#i've finished the whole thing but it hasn't been proofread yet

[pulisicsgirl]

not going anywhere - christian pulisic

summary: after Christian (and several others) notice how Y/N hasn't been herself for the last few weeks, he finally decides to confront her about how she's feeling

pairing: Christian Pulisic x reader

word count: 2.3k

warnings/tags: established relationship, angst, discussions of mental health and illness, mentions of meds, supportive Christian, hastily proofread

requested: no

notes: Hey there!! This has been sitting in my draft for probably 6 months and I wanted to put something out, so I tried to finish it and make it at least decent for y'all! I promise I'm trying to work on your requests and I have several halfway written, but I've just been struggling in the writing department all summer. Thanks for being patient with me! If this fic is a steaming pile of garbage... pretend you didn't read it

x

It hadn’t gone unnoticed by Christian that you hadn’t been yourself lately.

Your relationship was fairly new, having only been together for a few months, but as attentive as Christian was, he recognized the little things that had shifted in your personality.

He noticed how when you smiled at someone, it never quite reached your eyes—the little wrinkles that usually appeared in the corners were absent. He noticed how when you laughed, as soon as you thought no one was looking, the grin on your face quickly faded, replaced by the absent and distant look that adorned your face so often recently.

He noticed that you would zone out far more often than usual, eyes unfocused as you stared at a distant point. When he caught you in this state, Christian would tangle his fingers with yours or gently place his hand on your thigh, drumming his fingers in an attempt to pull you back from wherever it was that you would drift off to.

He was concerned, to say the very least, but each time he tried to bring it up to you, you dismissed his concern with a wave of your hand, chalking it up to being tired or overworked.

It didn’t take long for others to notice the change, too. As a prominent member of the media department at Chelsea, you had a friendly relationship with many of the players. You were often on the training pitch or on the sidelines at games, snapping photos of the boys as they played. Often, you would mess around with them, cracking jokes and laughing along with them, but not recently.

The joking had been cut to a bare minimum, and you rarely interacted with them at all. You spent just enough time on the training fields to get the content you needed before leaving to work in your office, unseen for the rest of the day. Several of the boys had asked Christian about you. They missed you. But Christian didn’t know what to tell them.

Finally, Christian decided enough was enough. He would have to “corner” you in some way and get you to talk to him. He had wanted to let you have your space and respect your desire to not talk about the matter, but he could see the whole situation physically weighing on you, and he knew that if he continued to let you bottle it up inside, you were going to explode. He resolved that by the end of the day, he’d talk to you.

That night, you had come over so that the two of you could have dinner together. Most of the dinner was spent in silence, you lost in your own thoughts, and Christian trying to work up the nerve to ask what he needed to. He wasn’t sure how to approach this kind of conversation with you—the two of you hadn’t dealt with a situation like this yet in your relationship.

Once your plates were cleared, you stood in his kitchen, washing the dishes, despite Christian’s protest that he could do it later that night. He sat on the counter, wanting to still be in close proximity with you. His heart broke a little when he noticed that you weren’t humming like you always did when you cleaned.

You rinsed off the last dish, placing it on the drying rack with the others, and you were rinsing the leftover suds from the sink when you felt Christian’s arms slide around your waist. He pressed his chest to your back and rested his chin on your shoulder as you turned the sink off, drying your hands on a towel.

“Can we talk?” He spoke softly and placed a kiss onto your shoulder.

You felt your heart sink in your chest. You knew this conversation was coming, but you were hoping to postpone it as long as you possibly could. “Yeah, what’s up?” you tried to speak casually, downplaying the nervous feeling that had settled in your stomach.

“C’mere,” he whispered. You dropped the towel on the counter next to the sink as Christian pulled you to the side where he had been sitting before and turned you around in his arms. He placed his hand on your hips, lifting you to sit on the countertop.

