#distracting myself from abysmal reality

[akechi-if-he-slayed]

when teachers ask what we did over spring break and all i did was watch yaoi read yaoi smut and play copious hours of p5

#eventful. but personally i think it’s exactly what i needed given the horrific experience i just has at school RIGHT before we left. #the whole persona boy dating my now ex-bsf debacle. #distracting myself from abysmal reality #also i kind of realized that i uhhhh. i did not go outside for a full week. whoopsies..! #thinking of transferring to a diff school in my city for senior year because of this whole situation. but the other school in mind does not #have a wrestling team :/ #so i am just going to have to. as the kids say. Thug it Out. #cannot wait to graduate and leave this city and leave everyone at that school. cannot wait !!!!! #yaoi #persona 5

[unfunnyaceartist]

Vent post ahead that may change your view on me and that may sound dramatic (NOT DIRECTED AT ANYONE, THIS IS JUST IN GENERAL) Mostly just to get out my feelings. I only ask that if you look, to be kind and understanding and patient. Also the tags are silly and id appreciate if you read em. id appreciate if you didnt ask me anything on it

I feel toxic sometimes because i can get so jealous i borderline gatekeep things and I always feel so bad because its never intentional but then I end up hating myself because I know its unhealthy and irrational but I cant help it, and I know im so lucky and have a lot in many senses of the word, but at times it feels like they can be taking everything, because when I like someone or something, they tend to matter a fuck-ton to me. Im sorry to anyone ive lashed out at a bit for them wanting what I have, I really am. Its not coming from a place of hostility, rather a place of trauma responses and hyperfixation that stem from my adhd and autism but like when I try something and it goes great, and then someone else is like "OOH thats awesome I wanna do that too" It feels almost like when Im finally happy or excited or proud to have something, someone comes and takes it. Usually Ill play it off as a joke, but in reality, its complete honesty that im trying to soften so I dont upset anyone, especially when its over fiction or a person, because I do NOT own them and I know that, but it bothers me when someone swoops in to do the exact same things or even one-up especially when its really soon after me, and since my self worth is already abysmal, it just makes me feel worse, like I should be lucky to have what I do to begin with, but I feel the need to hold it close to me and protect it so I dont lose things that make me really happy.

Recently Ive even started reverse gatekeeping in response to others, where ill just tell myself I cant or dont deserve to have anything special because I'm not, and only others can enjoy this. But thats why people making me ship content makes me so happy. Its dumb to get jealous over others selfshipping with a character I like. Its dumb to get upset over someone I know copying or taking heavy inspiration from one of my ideas. Its dumb to get possessive over someone else trying to befriend my new awesome friends or wife/wives. I rarely selfship anymore due to my reverse gatekeeping and instead serve the others who simp or enjoy content. I provide since I feel I cant take. It makes me happy and distracts me. But the moment someone else does something similar to what is my toxic coping mechanism for my toxic coping mechanism, it only hurts worse. Thats why sometimes, for example, I get a bit snappy when someone else provides gummybunny (that and also shipping jealousy sometimes). Thats why I get snappy when I make a friend someone else super cool and then another person comes in and wants to befriend them (No darken, this wasnt directed at you, its happened more than once with more than one person but I know how you tend to assume). I LOVE giving but I hate sharing, because all my life whenever I shared, I lost something.

Introduce a friend to a friend? They leave me behind for eachother. Let someone wear my fitbit because they wanted to feel "rich"? It got stolen. Give money to someone in a "rough spot" who promised to repay me somehow? Never saw them again. I was always so trusting and understanding, and I always made excuses for others. Always so naive and gullible. So much so, in fact, that in elementary I kept letting my bullies pretend to be my friends when they claimed they changed, and let them destroy any ounce of worth I had whatsoever. Things that make me happy I CHERISH because of all the things ive lost and all my experiences. Ive never been hit, not once, but the abuse all my life came emotionally and mentally, and I only recently realized through therapy. Now its hard to trust people in certain situations. Sorry for my probably hard to follow and melodramatic rant.

