#I hadn't even really had problems with it (except with one program but that was sorted easy enough)

[lockea]

I've been seeing a lot of Discourse around outdoor cats that talks past one of the biggest problems addressing community cats/outdoor working cats so I thought I'd chime in with my two cents.

Many arguments I see just... don't think about the cats at all? Or don't consider the logistics of actually addressing the feral cat problem in a humane way. It's always about how outdoor cats shouldn't be outdoors, which is neither realistic nor helpful.

I used to volunteer at an municipal animal shelter in the USA that had a TNR program (Trap, Neuter, Return) and also adopted out community cats to local farms and businesses. Here's my side of the story.

"Your cat doesn't need to be outside" -- Yes, correct. Your domesticated (non-feral) house cat does not need to go outside at all. They can have a fully actualized life safely indoors. When I see this argument, proponents of indoor only cats are correct in most or all their arguments regarding this.

"Outdoor cats are the largest invasive species in the world, and decimate bird populations." -- This is also correct, and part of the reason why you can help by bringing your house cat indoors. Cats are the largest invasive species. Spay and Neuter your cats, bring them inside, and socialize them so they don't become feral.

"TNR doesn't work." -- False. Whether we like it or not, feral cats exist. We have two methods by which we can address the feral cat population -- decimating them (humanely euthanizing the whole colony) or TNR. For a long time, euthanasia was the preferred way to address the feral cat problem. Afterall, if the cats aren't there, doesn't that save the local wildlife population?

Except that we found, studying these colonies, that when a colony is wiped out, the cats of another colony will spread into their territory and continue to have kittens and the population of feral cats is neither controlled nor diminished.

Hence, TNR. What we found performing TNR on cat colonies was that this controlled the population of the colonies, allowing them to stay in their territory, which kept other colonies from spreading (especially colonies we hadn't performed TNR on yet). We at the shelter felt this was the most humane way to control the feral cat population and safely deflate their existence without dealing with the population blooms that euthanasia caused.

"What about kittens?" -- Kittens from these colonies were brought into the shelter, socialized, and fostered out until they could be adopted. Some of these semi-feral kittens needed special homes to be adopted into, but this was the best quality of life for these cats.

"What about cats that get missed during TNR?" -- We would return to the colony several times over a period of several years to perform TNR on the same colony. We mark cats that have been neutered by clipping their ear (this is done humanely, but is the most reliable way to tell if a cat has been neutered so the poor thing doesn't have to have surgery 3-4 times in their life). Also, during the TNR process the cats would be vaccinated to ensure disease did not spread from the colony (i.e. rabies). Still, even getting 60% of the colony TNR'd would dramatically reduce the number of kittens being added to the colony each year. This controlled the population by allowing the territory to naturally deflate in size over time, buying us time to address the larger feral cat problem.

"What if the colony was in an unsafe location?" -- There were two ways we addressed unsafe colony locations -- remember, we know that when the colony is removed, a new colony will move into its place, so we tried not to move the colony unless we really felt the cats or the public was unsafe -- one was to move the whole colony to a new location. Preferably someplace like a warehouse where we have an agreement with the owners of the warehouse. Some of the cats were even relocated to shelter grounds as our community cats. If the colony was small enough we would bring them into our Feral Cats room and adopt them out as community cats.

"What is a community cat?" -- The way the program worked, was that anyone who needed a working cat could apply to the program. These were often rural farmers or businesses with warehouses that needed rodent protection. We trained the farmers and businesses on how to acclimatize the cats to their new home, and as part of the agreement, they had to care for the cats (veterinary care, vaccinations, food and water). This gave businesses and farms an alternative to expensive and environmentally unfriendly rodent control, and also gave these feral cats good places to live out their natural lives.

"Can't you just adopt out feral cats?" -- No. Cats that have not been socialized around humans as kittens, or who have several generations of feral cat in them could not interact with humans in a way that did not cause them undue stress. This was not a humane way to handle feral cats. However, when a cat was brought into the feral cat room, they would be monitored for up to a week. If the cat displayed signs of being semi-social or fully social (hanging out outside of their den, allowing staff to pet them, showing interest in staff in the room), then we would either move the cat into the adoption room or place them in foster to be socialized before adoption. Feral cats who displayed signs of being able to live full and healthy lives with human companions were NOT adopted out as community cats. We also observed this behavior during TNRs and would do the same for those cats too.

"But aren't cats bad hunters?" -- Compared to other species, cats are not the most effective form of rodent control. This is true. However, you have to understand that feral cats exist. There is no "undo" button we can push to stop them from existing. We have to deal with the problem we have right now, which is to safely and humanely decrease the number of feral cats in our communities. And yes, we do that by using cats as rodent control in the community.

"What can I do?" -- Stop saying community cats shouldn't exist. That's not helpful and doesn't solve the problem we have. Bring your cat indoors. Spay and neuter your cats. Adopt from shelters. Volunteer with a TNR team. Support TNR efforts in your community. Recognize that those of us actively dealing with the community/feral problem are trying to do what is in the best interest of our communities and the animals we love. We aren't sitting over here saying these cats should exist -- a feral cat will not have the same quality of life as one that is indoors with a family -- but we have to address the problem in practical terms. We don't have the moral high ground to just do nothing while pontificating solutions that have no basis in actuality.

And yes, it's okay to celebrate community cats. If your local farm has a couple of working cats, that means that farm is helping participate in the safe deflation of the feral cat population. Don't shame a farm or business for using community cats. We're all doing the best we can to solve the problem that we have.

#long post #community cats #working cats #cats #tumblr discourse

[melminli]

Not Toxic For You, But With You

pairing: young coriolanus snow x fem. reader

summery - you and coriolanus never had a healthy relationship, but that didn't mean that you two would ever break up. neither you nor he would ever allow that to happen.

word count: 2.6k

contains: post peacekeeper coryo, toxic behavior, dark themes, suggestive language, arguing, talk about cheating, sexual themes

You were happy for Coriolanus when it was announced that he was part of the mentoring program for the 10th Hunger Games and also just so incredibly proud. If anyone deserved it, it was him, and you were convinced of that. That's why you continued to do your best. To be a supportive girlfriend and helped wherever you could - with encouraging words, with homemade treats or simply with your presence.

Unfortunately, your presence seemed to be the least in demand. You weren't necessarily happy about it either, but now that he had this big responsibility, he also had less free time available. That included hanging out with you, whether you liked it or not.

However, you believed that you could manage it. No problem. You just hoped that, like the last nine Hunger Games, the tributes would drop like flies so that the whole thing could be finished as quickly as possible and you could go on cute dates with your handsome boyfriend again. That was the case in the end, except that meaning that the games were over didn't mean that you could have Coriolanus all to yourself again. On the contrary, it seemed as if you had lost him during the games, and he wasn't even a tribute. At least you thought he wasn't.

When it was announced that Coriolanus' tribute would be the girl from District 12, you were a little disappointed along with him. Simply because he seemed to have got hold of the worst one there was. Your friends were initially worried that your jealousy would cause problems, but you reassured them (as well as your boyfriend) that you certainly wouldn't feel threatened by some covey girl from the lowest district.

At least, that was before Coriolanus gave you a reason to feel that way. He started showing up on TV with her, sneaking glances at her from the side, even going so far as to rig the games so he could save her from a gruesome death. You hoped that he would burn in hell along with her.

"Honey, I know you told me not to open the door for him or let him in if he ever shows up, but..." Your mother began to say in a gentle tone after she opened the door to your room. She knew you were sometimes a bit difficult to handle and you hadn't really told her what had happened between you and that Snow boy, but in her eyes, he always seemed to take good care of you. She complied with your request at first, but it had been several weeks since you had barricaded yourself in your room, and she was starting to get seriously worried about her only daughter. "...but that won't solve your problems either, and I think that - "

You interrupted your mother with a loud, annoyed sigh and straightened up in your bed to meet her gaze at the door. "Stop it, mom. I never want to see his face again. Let him get shot by a rebel on the side of the road for all I care. Hope he bleeds out painfully and everyone watches him breathe his last breath in his miserable state." You spit out one word after the other as if they were poison.

Unexpectedly, the person in question was able to contribute something to the conversation. "You really hurt me deeply with your cruel words, my sweet girl." Coriolanus said as he entered your room with a bouquet of white roses.

Your eyes widened in shock as you climbed out of your bed to stand upright, and before you could realize that he was standing in front of you, you looked angrily at your mother. "I can't believe you did that!" You exclaimed, feeling betrayed. You wanted to add a lot more, but in the brief moment you tried to gather yourself, Coriolanus quietly asked your mother to leave you alone for a while and she followed his request and closed the door behind her.

You looked up again when you heard the noise and had to stop yourself from pulling your hair out of your head. "You've got a lot of nerves showing up here. What's going on? Were the woods in District 12 a bit too tough for the city boy? Did you get tired of fucking the cheap pussy of a lower class girl?"

Coriolanus didn't really respond to what you said and placed the flowers he had brought you on your desk before taking off his red coat and placing it over your chair. You really could have a bad mouth when you were angry. He sometimes seemed to forget that. "There was nothing going on between me and Lucy Gray."

You let out a slightly maniacal laugh and could swear you were finally starting to lose your mind. "Oh yeah? And your cock is bigger than Rufus'." You said in a sarcastic tone before your smile fell from your face. "Don't take me for a fool, and don't you dare say her name in my presence!"

This time your words seemed to have hit a sore spot. You could tell by the slight twitch of his eyebrows that he was irritated. "Who's Rufus?" He asked in a serious tone, trying to remind you not to cross a line.

You had long since stopped worrying about what he wanted. "I think you know who Rufus is." You said challengingly, and with that, Coriolanus lost his patience faster than planned as he came at you with quick steps until your back was against the wall, and there was no way for you to escape. His hand tightened its grip on your jaw and angled your head so that your fiery gaze met his. "I was already expecting you to not be on your best behavior while I was gone, and you know what? I was willing to forgive you for that." He announced, his eyes wide with anger and his own jaw tensed as he tightened his grip on yours. "But fucking some boy behind my back while I thought about you day and night? Sleeping in those fucking barracks with four other soldiers and slaving away like I was just another dirty lower class citizen?"

You laughed when you saw the sadness in his eyes. "Stop whining at me with your shitty sad stories. You deserve so much more than that."

You could feel Corioalnu's breath on your skin as he still looked deep into your eyes, hoping to read somewhere in there that this wasn't the truth. That it was just another lie you told with the intention of hurting his feelings, and it did. "Your mother told me that you never read the letters I sent you." He whispered out, wanting to hear it from you.

He could have that. "I told her she was welcome to burn them."

She's driving me crazy, I'm really about to lose it. Calm down, Coriolanus, you're better than that. She's waiting for you to do that. He said to himself as he took a step away from you so that he wouldn't completely lose his temper and make the situation even worse. He was here to make you believe that everything could go back to the way it was, and it would. "So what? You want to break up?" He asked like it was the most silly thing ever. "Don't be absurd."

"No, of course not." You exclaimed, getting louder and louder. "I want to strangle you with my own hands first and then go to that stupid District bitch and tell her she can never have you, understand?! And then I'm going to beat her until she's green and blue, because you know what?! You're better off dead, than having to see you with someone else that isn't me! You're mine! You hear that?! Mine!" You shouted as you dragged him by his vest and then started beating his chest.

Coriolanus grabbed your arm with one hand to stop you when he felt like it was enough and the other in your hair so he could smash his lips against yours. He couldn't help it. He'd been thinking about it since he'd seen you, but he didn't want to upset you any further by interrupting you in mid-sentence. As much as he craved it, he knew you needed to get things off your chest to make you feel better, and he owed you that.

You had imagined your first kiss with Coriolanus, after all that shit to be just as aggressive as it was right now. With his tongue trying to taste as much of you as it could and with a longing that he didn't really give you or himself time to breathe. His body steered you towards your bed until the backs of your knees gave way, and you fell back onto the soft comforter of your bed. He followed you, taking care to support his weight with his arms. He took short breaths as your kiss was interrupted and rested his forehead against yours while he listened to the ones you let out. "I guess you can understand me then when I tell you that I'm going to kill that Rufus guy. Don't think I've forgotten." He whispered to you as he stroked your hip with his thumb, again growing bitter at the thought.

You smiled. "Of course, and I haven't forgotten how you're still lying to me how there was nothing between you and...her." You spoke up and had to stop yourself from putting your hands around his neck. You decided to play with the short hair on his neck instead. "Tell me the truth and never lie to me again. We never lie to each other, isn't that right, Coryo?"

It took him a moment to answer you. "No, we don't." He finally replied and thought about how best to approach the matter. The feelings between him and Lucy Gray were real. How briefly they may have lasted, and he couldn't deny that. Of course, he could never tell you that either - if he wanted another chance with you, and he did. At the end of the day, Lucy Gray and he were far too different from each other. Only with you could he have the future he craved here at the Capitol. A District girl could never grant him that wish.

"We've shared a few intimate moments together." He finally admitted, feeling your gentle hand on the back of his neck grow harsh. "We may have kissed once or twice, but it could never go beyond that. There was nothing between us because it could never become anything. She could never give me what you do."

That's right. She never could even if she wanted to. You hugged him and gave him another kiss. "You're a little different than you used to be. Your time as a Peacekeeper seems to have changed you. You seem more like a man than a boy." You complimented, showing that this was the end of the matter. You were ready to move on because even if you weren't ready to forgive him for his brief secret romance, you were ready to forget.

A seductive grin stretched across his face. "Oh, you think so?" He asked you as he leaned slightly to his side and nestled his one arm under your head while his other slowly moved further down to reach under the waistband of your pants and play with the fabric of your panties. "Do you like it, my dear?"

You returned his grin. "You know I do."

The reactions from your body would betray you if you gave him any other answer than that. You felt yourself getting wetter with the feel of his fingertips on your skin and your vision blurred by your need to feel him. "Please, touch me, Coryo." You begged him, knowing it was the only way to get him to do what you wanted. At least in the bedroom.