For a moment, the two of you remained in silence. Christian stood between your legs, unsure of what to say first. He rested his hands on your thighs, rubbing the bare skin below your shorts soothingly. Your heart pounded so quickly in your chest that you swore he could hear it as he stood in front of you. You desperately tried to calm yourself, still determined to play things off if you could manage it.

“So… um, you… you haven’t really been yourself lately,” he stumbled over his words and mentally cursed himself for starting so poorly. “I just… I’ve noticed a lot of little things that seem different, and you don’t really seem… happy.” He glanced up at your face, trying to gauge your response. He felt a little guilty for being so direct with the situation, but he didn’t want to keep dancing around the problem.

You drew in a breath, but Christian spoke again before you could. “And please don’t tell me that you’ve been tired, because you keep saying that, but I think it goes beyond that.” The nervousness you felt only intensified, and now you felt slightly nauseous, knowing there was no easy way out of this conversation.

You brought one of your hands up to your mouth, biting at the skin by your nails. Christian recognized the nervous habit of yours and he saw how you used it to try to put space between you and him as a form of defense. He reached up and took your hand in his. With a gentle but firm tug, he pulled your hand back into your lap and looked at your face with earnest concern.

You hesitated a moment longer, looking anywhere but at his face.  Sitting in front of him, your hands held in his, resting on your thighs, you had never felt so vulnerable and exposed. He stroked his thumb over your knuckles, squeezing your fingers in an attempt to pull you out of your thoughts and back to him.

The silence between the two of you was long and overwhelming as your head spun with wild thoughts. Did you continue trying to put a wall between you and tell him nothing was actually wrong? Or did you open up to him, tell him what was really happening, and run the risk of scaring him off?

“Come on, I can practically see you getting lost in there.” He poked your forehead gently with his free hand, laughing softly to try to relieve some of the tension in the air.

You glanced up at Christian’s face, and his gentle, reassuring smile brought tears to your eyes instantly. Looking back down at your lap so he couldn’t see you beginning to cry, you settled on trying your best to explain the thoughts that had been swimming around in your mind for the last couple of weeks.

“I don’t know, Christian, I just… kinda get this way sometimes.” You shrugged your shoulders. It didn’t make sense to most people, but it was the reality. “Nothing really happened. Everything is fine. You didn’t do anything. I just… I feel kinda hollow.”

Christian was relieved to hear that your pain hadn’t been cause by something he had done, having toyed with the idea as he wracked his brain for the last weeks, trying to think of what could have gone wrong to make you feel this way. But he still wasn’t sure he understood exactly what you were saying.

“I used to take meds for it, but I stopped taking them a little while after I graduated high school. They made me feel like I wasn’t really myself, and I didn’t want that anymore.” Your still fidgeted nervously as you opened up to him, but at the same time, the weight on your shoulders felt the tiniest bit lighter as you let Christian bear some of it with you.

Christian remained silent for a moment after you stopped talking, processing the things you had just told him He thought he was beginning to understand what you were saying, though your vague description left several questions swirling in his mind. He was happy, though, that you finally felt comfortable opening up to him, and he figured the finer details could wait until another day.

His silence, however, did nothing to calm your racing heart.

“So, I guess this is the part where you leave?” you whispered before you could even think about it, uneasy with how quiet the room had gotten. Your eyes were glued to your lap, and Christian’s hands froze at your words, where they had been smoothing over your knuckles, trying to soothe you.

“W-what?” he stuttered in surprise, heart sinking at the thought that you might be breaking up with him. When you finally looked up to his face, his eyes were wide, eyebrows knitted together in confusion. He looked so hurt that you almost felt bad for saying it in the first place.

You took your hands from his as you began to pull away from him, picking at the edges of your fingernails, fixing your gaze downward again. “I’ve done this before, Christian,” you mumbled. “I get weird, you ask about it, and then once you find out that I can’t be fixed… you leave.” You sigh, having resigned yourself to the outcome that had played out in your life before. You sat there, feeling defeated, with your shoulders slumped.