sorry im dumb haha

#tw vent #By the time I finished writing the post I was no longer a mess about it but im still gonna post it #I SWEAR TO FUCKING GOD IF I SEE ANYONE APOLOGIZING FOR MY OWN ISSUES IM GONNA BE PISSED #yall read all the tags its beneficial lol #Ngl SOME of this jealousy hits hardest with Gummy #because Ill FINALLY get fed some simp food for myself #and then yk #theyll kinda show up and ask to receive the same stuff #or act jealous #gummy #babe I love you #BUT DO YOU KNOW HOW MANY PEOPLE YOU HAVE FEEDING YOU GUMMYBUNNY CONSTANTLY???? #Like mine is rare and far between #and I dont draw much selfship unlike you #LET ME HAVE SOME THINGS DAMMIT #And then Darken over here when I get a cool new friend just like: #... is for me? 🥺👉👈 #/nm for both things #im the embodiment of envy and greed arent I... #I hate upsetting people #I just keep it to myself and internalize my emotions mostly #haha now you guys know how possessive and jealous I am #its giving yandere 🥰💅✨🗣💃🕺😍😘😼🤠🤭😇🙄🤩😜😝🤑🧐😈 #i regret my life choices right about now

[wiw3]

Four New Holes in my Face

Good early, early morning to all of you! This probably takes the cake as my earliest entry, but hey, I need it, and I can’t tell if I’m high or not, so it’s the perfect time to sit down to write something, before the sun has even risen.

So I went to get me wisdom teeth removed yesterday. They had long roots, and were really fascinating to see on an X-ray. I would’ve liked to have stuck around and actually seen the teeth, themselves, if they’d been washed. Apparently, I was a bleeder.

So I kept gauze in for the first several hours after surgery, and replaced it every 30 minutes like a good boy, taking care of my mouth the way the dentists told me to. I was prescribed a handful of different fun little pills that are mostly going to be saved until my post-op, as a reward.

You know, like a junkie.

It just seems like my only opportunity to try Oxy in a safe, and comfortable environment, so I’m taking myself up on it. I don’t have enough to nurture an addiction to opiates, and even if I did, my friends can’t get their hands on it. This is just a little classical drug experimentation.

That’s besides the point, though. They’re special-occasion only, and I’m sharing with my roommate, so I’m not a total monster, at the end of the day, just a drug guy.

I woke up about thirty minutes ago because due to my detoxing off pot for the sake of this surgery, I’ve gotten so much of my hyperactivity back, my energy back, needless to say, I got my mojo back.

I don’t feel nearly as charming off of pot as on it, I can definitely speak, orate, gyrate, and medicate better with it, than without it.

Everyone has something, whether it’s a hobby, gambling, drugs, alcohol, cigarettes, TV, sex, rock & roll, or just a good ol’ fashioned Bible, we all need to distract ourselves from being alive just long enough for it to be over.

Do we really, though? Must we really contend with this reality? Consume and distract ourselves perpetually until a single slip from the banana-peel of mortality cleans us off of the surface of the Earth?

Maybe, it’s hard to say. I’m just a kid who is happy to have the teeth out of my face, with an unforgivingly-complicated post-op instructional paper. 

They gave me that look when I told them I drank a bottle of water to calm my nerves before surgery, along with a little cranberry juice. Apparently, you’re supposed to fast for at least 8 hours before surgery, including water. They made a note of it, though, and still went through with the surgery, even after I updated my medical records to reflect that I consumed an average of a 1/16th of an ounce of weed every day for the last three or so months.

I’ve learned from watching House M.D. that you never lie to the medical professionals in charge of taking care of you, and if you can get within fistbumping-levels of friendliness with your anesthesiologist, they’ll give you the good shit and not kill you. I was hooked up to oxygen for a good and long time before I was put under, telling my doctors stories and listening to theirs.

Maybe my honesty was fueled by the fact that I could’ve died if I lied. The low blood pressure spike that can come without eating solid food or smoking weed in the same regularity that I had, could’ve caused a heart attack, but I’m fine, because I was honest. I told them about the weed, and they accounted for it.

That’s the best part about the United States’ abysmal healthcare system:

They don’t care if you do it anymore, they just want you to be safe.

#writing #blog post #kind of a drug guy #drugs #drugs and society #society #written word #sorry for the rant #dental #dentist #dentists #dentistry #wisdom teeth #wisdom tooth #wisdom tooth removal #wisdom tooth extraction

[kinetic-elaboration]

July 13: Work Stuff

Oh, worm.