He let out a grunt at your current submissive behavior. She really is a devil when she gets angry, but I'd be lying if I said I didn't like that side of her, too. As long as it doesn't come out too often. "What is that I hear? Looks like you haven't forgotten your manners, huh? Are you gonna be my good girl again?"

He looked at you nodding at him with dreamy eyes. "Always Coryo, always your good girl."

His fingers tugged a little harder on the side of your panties this time. "No. I don't think so, my dear. Because if you were, you wouldn't let some stupid boy fuck my pussy, would you? Do you know what kind of girls do that?" He asked you in a sugar sweet voice that was laced with disappointment and that made you draw your eyebrows together. "Sluts who can't be satisfied with one cock and therefore spread their legs for everyone."

Seems like Coriolanus is still angry about that, but you didn't expect it any other way. After all, that's why you did it, because if he made you the other woman, you'd make him the other man. For a little bit, anyway. "I'm sorry, Coryo. Please. I love you, only you." You tried to apologize to him and move your hips so you could get more of his touch.

"I know you do." He replied, deciding not to tease you too much for once. Maybe some other time, he'd be a little harder on you and punish you appropriately, but right now, he'd much rather hear your sweet voice crying and pleading for him. He did really miss you, after all.

#x reader #x female y/n #hunger games x reader #x you #coriolanus x reader #coriolanus snow x reader #coryo snow #young coriolanus snow #coriolanus #snow #coriolanus snow #young coriolanus snow x reader #tbosas #bosas #smut #coriolanus smut #the hunger games #hunger games #lucy gray baird #dark themes #coryolanus snow #coryo x reader #tom blyth

[emmaelix]

Someone Call Keigo; Hawks x Reader

I DO NOT OWN MHA THE ANIME OR THE MANGA. NONE OF THESE CHARACTERS ARE MINE EXCEPT FOR Y/N. MEMES ARE NOT MINE. 

Full Title: Someone Call Keigo: Hawks X Pregnant Wife! Reader

Y/n: Your Name. Y/L/N: Your Last Name Y/H/C: Your Hair Color. Y/E/C: Your Eye Color. Y/S/C: Your Skin Color

Ships in This One-Shot: Keigo Takami (Hawks) X Reader/ You, Mineta X Trash

Your Quirk: You're basically Mic but with quieter powers. Your quirk is called Megaphone, it allows you to yell at amplified levels. The only problem? You can lose your voice very quickly. 

It wasn't that Y/n resented her husband for being a Pro Hero. She always wanted to be one but had found her quirk more useful in the Disaster Squad, a set of five or six individuals with quirks that could help in a large-scale emergency. She had created it with the help of her husband, Keigo Takami. Aka, Pro Hero Hawks. 

She also didn't resent his trainee, Fumikage Tokoyami, for asking Keigo to help him train. That was kind of his job, after all. And she was glad she was currently in the main dorms of UA. Because she really needed their help. 

Y/n was eight and a half months pregnant. That, in itself, was her problem. Because her water had broken early. This was her first baby, so she had no clue what to expect. Fortunately, Momo Yaoyorozu had gotten a hold of Todoroki's older sister, Fuyumi, who thankfully was off of work today. 

"Just breath," Fuyumi said as Y/n sat distressed in a chair. She hadn't gotten any contractions yet, but what really worried her was that Keigo wasn't picking up his phone. At all. And Y/n knew that Keigo wouldn't break his word to her and go on patrol, would he? 

"Momo, can you call Tokoyami for me? Kei isn't picking up his phone," Momo looked confused for a second before registering that Kei meant Pro Hero Hawks. 

"Okay, he should have his phone on," Momo said, clicking a button on her phone as it began to ring. Soon after, a voicemail message played. Hello, you've reached Fumikage Tokoyami. Please note that as I have not picked up the phone I'm probably on patrol. Please leave your name and number and I will try to get back to you as soon as possible. Click!

"Tokoyami, this is Momo. Call me back when you can," Momo said before hanging up. 

Fuyumi's phone began to buzz. "Oh my gosh, I'm so sorry, but this is my principal. He's probably calling about one of my students, I should-" Fuyumi started before Y/n cut her off. 

"I get it, it's work. Go talk to him, and if you can come back, please do, if you can't I understand."

Fuyumi smiled slightly before picking up her phone and quickly walking out of the room. 

The reason Y/n was even here was because of her work. She was here talking to the students about her program, which Momo and Ochaco had already been helping her with. However, she still didn't know everyone in Class 1-A. 

A small boy with purple balls on his head walked in and immediately stopped when he saw Y/n and some of the girls from 1-A. Is this a teacher's child? She wondered as he walked towards them. 

Momo made a gagging sound at the sight of the boy. "Mineta, get out. We have better things to do them be harassed."

Harassed? "Momo? Who is this?" Y/n asked the teen next to her as Momo glared, slightly uncharacteristically at Mineta. 

"A perv who unfortunately goes to UA." 

"And who might you be, pretty lady?" Mineta asked, walking up to the chair Y/n sat in. 

"Someone you don't want to mess with. My name is Soundclap, but you might also know me from my husband. Pro Hero Hawks," Y/n said, glaring daggers at Mineta. If the girls she worked with didn't like him, she didn't like him either. Mineta yelped and ran away. Momo laughed. 

"Thank you, Sensei Sou-" Before Momo could finish her sentence her phone began to ring. "Oh! It's Tokoyami. Hello?" 

Momo put Tokoyami on speakerphone. "Momo? What's wrong? I got your message. Sensei Hawks and I are on patrol." 

"Well, he's not supposed to be," Y/n said, lowering her voice and clenching her fists. 

"What? Why?" 

"Because I'm in LABOR!" Y/n yelled through the phone, using her quirk at the end of her sentence. 

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

"Because I'm in LABOR!" Whoever was on the phone with Tokoyami, Hawks could hear them yelling through the phone so loudly that Tokoyami had to remove the phone from his ear and put it on speakerphone. 

"AND BESIDES THAT, THE FLYING ASSHOLE WAS SUPPOSED TO HAVE HIS PHONE ON AT ALL TIMES! ESPECIALLY SINCE I'M IN LABOR AT THE UA DORMS WHILE HE'S ON FREAKING PATROL!" Suddenly, Hawks realized who was on the phone. His wife. 

Tokoyami looked from his phone to Hawks with fear in his bird-like eyes. Hawks was frozen in place. "Did she say... labor?" He squeaked. "Y/n's gonna kill me," He muttered to himself as he walked in circles. He picked up one of the unconscious villains in the alleyway. 

"I'm not gonna see my child because my wife's gonna kill me!" He shrieked to the man he held by the collar. Hawks' wings furled and unfurled with his heavy breathing.

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

"Well, I thought you were dead already since you weren't picking up your phone! But now I guess I get to do the honors!" Y/n yelled as tears started to run down her cheeks. If Keigo was here right now he would stroke her cheek and kiss away her tears. But he wasn't here, he was on patrol, which he promised he wouldn't do until the baby was born. He had made that promise almost a month ago. Did he really just forget that quickly?

Momo seemed to notice her distress. "Do you need me to talk to him?" Y/n sighed and nodded, knowing that overstressing would be bad for the baby. 

"Listen, Pro Hero Hawks. Your wife is a crying mess, and she might have a child - your child - at any point. So I don't give a damn if you're on patrol or if you have villains to fight. Give me your coordinates, I'll gladly fill in, but you need to be here with your wife," Momo paused before she picked back up the phone. "And furthermore she told me you broke a promise you made to her? Wasn't that promise you wouldn't go on patrol in the first place?" 

Hawks was stuttering on the other end of the phone. How was it, Y/n wondered, that a sixteen-year-old girl commanded so much authority? "I'm sorry if I overstepped any boundaries, but I felt it needed to be said," Momo said, smiling softly and picking the phone back up as Tokoyami picked up the phone. 

"I think your little chat worked, Momo, Sensei Hawks is having a nervous meltdown, I think. Or breakdown? Anyway, I think he's going to get us back to UA." 

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

I really enjoyed writing this. It won't be a regular theme, but it's still fun.

#hawks x reader #mha #my hero acedamia #mineta's a perv #pregnant reader #hawks x pregnant reader #mentions of labor

[avatar-anna]

hey anna, i had a rough day & would love if you could give me your best angst to match my mood 🥺 screaming, crying, throwing up, ya know the vibe, something that’ll hurt, ur my fave, thank u in advance

i got u b! hope this does what it needs to 🥰🥰 i suggest listening to some olivia rodrigo for this one

throwin it back to the 1d days for this one, so shout out to all my directioners

Today you were surprising Harry at the studio.

You hadn't been able to see him much because he was hard at work making One Direction's third album. The last two had a lot of success, and Harry had expressed how he and the other boys were feeling the pressure to perform well. You knew he liked his space, so you'd given it to him, but you thought after a whole week of not seeing each other, he could benefit from seeing a friendly face.

Harry had been something of a pleasant surprise. You were a uni student studying in London when you bumped into him at a party that you'd been invited to by some of your more well-connected friends. You talked for hours about music, books, dreams, everything really. When you eventually had to leave, he wouldn't let go until you promised to see him again, and you'd been an item ever since.

Things were good. You saw each other when you could and talked on the phone and video chatted when you couldn't. He made sure he made time in his busy schedule for you, never once missing a virtual or in-person date. He gave you gifts, he listened to you rant about professors and exams and friend problems while you did the same, but mostly he just made you happy. Whenever you saw him, you got this giddy feeling that started at the top of your head and spread all the way down to your toes. The two of you were absolutely smitten, anyone with eyes could see it.

Except Isabella.

Isabella was some heiress turned model or something like that and a friend of Harry's. At the beginning of your relationship, you didn't see anything wrong with their friendship, but a few months in and you started to notice things.

Like how she always seemed to be in town whenever you and Harry went on dates, or how she touched Harry a little too much for your liking, or how she claimed she was just "one of the guys" but only hung out with your boyfriend. She went to multiple concerts around the world because she could, claiming, "Harry's my best friend, why wouldn't I?"

That stung. You wanted to go to all of Harry's shows too, but you couldn't hop on a private jet and fly to wherever he was, and even if you could, you were still in school, you didn't have the time. Harry never faulted you for that, so you didn't understand why Isabella felt the need to throw it in your face that you weren't there for him as much as she was.

But you could've put up with all of that. You could've dealt with Isabella and chalked her behavior up to her snobbish upbringing, yet when you brought your concerns up to Harry, he did the oddest thing. He defended her.

"She's not into me like that, we've just been friends a long time, Y/n."

That stung. Not only did he not see what you saw, but he also just brushed off your concerns as if they didn't exist. But you weren't an idiot. Quite the opposite if your enrollment in your uni's nursing program had anything to say about it. Isabella at the very least had feelings for Harry that extended past friendship.

So you started stepping up your game a little. Nothing major, just making sure you didn't wear your scrubs during video chats and wore the things you knew he liked best on you. You did surprise pop-ins at the studio, bringing baked goods for Harry and the other boys. You couldn't swat away Isabella like a gnat, but you could pretend she wasn't there as much as humanly possible. Your next step if things went on—say, showing up on another one of your dates with Harry and he just let her stay—you would finally confront him about it. But you hoped this would be enough.

You stepped through the fancy glass doors of the recording studio, following the familiar path to what had become One Direction's room for this album. There was a slight skip to your step as you walked the halls lined with famous artists signed to the label. You were having an excellent hair day, you were in your favorite pair of jeans, and you managed to get your winged eyeliner to match.

When you opened the door to the recording room, that good feeling was gone in an instant. She was there, leaning in close to him as they shared a pair of headphones and listened to a song together, most likely one he'd recorded recently. So wrapped up in each other, they didn't even notice you come in until the door swung closed.

"You two look busy. I guess I'll come back later," you said, though how you did it was a mystery. There was a lump the size of a golfball stuck in your throat.

Turning on your heel, you left before either of them could say anything. On your way out, you ran into Zayn and Niall, who had smiled upon seeing you, but their expressions immediately morphed into ones of concern when they saw you wiping tears from your eyes. You tried to step past them, but Zayn caught your elbow.

"Is everything alright?" he asked, his voice soft and soothing.

"I'm fine," you said, but even you could tell that you didn't sound very convincing. Before you knew it, tears were falling faster than you could wipe them away and you struggled to catch your breath.

"Hey, it's okay," Zayn said, bringing you in for a hug. You let him, relaxing a little as Niall rubbed your arm affectionately.

It was at that moment that Harry and Isabella decided to come out. He looked concerned, but she looked utterly unbothered, even when she saw you crying.

"What's wrong, love?" Harry asked, but when you stepped out of Zayn's arms, you bypassed your boyfriend and rounded on Isabella.

"You need to back off."

"Back off? Back off of what?" she asked, feigning innocence.

You kept your breathing as steady as you could, trying your best to ignore the fact that you probably looked a mess. "Harry is my boyfriend, and I'm uncomfortable with the way you act around him. It's disrespectful."

"Disrespectful? I'm his best friend. If you have a problem with that, that's not my problem, it's yours."

The hallway was dead silent despite there being five people in it. You didn't know what to say, which seemed to satisfy Isabella. In a desperate attempt for backup, you turned to the one person who should've been on your side without any questions asked. "Harry?"

You knew he hated confrontation, but you needed him. You always defended him when the boys teased him a little too much, you were always there for him when he was frustrated with a bad day of writing. You were always on his side, now you needed him on yours.

"I, um," he struggled with finding something to say. You felt Zayn and Niall watching this whole exchange like you were some teen drama, but you tried not to pay attention to them.

"This is ridiculous, Harry. Your girlfriend's jealous and insecure. We shouldn't have to change our friendship for her."

Harry took his time responding again, and each second that passed filled you more and more with dread. Finally, he said, "I—I've told you that nothing's going on with her, Y/n. I need you to trust me."