A sniffle coming from him causes you to dart your eyes up to his face, and his eyes are misty as he fights back the tears that he can feel welling up in them.

“You really think that?” his voice quivers.

All you can muster is shrugging your shoulders. “That’s what everyone else did. I’m not worth the trouble.”

Your words shatter his heart into a million pieces. The pain of thinking you were ending your relationship vanished quickly, replaced with a new kind of pain at the realization of how you had been treated in your past.

As the first tears slipped down his cheeks, Christian pulled you into a tight hug, holing you as close to his body as he could muster as he buried his face in your neck. You felt the warm tears against your skin as you slowly returned the hug, caught off-guard by his actions.

Christian felt a bit silly. Here he was, crying on your shoulder after the things that you had just revealed to him, experiences that you’d had in your own life. He just couldn’t fathom that anyone could possibly treat you in such a way. You were the kindest, most gentle and caring woman he had ever known, and he truly believed that you deserved the world. Sure, it had been hard to see you in the state you had been in for the last few weeks, but he knew what he was feeling was nothing compared to what you were. And it never would have even occurred to him to think of you as burdensome—to think that he needed to “fix” you in some way.

Christian drew back from the embrace, quickly wiping his eyes while he still held onto your waist with the other. You were caught a bit off-guard by his behavior, never having experienced this reaction before, and you weren’t entirely sure what it meant.

Christian breathed a soft “I’m sorry” before he looked back up at you, cradling your jaw in one of his hands, and you couldn’t help but lean into his comforting touch.

“Y/N, you are absolutely worth everything. It’s not a burden to be with you. You know that right?”

Tears quickly sprung to your own eyes at his words, and you cast your eyes back down to your lap. In an honest answer, you shook your head ‘no’. This was how you had always thought of yourself, and you constantly felt like you needed to be compensating your partner in some way for the things they had to put up with for your sake.

Christian’s other hand came to your cheek, holding your face gently so that you would look him in the eye.

“You’re not a burden Y/N,” he spoke softly, his eyes flicking over your face. His expression held a sort of desperation—aching to show you that he truly believed what he was saying. “You’re not, I promise. And I’ll spend every day for the rest of my life telling you that until you believe it. I’m not going anywhere.”

Your heart fluttered at his words.

‘…every day for the rest of my life…’

He wanted to spend the rest of his life with you?

Marriage wasn’t something the two of you had really talked about yet, because your relationship was so new. But any time you thought about your future, you knew you wanted Christian to be in it. And knowing he felt the same way meant the world.

You felt Christian’s thumb brush across your cheek, wiping away the tear that had fallen. You could only stare at him, wondering to yourself how you had managed to find someone as perfect as him.

“I’ll always be here for you. Anything you need,” he smiled at you, feeling that he was finally getting through to you.

The only response you could muster was a soft, “okay.”

“Yeah?”

You nodded.

The relief Christian felt that he finally had some understanding of why you hadn’t been yourself over the last few weeks was nearly overwhelming. He pulled you toward him, pressing a firm kiss onto your forehead.

“I love you so much, Y/N. Never doubt that.”

tag list: @landoslover @thoseboysinblue @lovelynikol16 @swimmingismywholelife @masonsrem @bracedes @neverinadream @lizzypotter14 @notsoattractivearenti @chilwellspulisic

[beardedmrbean]

Imma throw this at ya though it’s outta nowhere but simply cause me an my sis have been making jokes about it.

When they change twitter to X it’s gonna be awkward when folk tell people to follow them.

When they change twitter to X ya ain’t gonna call it following anymore it’ll be called stalking.

When twitter changes to X ya won’t be tweeting anymore you’ll be crying.

When twitter changes to X you won’t be verified anymore you’ll be dumped.

When twitter changes to X things are gonna get awkward for a few reddit boards.

When twitter changes to X r/LatinoTwitter is gonna become r/LatinoX.

Elon is only changing Twitters name cause there wasn’t any other way to say he owned his X.

