sappy bit about how they saved each other from themselves.

#long post #ectoloader #ectoplasm #power loader #I've never been great at chatting casually about characters #so here have this massive info dump instead lol #Anonymous

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bubmyg · 5 years

Text

try three times - myg

pairing: yoongi x reader

genre/warnings: lawyer!au, established relationship, fluff, angst (with a happy ending!!), the introduction of seokjin’s character, nonchronological with my other lawyer!yoongi drabbles (linked on my masterlist!)

word count: 4,027

summary: yoongi doesn’t want to admit that seokjin knows what he’s doing or the one about three different weddings and where he proposes (kind of) while smelling like fish.

It’s easy to be in a room full of people and feel as though you’re the only one that doesn’t have their shit together.

For example, the banquet hall was filled with twenty-somethings who had probably ate ramen out of peculiar objects more than they had with proper cutlery in the past six months, but you couldn’t tell it at first glance. The twenty-somethings tucked into tightly collared shirts and lace hemmed dresses mixed among actual adults, family and friends of the wedding party becoming one moving machine, sipping alcohol and munching on weirdly shaped cheese poked onto the end of toothpicks.

Yoongi’s conscious didn’t have the heart to remind him that no one has a clue what the hell they’re doing, too overcome with the way he was clutching his champagne glass and trying to figure out an equation in his head for the amount of time spent at a friend’s wedding versus how many people you were supposed to interact with for it to be considered acceptable.

This is Seungcheol’s fault, his conscious instead convinced him, eyes narrowing on the aforementioned groom as he gripped a tight hand with a brand new diamond band strapped on one finger around his bride’s waist. Of anyone in the room, the bride and groom seemed to have their shit together. Seungcheol was graduating a semester early. They’d just moved into an apartment together. His wife had recently gotten a full time position with her summer internship.

Yoongi, on the other hand, had just switched his major, twice, only to end back up in what he originally started in. He would be a semester behind on credits because of it. He’d spent a strange three months in a fraternity. Law school entrance exam textbooks occupied every square inch of his desk. His shortlist of schools had only been narrowed to ten. He hadn’t touched his personal statement since high school.

And then there was you, a year old addition in his life that seemed to fill in all the puzzle pieces of things he wasn’t. He glanced at your empty chair to remind himself that you’d disappeared twenty minutes ago to get more to drink and to grab him a slice of cake, only to be held up in three separate conversations. He’d made it to get more champagne in less than thirty seconds.

He gulped at the sparkling liquid in his glass to feel it bubble in the pit of his stomach.

A paper plate appeared in his peripheral, something white with pink and gold chevrons racing down the center of it, geometric patterns cut off by the slap of white cake resting on the center of it. There was a plastic fork curling out of the treat, fingers gripped on the end of it as the utensil tore off a sizable chunk and lifted into the air.

“Mingyu cut the piece for me,” You muffled through the bite you plopped on your tongue, handing him back the fork to plop back into your chair, “Told him it was for you and he gave you a deluxe piece.”

Yoongi hummed, absently replacing your grip on the fork. He drug one pointed prong through a small blotch of icing that had fallen away from the cake. “I’ll have to tell him thank you later…”

“I told Jihoon to mix up the playlist a little bit.”

You were referencing the auburn headed audio engineer major who was hidden behind an array of open laptops and a giant headset at the front of the reception hall. Yoongi had a feeling he knew what you meant, but he glanced at you from the corner of his eyes anyway. “Oh yeah?”

“Yeah,” You leaned forward in your chair, nudging Yoongi with a soft grin, “I wore closed toed shoes for a reason. Need some non-toe breaking slow dances with my man.”

“Nice try, but I don’t think you’re going to get Jihoon to leave his equipment all alone, especially not with a drunk Soonyoung lurking around—”

You giggled a little bit but there was a sizable amount of offense held in the downturn of your eyebrows as you caught the apex of Yoongi’s elbow and tugged. When he glanced at you, cheeks full of cake, you shook your head, “I meant you, nerd. I want to dance with you.”

Yoongi paused in the next bite of cake he was cutting, blinking at your intense gaze. Something inside him panicked even if his outside demeanor remained calm. The mix of emotions within him clearly rained confusion in you, especially when he cleared his throat and went to set his plate aside.

“You know, I have to take that practice exam tomorrow morning. Jin is supposed to drive with me and I don’t want to, you know, hold him up or anything,” He averted his gaze the more hurt yours grew. He wrung his fingers together in his lap, uncrossing his legs to lean forward, still avoiding your eyes, “I was thinking we leave here in a second, if that’s okay?”

“Sure,” Yoongi heard it in your voice. He didn’t need to look up. After a moment, he saw you stand, dress fluttering past your knees in his peripheral, “Are you done with your cake?”

His eyes closed, knowing he couldn’t salvage your feelings by changing his mind, sucking it up, and asking you for a dance. Without a word, he nodded.

You disappeared with the plate in hand just as the first slow song of the night began to play.

“You have to work,” He told the string of fairy lights currently suspended by a few stick on hooks. Deft fingers continued to fumble at the battery packs, turning the batteries inside a second time, forcing the lids shut, nail curling into the on and off switch. Nothing.

Frustration made the battery pack, the heaviest part of the entire device, slip from his grasp, tumbling to the mountain of pillows pressed against your headboard and effectively yanking all his hard work with the lights from the wall. All that was left was a sad wooden shadow of your initials, nailed into the apartment walls. With no lights.

Yoongi had spent the greater part of the day decorating. The extensive list on your planner in the tiny kitchen said you wouldn’t be home until after dinner and he’d been determined to get something done.

It’d only been a few weeks since you’d moved into your first place together, just a week since he’d started his first required internship of law school and just a day since your classes had returned. Thus, plastic coverings still sat taped to the television and the window of the microwave and the pull on the blinds. Unpacked boxes made a mountain where there was supposed to be a dining table, an item you didn’t have nor could you afford.

But Yoongi could afford his day off to dig through the boxes to find all your favorite trinkets (picture frames, fairy lights, candles, the tiny porcelain cat you’d bought him as a joke) and arrange them accordingly. He’d finally set up the printer in the room you’d designated the office just to print off some of your favorite pictures together, losing a few nails along the process but managing to stuff the pictures into frames and scatter them along the walls.

The pair of your initials next to each other had been his own touch, a quick trip into a craft store where he felt rather underwhelmed by the selection and overwhelmed by the price he’d covered with his debit card. He’d hung them above the bed, center on the wall and the headboard, the dark wood matching the navy pillows you’d stacked to give, as you’d said, some sense of put togetherness.

A thought had entered his mind when he was shuffling through the options in the middle of the craft store. It would be so much easier if we shared initials. Just one giant M in the middle of the room…

He’d shied away from that thought when he finally located the curve of your surname.

Yoongi mounted the bed with a wheeze from both his lungs and the worn mattress springs, effectively ruining the decorative pillow mountain as he dug for the string of fairy lights. A similar strung together list of curse words left his lips as he pried at the battery pack again, the flower shaped lights dancing against his short clad legs until there was a gentle knocking on the bedroom door and he dropped them again.

“Bubs?” You took one step into the room before pausing, aweing around the space. There was a glint in your irises, one he could see from his compromising position, “What are you doing?”

“Can’t get your fairy lights to work,” Yoongi offered shyly, pink creeping to the back of his neck. “I think they’re the ones that were in your dorm, but—”

“If you used the batteries that were already in them, that’s why. They’re like three years old,” The mattress swayed as you clambered on to stand next to him, touching his hand where it had curled around his neck. You laced your fingers together, letting your arms dangle between each other as you again did a sweep of the room. “You did all this?”

An embarrassed sound of affirmation left Yoongi’s throat, watching you carefully. He nearly stumbled into the wall and his carefully hung lettering when you looped your arms around his neck, holding him tightly.

“Thank you,” You murmured, kissing his throat.

Yoongi was hesitant in the way he fit his arms around you, subconsciously leaning into your touch.

Just as soft, he nodded, “I’m trying…”

No amount of wine seemed to moisten his tongue where it was stuck to the roof of his mouth.

You were effortlessly gorgeous, as always, wrapped up in some emerald sequins number and a devastating smile that made his heart hurt worse than he could ever properly articulate. Yoongi’s cheeks hurt from introducing you, always coming with a shy yet wide smile when his classmate in question made some sort of playfully snide comment about how you were far too beautiful for him.

At Seokjin’s wedding, it was a bit easier to feel less overwhelmed. Yoongi didn’t know everyone, but he knew a lot of people. Despite Seokjin’s career path not exactly diverging to where Yoongi’s seemed to be going, they were still classmates and thus still shared a lot of the same acquatences, professors, advisors, coworkers. He knew what he was doing for the foreseeable future. He’d recently passed the certification exam, marking him as someone who could now, legally, practice law. He had a job waiting and available for him, one while not exactly ideal would suffice to get his foot in the door and his rent paid for the next few months.

Yoongi knew you’d be there, too, in his future. Even if his tongue dried every time he thought of how.

Except he didn’t have to ponder the never ending question of rings and proposals and weddings while attending a wedding. He just had to figure out how to ask you to dance. He’d never forgiven himself for hurting your feelings at Seungcheol’s wedding.

It was you that was trailing him the entire evening, him being the connection between most of the people at the reception and yourself. You were the stranger this time, not each of you mutually connected to the guests at the wedding. Yet, it didn’t stop you from becoming fast friends with Yoongi’s classmates and professional connections alike, dragging each of you into twenty minute long conversations about the state of nonprofit litigation and the staggering rate of black cats put down by animal shelters.

Breaks between people gave Yoongi the opportunity to wet his tongue with a splash of sacchrine wine, poke his tongue around the tulip shape of his lips, and attempt to ask, no matter the music playing through the loud speakers overhead, only to be interrupted again. And again.

And again.

Yoongi thought you were free by the time you’d nearly circled back around to your table where Taehyung and Namjooon were engaged in some sort of debate that involved the plastic knives from their baked chicken. He stopped you before you could sit, dragging crooked fingertips down the inside of your wrist to lace into your fingers and tug.

The muscle felt heavy inside his mouth and he couldn’t bring himself to hold your eye contact as his heart hammered wildly inside his chest, reminding him suddenly of all the things. Nearly five years together. Two apartments together. Both of your names on the car lease.

“Yoongi,” Your thumb swiped over his knuckles, immediately calming the roar of blood in his ears. A frown had slowly worked into the creases on either side of your lips, and you tugged back on his hand. “Is everything okay?”

He was a half second away from blurting out his impulse request, not caring about the nagging part of his subconscious that noted your open toed shoe choice for the evening when your grip was falling away from his.

“Sorry, Yoongi!” Seokjin cheered as he spun a drunk circle in the opposite direction with you curled tightly in his embrace, “I have to steal a dance from your girlfriend.”

Yoongi watched as happiness easily overtook your features, clinging to Seokjin’s shoulders as you threw your head back at whatever rambles were leaving from his friend’s stupor.

“Just wanted to know if you wanted to dance,” Yoongi murmured to himself, letting his arm fall limp to his side, “I hate myself for hurting your feelings every day that I can’t get my shit together and just—”

“Yoongi,” It was Namjoon saying his name, waving around his plastic knife. “You okay?”

Taehyung ignored the obvious discomfort on his friend’s features as he approached the table with dragging steps, still muttering to himself.

“What do you think about sporks?”

“Where are you going?”

The droopy bucket hat in Yoongi’s grip crumpled more, keys still clinking together where they dangled from his free hand. He turned cheek to shoulder where you stood in the threshold with your arms crossed.

“Fishing with Jin,” He lamented, “I told you that a week ago.”

“A week ago we didn’t have a closet full of laundry to do. Or a sink full of dishes to get done.”

You bristled at his involtunary check of his watch. “It’s only seven in the morning. We have all day to get those things done. I’ll help you when I get back…”

“I have to have our loan papers into the bank by tomorrow morning. Are we going to finish those too when you get back?”