It would've hurt less if you'd been slapped. If you couldn't make him see it now, you never would. Bracing yourself for something you never thought you had to do, you loosed a breath and looked Isabella in the eye.

"Right. Well, you don't have to worry about stepping on any toes or crossing any lines, not that you ever did. He's all yours. I'm done."

You left without another word, feeling like your heart was trying to make a hasty escape through your throat. As you walked away, you heard Isabella say, "Did you hear the way she talked about him? He's not a piece of meat."

"Oh shut up, Isabella." That was Niall. His comment made a smile flicker on your lips, but it only reminded you of the fact that it was still someone else defending you and not the person it should've been.

Before you made it to the elevators, you heard soft footfalls behind you. Harry was there, lightly gripping your elbow and spinning you around. "Really, that's it? You break up with me just like that?"

"You couldn't even stick up for me in front of her, Harry! If you're not on my side, then what's the point?"

"There are no sides, Y/n! We're just friends! Why don't you believe me when I've already told you countless times?"

"She doesn't want to be just your friend! How many dates has she crashed? How many times have you cancelled or left early because she needed you? She was practically on top of you in the studio just now! I've let it all slide, but I'm not gonna do it anymore, Harry. She may not see it that way, and you might not either, but it is disrespectful. She doesn't respect me, and she certainly doesn't respect our relationship.

"I've kept my mouth shut, I've pretended like what she was doing wasn't driving a wedge between us, but all that did was bring us to this point. There's not a wedge between us, Harry. We'd have to be on the same plane of existence for that."

You hated how much your words seemed to hurt Harry. At least it meant that he really did care for you, but it wasn't enough.

"I don't know what you want me to do," he said quietly.

"Stop hanging out with her, admit that how she acts around you isn't normal 'best friend' behavior. Do anything but just stand there and look at me like I'm crazy."

When he still couldn't at least admit that Isabella was out of line, that was all you needed. Looking back on that moment, you remembered not feeling sad that your relationship had come crashing down in a matter of minutes, you only felt angered by his choice, and maybe a little resigned, like some part of you knew it was coming.

Nodding, you said, "Right. Guess that answers that then. When she finally does make her move, I hope someone is there to say 'I told you so.' Goodbye, Harry."

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

Two weeks later and you were still devastated. Everything still felt so fresh, and it took just about everything in you to get up in the morning and go to school.

You hoped that Harry was feeling similar. Part of you thought that he would call or come visit you, but he hadn't and you were starting to lose faith in that particular fantasy.

At the very least, you hoped you inspired a song on One Direction's upcoming album.

Speaking of, as you were getting ready for school one morning, you got a phone call from Zayn.

"Hey, what's up?"

"Hi. How've you been?"

"Alright considering, I suppose. I've just enough strength to get me through classes, but that's about it. Is that pathetic?"

You were partially joking, but mostly not. When Zayn didn't answer right away, though, you began to worry. "Zayn? What is it?"

"I just wanted to give you a heads up. It'll probably be all over the Internet, but I thought you deserved to hear it from a friend."

Your stomach dropped. You knew it was coming, but you wanted to believe that Harry really did love you. "At least he didn't cheat, right?"

"Y/n—"

"It's fine, Zayn, really. I, um, I should be getting to school. I don't want to miss my bus."

You didn't take the bus, and you definitely weren't going to school, but you needed to get off the phone as quickly as possible.

"Do you need anything? The boys and I are all planning to egg his place while he records some solos," he said. An attempt to make you smile. It would've worked if you didn't just lose the ability to feel anything.

"No, I don't need anything, but thank you. For asking and for calling." It was certainly more than Harry did.

"I have to get going, but call any of us if you need anything. You may have broken up with him, but we're still friends, yeah? Don't be a stranger."

You hung up soon after, and then you were left to stew in your misery. Sobs wracked your body as you blindly made your way back to your room. Your heart physically ached, despite having braced yourself for this possibility even before you'd broken up with him

The hardest part was accepting the fact that you and Harry were truly finished because when you were good, you were really good. He loved you, you believed that, but somewhere down the line, he found it in him to like someone else. You could only hope that one day you'd be able to move on, because right now you felt like your apartment was crushing your chest.

"You didn't cheat, but you're still a traitor," you mumbled to yourself as you got into bed. Now that was a song lyric. Shutting your eyes, you hoped that the face you were still in love with despite everything didn't haunt you in your dreams the way he was about to haunt you in real life.

#harry styles #harry styles blurb #harry styles x reader #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles imagine #harry styles oneshot #harry styles x you #harry styles angst #one direction

[farolero-posting]

no but, like, Prototype is SO interesting when you think a little harder about him and I just want you to see my vision for a sec because im feeling normal. hiding this under a cut though.

I think the main line i wanna say is that yes we can easily see why Silver or The World Machine see themselves as flawed machines but I don't think that notion is too out of reach for him yknow? Like. He was built to "greet the messiah of the old world", which ended up not happening as it was supposed to. Worst part of it is that considering the lore Cedric provides, Proto was the one to figure out this quest for a savior was pointless. It's like predicting that his very existence is futile, and then just having to live with that?? Somehow?? Not only this, but the implied cultural shift that this event caused had to be considerable. People left their research, they changed their outlook in life, this action ended up changing the trajectory that people had. Hell, maybe some people took their own lives. I mean, that note in the Barrens had to be inspired by something.

Could you Fucking Imagine realizing that your actions had THIS effect? That you effectively have caused harm by sharing this knowledge, but this was either out of your scope, or it was something you were programmed to do from the start? That this is all out of your choice? What the fuck even. "OP it's not that deep" I know but it could be. Hello. I mean listen. if the Author hadn't known everything was going to end in the next few years, do you think he would've tried to create TWM?

And then, I guess. the simulation is created and as problems arise, the Author's children are tasked with a backup plan that could help them be tamed. There is no guarantee that whoever ends up with the simulation will attempt it, but they need to believe it's possible. And they all wait, and make sacrifices. Prototype not only hides in a corner that's harder to access but we find him without part of his memories, in such a way that he can't even introduce himself properly. The data is close to him, and yet body and mind and identity are kind of divisible. And there's no guarantee that his wait will amount to anything. Maybe he wouldn't even realize that, in that state though, I don't fucking know. Is it better to not know? Either way this sounds like quite the sacrifice to make, and I want that to sink in.

And sure, then the savior does show up, except the circumstances are different. This world is possible to save, this world is simpler, it's also just a simulation, and all of this is stuff he knows and has accepted. He doesn't even fulfill his purpose as he should because there's another robot taking that spot. And what he ends up doing, can be once again summarized as delivering information about things that he NEEDED to share for a greater good, and that causing a negative reaction of a magnitude that accelerates the corruption of the world, and his one chance to actually guide the savior ends up leaving them more confused, upset and doubtful that they can do anything. He tries to predict what could happen next, or at least, states he does and he is always too late. Too late to tell them of the corruption, too late to tell them that the mines will collapse, too late to react to make sure Silver and himself make it out alive. And yeah this event does make Solstice a far riskier route than intended. Did the Author and co. consider this possibility? Likely, did they THINK it would actually go that way? Probably fucking not.

It's fine, in the end. Robots can be repaired, and things did turn out okay, but the cost was still big, and no replacement can really make the consequences disappear. But time goes on, anyways. What else could you expect? What else can you do? Can you say you failed if it was out of your control? If it was never meant to be anyways? What did you make of the chance you did get?

And, in other topics, from where DO you draw your worth? What defines you? Where is "you"?

idk.

#im so sorry for the people who have notifications on for this blog. whoops. tell me to go sleep #do i even wanna maintag this... no.... #can u tell it's late at night for me. unspeakably late #i know im preaching to the choir though like i dont think im saying anything unpopular lol #anyways top 3 characters i would go out for drinks if they could drink #so i could ask them WHAT THE FUCK. is up with them #prototype #analysis #proto had one fucking job and uhm. idk well. how well do u think he did it #suicide mention #kiiind of vaguely but just to be safe

[floating-in-the-blue]

What if you wrote something based on this? 👀

I have no idea how grindr works save for a quick wikipedia search so ignore any inaccuracies!

-

"Oh right," Willie murmured as his phone displayed that he had a new message on grindr. "I wanted to uninstall that thing."

He'd gotten the app on a whim a few months ago, had had a few good times because of it but ultimately, it just wasn't his thing and the constant messages were a little annoying. LA just had too many horny gay people wanting to hook up.

Well, he could at least check this latest guy's message before deleting the app. Only seemed polite.

Except the message wasn't quite what he had expected.

Willie laughed as he read through the texts and he had to admit that the guy's profile picture looked cute. He hadn't gone for any of the obvious choices (which all excluded shirts) though if Willie guessed right and it showed the guy sitting behind a set of drums, it was no less sexy in Willie's opinion. And maybe the way the guy held that microphone was just a little suggestive.

It was almost a shame the guy wasn't looking to fuck right now but, granted, a flooded bathroom would probably put a damper on anyone's mood.

>Yeah, why not

>Gimme a sec and I'll come over

Willie didn't have anything else planned and getting out of the apartment was always a good idea. Plus microphone guy would probably appreciate being able to do damage control while waiting for the screwdriver delivery.

Judging from the flurry of relieved and grateful responses that followed, Willie was right about that.

---

A few minutes later, Willie arrived at the given address and discovered that the guy was even cuter in person, even dishevelled and 80% drenched. Or maybe because of that. He also blushed adorably as he opened his apartment door for Willie who held his screwdriver aloft with a wide grin.

"One flathead screwdriver, as requested."

"Oh thank God. You're a lifesaver!"

Willie shrugged and kept grinning. "No problem, man. Happy to help."

Cute wet guy waved him inside and closed the door behind him with a sigh, pushed the hair out of his face and then accepted the screwdriver Willie offered to him. Willie had to admit that it looked good in the guy's hand, mainly because the hand itself was just very nice.

Willie cleared his throat and followed nice hand guy towards the bathroom, waving away a couple more heartfelt 'thanks' on the way. He whistled as he stopped right in front of the little dam erected on the threshold to the bathroom.

"I can see why you were desperate enough to message some random guy on grindr for a screwdriver."

"Uh, yeah." Cute guy chuckled awkwardly and stepped over the assorted towels and something Willie supposed was a bed sheet before setting to work.

It didn't take long to stop the bathroom from further floods now Willie's handy screwdriver was on the job and afterwards, Willie offered to help with the clean up.

"I'm Willie by the way," he said as he tried to wring out drenched rolls of toilet paper over the newly repaired sink.

"Oh, yeah, sorry, I'm Alex?" Alex replied, smiling up from where he crouched in front of his washing machine, loading it with wet towels and a bed sheet.

"Nice to meet you, Alex." Willie stretched out his hand and Alex, after hastily shoving the last towel into the washing machine and closing the door, shook it with a smile.

"Likewise. Thanks for saving my ass."

"Well ...," Willie's gaze lingered on the still crouching Alex, who was now busy programming the washing machine, "it looks like an ass worth saving."

He was rewarded by another adorable blush as Alex looked up in surprise but then a grin stretched over his features as he got up and Willie suddenly realised that Alex was just that little bit taller than him and found he really liked that.

"Hmm ... I still need to thank you properly," Alex murmured, raking his eyes over Willie, whose heart sped up. "And I do need to get out of these wet clothes anyway ..."

Alex tilted his head a little as he looked at Willie, a question clear in his eyes.

Willie swallowed and then cleared his throat. "Well, you already had your hands on one of my tools today ..."

He grinned widely up at Alex, who managed to keep his composure for about three seconds before bursting into laughter.

"Oh my god, that was terrible."

Willie giggled. "Well how could I resist? It was right there!" He stepped closer and put his hands on Alex's hips. "Just like you are," he continued, brows wagging and with his voice full of suggestions as he began to push up Alex's wet shirt.

Now it was Alex's turn to swallow hard as he stared down at Willie. "What a lucky coincidence," he whispered with a faint smile, fingers grazing over Willie's cheek before pulling him in for a kiss.

--

Willie deleted grindr the next day. But he never regretted getting it because he got a boyfriend out of it after all. A boyfriend with very nice, very talented hands.

#yeo writes #my writing #best gay ghosts #willex #phantomfloat

[bosskie]

Hi again, I'm glad my words helped you feel better! Oh, Molluck looks so sublime here... Giving and receiving love always makes someone beautiful. The little scars on the Slig's face are also a nice touch! I'd been wondering how he and Molluck could kiss, but this is quite an effective way. This shows if you really want to reach something, you can: if a Slig's mouth can reach a Glukkon's for a kiss, then it's also possible for people with our disorders to have some serenity in their lives!

Hi! I gotta say that, thanks to my previous experiences, I have been actually kinda skeptical about what you have said but while the time has gone by, I have started to appreciate your words even more and getting myself used to the idea that people (other than my family) do care about me. Like, I was quite sure about that you will still shortly leave me too but here you are and I really appreciate it! Like I have said, you seem to care about me more than any of my Internet or IRL acquaintances / friends I have had and I really mean it. Though, I still can't understand why you care about me (or anyone would) but I appreciate it nonetheless!

Heh, thank you! I really have no idea what to do with this version since I drew him fully actually but here it is, Molluck is ready for a kiss:

You have such a beautiful way to think! Something inside of me just always wanna make me as an exception when someone says something like that...

I wanted to add those scars to the Slig since it would really be a nice addition if he had some scars from the strike too, making their bonding more visible too, in my opinion. Glad to hear if ya like it!

Yeah, it's not easy to make them kiss thanks to their size difference but it's not impossible.