Elon changed twitters name to X because his families emerald mine dried up an he’s hoping for buried treasure.

When twitter changes to X we on tumblr can’t joke about checkmarks anymore it’ll just be x’s.

When twitter changes to X it won’t be the bird site anymore it’ll be Scott Pilgrim’s hell.

Disclaimer: My brain somehow filtered out the first line of your ask, because ADHD and or Dyslexia be like that some times,

My issues have been coming at me particularly hard lately, I'm skipping whole words when I'm typing them out, not sure what to do about it other than triple my proofreading efforts.

so I was thinking this was some kind of slam poetry instead of jokes, in retrospect the Scott Pilgrim thing should have given me pause, so I went in with this trying to come up with a serious answer.

Which I'm leaving because I learned some stuff I didn't already know and will assume others might do the same. ______________________________

Asprin is (or was) a trademarked name owned by the Bayer company, Jet Ski, Rollerblade, Jacuzzi, Band-Aid, Xerox, Jello, and just a ton of others are brands that have transcended to the level where their name is just what we call things.

People will still call Twitter Twitter, hasn't changed the domain name yet just the logo, and I doubt anyone but the musk fan club will be calling it "X" even if he does.

As for the family mine, pretty sure he's got nothing to do with that, believe he disavowed that part of his family even before getting going on PayPal.

You know I've never actually looked all that up tho, so I just did.

His father was elected to the Pretoria City Council as a representative of the anti-apartheid Progressive Party and has said that his children shared their father's dislike of apartheid.

That's not something I've heard anyone ever say. Let's see some more about his dad, I've literally never bothered to look any of this up so it's all new information, confirming what I've seen people saying, or totally contradicting what I've seen people saying.

In November 2022, Snopes debunked rumours linking the mine to slavery and apartheid, and linked to an article published in The New Yorker that referenced Musk's part ownership of the mine.

I bet snopes was unhappy about having to debunk the bit about slavery and apartheid there.

Also explains why this is new information to me, since nobody seems to want to give the man a fair shake, he's a tool and a douchebag but it would appear many of the other bits of info are false. ____________

all that aside, folks are still gonna call it twitter, the name is ingrained in our minds, why he's decided to change it is perplexing, at least I haven't heard a reason he may have one I dunno. ___________________________

Going back over the whole thing after reading about them being jokes makes this double funny, and slightly embarrassing on my part, you did forget a few additional bits of info.

It's becoming X (ask how I can remember a mid 90's trip hop group but spell cow wrong)

It's also gonna give it to ya (why isn't there a official, unedited version of the video dammit)

RIP DMX, you went hard from start to finish

[marginal4-translations]

P.S. - Nomura Eru (Romaji Lyrics & Translation Sample Ver.)

Fond of you…

Uketomerarenai KISU wo. Nanimo shiranakatta yo, samishisa.

A rejected kiss. I didn’t know a thing about loneliness.

“Suki de suki de suki na no ni” Boyaketa mirai ni wa, boku ga inai no?

“I love you so, so much, and yet” Am I not a part of your blurry future?

[empressxmachina]

Inquiries on WIPs, lore, and what to do with both

Hi!

I hope y'all are well! I didn't expect to make a journal today, but here I am! I do hope I get some answers because I do have some thoughts and questions.

word wall under the cut

First off, I've done a lot of proofreading and re-outlining lately.

How I keep coming up with ideas, I don't know. Why I can never sit down and write prose except for when I'm meant to be doing something else is even more unknown. But at least I'm thinking, I guess. I like what I'm pondering.  I have done some intensive writing, though.

I made a manip that's been done and in the queue for months, and I liked it so much that I've made a whole novella (novel?) idea for it. If I do it right, then I hope to get about twelve (12) parts from it - they're all now planned - of which I've completed seven. I'm closer to eight (8) than not, so that's good, right?

Since the pic is done and so is its relative part in the story, should I just release it/them, or should I wait until it's all done?