“Yes,” Yoongi said simply, “There isn’t that much left to do on them.”

“For yours there isn’t. You’re the primary signee. I have virtually the entire packet left to complete,” After a second of staring angrily at him, you shook your head, “You know what, I’ll just do it all while you’re gone. Have fun.”

He knew you weren’t upset about a packet of questions you had to complete in order to approve you as a secondary individual on the loan for the house you two were planning on purchasing. You were upset about having to fill out an entirely different set of paperwork based on your relationship status. You’d voiced it tightly while handing him a second pen the night before when the ink in his had ran out.

“This would be so much easier if we were married,” You’d tried to smile when his gaze flicked up to yours but he caught it anyway. He was hurting your feelings. Again. Not because of the paperwork. Because of what the paperwork implied.

Because of the contents of the tiny velvet box that had been shoved into the front pouch of his laptop bag for the better part of six months, idle, without a finger to reside on.

The shut of the door behind him was just as soft as his pained, “Bye…”

Yoongi, numbly, let the reel release, watching the reflection of the blue tinted line as it soared into the water, landing yards away from him with a soft plop. He set the reel in his hands, gently turning as he watched the end of the line where it disappeared into the lake create tiny ripples as it slowly came back toward where he stood on the shore.

“How did you know?” Yoongi blurted suddenly.

Seokjin didn’t miss a beat, “Well, generally, the fish is big enough that you can feel it tug back on the line. You have to set the hook so it doesn’t get off but don’t let it swallow it because that’s not good and—”

“No,” Yoongi stopped spinning the reel to drop his pole into the stick made stand he’d pushed into the mud on the bank. Both his fingers went to his face, dragging down on his cheeks. “How...how did you know when it was right to propose?”

“Ohh,” Seokjin stayed silent when he cast his pole again, clicking gentle as he turned the tiny device. “That’s what this is about. Has she said something?”

“No. She doesn’t have to. I can just tell.”

“Is marriage something you’ve talked about?”

“Yes.”

“Is it something you both want.”

“Yeah…”

“Do you love her?”

Yoongi’s hands fell away from his face and his features screwed up starting from his nose and ending at the part of his mouth where he, almost offended, affirmed, “More than anything else.”

“Then what’s stopping you? You could elope tonight, if you want,” Seokjin eyed Yoongi as he brought in an empty hook, letting it dangle from a second in mid air before tossing it back out into the water, “We’ll be your witnesses or whatever—”

“I’m scared.” Seokjin stopped talking upon Yoongi’s blunt statement, quietly turning away at his reel until Yoongi continued, floodgates now let loose, “I can’t hurt her feelings like I continue to, but what if it’s worse when we get married. There’s never been anyone else and there won’t be anyone else. I have no fucking clue what I’m doing because of it.”

“You’re a lovesick fool,” Seokjin confirmed, “Hey, your pole is jiggling and as much as your my friend and whatever, I’d rather not lose it, so—”

Yoongi begrudgingly picked up the pole where it was bouncing around in the makeshift twig holder, slow at first in turning at the handle but releazing whatever was on the other end was going to need more effort from him. He grunted into the next few turns, “I can’t even fish right.”

“You never could. You waste my bait everytime we go out,” Seokjin shrugged, “But you try. And I love you, in like, a brotherly way. That’s all I care about when I ask you to come along with me.”

“Is this your weird analogy to tell me that I won’t know until we try and that love is all that matters in the end?” Yoongi stumbled in trying to tug back on whatever the massive object was he was bringing in.

“No,” Seokjin sat aside his pole, striding across the bank to slide the pole from Yoongi’s grasp. “I’m telling you to go propose to your soon to be wife while I get this moss off.”

“How do you know it’s moss and not a record breaking catfish?”

“It’s moss. Go.”

Yoongi found you curled up on the couch surrounded by half folded laundry, your eyes clearly lined in the slightest tints of pink and red, the loan application half open on the floor. He wasted no time, not wanting to hear your garbled inquiries as to whether he’d had fun or not because frankly, with how you were at the moment, he didn’t deserve to have had fun.

“I’m not giving you this, yet.”

Your attempt at a friendly expression morphed into a confused squint. “What?”

He dug the box from his sweatpants pocket, flicking it open to show you a glimpse of the glittering jewelry inside. “I’m not giving you this, yet,” He repeated. He approached you, knocking aside a stack of his hoodies to kneel in front of you, hand engulfing your knees while the latter placed the ring box on your thigh, “but I’m going to. Soon.”

You laughed in spite of yourself, gentle at first and then bitter on the end, “I’m not upset because you haven’t proposed to me yet, Yoongi. I don’t like the implications of that.”

“I know I’m hurting your feelings. All the time,” He lifted a finger when you went to protest, “You don’t have to spare my feelings, of all things.”

“I try really, really hard for you. All the time. But that’s not a guilt trip, I know I need to do better. I’m trying right now, to give you a glimpse of what I should have done a long time ago.”

“I know that,” He let you interrupt him this time as the tiniest of tears lipped down the slope of your nose, “I’ve never doubted that. I just thought you’d changed your mind.”

Yoongi wanted you to vocalize your feelings, so he squeezed your knee and offered, “Changed my mind about what, love?”

“About us. Our future,” You shrugged, casting your gaze aside, “Not that marriage is the end all be all or that it’s just a title that helps with some tax information it’s just...”

“What you want for us,” Yoongi nodded, “It’s what I want too. I haven’t changed my mind.”

“I didn’t really think you had it’s just...hard to not let myself think those things sometimes.”

“I’m sorry I ever made you doubt any sort of commitment I want to have in our relationship,” Yoongi leaned forward to chastely kiss away the droplets of tears clinging to the pouted round of your bottom lip. “I’m sorry I haven’t been trying hard enough for this, either.”

“I love you,” You cupped his cheeks, keeping his lips a fraction from yours.

“I can’t wait to propose to you,” He countered.

“And I can’t wait to say yes.”

Yoongi didn’t hear the words the DJ was projecting through speakers stationed at all corners of the reception hall. He was too focused on the swirl of lights on the dance floor, ones that had dimmed into a glittery gold and ceased to move in the calculated circles they’d previously been completing. The back part of his mind wondered did we pick that color? Gold matches pink...and then he glanced at the baby pink bow tie clipped onto his collar, one he subconsciously straightened as the DJ continued to chatter on.

He contemplated the color of the lights and the flavor of the cake icing and the extensive guest list in which half hadn’t RSVP’ed for the reception but now milled among everyone else and kept taking him away from you to chat. It was silent now, no one around him except others members of the wedding party around him, and he didn’t have to contemplate whether to seek someone out for conversation or search his subconscious for the name of your cousins’ significant other. He knew his next move, bending at the waist in front of the high backed chair you perched in and holding out a gentle palm for you even as the DJ continued to chatter over the soft applause of the guests.

“Hey,” Yoongi murmured.

You smiled under the gold lights as they cast shadows down the contours of your features, “Hi.”

“I like your ring,” His fingers crooked when you placed your hand in his to fiddle at the diamond studded band.

“I like your last name,” You squeezed his hand.

Yoongi’s lips covered your fingers, gentle in pecking each one, spending extra time on the one where diamonds reflected in the gold.

His voice muffled on the bend of your digits. “May I have this dance?”

You stood at that, gripping his fingers tightly.

“I thought you’d never ask.”

#bts reactions #bts scenarios #bts imagines #bts x reader #yoongi imagine #yoongi x reader #yoongi fluff #bts fluff #fic: lawyer yoongi

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harleenfleck · 4 years

Text

“The Joker and the Harlequin” Chapter 2

Joker/Arthur Fleck x Harley Quinn/Harleen Quinzel Fanfic

Chapter 1

Warnings: No one, just a little rejection to the protagonist.

Notes: Hey everyone! There’s the second Chapter of this story! I don’t put warnings in this one cause I don’t thinks there’s anything heavy to read. Maybe little fluff but it’s not fluff as such hahaha idk how to explain it.

More characters will appear in this one, some are my invention, others are from the Animated Series and some comics, and only one is from the movie and yes, that only character that comes from the movie is who you think is *Fangirl screams*

Well, hope you like it! Enjoy it! :3 <3

...

Chapter 2

Trying to forget the assault of the first hours of her day, Harleen finally got to her destination.

It was a huge hospital that, although it was in decline 10 years ago, was no better in those days. In fact, it was less bad.

Harleen came in with a lot of nerves. She told the receptionist that she was the new intern, while the receptionist was communicating with others, Harleen waited patiently (or at least tried) to sit down while she looked at her shoes.

Would she do it right? Would she give a good look with the choice of clothes she wore? It wasn’t too much makeup? Many questions bombarded Harleen's mind, but there was always at least a bit of optimism in her. She settled her glasses. Bit her lips. She took her hand to her mouth but remembered that there were only biting nails.

She looked at the bottom of a corridor and watched how some stretcher-bearers were carried a tied patient on a stretcher, while the patient yelled obscenities and meaningless words.

“Don't worry” She whispered to herself “Surely they'll give you patients who aren't so horrendous...”

She observed now her around, the cleanliness shone by his non appearance. When she noticed, she tries not to be uncomfortable.

She noticed how a doctor arrived in the reception room. He asked the receptionist something and pointed at her. Harleen got up immediately.

“Dr. Harleen Quinzel?”

“Yes, it's me, nice to meet you” She reached out her hand to the doctor. He looked her from head to toe.

“Oh” The expression on the Doctor's face when he saw who she was the new Intern made her more nervous than she had. “Nice to meet you. I'm the Director of the hospital, Dr. Jeremiah Adams”

Although she had not given a good impression, Harley tried to smile at the doctor to relax, however, his expression caused the smile to fade soon.

“Well Harleen, we'll go to your department, I'll introduce you to a colleague who’s the boss of that department...”

Harleen started following the director. The frivolity with which she was received made her feel that she should not be there. She would turn everywhere, looking at the white walls of the hospital, and occasionally meeting a nurse or patient.

They arrived at the sub-direction of Psychiatry, an area was made up of medical offices and archive offices.

“Dr. Joan Leland” The Dr. Jeremiah went to woman, she was tall, short-haired, and dark-skinned. She was on her back but she turned “This is Harleen Quinzel, the new intern, today she integrating with us”

“Harleen, nice to meet you”

“Thank you, nice to meet you”

“Well, I leave you, there's a lot to do in this hospital”

Before he said another word, the Director disappeared.

“Well Harleen” Dr. Leland spoke when she notices that Harleen's emotions were being felt outside “Before you begin, I must tell you something: We read your academic record and really took many of us surprise the fact that you decided that you Internship was here, in Arkham, your grades are excellent and your thesis is outstanding”

“Well, it's just... I didn't really have a choice”

“I'm sorry to hear that. But well, go with me, I'll show you the place and introduce you to those who will be your coworkers”

Dr. Leland began walking and Harleen began to follow her.

They arrived at a meeting room where two other doctors, they were in the middle of their lunch.

“Guys, come here. This is Harleen Quinzel, the new intern”

One of the doctors was a tall, natural blond-haired, white-skinned woman with green eyes. The other doctor was a man with brown hair, beard and light brown skin.

At the time they voiced Dr. Leland, said he would be back in a moment, leaving Harleen alone with his new colleagues.

“Hi Harleen, I'm Susanne Brown. You can call me Susy”

“Hello Susy” The two women shopped their hands. The man stood behind Susy, patiently waiting for his turn to introduce himself.

“Hello Harleen, I’m Guy Kopski”

“Hello Guy”

“So, your name it’s Harleen, it’s a pretty nice name, we can call you Harley?”

“Harley?”

“Yeah, like a nickname, like Susanne and Susy, sounds great, don’t you think?”

“Eh, thank you… But I preferer my real name”

The doctors looked at each other.