That reminds me of that I have skills to become whatever I want but my mental health issues have made think sometimes that maybe I should retire already because I can’t really do anything in my opinion... I have lots of ideas and I actually wanna get multiple degrees from university since I’m way too interested in stuff and I need them to do what I want. Like, I really wanna be an engineer too and build robots and such but now I focus on programming. I have been half-joking that I’m gonna do a VR Molluck game for me one day... Of course, I can share it too but it’s still like a personal thing since it would be about hanging out with / dating Molluck... Yeah, I love programming because you can basically create anything... Um, I also should learn to do proper 3D models since I wanna do some stuff with them... It would be interesting to do a non-VR 3D Molluck game too. But I'm gonna speak more about my Molluck game stuff when I publish some new footage about my retro-like 2D Molluck game here. I have continued it a bit recently but I wanna do some stuff before I share it. It's still quite at the beginning and empty but it's something. It's interesting that there isn't really any finished Oddworld fan games... Will I be the one who releases the first one...

I feel like my biggest problem is that I don't trust on my skills and that I'm worth of something. Like, I have also accidentally created a mathematical formula in high school and teacher checked it and approved it... I just did understand it in my way... I also learn languages easily. When I studied one language some years ago, the teacher asked if I had studied it before and I hadn't... They asked it because I could pronounce it so good. Yeah, being multi-talented and highly intelligent is said to cause more problems than benefits and I get it... Things just tend to seem so easy that you don't really learn to appreciate your skills. Like, I have been also called a genius and I struggle with seeing how... I just do stuff in my mind and I haven't needed to do much to reach the dreams I have reached so far. But the hardest thing so far has been trying to learn to love myself and enjoy life but I keep trying even after over a decade of mental struggle.

I'm trying my best to find a way to live for myself since I'm basically still alive thanks to my family. Molluck has helped me to feel better about myself even though I still struggle with my relationship with him since I feel like I can't really make anyone happy and it's better that I'm alone... That's why I actually feel better about drawing him with his Slig than with myself and why I couldn't really stand that drawing about Molluck 'n' my Gluksona even I tried, so I took it off. I just felt too bad for Molluck but I also couldn't stand myself, even as a Gluk... I gotta get this feeling away that I will just ruin everything and nobody really wants to be with me. So much people have left me, even they seemed to wanna get to know me, even said it, that it has left me such a mental scar that I have hard time trusting that some people do genuinely care about me and that I'm worth of something. And this all has started to happen when I was a child, so it disturbed the developement of my identity quite badly... Yeah, it's harder when you are different.

I'm full of ideas but my mind is my worst enemy. Like, I would love to craft all kinds of stuff but my mind just keeps telling me how bad I am and I would just waste resources and materials... I have like tons of traditional art supplies but I haven't really used them since I feel like that... Man, I should really start using them since I have some really nice stuff that I have craved to have but been to afraid of using them... Gotta try to get myself to mess with them.

Man, I have so much stuff to say... I guess this is also a symptom of my loneliness since I don't really have anyone to talk to about these.

I would love to say something more but I can't really think of anything that wouldn't ruin the beautiful ending of your message...

~ Much love to you!

#art like a bosskie

[perpetual-fool]

-

Guess I should share this, for anyone following along.

I'm not motivated enough to check if I've mentioned this already, but something happened. Dealing with Cat, I realized I'm being left completely confused as to what's going on. I realized I am very much not okay with that, and was going to demand that she provide examples for anything explained, and that she confirm anything I've explained by rephrasing what was said. No more guessing, no more hoping I can trust the other when they insist they've understood. Fucking explain yourself or we're not doing this.

And I expected this to implode immediately. As it has in the past, more or less. People most often simply refused, the ones that pretended to play along would get upset and argue when I told them they hadn't understood.

But it didn't. It worked as well as I could have hoped. And this is something new. It's quite jarring to hear an idea reinterpreted in a way I wouldn't have thought of. Nothing profound or anything, just sort of like they're going at sideways relative to where I'm standing. This feels like it could be the connection that I've always needed. That's also jarring in itself, and I have mixed feelings about it. Because, I wanted to be a part of that world. And if this is how genuine connection actually works, that world doesn't exist. The thing were people sort of vaguely reference what they're thinking or how they're feeling and expect to be understood doesn't work, and never did. I'm genuinely not missing anything because it was never there to miss. (And I did ask, all the way back. 'Talking about this in person', ya, know?) And where that overlaps with doing, I'm not sure what to make of it. Like, there's the thing about music, where no one would ever explain anything because they have no genuine concept of it. And consequently there's the conversations we could never have, say about how to harmonize, how the chord overpowers the melody so if we simply stay a 'third' apart it completely changes the meaning, etc. And so working together was never going to happen. But when they act on their own, is there really no one in there?

Some questions remain unanswered. Predominantly there are two. Why the dishonesty? and why the stupidity? There are times when people are being blatantly crooked with me, and there are times when they seem to be genuine except what they're saying is not plausible. And I don't know how to approach that yet. It's a compound problem. Like, it's not just "why did they lie when I asked this question?" it's then whatever the answer is, why that? and maybe a few times. I don't have a starting point to ask at the moment. I have until next month to figure something out.

Also, I started writing out some vocabulary for effective communication. It'll be a long time until it's ready, and it's too complex to just jump into. But it doesn't feel like a natural language. It feels like I'm writing out 'man' pages for a programming language. Maybe this is how things always should have been.

And that's.. a thing. Even if this doesn't work, this is how it works.

- Tangentially, I've been looking at music lately. Was studying harmony a bit, as mentioned. And the guitar is actually useful for that, which is what I got it for. I'm still unclear how to do harmony, but I guess it's not that complicated and more so a matter of doing the work. The tricky part is just that the relationship between notes in a chord is more significant than the notes' relationship to the key. So if I simply add the note that's going to resonate really well it completely changes the meaning. And I've been practicing singing a bit. It's still surprising how physically demanding it is.

Though about writing music: the bottleneck is having something to share, I realized. I've had experiences I feel some way about, but others have kept me perpetually confused. I don't know what happened, how I should feel about it, or what to call the feelings am I having. Not much of a story there. Still feeling that my own ideas and feelings are wrong and bad certainly doesn't help.

[fdragon-art]

Day 215 - Touch-starved

Ahh, the good ol’ “Wacom tablet just lost its pen sensitivity”~

#miscellaneous #venty #year 2 #art #I'd /just/ figured out how to get my PC to update despite its protests and now I've gotta sort this out ^^'' #I hadn't even really had problems with it (except with one program but that was sorted easy enough) #I'll figure it out but nnngh~ ><''

[sery-chan-13]

[ Heathers ]

Niragi Suguru × Reader

It's mainly Niragi, but there's a lot going on, so for some background: You are a theater kid. But, you have to be intimidating in the games.

This is funny? But also kind of cringe😆

You hummed, walking towards your favorite room at the Beach after your patrol. It was late at night, and most people were sleeping, partying, or militants on patrol. No one else except Hatter really went there, so you assumed tonight would be no different.

You opened the side door softly, entering the room, and flicking on the lights. It echoed in the room, and you smiled. It was the last bit of normalcy left in your life.

A few days ago, Hatter had taken you here, and shown you the theater inside the hotel. It reminded you of when you were in your theater program back in high school, so you found yourself constantly going back.

"I wonder what I should do this time? Be More Chill? Hamilton? Dear Eva- Heathers!" You thought outloud, reading through sheet music. You smiled, remembering the musical, and laughed at the thought of when you guys did it back in high school. You had played Heather Duke, and honestly enjoyed it. Although, the girl who played Veronica was incredibly rude, and actually got sick the day before the performance. Karma, the greatest and baddest bitch of all.

You hummed to yourself, cleaning up the backstage area. It hadn't been in usage, so it was dusty, and it needed some cleaning. You picked up a broom, and began to sweep.

Niragi hadn't been planning on doing anything after his patrols. He thought he would just head back to his room. But something was urging him to head to the place he found. It was a theater area at the back of the Beach. It seemed no one else had found it, so he was pretty ecstatic about it. He didn't do theater, but he knew a few kids who did. They found it fun. All he liked doing was games. Although a couple kids had invited him to try it out once, as they caught him singing. Apparently, they thought he sounded good. Embarrassed, and not looking for anymore reasons for anyone to target him, he refused. The theater was quiet, far away from everyone. Soundproof. Although, he will never reveal how he found that out. Plus, the way he found out was gone now, so he didn't have to worry about anything.

When he walked in, he noticed the lights were on. 'I must've left the lights on last time,' he thought as he sat behind the second curtain that hid the backstage passage. He folded his knees up to his chest, kind of hard because of his long legs, but that was a him problem. He'd figure it out later.

He closed his eyes, leaning his head back on the wall. Although he never did theater, he did like a couple musicals. He knew about 3 all the way through. Other than that, if he had been a theater kid, he'd be a disappointing one. One musical he did like, however, was Heathers. The soundtrack was pretty nice, and he thought JD and Veronica's relationship was interesting. No one would hear if he just sang quietly. Even if he was singing loudly, the room was sound proof and no one knew about it, so what does it matter?

He questioned himself too much. Every thought, every move he made, he had to second guess it. But he was so tired, he just quietly sang a song to himself.

"I am damaged... far too damaged...

But you’re not beyond repair. Stick around here, make things better... ‘Cause you beat me fair and square. Please stand back now,"

"Little further. Don’t know what this thing will do. Hope you’ll miss me... Wish you’d kiss me... Then you’d know I worship you... I’ll trade my life for yours,"

"Oh my God -" you sang. He jumped, grabbing his gun. "It's me, (Y/N). Can I sit besides you? Can you keep singing? Please?" You asked. He was so shocked, all he did was nod. "Go on. Please," you said.

"And once I disappear,"

"Wait, hold on-"

"Clean up the mess down here,"

"Not this way!"

"Our love is God. Our love is God.Our love is God. Our love is God..."

"Say hi to God..."

"You're a theater kid?!" You shouted, shaking his shoulders. "No! No, I'm not!" He shouted, pushing you away. You crawled over to him. "How do you know the song?" You asked. "I just know it... gods your annoying," he muttered, crawling backwards and away from you. You grabbed his arm, forcing him to stop. "I- I'm sorry... I shouldn't have scared you... Um... Niragi..." you apologized, still holding his hand. "What?" He spat. "Can you... can you sing more songs with me? Please?" You begged. "No way," he said, trying to pull away. "Please? I've never met someone else at the beach who's even shown interest in them. Pleaseee?" You repeated. He thought for a second. You weren't someone like Chishiya, and you were a milital. Someone he's had his eyes on for a while, actually. You were always so intimidating, but here you were excited over him knowing a song from a musical.

"No."

"Please?"

"No."

"Pleaseee?"

"Goddammit woman, I said no. You are a stubborn ass bitch."

"Pwease? Pweaseeee!"

"No!"

"Dead Girl Walking. Full scene, from the top, every action. After that, if you need help I'll give it to you."

...

....

.....

"Deal."

You laughed, seeing as that's all he needed to be convinced. "So... all I have to do to get you to do something... is offer my body?" You questioned. "Only for you would I say yes...

"Awww, so you do like me~ Kuina was right!" You cooed, grabbing his hands.

He blushed, and you smiled. "Maybe one day.... you could be the JD to my Veronica, yeah?"

#alice in borderland #niragi #×reader #fluff #this is cute #but short #for now im proud of myself #:)

[kontextmaschine]

kontext's back

Been feeling up and down and unsteady in a foundational way lately but distinct from either the post-April 2020 crazy or classic bipolar stuff

But I keep connecting it to trends and I realized it's my reverse pathetic fallacy returning, after like 2 years of putting in the clutch and peacing out, a little rough like jumping off a running treadmill and then jumping back on while it's still going

For one it makes me realize that my connection to like, "American culture" and my physical neighborhood are of a kind, maybe that's not that uncommon. And that maybe I should reevaluate NIMBY politics and white "there goes the neighborhood" post-segregation experiences in that light

For two, I may have been saying we'd already passed the tipping point, but I went clutch-in before the election. In my own city mobs roamed the streets and the mayor's hamhanded #Resistance-fanning not only made it worse it left him politically constrained amidst a runoff with this smug professional glib shitlib problem glasses tweeter I had had my worried eye on for years

In the big important cities, a decade of troubling rumbles come to a head in something of a selective-college NCOs' coup with the university students on-side

Like, you remember fluff at the New York Times over running a Tom Cotton editorial laying down the foundation that if unruly mobs take the streets of major cities and demand the suspension of the democratically legitimate force of law the government can suppress them with direct force, that apparently came from pressure from the technical staff

And like, "production staff of major newspaper use labor power to try to control editorial line" is well precedented! A lot of Warsaw Pact regimes bootstrapped that way, the LA Times had a guns-and-bombs war with its printing staff over this once. For it to happen at America's major newspaper in support of challenges to government control of the streets was really a big deal!

The most irritating SJW I knew personally was like, a Drupal programmer who played pinball. And Drupal was apparently something for running web pages, except more than utility at some function "Drupal programming" seemed to be defined as a culture, a kind of tediously shitlib one, maybe in part because their employers seemed to regularly pay to fly them out to these conferences that weren't even about programming, just shitlib stuff, and that was a foundation of the culture

And I heard at one point they all scorned and ran some guy off (from like, his career) for being a Gorean, and were rumbling about how they could use their ideological solidarity and upstream role in web hosting to control content using their webdev tools

And I mean Goreans lol, but if you weren't paying attention in the 90s "we must use our technical knowledge of internet infrastructure to constrain human communication to facile mainstream morality while rigorously patrolling the subculture to keep out dorky SFF fetishes" was… pretty much the opposite of the promise of tech culture, to the point this was really kinda worrying.

And now I wake up and look out of my burrow again in November 2021 and that's in the rearview mirror, on the national and civic levels alike, politics and media, the spirit is "2011 as if we hadn't lost the spirit of 1995 (which was an embrace of 1969 but rejection of 1978)".

Biden's doing "What If Clinton But Also Maybe Turn Presidentialism Down A Notch And Let The Senate Be A Steering Force Of The Republic In Its Own Right", there's a tangible desire to go back to the 90s and a dawning realization that yes, that involves punching hippies, at least enough that you can ignore the rest.