I've even made a Wattpad/book cover for it; that's how much I like what I'm doing.

Regarding Welcome Home, Sasha, specifically, it's been plotted for months, too. But I'm having some issues with writing an expository soliloquy, aka the explanation of what the fuck happened to Earth.

The actual information is cut-and-dry, but I don't know how to best frame it. I find Ki to be an analytical person - sensible for a scientist, I suppose - but with a flourish. Putting his brotherly, almost fatherly love of Sasha on top complicates things further since he wouldn't want to break his heart... and the answer will definitely bruise at the very least.

Luckily though, how he'll react and everything after that is as straightforward as an apocalypse can be. Will I ever write it, though?

I technically have three (3) or four (4) continuations to long fics, but I don't know why I'm not releasing them. I want to, yet I don't? Is this my mediocre perfectionism in action? Is this normal?

Syntrophy has changed in my head, like, four times, regarding the relationship between the two MCs. Their separate stories have maintained but not how they connect to each other.

I wish I was kidding. There's so much I've deleted.

I've been adding excerpts to my manips and making visuals to go with stories. Read more about that in the next section.

Secondly, I've been conceptualizing visuals like mad!

Ideas just keep coming, and they don't stop coming.

The queue is probably at peak fullness, which is cool. I was hoping I wouldn't have to widen time between posting stuff because as much as popularity doesn't affect whether I make something, I wouldn't want y'all to just forget about me. You know?

I know some people don't even have a schedule or set up expectations, so I might just say "Fuck it," and leave submission dates to RNG. It hasn't been a problem, but I don't want pressure from time restraints to become a problem. We'll see.

Like the unnamed, new fic way above, some of my ready works are images from tales not-yet-released. I've done that before numerous times, but one in particular literally happens in what would be the literal next part to post, and I'm not done with writing it, yet, at least to where I'd like it to be.

Should I post the pic anyway, despite context being right behind a corner? I kind of want to, but I've already been putting it off so much...

I just really need to get motivated and focus using Pomodoro or something. Maybe I'd knock everything out if I did.

My most recent completion from literally this morning might just be my favorite in all my years of manip-making.

Meanwhile, the one finished right before it might be the worst thing I've ever made, and its excerpt just makes it worse. I enjoyed it thoroughly, though, which makes me question myself as I'm seeing patterns...

I want to draw/paint again. I've done stuff for IRL projects but not size content.

I need inspiration to just sit down and pen for hours or days.

Would y'all mind me doing sketches again? That'd be quicker.

Lastly, the real reason why I chose to make a journal:

I'm really considering putting expanded, not-yet-seen lore for my stories on my blog site (on WordPress), and I feel like I've pondered this before.

As repeatedly mentioned, I have too many ideas but not even drive to collect them all into something worthwhile. But I'd like to get them out there somehow so others can indulge in my babies as much as I do. Some creators have blogs just for certain stories and their characters, settings, etc. that I adore, and I want to feel that in a way, too. However, most people don't have ten (10) or more stories at once that they equally love. Fuck, I need to edit my blog with more pages for more things I've conjured but isn't there, yet.

I feel that by doing so on my site,

People who do want to know how a plot of a tale will go, because I write as quickly as molasses runs yet have an outline for everything, can know.

It'll be organized as I see fit but my own control (unless WordPress does something drastic).

In addition, the data wouldn't be directly attached to the works on other sites like here, either, in case ideas change or people are averse to spoilers and want to stay away.

Reading all this over, couldn't I put the same data/lore in DA journals, Tumblr posts, etc., too, adding tags or titles to mark what's what? Couldn't I also put the works themselves that are here or even the damn music list on my site, too? Should I?

Am I overthinking this? I think I'm overthinking this.

That's it, I think.

Does any of this make sense? Please let me know your thoughts on anything but mostly the blog stuff if you can.

(I've also put this on DA if you'd prefer to respond there.)

Stay safe, and Happy Equinox! I'm glad I'll see flowers blooming again soon.

~J