“Well...” Harleen tried to make a conversation”This place doesn't look as bad as I've been told.

“God, I can tell you're the new one. This places is horrible”Susy began to grumble”Every day put up with the same old lunatics, enduring that the air conditioning or heating doesn't work, patients starting to have seizures while you're eating, or as simple as when "The Patient" escapes”

“The Patient"?”

“Yes, one of the most problematic, I hope you have to treat it soon, we've tried everything and nothing seems to work. I've been told you're smart, maybe you could give him his cure, or his punchline”

Harleen, trying to smile again, wanted to try to respond to it.

“Well, thank you very much, I hope to do my best”

“Oh Susy, don't be so cruel with the girl, it’s new here” Guy began to mock.

Again, Harleen's insecurity attacked her and made her quiet.

“Oh Harley”

“It’s Harlee-”

“Anyway, I know you see us very relaxed and calm, but that's not why we accept anyone as a friend. I know Dr. Leland is a woman who wants us all to be holding hands and live a great friendship, but believe me, that's not gonna happen. We're just co-workers, you understand?”

The poor confidence that Harleen had trapped while talking to them decided to bury herself alive. Harleen crouched his head away, feeling ashamed.

“I-I get it”

“Good!”

To Harleen's fortune, Dr. Leland showed up back and took her away.

The two doctors left the offices and began walking down the hospital corridors. Dr. Leland kindly explained what each was all about.

“I hope you can get used to this place quickly, here's a lot of work to do”

“Yeah, I heard again about the new monetary cut”

“Oh yes, it seems that after 10 years politicians and millionaires don't understand. For the same reason of the monetary cut we have had to reduce the places of the Internship to only one, where you are right now. We were nowhere near closing all the places at least for this year”

Listening to that was as if Destiny told Harleen that she was always going to be her favorite toy to prove how miserable could become a simple person

“Oh, wow...”

They spent the next hours doing a tour in the hospital. Joan was someone very calm and tranquil. With kindness and patience, she explained everything she knew to Harleen and resolved her doubts.

“Normally in the hospital we do different types of therapy, electroconvulsive therapies are our last instance, but we usually use them, as you go forward, we will teach you how to manage the devices for when one of your patients requires such therapy”

“Sounds interesting, but isn't it dangerous?

“Yes, but only if you don’t know how to handle”

“Wow, that’s so many things I have to learn”

“And you will. Let’s go to the patient’s area”

The two doctors entered an elevator. When the elevator was down, Joan kept explaining more things to Harleen.

“What do you think about this place, Harleen? What do you think of Arkham Asylum?”

“Well, I think this place is… Well, I don’t want to sound rude, I’ve heard a lot of stories about this place, I thought was a horrible hospital but…”

“But?”

“It doesn’t look so bad, honestly”

“Oh Harleen, why do you think you're going to sound rude? It's an honest opinion, the most passive I've ever heard of this place being honest, I think”

The elevator stopped at that moment. Joan was surprised, because it was not the floor she had in mind. The doors opened, a man nurse with a tired and sweat-filled face was on the other side.

“Ladies, you'd better get out of this elevator, we're moving "The Patient" to another cell”

Harleen looked at Joan, she looked very upset.

“For God’s sake, do you have to do it now? I'm with this girl, it's the new one and there may be risk...”

“I’m so sorry doctor, but they’re already coming with him”

Making a grimace of frustration, Joan turned to Harleen.

“Harleen, this is a very dangerous patient, just follow me, keep your head down, don't lift it out for curiosity and don't maintain eye contact with this patient”

"Ok...” Unsure of following the instructions, the two doctors came out of the elevator. As they heard the nurse screaming that they were preparing, that the elevator was ready, Harleen's temptation to look up was so big.

She heard footsteps coming to where she and Dr. Leland were, her eyes stared that her superior was going to the front with the same position she ordered her to do.

Her first mistake: Move her eyes.

Her vision began to follow the sound and she saw the feet of the nurses and "The Patient" who was told she will not look him in the eye.

Curiosity killed the cat, and Harleen was a very curious cat.

Her eyes slowly rose to the face of this "Patient".

She saw a man with green and pure eyes, much purest than her eyes, and she understood why Joan told her she would not look him in the eye: She was already in his sights.

Harleen looked away, but two seconds later he dared to look back at him again, and looked the face of "The Patient" completely. White skin, wrinkles next to each of his eyes, a two-day beard, his hair reached to his shoulders and was dark in color with one graying.

And of course, a smile in his face.

Harleen, feeling the weight of that patient's gaze, nervously smiled back and relaxed her neck and shoulders, now raising her head towards him. She observed in that man's face there was a little surprise and at the same time satisfaction.

The two, after crossing their paths, continued with these, Harleen followed the doctor and "The Patient" followed the passage of the nurses who were upon him.

Harleen couldn't stand curiosity once more, turned her head back to see him one last time, and he was doing the same thing, smiling at her. She couldn't help but give a smile.

“Harleen?”

Harleen immediately turned to the doctor and followed her, for she went very far ahead than her.

“I’m-I’m sorry! I get a little nervous and-”

“Oh, don’t worry, everybody in this hospital we get very nervous when it’s about this patient in special” When the elevator was heard close up, the doctor prayed a little “God, take care of those nurses…”

“Eh? That patient was… Very bad?”

Joan looked tenderly and quietly at Harleen.

"I don't know you very well, but I think you sin of innocent. I'll tell you who that patient is, he's one of the most dangerous ever, because thanks to him, Gotham is immersed in the crime”

Harleen's eyebrows hunched over.

“Really? What a horror... Dr. Leland”

“You can call me Joan”

“Oh, well, eh Joan… who’s that patient?

"Who is him? Oh Harleen, that dangerous patient in Gotham is known as the Joker”

At the time, Harleen felt someone push her off a cliff.

Being shocked, her eyes opened to her where her eyelids allowed her and her mouth alike.

“T-T-T-That man? H-H-he it’s…?”

“Yes, the Joker. Now you understand why I prayed for those nurses”

Harleen looked back at the elevator, incredulous. She looking at the doctor, she was totally and completely surprised.

"But... But... In person it… He doesn't look like...

“In person?”

It was time to confess to Dr. Leland that she had not followed her instructions, but she decided to tell her the truth in half.

"... A moment ago, I... I turned around a little bit, just as we got over him and we were already away, he was looking back. I don't, I-“

"Ah, it's okay Harleen, I don't think I recognize you from afar, I think he don’t have good eyesight. The problem would have been if you'd seen him head-on”

Harleen swallowed at the time, but tried to be disguised.

"Anyway Harleen, we still have a lot to go through this hospital, the next room is where we usually meet when there are Bioethics committees...”

She couldn't hear Dr. Leland after that. She still nervous with every step she took.

She had read about him, the murders he had committed, how he had earned the nickname "The Clown Prince of Crime," and how he managed to reunite his kingdom in one night.

And at the same time, he was the only person who dedicated a warm welcome to Arkham with that smile.

In her memory, Harleen couldn't help smile. But when she realized that, she tried to behave and keep her composure.

“Eh... Joan, I’m sorry, but I have a question”

“Of course, Harleen, what happen?”

“When I am assigned patients... To treat them obviously, will I be able to choose or decline them?”

“It’s about the Joker, isn’t it?”

Grieving, Harleen lowered her head.

"I would really be afraid to have a consultation with him”

"Harleen, listen to me, I know Arkham is not the best psychiatric hospital, but even at the best of all there are always completely dangerous patients who can't be treated by anyone. Anyway, I’ll warn you: Patients like the Joker are really hardcore psychopaths, putting the Joker how your patient it would be like throwing a lamb at a herd of wilds wolfs. He'd eat you like breakfast for be the beginner. So, on that side, don’t be scared, the Joker will not be your patient while you stay here

“Oh, thank you, thank you so much Joan”

"Don't worry, anyway, he hasn’t seen female psychiatrists in a long time, the last time a female psychiatrist treated him was a tragedy, she ended up suffocated by a chain of his wives”

The fear was too obvious and quick in Harleen.

“What... What horrible...

"That's why we wouldn't even let you be with that kind of patient”

"Thank you...”

“Well, continuing, in this hospital we made…”

The day went too fast. Lots of things to learn, and a lot of patience to have.

When the day was over, Harleen was assigned an office, where her workspace would become.

Sitting down, she was thinking about her first day. She was thinking about the Joker's smile. And every time she did, she blush and smiled unintentionally.

"No Harleen, no” She said to herself "He's a madman, he's a criminal. He'd kill you as soon as he had the chance... If he had the chance”

Harleen reloaded in his chair and thought of those words. She closed her eyes. About half an hour later she had finished her turn at the hospital. She'd get out of this and take the train again. She was praying not to be unlucky as in the morning.

She arrived at the station, as soon as she came down, she noticed that there were many people gathered at the station. She approached and saw that many people were taking photographs at the site where the Joker had murdered the three men on Wall Street. It was a tourist spot for weird people.

She shook her head, didn't want to think about it, went up the stairs and went to her house.

She walked a couple of streets from the blue and cold Gotham, it was the beginning of Autumn 1991. She came to her apartment. So tired, taking off her medical coat.

“I am in home mom!”

“Wow, you finally came”

This time she had an answer from her mother.

"I had a lot of work today; it was my first day" Harleen would leave her purse and her coat on the couch "But you know what? I did pretty well today, Arkham is not as bad as it’s seems”

"And why don't you lock yourself up with those crazy people? Harleen, Arkham is the worst place in Gotham, the most dangerous place in the world"

“Actually, Chernobyl it’s the most dangerous place in the world, I read…”

"You don't understand what I mean? Well, you are stupid anyway”

Harleen ignoring that, walked to the kitchen, knew she was going to get a shower of insults from her mother.

“I can’t believe it yet Harleen, you’re a little bitch, why you didn’t sleep with one of your teachers? You could have got out of Gotham and leave me, why didn’t you? You already have experience to be a bitch”

Harleen lowered her head when she heard that horrible words. Her mother knew things hadn't happened like this, but her mother didn't believe her, and she never believed in this daughter. Cleaning her tears, Harleen took a plate of cereal and started eating them at the bar.

“Goddammit, have you watch the news? That masked one it’s in the mouth of everybody in the city, I’m tired of him”

Her mother was a woman who physically look like Harleen except for the age, the complexion and the color of her eyes. She had olive eyes.

“Mom, have you had dinner yet?”

“Yeah, I ate a donuts and coffee with milk”

Harleen sighed a little disappointed.

“Mom, I told you mom, you should to eat healthier”

“Bah, either way I’m going to die someday”

“Yes, I know, but from that stretch before you die you will suffer many sicknesses. I don't want any of that to happen to you, I want to see you healthy and- “

"Did I ask for your opinion of my life?" The mother abruptly interrupted her daughter "You want to fix many aspects of my life after you ruined it. Because of you, your father left the house, and if he hadn't left, he wouldn't be dead."

Harleen just crouched her gaze full of guiltiness.

“I know mom”

“And if you already know why I have to tell you again? My life began with my illnesses and blames after your father abandonment us. Today it’s the anniversary of his death, you remember?

“Yes mom…”

“Well, go to your room and don’t fuck with me. Goddamn, what causes a teenage madness”

Harleen didn't want to listen to her mother anymore, she just walked with his dinner in her hand to her room and locked herself in. She was trying to eat she cereal as the tears overflowed from her eyes. She wanted to remember the events of ten years ago, and all they provoked was that she would end up crying more and more. She left the plate in her dressing table, took off her clothes to put on her silk pajamas and lay down on her bed.

She was trying to sleep, but in a place like Gotham, and especially at that time, it was even harder to sleep. But she could have it asleep. However, her dreams did not usually be quiet, the next day she woke up alarmed.

She stayed in her bed for a couple of minutes.

The life always be like this, without having a chance to change everything?

Leaving thinking, she got up, showered and began with the same routine of the previous day.