For structural vulnerabilities well – not much has changed in public. It doesn't usually, that's what happens when capital wakes up, it works behind the scenes. I will say that from history this no longer looks like you'd expect from a narrative that ends with sleepwalking into disaster or ineffectually flailing, it looks like one you expect is going to have a crisis point in a few years that the insurgents are going to be completely unprepared for capital to be prepared for and fall on their faces after having exhausted themselves for maximum visibility

There's that one CEO who was like "yeah, this company is for achieving our business purpose, if you want to leverage it for some shitlib stuff please find another" and a chunk of the staff left and the Medium huffers huffed but the company went on to sparkle at the metrics VCs love, adding to the question of why companies staff hufferchum in the first place

Substack is hardened two ways, one thing is they have a solid enough understanding with their VC that nothing Anil fucking Dash says could ever matter; the second is like everyone I mostly read free ones online but being e-mailed to subscribers means writing is shielded against any technical or political interference with webhosting, that archived copies survive any attack on or rejection from the platform and that it can be forwarded and shared with contacts discreetly for samizdat or paywall-gatecrashing purposes

It's morning in America. And they're playing The Tick on FOX. Spoon!

#2021 #amhist #same as it ever was

[freddieslater]

Twelve Days of Rarepairs: Scanny | Scott McCall x Danny Mahealani (Teen Wolf)

Requested by @childofsquidward

The collie laying on the table is patient and docile as Scott finishes slotting the cone into place around her neck. She just stares up at him with big eyes, nudging against his hand with her nose.

Laughing, Scott rubs her head. Her tail gives a little wiggle in response.

"You know, you're the only one I've seen who isn't bothered by this thing," he tells her, scratching behind her ear. 

She just gives a playful yip in response. 

The bell rings over the front door, alerting Scott to someone entering the animal clinic. Somewhat pointless considering he heard the heartbeat first. But Lola's ears immediately perk up, and her tail bangs against the table.

Scott grins at Danny when he appears in the doorway, holding two festive coffee cups.

"You've been missed," he says.

Lola's already standing on the table, barking fondly at Danny. He laughs, and moves towards her, fuelling her excitement.

"By which one of you?" Danny jokes.

Scott's eyes widen. He opens his mouth, but he falters, and Danny's already focused on Lola again anyway. Heat rushes to his face. He quickly tries to regain some composure. 

"Hey, girl! Oh, you look so good!" Danny coos. "Did Dr. McCall take good care of you?"

Scott tries to bite back a smile and fails. He's getting used to hearing his friends call him Dr. McCall, more as a joke, but something about the way Danny says it gives him this fluttering in his chest.

So, when he first saw him at the start of December, it was a surprise. He'd practically disappeared off the face of the earth for two years, and then suddenly he was back in town for the holidays, to see his family and friends. 

But not only that, Scott hadn't quite realized just how attractive Danny is. Was he always that good-looking while they were at school together? Of course he was, everyone knew it. But Scott hadn't exactly been out to himself at that point, so seeing Danny back from New Orleans, even more tanned, with even more defined muscles—yeah, Scott might get a little nervous whenever he sees him now.

And it doesn't help that they seem to be seeing more of each other now than they did while at school. They run into each other in town. When Scott went back to fill in for Coach while he was away towards the end of the year, Danny just kept showing up, saying he was visiting a teacher to discuss something (he is, after all, in computer programming now, so it makes some semblance of sense), and they'd talk out on the field. He bmped into him while bringing his mom lunch at the hospital. 

Scott even saw him while out with Lydia two weeks ago. He was catching up with Jackson, who was also back in town for the holidays, like everyone else. 

And now at work, too. The universe seems to be playing some joke on him. He doesn't mind all that much, for once. As long as this isn't going to lead to him finding out that Danny's actually been turned into a vampire, or has been possessed by some new, evil spirit.

"Thank you," Danny says, lifting his eyes to Scott. Of course, Scott's still the one looking up at him, because it would appear Danny has had another growth spurt as well as everything else. 

Scott realizes he isn't answering. Just gazing. He grins, and hastily tries to not be totally obvious.

"Just doing my job," he says with a shrug. 

Danny rolls his eyes. "Yeah, but I know for a fact that this clinic should have been shut for the rest of the holidays. So, thank you for seeing her anyway."

Scott hesitates at that. "Well… you're a friend. And I had to come in today anyway. And—" he looks down at Lola, who's settled back down on the table, and gives her head another rub "—I couldn't just leave this one stranded on Christmas Eve."

"We both thank you, then." Danny then holds out one of the coffee cups. "A gesture to prove it."

"God, thank you," Scott says, gratefully accepting the cup and taking a drink. "I haven't had anything all day. Or since last night. Including sleep. I might be running on three Mountain Dews and a kitkat."

Danny raises his eyebrows in disbelief. "That… can't be good for you."

Scott just shrugs again. He'll probably feel the effects later on today, since it's currently only one-thirty in the afternoon. As long as he makes it to four to head to the station to see Stiles, then he can head back home and have a nap. And maybe food.

"I didn't know the life of a vet was so demanding."

"It's the holidays," Scott explains, taking another drink before continuing. The gingerbread-cinnamon-whatever is in this latte is the best thing he's ever had right now. "Lots of people want their pets better before Christmas and New Year. A lot of strays get found with bad injuries. Currently I have—"

Barking starts up from the dog room in the back. Scott smiles, gesturing towards the door as Lola once again perks up.

"—them. Eight labrador puppies. They're under a year old. Deaton and I were trying to get them rehomed before the holidays, but it didn't work out. That's why I was coming in to work anyway, since Deaton's out of town."

"Never mind, your job is clearly far more demanding than I thought." Danny smiles, glances down at Lola, then pauses. "Do you need a hand with them at all? They sound pretty eager for attention."

"Yeah, I was gonna take them out for a walk once I was finished up here," Scott says.

Danny's grin widens. "You planned to walk eight hyperactive labrador puppies by yourself? In the snow?"

Scott just gives another shrug. "They're not too hard to handle once they're outside."

The look Danny is giving him only intensifies the fluttery feeling in his chest. It's like something's tickling him from the inside. He can feel the heat beneath his skin, in his cheeks.

"Guess that whole Alpha thing really does give you an advantage, huh," Danny says, a certain teasing twinkle in his eyes but his grin sincere.

Scott has barely gotten used to the idea of Danny knowing about the supernatural at all, never mind him making casual comments about it. And especially not while he's looking at him like that.

"I don't know if it's anything to do with that," Scott says, shaking his head. "But… sometimes, yeah. It comes in handy."

Danny nods. The puppies are still barking in the back, trying to get Scott's attention.

"Well, I think Lola could use a walk after being so good about this," Danny says. He looks at Scott, smiling. "Mind if we join you? I can be pretty good with dogs, might help to take a couple off your hands for an hour."

Scott's eyebrows raise in surprise, and his heartbeat raises itself as well. 

"You… but—" he frowns, his head tilting with a confused smile "—it's Christmas Eve. Don't you wanna get back to your family?"

"They won't miss me for a little while," Danny says, brushing it off. Then, because he seems to be catching on, he rolls his eyes, and says, "Please? You helped me with Lola when you clearly already had your hands full. I wanna do more than get you coffee."

Scott's heart drops into his stomach and lurches right back up. He swallows, and tries to keep his mind on one track, biting his lip. 

"Uh… yeah," he breathes out before he can think twice. "You know what? That would be great. Thank you."

"No problem," Danny says, sincerely.

They get Lola to hop off the table, and head into the back room to get the others ready. Danny just laughs when he sees the little christmas hats Scott put on the ones that were happy to wear them.

As they're getting them all on their leashes, Danny casually adds, with a glance at Scott, "And if you were up for it, I'd like to get coffee with you sometime."

Scott accidentally clips the leash to his hand instead of the collar. He winces, quickly undoing it and fixing it to its right place instead. Then he looks over at Danny and his amused grin, his heart racing.

"Like—like a date?" he asks, hardly daring to believe that's what he means. Danny was never interested in him. Was he? 

Scott's quickly going through every interaction he's ever had with him.

"Exactly a date," Danny corrects. 

Scott's eyes are wide. His mouth opens, then closes. He wasn't prepared for this. Sure, the thought of Danny liking him back crosses his mind after Stiles and Lydia both insisted that he did after he told them about running into him all those times. But that doesn't mean he was prepared for it.

"You can say no," Danny says, giving another casual shrug as clips the last lead on to the last excited puppy. "I just thought I might as well ask. Waiting three years to do it was bad enough, I didn't want to seem totally pathetic by waiting four to at least know what you'd say."

"Three—what?" Scott asks in disbelief, sure that he must have somehow misheard. "You've wanted to ask me out for… three years?" 

"Like I said, it was starting to seem pathetic." Danny looks at him, holding his stare with a soft gaze. "But, Lydia told me that you came out last year, and after seeing you, I figured I should at least ask."

"Wow. Uh…" Scott's mind is a mess, and he can't sort his thoughts out. Except for one. "I'd love to."

Danny blinks, thrown off his own guard now. Apparently even he wasn't prepared. But he quickly recovers, as does Scott, smiles forming across both their faces.

"Go on a date with you, I mean," Scott says, as if it needs further elaboration. 

"Really?" Danny asks. "Uh… today?"

Scott's breath is knocked out of him, but he's already nodding again. "Yeah, absolutely."

He didn't think anything could make the fluttery feeling in his chest worse. Turns out, Danny smiling at him like he is right now is the thing that can. 

"Okay, great," he says. "Then let's get these guys out of here."

Scott happily agrees. They head out of the back door after making sure the front is locked up. It has to be an hour or more that passes as they walk the dogs through town, taking an open path into the woods, through the snow. The whole way, Scott and Danny are talking, and laughing, catching up on the years they missed and in between. 

#teen wolf #twedit #twrarepair #scanny #scott x danny #danny x scott #scott mccall #danny mahealani #twelve days of rarepairs #rowing the rarepair rowboat #myedits* #childofsquidward #wait no I actually really like this one #I never Really shipped these two before but ?? they were so easy to write for ?? #and they're just so Soft????

[bxllafanficc]

¡Skate/sing your hearts out! (Yuri Plisetsky x reader)

(part six)

Part one. Masterlist!

Summary: After last year's cancellation of Figure Skating Grand Prix, Yuri Plisetsky finds himself unable to bring out his inner skater after a year of doing nothing but enjoy life like a regular teenager. That's when you enter the picture; We Are Voice Grand Awards's currently hottest competitive vocalist come first place two years in a row. Just like the other competitors of Grand Prix, it turns out that Victor and Yuuri faces the same issue. With an arrangement between Victor and Yakov, they agree to travel to Japan and hire you as a mutual coach for Yuri and Yuuri to help bring back the emotion into their performances like before, maybe even more intense than ever. Yuri however, who's never experienced issues with his coaches before, for some reason finds this one particularly difficult to coexist along with in their (reasonably) odd partnership. Warnings: none

*Your POV*

(Next morning)

"A-achooo!"

You jolted out of your sleep when the loud sound hit you. Half-asleep, you fumbled after a potential threat and thrashed with your legs to get out of bed. Your eyes weren't even open yet and you heard a shocked shriek from Magnolia before something skipped across the sheets and disappeared. You threw the blanket off you, threw yourself to the left to shake it away and-

*Thud*

Ow. You opened your eyes, finally. There was no attack, obviously. If your dream hadn't been about being the captain of a pirate ship as you were in the middle of getting attacked by the Englishmen, there would've been no reason to react that way, you thought.  The loud sound was the sound of a canon ball about to hit you, you'd figured. You let the impact of the floor stone you and you just laid there, thinking of what you were currently doing with your life; too tired to move.

"...(Y/n)? Did you- ... Are you dead?"

Hmmm, wait. Yuri, r-right. He saw that totally.

You rose to your knees and slowly peeked over the bedside, upon Yuri's weary gaze. Only your eyes were visible of course. No point in giving him the chance to see your red tainted cheeks after such an embarrassing act.

"(Y/n). What... are you doing?" His voice thick and dry, almost hoarse. He looked at you with his eyes barely widened. You then noticed how awfully colorless his skin was. Well, except for the redness around the base of his nose. Heavy bags under his eyes displayed on his features as well.

"What in the- Well you seem to have had a rough night, Plisetsky." It wasn't particularly an insult. He did look like the ceiling had been falling in on him and as if he had no choice to carry it the entire night. Yuri gave you a snort and leaned back in his bed.

"Shut up, Duchess."

You picked up your fallen blanket and placed it on top of the bed as you eyed the skater. Then the feeling of Magnolia bumping his head against your leg made you look down and sigh.

"Yeah whatever, Punk." You cradled the large cat in your arms and scratched his chin. 'Sorry, darling. I'll make it up to you...' You whispered in the cat's ear and kissed the top of his head. A purr started drumming from his belly but was quickly drowned out by another loud sneeze and a cough right after.

'Oh my, he isn't... Right?' You thought and the Russian boy sniffled harshly. Even Magnolia gave you a 'What's the matter with him?' look. You made your way to his bed and was met with swimming eyes. Even the stunning shade of blue and sea green had faded slightly and had been replaced with a grayish contrast.

"Yuri... Did you get sick from the waterfall yesterday?" You placed the back of your hand against his forehead and the heat hitting you almost made you retract it immediately. That, however, was done anyway by Yuri briskly swatting your hand away with a groan.

"'M fine!" He's burning up with a fever and he's laying here, lying straight to your face while looking close to passing out any minute. Another sneeze and you had decided what to do next.

"I'm calling Yakov that there will be no training for the following days. You get rested."

"No! I-I don't have such time! I'll practice anyway!" He sat up immediately and bore his gaze into you. You assumed that it was meant to be seen as fierce and energetic but it more looked like the kind of stare a drunk person trying to stare his way through solving a math-problem. You gently but firmly laid a hand on his chest at the intention to hold him back from straining himself any further. His gaze met yours with newfound shock and you ignored the feeling of a loud *thump* pulsing through your hand from inside his chest. A slight stutter was heard before you pushed him back down onto the mattress and held him still for a moment. 'Stay.' Was the message that thankfully got through.