Got through today but I’m tired. I have been able to work without interruption and distraction at my job pretty well recently, and that feels good. I am farther along on my projects and goals than I thought I would be, though now in sort of a weird place where I’m not sure what I should do next. There’s plenty TO do but I have to make decisions between things of imo roughly equal importance. Get a new list together.

My lunch break got interrupted today by a question I, for some reason, thought was urgent, but it wasn’t. It was just my supervisor thinking about something she needed my input on and then just getting that input immediately even though I was at lunch and thus really should not have been disturbed. I don’t get paid for my lunch break so as far as I’m concerned I am Not Here during that time. For work purposes, I should be treated as if I were simply at home. I wasn’t mad about it at first but then at the end of the discussion, which lasted (unnecessarily even by its own terms) probably about 15 minutes honestly, she was like ‘well so-and-so needs to choose one (a USB port) too and she’s not in this week... and neither is such-and-such so I’ll have to wait for him too...” and I wanted to scream. So you rushed me over here as if this had to be done now when you’re just going to WAIT a WEEK for other people to answer this question! And I couldn’t wait AN HOUR? Ugh. Fuck that. She usually does respect my time pretty well and she did say I could add the time back to my lunch but uh in fact I could not because my lunch break was running right up against a staff birthday I was the co-organizer of so basically I just got a big chunk eaten out of it. Not to obsess about this stupid thing but, in addition to the Principle of it, I’m really enjoying this Shirley Jackson book and I hate being taken away from it... ON MY TIME.

The birthday party itself was fine. I hate organizing things, I always feel so awkward, and this time was both better and worse. I had a co-organizer who is much peppier than I, but she also has never done this before because she’s new, and I couldn’t even do my one (1) job of remembering tradition right because I kept forgetting stuff after a 2+ year break and also just getting all confused with too much stimulus. I’ve never had a high tolerance for stimulus but at this point it’s really abysmal lol. The actual party was pretty low key, because so many people are out during the summer, and most of the conversation was boring so I just kind of zoned out while people talked about grocery store chains or whatever. (Seriously. That boring.)

Tomorrow I have two meetings, and the timing and likely length of them means I will basically be unable to accomplish anything after 11am. I have nominally 3 hours in the morning (8-11), minus getting myself together/booting up my slow-ass computer in the morning, and booting up a different computer for my zoom meeting at 11. That meeting, a TS discussion, rarely lasts less than an hour. My next meeting is at 2. I am taking hour-long lunches this summer so that has to fit in there. (Also frankly I am entitled to a 75 minute lunch and I very well might take it.) With this, that, and the other, I might have as much as half an hour to do stuff but it might not even be that. And the 2pm meeting is scheduled to last 2 hours. Will it? Hard to tell. But if it doesn’t I’ll have about 20-25 minutes afterwards before I have to pack up to leave. So, not entirely sure what I’ll do but it can’t be any big project because I won’t be able to get into such a thing.

I felt all right when I got home from work today and I even did some reading, fan fic reading that I...sort of? remember. It feels a little bit like something I dreamed than read but okay. Chipping away at my backlog. But then I became tired so I took a nap and now it’s late and I still need to shower. Aside from the meetings, and just the reality of getting up in the morning and a full work day + commute, I don’t have any other real responsibilities this week so at least there’s that.

#the year 2022 #2022: rl

[athina-blaine]

Martin goes and gets himself stabbed. It's inconvenient.

For @thesmallestzita.

Chapters: 1/1 [Complete]

Words: 1,774

Tags: Whump, Hurt/Comfort, Light Angst, Season 1, Pre-Relationship, Canon-Typical Violence

Martin tripped over a stray soda can and the pain in his side flared. Hissing through his teeth, he pressed his hand deeper over the wound, taking a moment to collect himself, before continuing to shamble down the rain slicked pavement.

He takes some initiative for once, and this is what happens. Typical. The others weren’t going to let him hear the end of this. Especially not Jon.

Martin hoped Jon never found out about this. He’d die of embarrassment, first. Martin was walking a tight rope after the disastrous Rentoul follow up, as it were. There’s no telling what Jon would do if he knew Martin had to go and get himself bloody stabbed, all the while following up a case that had already been closed.