After an hour she arrived at the hospital, and before entering, she said to herself a couple of words:

"Nothing that happened yesterday really happened. No matter how much affects you, Harleen, get on with your life, and pretend that everything goes well in it, you could do it for a decade, you can do it a year here...

Harleen entered the hospital and with a shy smile on her face, greeted everyone who was there:

“Good morning everyone!

...

"Oh yes, I'm the great pretender

Pretending I'm doing well

My need is such I pretend too much

I'm lonely but no one can tell"

- Freddie Mercury - "The great pretender"

#Joker #joker fanfic #Joker fanfiction #Joker x Harley Quinn #Arthur Fleck x Harleen Quinzel

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paint-pilot · 4 years

Text

shit it’s been a second, guess it’s time to update again

edit: holy christ this is long, i’m gonna readmore it. tl:dr tyler has many badweird feelings but is getting through it. fun body changes, including hair growth and an unexpectedly nice voice. surgery and legal matters are Annoying. tw for menstruation

it is truly bizarre to think that i’ll have been five months on t in a little under two weeks. another month after that and it’s half a year. it’s uhh...weird. quarantine has just made this all feel weird. it’s like i fast-forwarded through this whole journey i was supposed to go on i guess? like i got randomly torn out of my life one day in march with no warning and then just as suddenly got spat out in august with a new life - new name, new face, new major, new identity - and no transitional period whatsoever. my classmates, my professors, my students, they all have only known me as tyler. and only ever will know me as tyler. and that’s great! it’s great, and i’m truly just blown away by how markedly easy it’s been and how weirdly good my timing was in transitioning. but it almost feels like i’m still a ways behind everyone else, i guess. i’ve spent so much of my life hiding, and lying through my teeth, and covering my ass every second of every day to protect myself, and i don’t have to do that anymore but the instinct is 100% still there and that honestly doesn’t feel good. of course i’m not making any of it up - i’m happier now than i’ve ever been, and i know i’m making the right choice - but it still persistently keeps feeling that way.

it’s just difficult, i think, to balance wanting to be read as male (and, to a large extent, wanting to keep my transness hidden both for safety reasons and so people don’t start treating me differently) and finding it difficult to hide this truly massive life change that, like, four people are really seeing anything of. and y’all, i guess, lol. it’s one thing to talk about all this in therapy, but it’s another entirely to just be able to share it with strangers and not worry about it being weird.

i was writing this with the intent of it being a mostly happy update but i guess there is some negativity boiling up so. gotta be honest, i guess? there’s a lot of fun trauma stuff i’ve been going through lately that i won’t get into but it’s culminated with this bullshit in this really fun way where my mom gets upset because i get kind of uncomfortable when she shows me childhood photos or tells stories about me as a little kid and then i just break down for reasons i really can’t discern. i’m going to try and articulate this, and who knows how messy it’s going to get, so i apologize if it gets kind of incoherent from here on out. as far as i can tell the root thing that she really gets upset about is that i’ve “thrown away” my whole previous identity. like, not a direct quote, but “you can’t just pretend [deadname] never existed. because she did, for a long time.” and...sure, i guess. i know this has been hard on my mom. i know she was raised in a conservative family, and while she has worked hard to adopt an accepting and open mindset she still doesn’t 100% grasp all of it and will make mistakes. i’ve made my peace with that. and yet. it’s not so much, really, that i was this other person and then became tyler, y’know? tyler did not appear suddenly two years ago where she once stood. tyler put on a mask, even before he knew he was tyler, because tyler was scared and ashamed but people seemed to like her and, for a time, she was an easy person to be. and i hated her. that is so fucking scary for me to say, and i’m not sure i’ve admitted that until literally right this second, but i did. not because she was a bad person. because she had a voice and a face and a body that i hated. because people saw her and assumed they knew me. because even she had many faces, because there was no real base or identity to her, just traits designed to paint a pretty picture and make people like her. because i knew, when i finally threw her away, people would miss her. compare me to her. expect me to be like her.

so i don’t know. i don’t have a satisfying way to wrap this up, because i honestly don’t know how to face this because i know it is absolutely not just the trans thing that created this situation. i’m kinda warring with myself, because i do kinda want to go back through this blog and delete photos of myself with long hair and whatever (because jesus, i’ve had this thing since i was like 14) but i genuinely don’t know if that’s healthy. i know i’m going back on my bullshit, fretting this way and that over whether something is “healthy” as though that’s an objective term without considering what’s going to make me happy, but honestly? i don’t know anymore. i keep sensing the mental block - the swathes of my childhood that i cannot recall, just vague, constant unease - and i don’t really know if i want to dig into all of that and learn what lies underneath because i’m sort of afraid of it. like i said, i’m happy now, happier than i’ve ever been, and i’d sort of like to just leave it like that. but i guess the length and tone of this post might argue otherwise.

anyways. anyways. enough mental health therapy, more actual hormone therapy updates since that’s what this goddamn thing is supposed to be i think? i’m finally starting to grow some noticeable hairs - my chin hair is coming back after my mom made me shave it before i left for school lol, as are a handful of mustache/lower lip/sideburn hairs. i keep feeling phantom bugs on my legs/feet and i’ve only just now recognized that that’s just leg hairs brushing against places i’m not used to. my appetite has picked up like absolute hell again, too, so i don’t know if i’m just having a metabolic spurt or what. also, i’ve started bruising more? idk what the hell that’s about - i fucking never bruise unless i’ve been hit Hard, and i kind of assumed testosterone would make you less likely to bruise, but then that’s probably just not related to the hormones at all. i was gonna put this in the tags but seeing as this post is already so long i might as well put a readmore and just put this here lol: my period is late, like, four days late, which is exceedingly unusual for me and might mean i’m finally done. or almost done. fingers crossed.

my voice has started to settle, it seems like. i popped out an e2 yesterday, which is Sick, but i’m not as focused on that anymore as i am on the actual quality of my tone. which is...good? i’m not just a baritone, i’m kind of a good one, at least it seems like. i’m really working right now on just getting familiar with my instrument - i’m second-guessing my pitch sensitivity a lot, but i think i really just need to drill and practice until everything starts feeling like second nature again. but since the musical didn’t happen for me, my coach wants to enter me in a classical solo competition next spring. so...no more retirement from competitive singing. i’m back! and thank god, because i’m starting to go crazy without being in musical work lol.

jesus fuck, i have a lot to say. i should probably split this into two posts but i don’t care. i am frustrated; i tried to get an appointment with a pro bono legal program for a name change, but it happened today and i wasn’t invited so apparently i’m on my own. and i’m frustrated. i’m trying to look at internships and shit for next summer, but i kind of can’t apply right now because my legal name and sex don’t line up with my presentation, and i don’t really know how easy it is to get away with that in this day and age and especially in my field. genuinely, if anyone has any advice, i’d appreciate it. i don’t know how long this will take, i don’t know what the requirements are, i don’t know if i’m better off just applying now and hoping they don’t eliminate me before ever getting me an interview. and, of course, i’m working on getting consultations for top surgery, but i keep catching myself procrastinating that. which seems weird, but listen. i’ve said it before but i have to emphasize, i am capital-t Terrified of getting this surgery. i know i need to, i know it will make things better for me, i know now is the time, i know i hate binding and can’t really get away with not doing so, but jesus fuck i am so frightened of anesthesia it’s not even funny. but i guess i’m mostly just calling myself out here and telling myself to quit being a big baby, schedule the thing, and give myself a few months to prepare.

anyway. that’s all i have to say. i’d apologize for ranting, but honestly...i dunno. i know at the start of all this a handful of you requested these updates, and i have to imagine it’s because at least some of you are transitioning, are thinking of doing so, or know someone who is or will be soon. and i just hope someone out there can at least relate, because there honestly just aren’t a lot of comparable life changes out there. or maybe this is just therapeutic for me, that’s fine too.

i have two midterms next week i should be studying for. i should do that.

#t.txt #not horses #the puberty diaries #menstruation mention

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quicksilversquared · 5 years

Text

Zippers and Zigzags

Marinette enjoys her fashion design classes, at least most of the time. Sometimes, though, one of her assignments ends up posing a bit of a problem for her and she ends up stuck, trying to find inspiration from- well, from anything.

Thankfully, she has a certain cat to make sure that she doesn't work herself too hard...and to provide a not-so-occasional source of inspiration.

links in the reblog

---0-0-0-

Marinette groaned and banged her head against the desk as she tried and failed to come up with any designs to fit the prompt that her professor had given them. She hadn't ever really thought to make hardware the center of a design- she preferred to make the fabric pattern or the techniques shine- and now that hardware was meant to be the star...

Well, she was coming up short. But she was the wielder of Creation, so surely she had to come up to something eventually.

"What hardware do you have?" Tikki asked, flying forward to look over Marinette's shoulder. "If you put out a couple pieces of each, maybe it'll inspire you!"

"I don't want to go out and buy something, though!" Marinette protested. "I have some things, of course- zippers and buttons and snaps and a couple of those studs left over from the coat that I made for Jagged Stone. But those are all little accessories, not centerpieces."

Tikki perched on Marinette's shoulder. "But that's the point of this assignment, right? To make little accessories into the focal piece?"

Marinette groaned some more.

Thirty minutes later found Marinette sitting in the middle of her floor, bits and bobbles sitting around her. All of the hardware that she owned had been found and pulled out, and now she was staring at the pieces with an increasingly frustrated expression on her face. She had been a little inspired by some of the things, but none of the things that she had sketched up had any of the hardware as any sort of focal point, just as smaller accents.

That was how Adrien found her, sprawled out and groaning into her hands.

"She's stuck on an assignment for class," Tikki told Adrien as he warily entered the room and circled around his (somewhat unresponsive) girlfriend. "I think it's a cool opportunity, and having all of this stuff out has given her ideas for designs, but none of them fit the prompt."

"Ooh, that's rough," Adrien said sympathetically. "Can I ask what kind of design it's supposed to be? Streetwear, avant-garde, runway, anything you feel like?"

"Thankfully, it's whatever we want," Marinette told her hands. "I would die if there were any other constraints to this. Not that there are many constraints yet, just that it's a hard one. Hardware has to be the focal point."

"Are your friends from class having the same problem?" Adrien asked. "Can you brainstorm together?"

Marinette made a face. "I'd hate to do that, because then who knows if I'll get as much out of the assignment? I might inadvertently use them as inspiration instead of the prompt. Though I do know that Esme is focusing on having a zillion belts on her design. It's... well, I feel like that's been done before."

Adrien nodded. "That it has. Even- even Father did it, though that was entirely when he did an avant-garde line to try to get Gabriel to branch out."

That got Marinette to glance over, her expression turning concerned. Even after two years, Adrien's parents were still a bit of a sore point for him. Adrien flashed a smile at her, to reassure her that he wasn't going to be upset. She smiled back, then turned back to contemplating all of the odds and ends on the floor.

She didn't move at all in the next twenty minutes. Adrien moved onto the lounger, pulling out his Bio homework to work on. Every so often, he would send a concerned look at his girlfriend.

"If you're stuck, maybe you should step away from it for a bit," Adrien finally suggested. "You're just going to dig yourself into a hole if you keep working on this. Go get a snack, go on a walk, work on something else and just forget about the assignment for at least half an hour. At least."

Marinette startled, her eyes snapping back into focus. Apparently she had zoned out a bit. "I- but I have to start this soon! I need to come up with a design, I need to go shopping, I- I-"

"You don't design well when you've been trying too hard for too long," Adrien finished firmly. "And I'm going to up your step-away time to at least two hours. Seriously. Shoo."

After several more minutes of waffling about- she needed to get started at least a little bit soon, so that she could get an idea of what sort of timeline she needed to be looking at- Adrien finally won their debate and Marinette found herself wandering downstairs, with her kwami but without her sketchpad. Adrien hadn't trusted her to not relocate and just keep on trying to come up with a design.