"Rest and I'll be back soon, okay? You're not doing anything until you've recovered." Your words were stern but only a nod was seen from the boy as his eyes were intensely fixated upon your hand holding him down. Just then you noticed the rest of his face had turned red and damp from sweat as well, almost sure that it hadn't been there before. 'Oh no, his body turned hotter just now and his heart is beating out of his chest. Better get him some breakfast and call Yakov immediately before he dies or something.' And with that, you left the room and headed towards the kitchen.

You were making some hot chicken soup on the stove when Victor made his way into the hall and saw you, immediately stopping to see what you were up to.

"Smells delicious (Y/n). What are you making? Can I try?" He peeked above your shoulder and gasped lightly. Your shoulders were cradled by his arms from behind and he pushed his weight onto you, causing you to stumble.

"Pleaseeee?"

"Okay, okay! But just a spoon, alright? It's to Yuri." Victor sheered and waved at Yuuri as he as well now joined them in the kitchen. Next moment a spoon was dipped into the soup and the man started fussing about how great it tasted. He then made Yuuri try it as well meanwhile he stood beside you, taking low.

"A soup only to Yuri, huh? I'd say you're growing rather fond of him at this point. Is it 'made with love' as well?"

"Yuri's come down with a fever from yesterday's adventure. I cancelled his practice with Yakov for the rest of the week. Meanwhile, he said Yuri should think about choosing his music and a possible theme for his skating program this year so Yakov can go ahead and choreograph it in time for his return. Maybe you could help him with the theme and all that? I think he'd appreciate a little push into the right mind of thinking."

Victor fell silent and scratched the top of his head as he stared into the soup. You were heading to grab some red shiny apples and rinsed them under the water flow of the sink.

"How unfortunate that he'll have to postpone his practicing like that... Of course I'll help! Though, it's still a little suspicious of you nursing him back to health, I must say.

"Oh, just quit it, will you?"

"How are you feeling? You look pretty washed up." You pushed the door open and was met with Yuri scrolling on social media. His leg slumped over the other, laying on his back. You knew exactly why the media had been the center of his attention. Yesterday's news blew up around the entire world and people are freaking out on social media. But it wasn't just that. A few already silenced fans of the other figure skating idol's wrote about how it wasn't fair to the rest of the competing programs to have such an advantage. Some even went as far as speculating about Yuri Plisetsky already being so sure on winning this season's Grand Prix and with that, that arranged tour with you. As if  he hired you as coach because of that. To get to know you before the big collaboration between the two competitions.

"I always do. No point in rubbing it in though." You put the soup down on a little nightstand you pulled in front of the bed. Followed by the soup came a glass orange juice and a tray with star-shaped apple-slices. He grabbed the spoon you handed him and gave you a quiet 'thanks' before attacking the food.

"That's really not what I meant."

"Then what did you mean?"

"I implied you look tired. That's what washed up means." You grabbed a chair from your desk and but it beside him on the floor. He looked slightly bugged that you'd be staying so close to him like that. Maybe he worried about another person getting sick but probably not. It was you at risk in this matter and he didn't exactly care about you, you knew. And yes, getting sick is a down step for a singer since the recovery can be slow and painful. But you didn't really care this time. Besides, you wouldn't be starting this season of We Are Voice in a good month anyway.

"You meant ugly though." His words were subtle and caused you to blink, slightly dumbfounded. Why did he say those things so casually about himself?

"You're never ugly, Yuri."

Wasn't he the one with confidence and pride worth a tiger's during last season's Grand Prix? It feels a little out of place somehow. For him to put himself down after only been doing it to others before.

"Say what now?" He took an apple slice between his fingers and inspected it before chewing it up with a mouth of orange juice.

"... You're actually really pretty... if only your personality wasn't to nasty though..."

You just felt like saying it, honestly. You felt like maybe he needed to hear it. And the parted lips and the wide stare you received from him revealed that you just might have been right. But he quickly read into the following sentence of your exclamation and shook his head.

"H-Hey!" The insult clearly hit the right spot as well judging by the pout and the blush. You flashed him a grin and let a loud laugh escape your lungs.

"Just eat your damn soup,Plisetsky!"

"Hey um... " You looked up from the book you had been reading. Yuri was finished with his breakfast and had been eying you for a good long minute in secret before deciding to speak up. You had just decided to ignore it and figured he'd say something if he felt like it.

"I have been wondering. So the reporter called you The Aubade Duchess yesterday... What does that stand for anyway?" The events of yesterday hit you in the gut once again. The loud screaming and the now so familiar pressure around you. They had been calling you The Duchess of (nationality) ever since your first year at the senior league of We Are Voice where you came in third. You hadn't been competing as a junior the years before but you were immediately a favorite of the people. Then, your second year, you won first place and earned the word 'aubade' to your fan made title. Last year, even though your competition grew more hellbent on winning, you came in first place once again. Your own coach had promised your fans a third golden success for this years finals. The title kind of stuck as you grew up on the stage.

"Right, that. Aubade stand for 'a love song which is sung at dawn', I have been told. It's silly, really." You turned to watch a certain detail in the marble floor, expecting some kind of teasing to come next. But the room fell silent for a moment and your eyes sought the reason behind the reaction.

"It suits you." It had been quiet. But you heard it nonetheless. Yuri wasn't meeting your gaze either but noticed your stunned surprise anyway.

"W-well, I mean... No- maybe? I don't know! It sounds ridiculous, just like you! God, you're so clingy and asking too many questions all the time."

He's been acting so... strange from his usual behavior. Like the fever has turned him into a less tense and distrustful version of himself almost. Wasn't he able to think straight? Perhaps you should treat him as a drunk person after all.

Even though your hand had been previously swatted away, you still put it to his forehead anyway. It was as hot as the first time and the heat made you snap back to your current situation.

"Shit. You're burning up... maybe I should-" You were cut off by Yuri leaning into your hand and closing his eyes. His entire posture screamed 'about to pass out'.

"Your hand... feels cool and nice..."

What the hell? Yeah he's as good as drunk. Wait no- you should call an ambulance, right. This is really bad.

"Oh. Should I get you a damp towel?" You were just about to retract your hand. To leave the room and attend to his fever once again but you were stopped. The Russian Punk took a weak hold on your wrist and held your palm close to his forehead. He sniffled once more before nuzzling into your hand with a little sigh. One more sniffle and he was out.

Light breathing was heard and he was finally asleep. On you, though. You couldn't even reach your phone to dial the hospital. You didn't want to scream for help either because it might have woken him up. But then, you couldn't help but feel a tad of relief as you were finally given a (kind of) break for a few moments.

But you had stuff to do. Those towels wouldn't wet themselves and you better prepare them for him. You began the attempt to remove your hand as carefully as you could but were immediately cut off by the soft mumble of a sound asleep Yuri.

"Mm... Don't you dare go anywhere."

...Okay then.

#inspiration #yuri on stage #yurio plisetsky #yuri on ice fanfiction #yuri on ice fandom #yuri katsuki #yuriart #yurianime #yuri on ice #yuri plisetsky x reader #yuri plisetsky #anime icons #anime fanfic #anime #animelove #best anime

[samtheflamingomain]

25.21%

I've been sober for 3 months today. 92 days. 25.21% of 2021.

I could've posted more updates, more milestones (it took a LOT not to post on Day 69) but I wanted to kind of save it up for a Big Day. It was also a decent way to continue to incentivize my continued sobriety: a full pass to do a shameless, hardcore bragging sesh.

Anyway, this post comes in 2 parts: the TL;DR for those who only want the gist, then more in depth on my ability to stay sober, the lasting effects of rehab, etc.

I tried my damnedest to pare this absolute novel down, but it's long, so feel free to dip out if you just get bored. Onward!

TL;DR: I went to rehab the beginning of July for 3 weeks and haven't had a drop of alcohol since. I've lost weight, I'm more healthy, my daily anxiety level went from 8 to 2, I haven't had an anxiety attack in 3 months, and everything generally just seems... easier. My memory and concentration have improved. I've been productive and I've been meditating every day. I'm saving money, and while I sometimes fantasize about getting drunk, that's usually all it is.

Honestly, it's been much easier than I expected, but I think a lot of that is because for the first 3 weeks, the time in which I would usually break down and start drinking again when trying to get sober myself, was spent behind a locked door. So far I haven't had any days where I was close to giving in. I haven't had many days where I've been depressed about it, missing it or really tempted. Maybe 3-4. I've basically just gotten on with my life as if alcohol doesn't exist.

To wrap up the short version for those ready to peace out, I'll leave it with a bit of advice.

I don't feel qualified to give any specific advice, because my story feels very unique to me, and I honestly don't think what worked for me will work for MOST people. Sometimes people spend a year in rehab and still drive straight to the liquor store on their way home.

That said, there's one thing that I've found pretty universally true: you have to really want it. For a while, I floated about without much of a "reason" to stay sober. I don't have a spouse, kids or a job I've been fired from, so I didn't see the point.

It's taken me a while, but after not being "convinced" by a few superficial "reasons" like weight loss and saving money, I thought I needed something more... permanent? Consequential? I now realize that my "reason" for getting sober at a young age after only a few years of alcoholism is that I don't want it to get to a point where I'm hurting other people, drinking myself into multiple lasting health problems... I don't want it to become permanent or consequential.

Anyway, that's my two cents. If you do have something like kids or trouble keeping a job, definitely use that as your reason. But for anyone who's a pretty "functional" alcoholic like I was, "not letting it go on long enough to become disfunctional" is a good enough reason.

This is going to get stupid long, so feel free to walk away now, just glad you read this much and it really does mean the world when people listen to what I have to say.

Now some more things in depth. I'll go in chronological order: what made me get sober, what I took from rehab (and what I left), and how it's been the past few months.

I started drinking when I got kicked out, manic out of my mind and homeless unable to sleep. It took a while until I was able to sleep without alcohol, but by then the addict brain had taken over. I'd tried a few times to get sober myself, but I never made it more than a week without, and always got back to daily drinking after a few months maximum.

Some people need a "wake up call", a "last straw" or a "rock bottom". Something external to make them realize they can't go on as they are. For me, the catalyst was my health, which is more of an internal reason I suppose. I didn't have a heart attack or liver failure, but my anxiety was getting uncontrollable and I knew it was directly tied to my drinking.

My life had been starting to feel tolerable, and I was more financially secure than ever before. Things were looking up... except for the alcoholism. This is a weird analogy but the only one that makes sense to express why, if I was doing so well on paper, I decided to go to rehab: you have to sweep before you mop. If I hadn't been in the place I was, I don't think I would've been successful at rehab. I had to sweep up the cat turds from the floor of my life before I was able to mop up the shit stains with sobriety. I know, I'm a true wordsmith.

When I finally called the hotline that hooked me up with a bunch of different rehabs, I knew I was in for a wait. It was about 5 months from that call to checking in, which isn't too bad considering I've been on the waitlist for a neuropsychiatrist in ALL OF CANADA for 4 years.

That brings us to July 12th, Rehab Day One. I've gone in depth in multiple other posts but to touch on it briefly, if I had to describe my experience in a sentence I'd say "the place I went to got very lucky with me".

What this means is that, of the 5 people in my group, I think this exact program was only ever going to help me. At the same time, I didn't even know what I would need, but this exact program was 90% of it. I didn't think 3 weeks would be long enough, but for me it was. The hours-long, repetitive, basic-ass CBT groups held 5 times a day 7 days a week was absolute torture for everyone but myself. While it was a drag to spend an hour on defining what a cognitive distortion is, the routine and repetition, something I've never gotten out of any outpatient program, helped me to really absorb the information and let it rewire my brain.

I've always said that I'm someone who should be spending an hour a day with a therapist for the rest of my life, and while that's not even remotely feasible, this was as close as it's ever gotten, and it proved me right, because it worked. I've done biweekly therapy for a short time but even that didn't come close to the way my brain changed in those 3 short weeks.

This program required absolute commitment and open-mindedness. This isn't because it was hard work or difficult concepts, but quite the opposite. While I hate the entire concept of art therapy being used as a cure-all for mental illness, I willingly got out of my bed, went downstairs and tried doing a dot mandala for an hour because I'm willing to try anything to get better. A lot of people might think they are, but really aren't. To use the mandala as an example, one guy was really into it, I wasn't, but we both finished. The other 3 tried, messed up a few times, and then scrolled through their phones. When I say this program necessitates complete engagement, that's not a compliment. It shouldn't be a chore to engage with the program. It shouldn't take me actively saying "I know I've known this basic concept since 4th grade, but maybe hearing it again will help" to get something out of a rehab program. So again, in every way, I got lucky, and so did they.

Before I finish with the rehab section, having had a few months to reflect on the whole thing, I now have an endless list of things wrong with it. I arrived, greeted by the most jaded and disillusioned of staff, and quickly became disturbed and at points concerned with just how negligent the staff are.

Maybe it's because I've been on the psych ward where they won't even let you have shoelaces and shine a flashlight on your face every half hour through the night, but it could've been so incredibly easy to sneak in alcohol. I brought 2 full water bottles, fully expecting to have to dump them out upon arrival, but they said "nah it's fine". Is it though?

Then there were actual counsellors there who were... okay. I recall one, the one I thought was the smartest, reading a handout aloud and coming across the word "delve" as in "let's delve into..." and stumbled, then said she doesn't know that word. The room was silent. As she pulled up Google on the screen I said, "it means to dive into it". She Googled it anyway. Synonyms include "dive in". If that was the only example I wouldn't mention it, but this was the first of at least 10 words she had do Google, none past a 10th grade level, from HER OWN MATERIAL. From that point on it became clear that they had no fucking idea what they were doing.