He pulled his mind back to the task at hand; get to hospital. It was more difficult due to the fact that every lone piece of rubbish seemed determined to get under his feet and trip him up. It didn’t help that his legs moved like they were fast filling with lead, heavy and sluggish.

It’s amazing, sometimes, the things you take for granted. Martin walked every day. He was pretty good at it, he thought. But, now, it took everything he had just to put one foot in front of the other.

The pavement swam before his eyes, the neon lights bouncing off rain puddles in a hypnotic display. It made him queasy. He had to lean against a brick wall. Just a short break, to catch his breath. Not for long.

This was harder than he’d thought it would be. His GPS said the hospital had only been a twenty-minute walk, but he feels as if he’d been going and going for hours.

God, he was such a moron. What had he been thinking? Skulking around the site of paranormal nonsense with no backup and no one knowing where he was. He had just wanted to know more about the fate of Carlos Vittery, and, maybe, uncover something that was missed the first time. Something that would impress Jon.

He hadn’t known someone was there. He wouldn’t have gone in if he had known that.

The woman had dark hair, filthy and caked with a thick, flaky secretion and when she had turned, she had … holes, in her face. And the bugs …

So distracted by the silvery worms, he hadn’t had time to react when the woman lunged with a rusty razor, slicing clean through just under his ribs.

“It’s okay,” she had whispered. “You don’t want to be here for what comes next, anyway.”

Flooded with adrenaline, Martin had managed to sprint out of the basement, away from the woman and her burrowing worms without any further harm. It had to have been Jane Prentiss. Nothing else made sense. And nothing good could possibly come out of whatever was coming next.

He grimaced, pressing his hand into his side, slick with blood.

He wasn’t going to make it.

He helplessly slid down the wall. No. No, this was bad. He can’t lie down. If he did, he didn’t think he’d be able to get back up.

Shit. Shit.

First things first, he had to tell someone about Prentiss. Someone had to know that she was planning something.

Pulling out his phone, he struggled to bring up his most recent conversations, fingers smearing blood onto the screen. Sasha. Sasha would know what to do.

He raised the phone to his ear, the streetlights swimming in and out of focus.

“Hello?”

Jon.

Martin’s eyes slid shut. Of course. His last text had been to Jon about the Popham follow up. Jon had said he had already finished recording the case and scolded Martin for being so late with his report. Tim and Sasha had had everything under control, anyway. Find someone else to bother.

He hadn't written that last part. Not out loud, anyway.

Through the phone, there was a familiar, irritated sigh and Martin blinked back to reality.

“I really hope this is important, Martin, I was rather in the middle of something.”

Martin swallowed, torn between, Oh, nothing, sorry to bother you, good night and, I’m dying and I’d never forgive myself if I didn’t tell you I love you so, so much.

The phone trembled in his hand and he gripped it as tightly as he could. If he dropped it, he wouldn’t have the strength to pick it back up again. Was he really going to bleed out here? In this dingy alley, in the middle of the night, in the rain? That would be … really bad …

“For God’s sake, Martin, I don’t have time for this.”

“S-sorry …” Have to tell him. Needs to know. “Jane …”

“Martin?” The bite in his voice fell away. “What’s happening? You sound—”

“Jane Prentiss …”

There was a pause, and then a sudden, violent clattering. “Where are you?”

“Um … I was just … Carlos Vittery …”

“Don’t move, I’m on my way. Stay on the phone. Martin? Martin?”

Ah. Now he’s went and gotten Jon all worked up.

“Sorry … tried to be useful …” He chuckled and it hurt. “Guess I should … know better by now …”

“Martin!”

At least he got to listen to Jon saying his name, like he was really worried about him or something. There were worse ways to go.

The phone slipped from his hand and everything fell away.

 Martin awoke, slowly, first to the sound of a mechanical beeping, and then, hurried footsteps and outraged shouts. The door swung open and his drowsy eyes slid over to the figures that stormed in. His vision was still blurry, and he couldn’t make out their faces, but he recognized one voice.

“—know the policies and if you think you have any right to stop me—”

An unfamiliar woman came in behind him, haggard and face lined with stress.