"He's probably right about a break helping," Tikki said as Marinette wandered into the kitchen to make herself a snack. "You've been working so hard lately! You had a whole slew of projects to finish up, and then a couple exams, and then that publicity thing as Ladybug, and then you helped your parents with several large order, and you had birthday presents to make for- what was it, three people? Four? And you applied to three different internships, too. You've been overworked lately."

"That's just how design school is," Marinette insisted. "I knew that second semester would be worse that the first, that wasn't a surprise. And it's just going to keep stepping up from here. I need to plan better, that's all."

Tikki looked dubious. "I think you planned very well. You've been trying to fit in more credits than the average person. I think taking the normal load might help."

"But school has so many good classes! They all have such valuable things to teach me, and I want to take as many as I can." Marinette finished making herself a sandwich and then headed for the door, Tikki floating along behind her. "There's techniques classes, and costume-making, and designing for menswear and women's clothing, and embroidery class, and-"

"Are any available over the summer?" Tikki asked. "So your school year load isn't so heavy?"

Marinette just shrugged. Really, it wasn't a matter of her being overly busy. She had a good handle on her coursework. It was just that this particular class's current assignment was proving difficult. It wasn't a required class, which was probably why Tikki thought that the slightly heavier course load was too much, but it did force Marinette to think outside of her normal design box, and that was a good thing.

Well. Most of the time, at least.

Marinette headed out the door with a wave to her parents and a heads-up that Adrien was over and probably would be staying for dinner. Then she was wandering, watching other people passing by and taking a mental note of some of the styles that she was seeing. She had to force herself to stop doing that after a couple minutes, remembering that Adrien had sent her out to take a break from fashion for once. So she focused on other things, the feel of the breeze in her hair, the chatter on the sidewalks, the birds singing in the trees and the cars rushing by.

It was nice.

She wandered along the Seine, watching the boats moving past. Some kids played in a park along the riverbanks, kicking a ball back and forth, and Marinette stopped to watch. It felt nice to not be rushing around for once.

Three hours and some-odd minutes later, Marinette got back to the bakery with a new plan in mind. She would sleep on the whole hardware design thing, and in the meantime knock a few assignments for her other classes out of the way. She would set aside a couple hours this evening to hang out with Adrien before he had to go home (even with as relaxed of a guardian as Adrien's bodyguard was, he did still ask that Adrien not stay the night with his girlfriend, at least not yet), and then she would actually go to bed on time. Then she would take another stab at the design tomorrow, or at least do some searching on the internet to find some inspiration.

That was the plan, at least, until she got up to her room and found that her boyfriend, apparently bored after being left alone for several hours, had flopped down on the floor and was amusing himself by making patterns with all of her assorted hardware bits, swirls and zig-zags and smiley faces covering the floor.

And inspiration hit.

Colors and textures and shapes came together into one as Marinette shot across her room for her sketchbook, ignoring Adrien's yelp as he rolled out of her path, too used to her sudden bursts of inspiration to get in her way. She could feel him come up behind her as she half-sat, half-fell into her chair, pencil already out and heading for a blank sheet of paper. A fun summer dress made its way onto the paper, arrows pointing to half-drawn shapes on paper and circles around other lines. Five minutes later, Marinette sat back, holding her sketchbook out in front of her to survey her newest design.

Yes, that should work. And it would work well.

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

Marinette couldn't help but smile as she got her mannequin set up next to her workstation. While it had been a little difficult at times to bring her vision to life- finding a fabric that would hold up to the hardware instead of being pulled down was difficult, especially since she was trying to make a summer dress, and it ended up being a combination of slightly heavier fabric and Adrien's find of lighter-weight hardware for her to use that worked best.

She would have been lost without his help, honestly.

Around the classroom, people were unpacking their finished projects. Marinette couldn't help but notice that there were a lot of people who had gone for leather pieces, metal shining against the dark material. There were pieces with cross-crossing belts as the focal point, and she couldn't help but be glad that she had decided from the start not to go down that route. One person had knit fine chain into a draped jacket, which looked cool but no doubt weighed a ton. Another one of Marinette's friends had knitted a tank top, threading long metal beads onto the yarn so that the result was a dangling metal fringe. There were studded tops and jackets, one jacket with a very prominent, very gorgeous diagonal zipper running from one shoulder to the opposite hip.

And then there was Marinette's knee-length cream-colored dress, bronze zig-zags breaking up the fabric. Some of the zig-zags were zippers, both wide- and fine-toothed. Some were studs. One of the rows of zig-zags was tightly packed eyelets of different sizes. The zig-zags started wide at the bottom of the skirt and got narrower as they went up They weren't all the exact same shade of bronze, but that just added to the charm.

It was fun, it was a little funky, and it was different.

"Oh, that's gorgeous, Marinette!" Esme exclaimed, appearing behind Marinette. She started circling Marinette's design as Marinette slid it onto the mannequin, zipping up the- paradoxically- hidden zipper running up the back. "It's so different than what everyone else has done! Leather and hardware is such a natural combination, but you've made it different."

Marinette couldn't help but smile. "Thanks! I'm really happy with how it turned out."

"I wish I had thought of something like that instead," Esme admitted, turning to gesture to her own piece. The criss-cross belts came together in a large, decorative buckle. It was eye-catching, but Marinette was sure that she had seen something similar before. "This was all I could come up with. And it's nice enough, but... a solid third of the class has done a variation on belts."

"I was coming up blank until Adrien started playing with my odds and ends bin," Marinette admitted. "He had made some patterns on the floor with stuff, just because he was bored, and it- it just clicked. Making a relatively straightforward dress that uses the hardware as the pattern? I figured that it would be fun."

"It is fun! That's a dress you could totally wear out on a date." Esme grinned at Marinette. "Which you were already planning to do, weren't you?"

Marinette's smile turned a little shy as she ducked her head. "Well, since Adrien was the one who inspired me, it would only make sense, right?"

Esme laughed. "I don't think that the two of you necessarily need an excuse to go out on a date, from what I've seen. You're too cute together."

"We make a good team," Marinette acknowledged, trying not to laugh as she said it. A lot of people told her and Adrien that, and they didn't even know half of how very true that was. Adrien was her boyfriend, her superhero partner, her best friend, the (occasional) keeper of her sanity, her fashion design sounding board, and a fairly constant source of inspiration. No matter what they tackled, she knew that they would always be able to do it together. After all, even if they were retired superheroes, there was a reason why they had been picked to be with each other.

"I'm really lucky to have him."

#Miraculous Ladybug #My writing #marinette dupain cheng #adrien agreste #Finish the Alphabet challenge

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the-studious-archie · 4 years

Note

Hi! I'm about to apply for my first internship (incoming 4th yr archi-student) and am quite unsure how to get started. I would like to ask some tips especially we are being encouraged to do everything online due to current circumstances. I hope you could help me, I'm quite nervous and frustrated as to how to prepare for it

Hi there! I first off want to wish you good luck. I don’t know about your area, but around my area, I’ve seen mostly senior positions available since the virus hit, with kind of slim pickings for internships and those of us just graduating. This morning was the first time since starting to look that I think I’ve found a listing I actually qualify for, not having years of experience in the field outside of school.

That said, a few things that might help:

1. I’m assuming you’re required to complete an internship/co-op for your program, meaning that there’s probably a coordinator of the internship program that should be, at minimum, giving out advice on how to find a job, especially now. Since this virus hit, my university has been more lenient on what sorts of positions they’ll accept for co-op credit, and in some cases, if students legitimately can’t find work, they’re willing to award the credit anyway, since they still did their part to attempt to find a job. I would talk to whomever coordinates your program’s internship arm, and potentially your dean. If it comes down to it, they may be able to work with you to award the credit under different circumstances than normal.

2. Scour job listing websites. I especially recommend checking Indeed and Glassdoor (at least if you’re in the US. I’m not sure if/to what capacity they operate outside the US.) Also, if there are firms that you’d really like to work for, be sure to check their websites as well. A lot of firms - at least the larger ones - usually have a “Careers” page with their current availabilities listed.

3. Gear your applications to the positions you’re applying for. At minimum, it’s probably ideal to have two versions of your resume - one geared towards more technical positions, and one geared towards design-heavy positions. With portfolios, unless you’re dealing with a maximum file size for upload, you’re probably okay to just have one that covers both technical and design.

4. Be willing to be flexible. You may have your heart set on working for a certain company, but they no longer have available positions. Be willing to set aside your dream job and look for alternate opportunities available. Last summer, with my first internship, I wound up working for a 3-person firm (not including myself) that worked with outdated software and some rather... interesting clients and contractors. Don’t get me wrong, they paid me well considering I had no real architecture experience, and I learned how to work around a lot of technical issues, but the only way I’d go back to that office is if I absolutely can’t find anything else. It’s not the kind of office I’d want to work in long-term, but for a summer, it was an okay payout.

5. If you don’t already have it, you’re most likely going to want to get Zoom. I’ve heard of a lot of firms that are still looking to hire using Zoom to do video interviews. Some might also use other software. If contacted to schedule an interview, make sure you know what method the company is using to conduct it.

6. Don’t wait on one firm to confirm or reject you before applying to more positions. There were a few firms I interviewed with last summer that took weeks to get back to me. In that mean time, I kind of idled, rather than continuing to apply to other positions, at least at the same rate I had been. There are probably a handful of opportunities I missed out on just because I never looked. Even if you’ve had an interview, keep applying to places until you’ve received a confirmation that you are being hired.

7. Lastly, be patient. Applying for internships and jobs can be nerve wracking in normal circumstances, and with this virus going around, there are a whole new set of stressors for both companies and potential employees. These are crazy times, be patient with yourself, and be patient with the companies you’re applying for.

I hope this helps at least a little. If you have any further questions, feel free to reach out again. My direct messages are also open if you want to talk that way too.

#archie asks #job search #architecture student #architecture studyblr #Anonymous

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imhereforbvcky · 6 years

Text

Make Me Believe - Part 7

Senior Year: F is for Finals and Feelings and Failure

Masterlist - Series Masterlist - Part 6 - Part 8

Summary: You keep meeting Bucky Barnes in unexpected places around campus and he keeps acting like you know each other, like you’re dating. As your friendship grows, you find yourself wishing he’d do more than pretend.

Warnings: swearing, drinking, 2 idiots doing their idiot routine

Word Count: 1900

Bucky dragged you down the block with your arm locked under his as you approached the club. The thundering music reached your ears long before you spotted the serpentine queue of patrons waiting to slip inside.

“Bucky, no,” you groaned.

You were not a huge fan of clubs, generally, but this club in particular was at the bottom of your list. It was flashy and gimicky, and way too expensive. Worse yet, every other night was a theme night, each one more ludicrous than the last.

“Oh yes,” he chuckled, holding your arm tighter and pushing forward. “It’s perfect. It’s too laughable to take seriously. We need to lighten up. This is our new friend-date spot.”

You sighed, ceding the point. One more night. “What’s the theme tonight?”

“Tight and bright,” he grinned, spinning you with a flourish out from your spot tucked into his side. Suddenly the vibrant outfit made perfect sense. Your brightest yoga pants fit right in with the line ahead and the light sweater Bucky had picked was already glowing violet under the club's ultraviolet haze.

“How come you’re not in dress code?,” you demanded as you came to a stop outside the door. With tequila still heavy on your tongue and buzzing in your fingertips and toes, you nearly stumbled into him.

“Don’t need to. How many times have I told you, make friends with bouncers.”

“Uh never? You said bartenders.”

“Okay fine, befriend b-people. Bouncers, bartenders…” he trailed off, trying to think of another.

“And Buckys,” you smirked, tapping his nose with the tip of your finger.

He laughed and took your hand before stepping to the door. The bouncer knew him immediately and they shared a short, loose hug and a few casual words. After a quick scolding about dress code, he let the both of you through.