We had one last one-on-one counselling session before we left and the counsellor just filled in boxes to questions on her computer, rephrasing everything I said to fit into the buzzwords and "lessons" we'd "learned". Example. Me: I do think I'm better able to catch myself thinking 'oh I can just have one drink' and say 'no I can't'." Her: "Okay, so would you say that you can recognize negative cognitive distortions like permission-giving thoughts and counter them with a more rational and less emotional mind?" Like girl, blink twice if your boss is holding your family hostage. She gave me some papers, detailing all the online courses they were signing me up for and options for more treatment they'd be sending me, a phone number to call and a phone appointment for the next Monday. I never got that call, the phone number is a hotline, I never got a single email from them, and given how shitty they really are at their jobs, I didn't feel the inclination to try and get those resources. If they even exist in the first place.

In summation, it was a place where it was physically impossible to get alcohol. That's really all I can say in its favor. Oh, and they let you have your cell phone.

Now on our timeline I'm back home. I want to kind of analyze why it's been easy for me.

I often said that my main goal of going to rehab was to lock me away from alcohol long enough for it to reset my brain. Most people thought that was naïve, but that's exactly what happened. But I'm well aware that my experience of "instantly became sober and literally hasn't had a single hard day in 3 months" is absurdly unusual.

I put this down to a few things. Firstly, I'm on seven different meds for my mental health. Almost all of them have their effects dulled or even eliminated when you drink. So when I noticed my mood, fatigue, memory, concentration etc all getting better at once - right about as I left rehab, I don't think it would be a stretch to say that all those meds started working properly.

Secondly, I've been keeping myself busy, but that's something I've always been good at. Now I specifically choose to undertake projects that will eat up a lot my time and put me in a state of flow. I recently made an entire card game from scratch, and let me tell you, I didn't think of alcohol for a week.

Thirdly, my other goals now get in the way of alcohol. I'm getting old and my body is deteriorating. But I've always wanted to do just one last season of gymnastics. Well, I need to lose weight for that to happen. I've already lost 35 pounds, and after another 20 I'll be ready to go. Also, I used to spend more on alcohol per month than rent. Even though I've done a few shopping sprees lately, I haven't come remotely close to how much I was spending before.

I want it more than anything. I want to be sober more than I want one night of "fun" that will more likely than not lead me back to where I was a year ago. I never want to need anything as much as I needed alcohol.

Lastly, just a few more random thoughts.

A lot of people, myself included, worried about the fact that I work at a bar as a cook, but honestly the entire time I'm there I'm thinking about food, not alcohol. If I'm hanging out with some regulars before/after, I can watch them drink and be perfectly fine with my coffee, because the coffee is $2, and I used to spend $20 after every work shift.

I also decided in rehab to start taking better care of myself as best I could. This started with getting my second vax which I'd been putting off, then an eye appointment, then new glasses, then a dentist appointment where I was informed I need to do $3000 worth of work on my implant that's erroding my bone matter, so that sucks, but I caught it early. I've also been meditating every day. In just 3 months, I've made pretty big improvements to my self-care and my daily routine.

One of my fears about sobriety was "missing out" on "having fun". A few days ago, all my housemates got together to play Mario Party, and it was kind of my first night doing something social while sober. It was a breath of fresh air - I wasn't constantly running to piss, I didn't worry about running out of alcohol, I didn't get sloppy and obnoxious as I can sometimes do. I even came very very close to winning my first game of MP. When I reflected on the night, I realized that, if I'd been getting drunk the whole time, I would've sucked at the minigames, been a hindrance to anyone unfortunate enough to be teamed with me, and likely would've stopped caring about the game itself after the first few turns.

Yesterday I was making my 4th pot of coffee of the day when I realized there was a full glass of wine just sitting on the counter. I had absolutely no idea where the hell it came from - nobody in my house drinks wine. I shrugged and poured that sweet sweet bean juice. It was only when I sat down and took a sip of coffee did I find myself thinking automatically, "this tastes so much better than wine". I only realized then that it had been rose wine, the only kind I've ever been able to tolerate. It was the ultimate moment of possible temptation, and the thought of just chugging that glass - as I may've done in the past - didn't even cross my mind.

I'm so glad to be where I am. I'm about to undergo some serious financial changes - i.e. going absolutely broke - but drinking isn't gonna help that, so I'm cautiously optimistic.

Stay Greater, Flamingos.

#rehab #alcoholism #alcohol tw #sam #recovery #sobriety

[owlsbride]

Icha Icha and Prejudice: The Book Club

Chapter V: A Suitable Marriage

"So…" Sakura answered, arriving at an obvious conclusion observing her cup of sake "now you have to go all way to Suna to solve Naruto's mess."

"Yes," Kakashi nodded, looking at the empty space behind her "I'm not exactly thrilled about it, but it's my job after all." He concluded finally directing his gaze to Sakura to look at her big furious green eyes. He suppressed an inner smile.

"But why? Why don't you send Naruto back again? He was the one that asked the Kazekage an extra train program to be a better Hokage" Sakura started annoyed "And Gaara accepted. What was he thinking? Besides, they both made this mess together."

It was infuriating. Gaara, the most collect man she has ever known, all so stoic, silently analyzing everything around him with his sharp mind. Separated from the world, absorbed in his thoughts with his celestial eyes always directed to the horizon, protecting his village. She couldn't understand it.

"Maa, Sa Ku Ra, calm down" Kakashi spoke with his soft tone, guessing what was going on inside her mind "Gaara may be the Kazekage, and a great one, by the way, a fine young man, but inside he's still a child. I think he's still trying to figure out what human relationships are all about, and when being too friendly or solicitous is too much. I guess he couldn't say no to a friend." There was so much tenderness in his words that Sakura sighed leaning back in her chair a little less angry.

"God, he's worst than Sai." Sakura agreed finally most to herself than to Kakashi thinking about the problems that the young man with black hair suffered and caused due to his lack of social empathy.

"Trust me Sakura, if I were to choose between them both..." Kakashi left the phrase hanging. He was not mad at the Kazekage nor Naruto, he was just tired and resigned with the last one. Naruto would never really change.

"Still..." Sakura began again "I don't know why you can not solve this problem from here. Was it that bad?

"You couldn't just start to imagine."

"But this weather..." She was less angry but pushier now.

"If I didn't know you better, I would think you don't want to let me go, Sakura" he spoke in such a suggestive way that Sakura trembled under his gaze "but I'm sure is not the case, right?"

"Of course not Hokage Sama" she was blushing, a lot "I'm just worried about the security of our leader." Sakura finally answered, wrinkling her nose. Kakashi laughed at her face.

"Relax Sakura, I'm not just an old useless politician".

"I guess you are right... you are not a politician" Sakura said, sticking out her tone.

"Careful Sa Ku Ra, the cat may eat your tongue someday" Kakashi answered her with a deep dark tone licking his own lips, or at least that's what she believed. Again the warm feeling forming in her low stomach, now she was sure, it was not her chakra.

"Yeah... anyway..." she tried to hide her excitement and shame at once adopting a much more professional stance, "I think I should go with you." She finished crossing her arms on the table.

"And that could be because...?" Kakashi leaned back on his chair taking distance from Sakura, eyeing her suspiciously, he had seen this coming. He knew that Sakura was going to ask her to go with him.

"I think it's pretty obvious Sensei." He hated the honorifics, but he just stopped fighting it a long ago with Sakura. It was just a mannerism, a way of speaking, not particularly a sign of respect or distance. It was merely their ways, and it was ok, strange and alluring at times, but ok.

"Go on..."

"I believe that the company of a nin doctor in this weird mission of yours, trying to recover Suna from the Tsunami named Naruto, could be of much help." She finished matter of factly.

"For what? a heatstroke?" Kakashi wasn't going to fall in her charms.

"Stop mocking me, Sensei" Sakura pouted. Now she was feeling hurt.

"I'm not mocking you." He smiled. She was cute sometimes. "I'm just saying that there are no risks in my short journey to Suna. It's a safe trip. Only three days and I'll be back; besides, you forget something."

"What?" Sakura asked in confusion

"You are on vacations."

"Yes, a vacation I didn't request for." It was evident that she still felt horrible about that decision.

"And yet, here we are. Having dinner in your second night of" Kakashi said raising his cup, even if he was not going to drink it with Sakura watching straight to his face.

"I guess..." Sakura did drink her sake and started again with all the Suna issue "So, you are going alone? Who is going to be encharged during these days?"

"I asked an old friend to help me here. Luckily she said yes. Having you not accepting the recess and Naruto trying to put his last training in practice is too much of a danger to leave the village alone. And no, I'm not travelling by myself" Kakashi gave her a wink.

"Hey! I'm not that bad. I'm not going to break the rules Hokage Sama". Sakura was starting to feel offended. She was not a girl anymore. He had to stop seeing her like one "I'm not a gir..."

"A girl. You are not a girl anymore." Kakashi finished for her "I'm well aware of that". Eyes darker.

"So, Who is this friend of yours and with who are you travelling with?" Sakura asked incredulously. She didn't know Kakashi had friends except for Guy Sensei and Genma, (who were definitely not suitable for cover him in these three days) less a woman. Why was she a bit jealous, and why was Kakashi noticing it? He laughed a true-hearted laugh.

"Easy Sakura, Lady Tsunade is going to take my place these days, I think she is more than capable, don't you agree? He was genuinely asking her opinion.

"Wow!" Sakura said in surprise "She must really love you like to say yes."

"Doesn't everyone love me? He was such a Drama Queen. "And about the travelling arrangements, I'm going with Shikamaru."

"Well..." Sakura pondered "Shikamaru is really capable, and he is your advisor. I think he is the most suitable for the job." Sakura concluded.

"Yes," Kakashi stated. "though, I think he has his personal agenda on this journey."

"Oh... You mean..." Sakura didn't want to talk more words than necessary. She didn't know how much information Kakashi had about Temari and Shikamaru's relationship.

"Of course Sakura," Kakashi spoke as it was the most obvious thing in the world "The princess."

"So you know..." It was not a question.

"Sakura, I'm not the Hokage for nothing, you know?" There was fun in his voice. "I've seen how they look at each other, I've listened when they talk at the phone. I've been there when they fight together side by side at the Fourth War. It was just a matter of time." He finished almost with longing.

"Like us" Sakura whispered to herself not expecting Kakashi to listen.

"Like us, what? His eyes were gleaming. Sakura felt nervous.

"Just..." she had to think quickly. "Just like the rest of us, you noted the romance coming back then too." That was closed. Kakashi shifted his mouth uncomfortably under his mask, wrinkling his nose. He wasn't buying it.

"Yes." Disappointment in his words. "Anyway... I think a wedding is coming soon and it will become most profitable for both villages. Suna and Konoha united forever. Shikamaru and princess Temari, we couldn't ask for more." Kakashi spoked low.

A cold chill ran down Sakura's spine upon hearing Kakashi's words. It was the Hokage who spoke: cold, distant, calculating. She wasn't sure if she liked this version of Kakashi. Yes, she has witnessed terrible decisions that he had to make as the village leader, she had seen the horrors of the war and what makes people do. But why this bothered her so much? Was it because she had lost sight of the fact that he was the Hokage after all and not just his partner, friend, and secret fantasy? Was she so in love that, now, only one sentence about the convenience of marriage was enough to make all the bandages fall off?

Kakashi hadn't actually said anything about fixing a marriage, but that's what it sounded like, and inside her, it seemed painful.

"What's wrong, Sakura?" Kakashi asked full of worry. He had just realized after his lazy conversation that something had bothered Sakura.

"Is that how you see us?" Sakura began without looking at him "only as exchange goods, potential political deals or war unions thanks to a good marriage and the lineage that can come out of it?"

"I'm sorry, Sakura, but I can't see the problem there" Kakashi answered in all honesty.

"Sure..." Sakura said dryly in a mocking tone "then maybe I can go for the Kazekage. What do you think? I'm sure that is highly beneficial".

Kakashi was confused, but he was not going to recoil.

"Well, Sakura, good luck with that, cause I don't think Gaara is into girls..." He started doubting "Actually, I think he is into nothing at all, but that's your choice." Why was he getting angry? "Now, if instead, you would like to set your eyes on the brother, Kankuro, that could be something entirely different."

"You can start making the arrangements then, and as Hokage, you can walk me down the aisle." Sakura suppressed a tear.

"That would be your father´s job. I may be old, but that´s not my place" Kakashi retorted angrily, but without racing his voice.

"My parents lost faith in me long ago, I don´t think they are interested in my wedding, they think I´m already too old for that" She was sad, resigned. They have stopped talking to her when she refused to marry Sasuke, another suitable arrangement.

"What the hell are you talking about? I'm not one of those characters of that stupid book of yours, Lizzie."

Sakura looked down, suddenly she was feeling a bit ashamed. She avoided his eyes at all cost, and she was safe by the waitress announcing that the restaurant was closing. Kakashi paid the bill without saying anything, and they both started walking home, strangely taking the same path.

Sakura was the first in breaking the silence.

"You are reading the book, eh?"

"Hmmm" Kakashi hummed as the only answer.

"Already bored?" She was watching at the stars.

"Actually no" Kakashi began "Even if I don't know yet what to think about it, debating my self between if it is a good manner manual or a statement of the women position in the society, I have to recognize it's quite interesting."

"You haven't read enough yet" Sakura was acting childish. How was it possible that he still didn't realize that the book was actually an ode to true love.

"I supposed." He closed the conversation.

They continue walking a few more blocks before arriving at Sakura's door. Finally, they face each other.

"Sakura, listen" Kakashi needed to clear some things before parting to Suna "What I meant earlier" he swallowed hard "I would never jeopardize the happiness of any of you for the good of the village. You are my priority. The marriage between Shikamaru and Temari is indeed a benefit to Konoha, but that does not mean that I'm directing your lives from a desk. All of you already risk enough every day out there. I would not take love out of your hands."

Sakura nodded with her mouth dry, she needed a drink, a strong one. She finally locked eyes with him and smile much more relaxed.

"Are you going to send me a text as soon as you arrived Suna?" Sakura asked in a happy tone.

"Of course" he simply answered, hands in his pocket.