It was like stepping through the wardrobe into Narnia. If only Narnia was a bad 80’s fantasy. The lights were dim and there was artificial fog rolling low on the floor. Brightly colored laser lights flashed across the room in erratic patterns. Everything was plastic and fiber optic.

Exactly how you remembered it: flash and gimmick.

The patrons wore very little, thin and short neon spandex dresses, tight denim in light washes that glowed violet under the blacklight. The staff wore even less, illuminated by the glow of the bar, or the play of light off the fog. One bartender leaned forward with a tall royal blue drink complete with swirly straw and a bright red maraschino cherry.

Another wandered past in roller skates and spandex shorts, holding a tray of jello shots. He stopped and offered one to you and Bucky. You reached for your wallet, but before you could withdraw the cash, Bucky had embraced the man and stood laughing over something shouted in his ear over the rumble of the club.

“Don’t worry about it, honey,” the man waved you off before disappearing into the crowd.

“You really do know everyone.”

He shrugged and guided you deeper into the fray where you danced and drank until you forgot every last one of the million reasons you shouldn't.

After a full night of sugary drinks in jello cups and fake syringes and plastic test tubes, the pair of you were beyond drunk. You stumbled into the cool night air, tucked under Bucky’s arm, nearly doubled over laughing. You’d danced and laughed and drank until you were dizzy and couldn’t tell which of those three was the reason.

“‘M tired, and it’s so hot. ‘M skipping my run with Steve tomorrow,” Bucky slurred as you pointed down the sidewalk in the direction of his apartment.

“Tha’s fair,” you agreed, “Think I sweat off more per ounce than I drank.”

Bucky snorted his disagreement. “We had a lott of jello shots. Jello’ssstill alcohol.”

“But I dinn’t drink it; I ate it,” you argued, stumbling into his side. “‘Cause it’s a solid.”

“Is it?” His face scrunched up in thought. It made you giggle and want to lean up on your toes and kiss his crinkled nose. “Or is it a non-newtonian fluid?”

“Nooo, ‘cause issa square.”

“Oh yeah,” he frowned.

“C’mon, engineer, you should know this!” you teased, pinching his side.

He laughed and folded over, dragging you down too with his weight across your shoulders. This was where your heart lightened, where it became so difficult to let go. The laughter came easy and the trepidation faded to a shadow with every squeeze of your shoulders, the warmth of his laughter in your ear.

“Notthat kind,” he defended. “Mechanical doesssn’t care ‘bout jello. But Tony would know!” he lit up with excitement. “Let’s call Tony!”

“Bad idea, Bucky!” You snatched the phone from his clumsy fingers and smiled softly at his pouting. “It’ss 1:30 in the morning an’ you’re gunning for an internship at his dad’s company.” You pointed at his chest with a clumsy jab. “Plus, you know I’m right.”

“You’re so smart,” Bucky mumbled, squeezing you tight to his side. He kissed the top of your head and you laughed, too drunk to be upset, too happy to realize you should know better.

You really should know better.

Surely, this was merely the high before the next crash that would break your heart all over again.

“Я тебя люблю,” he muttered against the crown of your head. (I love you.)

“Hmm?” you giggled.

“Но ты мой друг,” (But you're my friend.) he complained dropping his cheek against your hair. “Но ты больше чем просто друг.” (But you're more than just a friend.)

This was how you knew Bucky was well and truly drunk. He had a penchant for languages that astounded you. There was no foreign language requirement for an engineering degree, but Bucky had somehow managed to take on three, that you knew of. Meanwhile you and Steve struggled through French together, barely remembering simple verb conjugations while Bucky was nailing case endings in multiple alphabets. Clever bastard.

“Bucky I can’t understand you,” you chuckled as you made it to his doorstep.

“Что мне делать?” he asked, warm palms braced against your cheeks. (What should I do?)

It felt clumsy and strange but the way he was staring at you, had your brow furrowed, trying to see. Confused and drunk and entranced you shook your head slowly, trying to convey again that you couldn’t understand a word he said.

He looked down at you with big serious eyes and a deepening frown. There was a strange sadness to the turn of his lips and the softness in his eyes. As if, by shaking your head, you'd answered his question without meaning to or even knowing how.

“Но я думаю... я влюблен в тебя.” (But I think… I'm in love with you.)

You pursed your lips, watching the odd play of earnest feeling and drunken glassiness dance across his eyes. “I don’t know what you’re saying, Buck. Let’s just get you into bed.”

Upstairs, Natasha woke to the shuffle of clumsy drunken feet and the hush of giggling voices below Steve’s window.

“Everything okay?” Steve asked, seeing her shift upright and peer out the window, down onto the stoop where you and Bucky approached the apartment Bucky shared with Steve.

She sighed but didn’t lay back down, watching, listening. “Our idiots are here,” she whispered.

“They patched things up; that’s a good thing,” Steve mumbled. He winced at the light from his phone as he checked the time. “Bucky’s been a pain in the ass for weeks.”

“It’s not a good thing for her,” Natasha complained. She remained pressed to the window, listening, making sure they made it inside when she heard it. Bucky and his stupid mouth. She froze for a moment. “ ‘M gonna kill ‘em both.”

The following morning Bucky stumbled out of bed with the acidic bite of nausea on his tongue and the pulse of a hangover deep in his skull.

His first coherent thought was, Never again. Followed quickly by, How the hell did I get home?

He finally made his way downstairs, still scrubbing the water from his freshly showered hair. Steve stood across the counter from Natasha. Bucky didn’t bother to greet either on his path to the coffee pot.

“You seen Y/N?” he asked as he poured a cup. “Thought she would’ve stayed here last night.”

His eyes flicked up to his friends and he finally registered the hostility brewing icy and dark. Natasha stood resolute. Her glare beat against him like an early winter’s sleet.

“She slept on the couch, I think,” Steve explained around a mouthful of oatmeal. “Left an hour ago. Not even she can withstand the wrath of Romanoff for that long.” He grinned, clear blue eyes darting to his partner’s. She didn’t spare him so much as a glance for his playful jab.

“Ты идиот,” (You’re an idiot.) Natasha seethed quietly before taking a quick spoonful of grapefruit.

“What?” Bucky returned her glare.

“У тебя есть чувства к ней.” (You have feelings for her.)

“What are you talking about,” Bucky focused too closely on his cup.

Natasha rolled her eyes and let the spoon fall heavily onto the edge of her plate. Its loud clank rang through the apartment like a shot.

“You know exactly what I'm talking about,” she leveled at him. “She might not understand your second hand Russian but I do.”

“I don't even remember coming home so…”

She only glared. Not accepting his excuses, however true they may be. You don’t fall in love with someone over one drunken night. To her, the pertinent facts remained unchanged. He was lying and they both knew it.

She hadn’t so much as mentioned his return the night before; he did because he knew exactly what she was talking about.

“I thought you weren’t going to interfere?” Steve smirked, leaning his hip on the counter.

Her sharp gaze snapped to Steve for a moment before she finally pointed an angled hand toward Bucky in frustration. “He’s in love with her.”

Steve laughed while Bucky sighed heavily and rubbed his forehead, too hungover to parry this attack.

“Well obviously. Have you seen them together?” Steve chuckled between sips of black coffee. “They’re like an old married couple. Best friends my ass.”

“You have to tell her,” Natasha scowled at Bucky.

“I have to tell her nothing,” he sighed, leaning his head back against the wall with his eyes closed.

“But you’ll say it in a thousand ways she can’t understand? Confusing the both of you? Keeping her close enough to make you feel just good enough? You never say what’s important when it counts, do you.”

“I tried! She’s with that Quill guy!” Bucky defended. “If I tell her now I’m just the asshole who poisoned that and ruined this.” He gestured to himself, shaking his head in defeat.

“Идиот.” (Idiot.) Natasha shook her head with a deep frown while Bucky threw his hands out in frustration. “Bы оба” (Both of you.) “He broke up with her at the end of last term, Bucky!”

Even hungover as hell and stinging from the pain of this conversation, his attention snapped at her revelation.

“What?” he rasped. “Why didn’t she tell me? What happened?”

“You, Bucky.” The crease in Natasha’s brow deepening as she wondered how he could be so goddamn dense. “She wouldn’t give you up.”

Next Chapter >>

#bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky college au #bucky fanfic #make me believe 7 #mmb 7

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the-fault-in-our-guts · 5 years

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Hi I guess I’m a lab rat

INCOMING LONG STRESS RANT

So I’m doing my dietetic internship this year and I’m about to start my clinical rotation in a hospital on Monday. For those of you who don’t know, I have an immune deficiency and cannot make B cells/antibodies to fight infections, so I get IVIG subQ infusions every week to protect me and people around me. I also have Crohn’s disease and take immunosuppressants for it (haha). So because of all this, I can’t get live vaccines. And in case you don’t know, internships usually require updated vaccinations especially if you are working with a vulnerable population. So here is a chronical of what I’ve been dealing with for the past 4 months in order to get approved to do my rotation:

My school nurse is in charge of all the interns’ health forms, which were due mid-July. They required that you received all previous vaccines, such as Hep B, MMR, varicella, etc, 2-step TB skin tests (which I can get), a flu vaccine, and standard physical. I had received some vaccines as a baby before they realized I was immune suppressed but not all of them. I filled out the form and got everything done that I could and had my pediatrician write a letter to include with the form explaining my condition and that I’m protected by the medication that I receive.

My school nurse got all the documentation and, after consulting with the doctor at the hospital I’m interning at, decided that my pediatrician’s letter wasn’t enough. She wanted to talk to my immunologist and ask her specific questions, which I get. However, my immunologist was out of the office for a while on vacation and I couldn’t reach her when I originally asked for a letter (that’s why I then went to my pediatrician). So I contacted the immunoligist’s office and got her PA and asked if she could talk to my school nurse and answer any questions she might have. She agreed and said it was no problem. I filled out two release forms for my school nurse, one for the pediatrician’s office and one for the immunologist, so she could get any other info she needed.

I eventually received a call from the PA again. She said that my school nurse needed a lot of information and she was just going to write a letter explaining everything to include with my file rather than go back and forth with her. The only thing was, she needed me to get some bloodwork to go with it and sign a medical release form from their office. Which is all fine and good, but the form cost me $50 for whatever reason. I was like, okay, whatever, fine. I got the bloodwork done, paid the fee, and faxed the form.

Then, I had a meeting with my school nurse a week before the internship started. She said that everything was almost (almost!) sorted out with the hospital doctor. Basically, they were willing to waive my vaccinations if I met two conditions: if I filled out a Hep B waiver, and if I got the flu shot. For whatever reason, my immunologist said that I could get the flu shot since it’s a dead vaccine. I have no idea what the benefit is since I can’t develop an immune response from it, but oh well. I was getting pretty annoyed at this point with all the extra steps and fees, but I just smiled and nodded and got the stupid flu shot and faxed the record over. Also was pretty terrified cause the last times I got an actual vaccine was when I was 3 and I was nervous I’d get knocked down by side effects or something, but luckily that didn’t happen.

THEN, three weeks later, my school nurse called again on the Thursday before my clinical rotation was supposed to start. Apparently, she never got the letter from my immunologist that they were supposed to write after I got the bloodwork done. She said that something had happened with the bloodwork so they never wrote the letter. She told me that the doctor still was unsure about my condition and wanted to verify my T cell function. I had told her previously that my T cells are normal, but she said she needed it in writing from a doctor. They also weren’t sure if my TB test results were valid. So, she wanted me to go get a chest X-ray to verify that I don’t have TB. I’m super irritated at this point, it’s like everything I give her is not enough and they keep ordering tests. I asked her if I could send her the results of a CT scan that I had last July, but she said no cause it was over a year ago. So I was like, fine, just send the order and I’ll do it tomorrow, my last free week day before this whole thing is supposed to start.