"And are you going to send my regards to the Kazekage and his brother?" Now she was teasing.

"If that's what you wish..." Kakashi left the phrase got lost in the air. The storm menacing again once more the Konoha's sky.

Sakura laughed heartedly.

"Good night Kakashi Sensei, have a good trip." Sakura said, turning her back to him.

She suddenly stood frozen with her keys trembling in her hands.

Warm breath sifted through the mask ran down her neck and the lobe of her ear. Kakashi hadn't gotten to touch a single hair of her, but all of it rose on her body. Her breath stopped for an instant that seemed like hours, his words tickling as he spoke.

"Have a good night you too, Lizzie." And just like that Kakashi disappeared.

Inner Sakura was going to be happy.

Notes:

So many things to say

1- It´s getting really really late here but I wanted to post it anyway

2- A little bit of tension is not that bad

3- Next chapter we may know, or not, what Naruto has done at Suna. Also, I´m pretty sure that the virtual chat is coming back.

4-Kakashi is making his homework after all.

5- I like the idea that Gaara may be a bit of asexual, though the story shows us different.

6- You Know what to do.

7- If there is anything else you would like to know, please write to me

8- Can somebody be so lovely and helpful and explain me how to link the chapters for making it easy to read? I'm almost as stupid as Kakashi with tech

#fandom #fanfiction #fan #love #share #review #follow 👑 share ❤️ enjoy 🍑 #naruto verse #kakashi fanfiction #kakashi hatake #kakashi x sakura #kakasaku fanfiction #kakasaku #sakura fanfiction #sakura haruno #sakura hatake #sakura #haruno sakura #icha icha paradise #icha icha tactics #pride and predujice #jane austen #literature #supportartists #supportwriters #reblog #ao3 fanfic

[rixxy8173571m3w1p3]

Mamihlapinatapai Or The Season Of Longing

A/n: Here is another fic. Since it's been raining like crazy and I have spent way too much time indoors because of the weather, I decided to write this. The poem featured in this fic is called Lluvia by Jorge Luis Borges. I finally figured out how to put things under the cut so that my followers don't have to scroll through a large post 😅 It's another piece set before Doofus Rick and the reader were dating. Feel free to check out the other fics in my Masterpost.

In this fic the reader isn't the only one longing

___________

Imagine that instead of a blue sky, there was an off white, almost grey sky, and what should've been wispy white clouds were blankets of rumbling thunderstorms without a drop of rain; that was how you thought you might've felt. There was a name to this feeling, but you weren't sure what to call it; as though you were missing something you couldn't place; not sadness or grief, but whatever came in between. No, nothing bad had happened, and there hadn't been any disagreements between you and Rick, but something did occur which fed this alien feeling. It seemed that only a few days ago you were alright, but then you invited him over and he had a chance to look over those books you had mentioned. That day he had returned home from work and came over right after; offering his best of smiles and a piece of candy from his labcoat pocket as soon as he crossed the threshold of your doorway; it was nothing out of the ordinary, but it was charming all the same.

With swiftness, you had led him to your hallway closet so that you could bring down the box of books sitting on the upper shelf; that was where you kept a great portion of your father's old books. Father had been a fan of languages and botany, but ventured into the bizarre mystery from time to time; being a master of neither, you had hidden them away for a later date; mostly because the memories were more disheartening then they space they took up. With all your might, you stood on the tips of your toes in a vain attempt to reach, but your fingers barely brushed the edge of it; you should’ve just used the step ladder. It was Rick's small huff of effort which alerted you to his nearness as he unexpectedly stretched up and grabbed said box when you had a little trouble. Goodnaturedly, he carried it towards the kitchen while you took a moment to calm your girlish heart.

Coaxed away from your thoughts by the dusty cardboard and the delighted guest, you nodded lightly to give him the go-ahead to help himself. His gentle presence made him a joy to study; not in the way he examined things in the world or of the world, but in the way one does when fascinated by a butterfly or a fresh bloom hidden in an otherwise barren bush; he was a miracle. With care he pulled out one book after another, glancing through their pages and making piles for which one's he'd like to borrow. In a way he seemed to belong to this house; as though what wasn't found within pages of novels could be sought, and felt beyond reason; flowing calmly and relished in these favorable moments. Although it wasn't much, and that borrowing books could be of little consequence except to the reader itself, you hated to see him go.

Now thinking of it days later, you found yourself wondering about its significance as well as a plethora of other things as you walked to the store and back. You hadn't needed anything in particular, but you felt slightly better being outdoors; the fresh air allowed you to believe you could think better. The sounds of light traffic and grass being cut somewhere along in the neighborhood felt timeless as you walked around the corner, almost home. The wind blew, rustling your clothes and you narrowly lost the receipt that hung out of your pocket, but that didn’t bother you.

Rain clouds were rolling in from the west and you hoped it wouldn't rain before you reached home. And the closer you got, the more you could see the familiar house of your lovable neighbor. A smile couldn't help but stretch across your face at the thought and you hoped he was home so that you could ask if he'd had a chance to look those books over but that alien feeling bloomed again; the sinking, drowning, heavy feeling. How you wanted to be with him despite what reason thought was logical. The dance of your heart would've loved nothing more than to place a dozen or more kisses upon his smile lines while he stammered into the next week. Oh, your foolish heart had taken on a personification of its own these days; speaking and thinking of itself and it's wants like a second brain; draining you whenever it appeared.

Yet, before you knew it you had reached home and dropped off what you had bought before stepping out again. From your front yard, you could see that he was in the garage and you questioned whether you should go over and attempt to alleviate this feeling; it’d vanish whenever you were with him. You must’ve stood there thinking for a while as to what ought to be done for the pitter-patter of rain broke this trance-like state and you ran back towards your front porch. How silly you have become as of late with this strange crush of yours. Weren’t you past these sort of schoolgirl feelings? Perhaps, but it was more than that.

You sunk into your wicker bench and listened to the sound of the rain as it hit the roof and walkway. The earthy scent of the lawn and the splash of puddles as cars drove by was a welcomed distraction. A nap didn’t seem like such a bad idea. Yet, gentle footsteps and the sound of a closed umbrella woke another sort of feeling within you; that of hope.

“Golly, it - it sure is raining cats and dogs t-today.” he commented.

The words were out of your mouth as soon as you were aware of him; of this creature who walked out of a daydream. “I didn’t think I’d get to see you.”

“Huh? Are you alright? Did s-something happen?”

“I'm fine,” you answered; all at once conscious of him and your surroundings. “it’s just...I thought about coming over to ask if you checked out any of the books but it started to rain.”

“Th-that's part of the reason I'm here,” he confessed. “I-I had noticed you went out for a-a walk and wanted to make sure you had come home safely.”

“As you can see, I made it back in one piece. Although, I did get my hair wet. Though, that's the least of my problems.”

“Do you mind if I-I-I take a seat?”

Patting the space beside you, you nodded. “Not at all.”

He set his umbrella to the side before he seated himself and turned towards you. His warmth radiated from him and being as tall as he was, the bench might’ve been too low to the ground since his legs seemed to stick out too much, but he made no complaint. From his inner labcoat pocket, he pulled out a small book. “I thought y-y-you might enjoy this.”

“A book?”

Handing it to you, he commented. “I thought y-you might enjoy this collection of poems. I um - I bookmarked my favorites but I'd like t-t-to know what your thoughts about them would be.”

You knew this whimsical creature was well-read in many respects, but you hadn’t given much thought to the possibility of including works of a more abstract nature. “Sure, that sounds lovely. Though, I hope you don't mind me asking. Do you read works like this often? It's not because I find it strange. Honestly, I find it fascinating and wonderful that you would even consider it, but I ask because I thought….well, I thought you only read serious works related to your work.”

Scratching the back of his neck, he explained. “I read whenever I-I-I find the time and it uh - it usually doesn’t matter what the subject may be. In the pursuit of knowledge, one reads everything. For example, th-the terms and conditions for some computer programs or limited warranties at times list amusing reasons why y-you might be able to get a replacement for a damaged product. It keeps things interesting.”

“I see. It certainly makes sense.”

With a smile, he sighed with contentment as he looked towards the street. “Boy, th-this weather reminds me of a certain poem. It's called um - it's called Lluvia. That's the Spanish word for rain.”

“That's right,” you remembered; his last name should’ve been a reminder enough. “you can speak Spanish. I forget sometimes since you only talk to me in English. So, tell me, how does this poem go?”

“Please forgive me since my Spanish is a-a little rusty.”

Taking a deep breath, he recited calmly. “Bruscamente l-la tarde se ha aclarado, porque y-ya cae la lluvia minuciosa. Cae o cayó. La lluvia es una c-cosa qué sin duda sucede en el pasado. Quien la oye caer ha recobrado, el t-tiempo en que la suerte venturosa. Le r-r-reveló una flor llamada rosa y el curioso color del c-colorado. Esta lluvia que ciega los cristales, alegrará en p-p-perdidos arrabales. Las negras uvas de una parra en cierto. Patio que ya no existe. La mojada, t-tarde me trae la voz, la voz deseada, de mi padre que vuelve y que no ha muerto.”

You stared at this man, amazed by his fluency and ability to fascinate you with the simplest things. Yet again, a reason to be marveled by him. “Whoa, I don't know what you said, but it sounded beautiful when you said it.”

Turning towards you, his smile seemed brighter than usual albeit a bit sheepish. "It's n-nothing special."

"But it is, especially since you can think and speak in more than one language. I can't do that."

"I-I can teach you if you'd like."

"No, that's okay. You're busy enough as it is, but I appreciate the thought. You really are so incredibly smart."

"And you…eres maravillosa."

"What?”

His smile faltered a bit, and he thought to himself for a bit on what he was about to say before his smile returned; albeit more gently. “Eres amable y-y dulce. No soy digno de una amiga como tu.”

“Rick,” you started; confused as to why there seemed to be some sort of admission that you weren’t able to understand. “all the poetic talk is lovely, but I don't think it's fair if you reply in a way I can't understand."

"Si pudieras entenderme," he sighed, wringing his hands in the nervous way he did. "me pregunto qué creerías si te expresara cuánto me preocupo por ti."

Raising from the bench, he said to himself. "Si puedo llegar a la luna, algun dia podria...¿Q-que estoy haciendo?"

"Rick?"

“I’m o-okay. I uh - I zoned out there for a second. I’m sorry.”

“Really? Are you sure?”

“Yeah. I’ll be fine.”

He studied you for a moment longer; a world of words unsaid in his melancholic glances. Was something secretly hurting him like it was hurting you? You could only wonder as thoughts were drowned out by the sound of the rain.

———————————-

It was warm and comfortable with him sitting beside you. His presence always provided a sense of calm that was softer and sweeter than that of the sedatives that eased your anxiety. Why you could fall asleep right here if it weren’t for that fact that you’d be mortified if you allowed it to happen.

“Are you a-a big fan of the rain?” he wondered.

This question had come after a half-hour of companionable silence. “Hmm, it’s not the rain so much as the memories that accompany it.”

“Do y-you want to talk about it?”

“Only if you don’t mind hearing it.”

“I-I don’t mind.” He reassured you.

“Well,” you started. “my dad enjoyed rainy days since he said the plants almost seemed to smile when rainwater hit their leaves.”

“Th-that’s a nice thought.“

“Yeah, I thought so too. When it rains like this, and I’m watching it fall,” you softened; feeling lighter because you had someone to share your thoughts with. “it feels like I’m looking through a curtain. It’s not completely see-through, but the shapes I can see appear softer and more mysterious like how you must’ve appeared when you showed up. Too bad I wasn’t paying attention.”

Oh, you did not just say that out loud. “Or something like that.” You added.

If he had noticed you had tripped over your words then he gave no indication of it. “Gosh, I-I never thought of it that way b-before. I usually see it as part of the pr-precipitation cycle and it smells nice, doesn't it?”

“It does. I wouldn’t mind bottling up this scent, but then it might lose what makes it special.”

Yet, if you could bottle up his scent, it would’ve been nice to keep nearby just in case you wanted a little piece of him.

“That um - that reminds me,” he brightened. “I had baked some mandarin scones before walking over tonight, and I-I-I thought you’d like t-t-t-t-to try them but I didn’t want to risk them getting wet. I-I thought we could share some over tea tomorrow if that’s alright with you.”

Tea time with Rick was like what others did over rounds of drinks; it was to unwind and talk about the day; minus the drunkenness and the unforeseen embarrassment. “Don’t you have to work tomorrow?”

“Gee, I um - I was supposed to, but there was a shift change. Actually, I have a shift t-t-tonight in a-about an hour, but I had wanted to make sure you were alright before I left.”

“Why?”

“Because I-I thought you were going t-to walk over.”

So he had thought the same thing. “Oh, well like I said earlier I had planned to or thought to, but the weather put a damper on things.”

“Yeah.”

“Though, isn’t it funny that we both had the same thought?”

He smiled at that. “It's because gr-great minds think alike.”

What right did he have to be this adorable you thought. All you could do was smile up at him and fight the urge to run your fingers through what appeared to be soft hair; as odd as you had initially thought his haircut was when you met him, you couldn’t imagine him any other way. Still, drawn to his bright, kind eyes, you wondered if you were being attracted by some invisible force to test the limits of this friendship, and yet you knew well enough that now wasn’t the time. Following a slow blink of his, you mentioned without looking away. “Now that we have gotten to see each other, it's probably time to let you go. I wouldn’t want you to be late for work.”

“Y-you’re right.” he straightened; jumping up on his feet with much more agility then seemed possible for someone so mature. “Until next time.”

There he was leaving again when you didn’t want him to. Still, you had no right or claim to him. At least, not yet. “See you tomorrow.”

Grabbing his umbrella, he motioned to open it but paused, and slowly, but surely turned back; his smile almost boyish. “Gosh, I-I will see you tomorrow, right?”

Clutching the book of poems to your breast, you giggled. “Whichever way it may be, we will. I promise.”

Fin

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