THEN, she emails me and says she just talked to the doctor at the hospital and the previous CT scan results might actually work instead of doing the X-ray. She told me to contact my GI doctor that ordered the X-ray and get them to fax the results over to her. So I called the main GI nurse line and left them a very forced calm but urgent message explaining the situation. I didn’t think that this would work out since it’s always so hard to get doctors to do anything quickly (exhibit A: the failed immunology letter) but I also didn’t want to pay out of pocket for a chest X-ray not ordered by a doctor and therefore not covered by insurance.

The GI nurse got back to me the next morning and said that they faxed the results over to my school nurse. I was so relieved, finally something was going right! I emailed the nurse and asked if she got it, and she emailed back and said she did, but there was “important information missing” and she had called the GI nurse line back to try to retrieve it. She said she’d update me when she heard back.

THEN, some lady from my immunologist’s office called me. She said that she had just talked to my school nurse about the bloodwork that had...gone MIA? Been compromised? Lost? I don’t even know. Basically, she wanted me to repeat the test. I was super confused because I thought that it wasn’t necessary anymore since we were pursuing the CT scan results route. I asked her when she had talked to my school nurse about this, thinking that it was from forever ago, but she said she had just had the conversation a few minutes ago. So I was like...uh, okay. Fine. I’ll go get the test done. I was already out doing errands anyway. I didn’t know what it would accomplish since it apparently takes 2 weeks to be read. But whatever right?

I got to quest to do the blood test, and the guy looked up the test and the computer and was like “oh no, we can’t do this test today. It has to be done on a Monday-Thursday from 10am-1pm.” ?????? Wtf?? What the frick kind of test is this? I just stared at him and blinked and was like “okay” and walked out. I’m so over everything that’s happened that I don’t even give a shit anymore. I don’t know when I’ll get that test done seeing as my clinical starts this Monday and I’m doing M-F 8:30-4:30 every week until December. I’m just so done. I’m done being monkey in the middle between my doctors and this school nurse that I’ve never talked to before in my life until 4 months ago. I should be focusing on my learning and also my UPCOMING BUTT AND FISTULA SCOPE T_T I’m so stressed out and I want to scream.

Sorry about all that, it’s literally ridiculous and I do not want to deal with it anymore so I’m word vomiting it out here so I don’t snap and say something rude to a nurse that’s connected to my internship that could then give me a bad reputation. It sucks cause I’m so frustrated and stressed and upset and I have to suppress everything and let these doctors jerk me around just so I can go do my required clinical hours for the internship. They’re acting like I’m a walking time bomb going in there about to infect everybody. And it sucks cause I completely understand why they’re being so careful and I don’t blame them. But it’s so frustrating that everyone keeps poking and prodding and running all these tests and treating me like a lab rat. It’s so overwhelming.

#ibd #crohn's #crohn's disease #crohns #crohns disease #medical records #health forms #internship #immunology #immune deficiency #chronic illness #spoonie #life of a spoonie #spoonie problems #spoonie probz

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sickofyouandyourcormanobullshit · 6 years

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It’s Time

I’ve been debating with myself this question: If it were me, and one of my favorite blogs just stopped updating for no reason, would I prefer they make a whole giant post about why they’ve left or just have them fade off into the night? I still don’t really know what the right answer for that is, but I figured that, y’know, it is about time I put the final nail in the coffin and closure is nice, actually.

So, yes. I’ve decided to put this blog on indefinite hiatus.

No, I am not deleting this blog or the YouTube channel. Ever. No matter what happens, just the existence of this blog is very important to me. Even when it stops being posted to, just having the archive there for everyone to have is a fandom necessity. In fact, I’m still looking for websites to back up this blog in case Tumblr goes t*ts up (making sure there isn’t any female presenting nipples, of course).

But, this has been a long time coming, I feel. And for that, I’m sorry. I’ve tried everything I could to keep this going for as long as I possibly could, but there’s just nothing left in me now that wants to keep this blog active.

So, from the bottom of my heart, thank you all. I’ve been at this since 2014 (Fucking! FIVE years!) and my time here could not have been better. You all treated me with so much kindness and respect, putting your upmost faith in me to archive and update as efficiently as possible. When I started, I couldn’t have ever predicted this blog becoming a fandom staple, that it would eventually become the backbone of a community that desperately needed a platform and a voice for their hobbies. I know that when I look back at these times, I’ll always feel happiness that I had the chance to give people this opportunity at all.

If you’re interested to know the nitty gritty about why I came to this decision, it’ll be below the cut. It’ll be a bit (a lot) more negative than what’s been said until now, so if you just want to end this on a happy note, than I’ll be happy to see you off. Goodbye!

Okay, so. I’ve got a couple major reasons why this has come to be.

1.) My personal life is in shambles. For those who may be reading this that were/are active on the Discord server, you may have noticed that I’ve also straight up disappeared from there as well. This is because a lot (A loooooot) of things have gone awry in my life and they’re kinda tw worthy so I won’t divulge too much detail in this regard! Just know that life as an adult is hard as heck and I’ve kinda run short on time to be able to handle the amount of responsibility that this blog/channel requires! I’m an adult in college that only has spare time to look at Twitter fleetingly and then go back to looking at internships and build my social media presence as a professional! All I have time for is work, work, and more work! Ah! (Also I generally have just come to really feel anxious when it comes to even opening Discord/Tumblr so I’ve just gone to avoiding them all together. I couldn’t feel more shitty about this development than I already do).

2.) I’ve lost interest in this fandom. This one is so hard to admit because I’ve kinda been denying it for a reeeeal long time, but, uh, yeah. I’m someone who’s in a fandom for the long haul. There are fandoms that I’m in that I’ve been a part of for over 10 years, with content being minimal. So, this absolutely has nothing to do with the inactivity really, because I was honestly real content with just having my bubble of Discord friends and have that be my fandom experience. It’s just, uh....

3.) I really hate PewDiePie. I really, really, do. I absolutely detest everything that this man has become, what he stands for, and the fanbase he has accumulated. I know he’s on the internet’s general good side right now so this could cause a bit of flak to come my way, but god damn. He was the first YouTuber that I ever truly fell in love with when I first watched his Facade videos back in 2012. Today, in 2019, I unsubscribed from his channel. (Yeah, I know, big whoop. First world problems. Cry me a river liberal). But, generally, I’ve become really frustrated with him and his viewpoints. I hated that, just because I had an attachment to him and what his channel has done for me over the years, I was able to give excuses for all the bullshit he’s done. If it were literally anyone else, I would have never given them so many free passes. At some point, I just asked myself if it was worth it to keep being so hypocritical to the values I hold in such high regard and keep myself watching his content even though it deeply infuriated me, just for the nostalgia and good times that he provided me once upon a time. It sounds so unnecessarily dramatic when he’s just a YouTuber who I don’t know personally, but this essentially boils down to “Okay, I don’t have time to keep putting up with this constant source of negativity in my life, when I could so easily just cut it off and spend time doing something that is more valuable to me”. So, yup. That’s where I’m at with that. I’m basically turning away from all PewDiePie related content. Y’all can keep watching him though, but don’t think I don’t side eye you when you’re a leftist who gets mad at other content creators but keeps turning a blind eye to Mr. Felix.

That said...

I love Cry. I still love Cry. I feel like I will always love Cry. I will support him as best I can because he is so deserving of all love in this world. I don’t know anyone who is as self-sacrificing and generous as he is, so this is your reminder to catch up on his content if you’ve been kind of putting it off lately lol.

Of course, all of this is subject to change. These problems are all so temporary: Maybe, one day, in three thousand years time, I’ve got so much free time I don’t know what to do with it, PDC fandom starts thriving, and PewDiePie stops being a piece of shit. That’s why I hesitate to claim this blog is Dead 4ever. There might come a time where I come back! So, indefinite hiatus it is.

And, really, that’s all I have to say for now. Send me an ask, tell me I suck for being an SJW or whatever, or we can cry together. I don’t know. I won’t be back on Discord anymore, though.

Goodbye!

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angeltriestoblog · 5 years

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Second sem (and freshman year) recap

It’s pretty hard to believe, but another chapter of my college journey is finally over and done with. Since I had ended the first half of the school year in such high spirits, I didn’t really believe upperclassmen when they warned that things were only going to get harder from there. In fact, I even thought I’d be the one to prove them wrong! I mean, with a class schedule that looked like this, how would I run out of time for all the things I both needed and wanted to do? My Tuesdays and Thursdays were practically free, save for that one Math class I had to attend in the morning that I surprisingly never cut.

For the most part of the semester, I was in a chill state compared to everyone else. I claimed that I had successfully adjusted to the demands of higher education to the point where I found what once was an unreasonable workload to be manageable. I was able to make time for my home org’s activities and devote enough attention to the only project I was deployed to, which I touched on a bit in my first recap blog post (linked here in case you want to jog your memory). As previously mentioned, I was assigned as one of the Documentations Heads under the Information Management department of the Career Building Program, a three-phase event that gives its participants a glimpse into the corporate world. We kicked things off with a resume writing workshop that I was lucky enough to join. The facilitator assigned to me gave useful insights that I was able to apply in the creation of my own curriculum vitae, which I am keen on using when it’s my turn to apply for internships and jobs in the future. I obviously don’t have much on it yet, seeing as I’m just a freshman, but the idea of filling it up with more experiences over the years is exciting me in ways I cannot explain.

Our group was even given the opportunity to explore the studio of the country’s biggest network, where we were briefed by executives in communications and IT and toured around the sets of our favorite shows. We even ran into Luis Manzano while he was filming Minute to Win It! Unfortunately, I wasn’t scouted by any representative from Star Magic and spontaneously put in a love team with Donny Pangilinan, but I guess that’s alright.

I also went to Talent Night with some friends (not in pictures: Gela's boyfriend and ICA barkada), which is shocking since I’m honestly not the type to attend parties like this. I’ve always been the girl who stayed home and binge watched YouTube videos on a Friday night. But, I guess the drunk confidence of those I was with rubbed off on me and I managed to pull through! It was also a plus that Timmy Albert was one of the performers: I do pass him by along the corridors quite frequently, but it’s just different seeing him sing and play an instrument in front of a crowd, especially since I’ve loved Roses and Sunflowers even before I got into Ateneo.

One surprise that I definitely did not see coming was participating in Daloy, our annual program that revolves around corporate social responsibility. This year, we decided to shed a light on how this could be seen in the Philippine clothing industry, so it seemed fitting to hold some talks featuring prominent figures in this field, as well as a fashion show to exhibit the collections of local brands that advocated sustainability. I was really interested in the concept when I first heard of it, and initially wanted to go as a mere audience member - little did I know that I would be tapped by the committee to model! To this day, I don’t know how or why I was chosen: from what I know, there were even screenings held a week prior to the event to determine who would get to walk the runway. But, I was messaged three days before and in that short span of time, I had to fit clothes, find pieces in my closet to match them and perfect my walk (which took several tries on my part, given the fact that when shy, I’m stiff as a board).

Agreeing to join was a huge step out of my comfort zone - the closest I’ve ever come to strutting on a catwalk was back when family members would ask me to “walk like a fashion model” as a kid during reunions. So, the fact that it had all paid off in the end, and that I was even complimented for the way I looked and performed beyond what was probably expected, was definitely a huge confidence boost for me. I couldn’t have done it without Nelly, Daloy’s project head who patiently guided me through the entire process before the show.

Shoutout as well to the other ACTM upperclassmen who were so friendly to me this school year. We may not have any pictures together, but you deserve a spot on this post nevertheless: Gella, my "boss" (hehe) who was always so patient when I asked questions and even went out of her way to say such kind words about my writing; Sam Que who made me feel like we had already known each other for so long even if we had just talked for the first time, and Ysagab who constantly reassured me that I was doing a good job even if I was looking like such a rookie.

My presence in events wasn’t limited to those of ACTM, though. I also went to the Loyola Film Circle’s Under the Stars, where I was able to see the live performances of OPM acts and watch one of my favorite chick flicks beneath the beautiful night sky. Since it took place the day after Valentine’s, I was surrounded by Ateneans and their significant others (who didn’t hold back at all when it came to publicly displaying their affection), but I didn’t even mind since I was content in the company of both my college constants and high school friends.

I dropped by Sulyap as well, which was the culminating activity of the Ateneo Heights Writers Workshop and the launch of the chapbook of their fellows. It was one of the busiest Fridays of the school year, but I still made it a point to go, because I wasn’t about to pass up the opportunity to be a part of something organized by my dream org, Ateneo’s premier literary publication. As much as I love my course and the people in it, I have to admit that I haven’t been able to exercise much of my creative side. So being in a room full of like-minded individuals and hearing them speak lengthily about their works and the process that brought them to life was a refreshing experience, a much-needed break from the usual routine. My personal favorite was Unica Hijas by Mikaela Regis, which revolved around a lesbian couple trying to make their relationship work despite the fact that they study in a conservative, all-girls high school - a setting which is all too familliar to me.

It’s also worth noting that I was sorta able to tick a particular item off my freshman year bucket list. And I say sorta, because… well, you’ll see. It’s been a dream of mine ever since to watch a UAAP basketball game live, show up to the arena in a bright blue shirt, cheer as loud as I can when a player makes a point and raise my fist in the air while Song for Mary plays in the background. But, even if I’m consistently in school by 6am, I was never able to get tickets - I couldn’t match the efforts of some fans, who would camp overnight just to get their hands on them. But, just when I thought there was no more chance for me to show my school pride at a match, my friend Mika offered me a free ticket to the Ateneo Lady Eagles’ volleyball match against FEU at the Filoil Arena one Wednesday. We weren’t really on speaking terms before because we were from different cliques, but after bonding over K-Pop, I saw how nice and chill of a person she actually is. So, I didn’t want to turn her down even if I was hesitant to go at first. You see, I was never a fan - in fact, I didn’t know how the game went despite the PE lessons I had back in Grade 5. (Ms. Abella, if you see this, I’m sorry.) But, it didn’t take a lot of convincing for me to agree and I ended up enjoying way more than I thought I would. Fortunately, I was able to catch on when it came to the rules of the sport: the energy of the crowd was contagious as well, and the performance of the players was way too good it was impossible not to shout either out of triumph or frustration. Once we made it to the finals against UST, I even found myself waiting for announcements on where to buy tickets. I didn’t get any though, because they were either sold out due to the ever-increasing demand (ALE fans don’t play around) or there was a conflict in schedule (hi, Enlit play).

Despite this, I streamed the last game and screamed like I was actually in the venue myself. Apologies to all our neighbors, who probably thought someone was getting killed in the house beside theirs. I was so proud when they brought home the championship after three years, I even bought a Team Ateneo shirt (it’s not that hard to guess whose name is on the back) and went to the bonfire with my friends Gwen, Julia and Lou. I had hoped to meet and take a picture with the players, but they were already far too wasted when I arrived. Like, seriously. I saw Maddie Madayag chug a whole bottle of Mule right before my eyes.

So, you could say that it was all fun and games (quite literally) for me until hell weeks eventually rolled in. Plural form intended. I found out that all my professors were just holding back every major requirement until the very last stretch of the semester. Suddenly, my schedule was chock full of presentations and final papers, comprehensive exams and extra classes that put my time management and endurance to the test. I spent many days in Matteo Down just like before, but also started going to the floor above it in case I wanted to suffer in the company of more people. The studying would only continue once I got home: I’d pull all-nighters despite my brain’s and skin’s desperate cries for help, as manifested in my worsening acne. I don’t think I’ve ever felt that stressed in my life, and it’s scary to think that that’s only the tip of the iceberg in the Ateneo.

Coping mechanisms I’ve picked up to help me deal with these unavoidable circumstances would be trying every restaurant along the Katipunan area whenever I had free time (which I will elaborate on more extensively in another blog post, so do watch out for that!) and eventually discovering Pancake House’s corned beef hash, which I love so much I once had it thrice in the span of a week. Another one would be the addition of yet another emotional support K-Pop boy to my collection. After watching My ID is Gangnam Beauty over Holy Week break, I fell in love with Cha Eunwoo and his god-tier visuals, mild demeanor, impressive English skills and heartfelt determination. This led me to binge watching reality show episodes and furiously putting the entire discography of Astro on loop. If you look at my Last.fm, you could see how Crazy Sexy Cool easily climbed to the top of my most played songs, sitting prettily at the #1 spot with over 300 plays in just a little over two months.

Although I constantly had to bear the pressure and stress on my shoulders over the past academic year, I am eternally grateful to Ateneo for equipping me with lessons both within and beyond the realm of academics that have helped me grow into someone I never imagined, but am happy to have turned into anyway. When my naive and starry-eyed self first entered college, I had such high hopes for what my experience would be and proceeded to map out the next four years of my life in accordance with the vision I had in my head. Having just broken free from the metaphorical chains of my previous school, I found it to be the perfect time to transform into a student who excelled academically, had a long and winding list of extracurricular activities and easily built a vast network of connections thanks to her pleasing and magnetic personality. If I got lucky, maybe I’d have one of those so-called “college blooms” and even get myself an actual boyfriend!

This isn’t something unique to me, I bet a lot of people entered this new stage of their lives with the same mindset so I wasn’t the only one in shock upon realizing that it doesn’t always play out that way in real life. Because of these ridiculous expectations we have implanted in our heads, that basically state that we have to be successful in everything we do and fast, we subconsciously keep ourselves from enjoying the process. In our desire to aim high and aspire for perfection in all that we do, we could end up failing to acknowledge the small yet equally important wins we gain along the way: the friend we make outside of our block despite the sheer discomfort we experience in meeting new people, or the answer we gave in class that impressed our most intimidating professor could appear minuscule when placed beside our goal of being straight-A student who’s active in seven orgs. In addition, we deprive ourselves of the allowance to make mistakes, stray from taking the detours and breaks we need to remain functional human beings and often drive ourselves to the point of fatigue and burnout. And when we are still not flourishing and thriving as planned, we fall prey to toxic comparison: we pit ourselves against others who don’t have the same background or circumstances as we do and question why our progress doesn’t match with theirs.

This is obviously such a toxic way to go about things. Talk about sucking the fun out of what’s supposed to be the four most enjoyable years of our lives. Thankfully, over time, I did some growing up, if you will, and channeled the power of acceptance - both of what I am and what I am not, and the will of God (or whichever supreme being you've placed your faith in) who meticulously planned out what’s ahead of me before I was even old enough to know what school was. I now work to the best of my ability, confident that all I have to do is put in my share of the hard work and see where it takes me, and am also more gentle with myself when I make mistakes.

On a somewhat lighter note, I’ve also been able to form my own opinions about very controversial issues on campus: an example of which would be what I think is the best CR - the answer is definitely Arete. You can’t go wrong with its triple killer combo of aircon, bidet and strong WiFi connection. The only possible downside could be the fact that there are usually a lot of people, so it’s not the best option if you’re planning on being loud and… um, smelly. The secluded and fragrant Leong Hall and ever-reliable New Lib restrooms come in second and third place respectively, while honorable mentions include the 2F Kostka CR (but only from 6:00-7:00am, when no one else is around) and this one specific stall in the Socsci building that's spacious enough that I can bring all my belongings inside with me.

Another point for discussion would be the superior place to eat on school grounds: this might cause an uproar, I’m aware, but I still believe it’s JSEC, despite the stark price difference compared to other cafeterias on campus. I was set on trying something from every stall before the school year ended, but I was too fixated on my top picks: I don’t have any regrets though. In fact, I wish I had more of the beef salpicao with calamares on the side from Casa Paella, the Superbowl from Blendabowls and The Coop fries with garlic aioli served on the side. Besides the fact that the food served is satisfying beyond measure, I enjoy the chit-chats I have with the ates and kuyas manning the stalls, who never fail to ask me how I am and tell me about the cute chinito boys they see on campus that they think I might like.

Although I can’t completely rule out Gonzaga, because of this particular stall with quality liempo and a kuya who always gives me a five peso discount. (I’ve been told he does this with girls he finds cute, but I have yet to confirm that). Also, it’s the only place on campus that I know of that sells fresh fruits by the kilo - perfect for those days when I try to convince myself to go on a diet before I relapse and binge eat at Pancake House.

A lot of people do say that ISO sisig is worth the cross-campus walk it’ll take to get there (e-jeep rides are more recommended! An experience in itself! Especially if you’re seated in the back, where there’s a constant feeling of being sucked in a vacuum! But, I digress) - it might just be a matter of preference, but I think it’s overrated. A destination that deserves more attention is the Cervini Hall cafeteria just by the university dormitories. I’ve only been there a grand total of two times so I don’t exactly have any specific favorites on the menu that I recommend, but I’d definitely still go for the homey ambience.

As for superior study places, Matteo Down has been tried and tested several times: I do prefer getting a place opposite to the entrance though, because it does get distracting having to see people enter and go out the door so often. What was supposed to be a study session often ends up becoming a game to see how many people are wearing a striped shirt today. I usually spend time on the fourth floor of the Rizal Library, and get the couch as often as I can because of the comfort (and charger) it provides.

Of course, I wouldn’t have been able to power through this year without the help of my closest friends: Sevi, Gwen, Raya and Christine. I always had this nagging fear in the back of my head that I wouldn’t be able to find a tight-knit group once I got to college, but thank you for proving me wrong. Thank you for letting me be my true self, for entertaining even my most random thoughts and for accepting all the kalat that comes with being my friend. I sincerely hope that we stay together and have more Gino’s dates in the future along with Chloe!

To Gela, Jill, Shar (and Dom, but we don’t have any pictures together except for the last one HAHAHA) - I didn’t expect at all that I’d be writing about you guys. I was so intimidated by all of you at first, because I felt like we were so different in terms of our upbringing and environment. But after getting to know you, I came to realize that you are seriously some of the most down-to-earth, chill people ever. Thank you for always providing quality chismis, volunteering to find me chinito boys to date and giving me apps to make my IG stories look cuter.

To the rest of X1, we weren’t exactly the most united and we knew that - it’s just that we were probably the most diverse out of all the groups in our batch, and with that comes clashing personalities and differing opinions and interests. But, nevertheless, I am content with the time we managed to spend together, where I was able to get to know all of you!

To the friends that I made outside of my block (and even my course), thank you for laughing at my jokes and telling me that I'm fun to talk to. Hopefully, we get to hang out more and maybe even have common classes in the future hehe

To my Enlit section, we barely spoke to one another during the first semester so I fell under the impression that you were all stoic and no fun to be with. But, I was proven wrong eventually. I wish I was able to talk to more people in LL, but to the classmates I was closest to (Dootie, Cyrah, Czarina, She and Jessa), I will never forget our side comments and mini-rant sessions. I heard we’re having another English subject come sophomore year, and I really hope I end up with you guys again.

All in all, there is no other word that could sum up the experience that was my freshman year in college better than “adventure”. It was every single emotion on the spectrum All At Once, but I wouldn’t trade it for the world - in fact, during the first half of the semester, I admit that I’d entertain thoughts of alternate universes where I’d be an Iska/Lasallista/Tomasino out of sheer curiosity, but now I just can’t imagine myself anywhere else. Anyway, enough with all that drama. I’m going back to school in three weeks to start my summer term, which we fondly (lmao) refer to as intersession. So, there’s technically nothing to miss.

Hope the rest of you enjoy the summer break that I unfortunately will not be able to experience until I graduate from college! Wishing you nothing but love and light, always.

Angel

#life update #angeltriestoblog #life dump #angel crawled her way thru freshman year!!!!#COULD U BELIEVE #angel is now a sophomore #that's disgusting

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