“Do you know this man, sir?” she said to Martin.

Martin blinked sleepily, eyes moving back to Jon. His hair was wilder and more unkempt than he’d ever seen it.

“Yeah," he said. "He’s my, uh … boss?”

Jon turned to the woman with a victorious smirk, but the woman was already backing out of the room.

“Just press the assist button if he’s bothering you,” she said, closing the door with a sharp click. Jon glared at the door, grumbling irritably under his breath. Martin opened his mouth, but a wave of nausea swept over him and his question was lost in a groan.

Jon snapped towards him, his irritation flipping to stark concern. Taking a deep breath, Martin tried again.

“Where am I?” he asked, faintly. “How did I get here?”

“Whittington Hospital. According to the nurse, a pedestrian saw you and called the paramedics.” Jon took a seat in the spare chair by his bedside, dropping his satchel by his side. His expression could have been cut from steel. “You are incredibly lucky.”

Martin squeezed his eyes closed. He certainly didn’t feel very lucky. Not with Jon looking so upset. He was still wearing the same soft, grey jumper from this morning, which means he had come here straight from the Institute, and for some reason that distressed Martin even more.

“How did you know where I was?”

“Obviously, the Carlos Vittery you mentioned was the same from case #0150409 and I figured you must have been near the Archway area. I’ve been trying all the hospitals nearby asking for a man of your description.”

What little energy Martin had drained out of him, and his head sank into the pillow.

“You didn’t have to do that.”

“Oh, and I suppose you’d rather have me twiddling my thumbs in the archives while you were dying?”

“Sorry ...”

Jon pressed his lips together and he looked to the side. The severity of his expression gentled, and he turned back to Martin, his eyes softening.

“Are you alright?”

Martin’s heart fluttered.

“Well,” he managed. “Not dead. That’s a good start.”

Jon nodded, and then hoisted up his satchel.

“You were in surgery for a while, so I went out and bought some food, considering the stuff in hospital is so abysmal.”

“Oh. That’s … nice of you.” Also, wildly unexpected, but Martin wasn't saying anything. Hospital food was, in fact, not the greatest.

“I wasn’t sure what you liked, so …” Jon dumped a truly outrageous amount of granola bars, yoghurt, and crisps onto the end table. Some spilled over and he quickly reached down to scoop them up. “Yeah.”

A chuckle worked its way through Martin’s chest. It hurt, a little, but the pain was soothed by the sight of Jon juggling Hot Flamin’ Cheetos.

“Slight overkill, don’t you think?”

Jon snapped open a bag of cheese puffs. “Good to know my efforts are appreciated.”

“They are! They are.” With a muffled grunt, Martin reached over and plucked up a bottle of orange juice. “See? Look how appreciative I’m being.”

Jon hummed, flicking a cheesy puffball into his mouth. They both sat in silence, Martin sipping his drink and Jon munching through his crisps.

It must have been the longest time the two of them had ever been alone together. Though they were both quiet, it was a comfortable sort of silence. Just two people existing alongside each other. Reassured by their presence.

Then, Jon took a deep breath.

“I had no idea what to make of your call,” he said, folding the plastic bag into a small square. “I thought you were … You …”

Martin bit his lip, not wanting anything to slip out. Swallowing, Jon lowered his head.

“You had me worried.” Finally, Jon looked back up at him. His mouth was his usual grim, disappointed line, but his eyes shone with dark emotion. “Please don’t do that again.”

Jon had been really upset, hadn't he? Martin didn’t know how to feel about that. Embarrassed, certainly. Guilty, for putting Jon through such an unnecessary ordeal. But also … nice.

He traced the lip of his empty orange juice bottle.

Yeah. He felt nice.

“Well, I don't really fancy dying, so I guess I'll do my best.”

A tiny smile quirked the corner Jon’s lips. Martin had only a moment to savour it, though, as it quickly slipped away as he pulled a pen and paper out of his satchel, and Martin mourned its loss. Jon opened his notebook.

“What happened at Carlos Vittery’s flat? You said you encountered Jane Prentiss, correct?”

Yes. Back to business.

Straightening up, Martin cleared his throat.

“Right. So, something about his case didn’t sit right with me, and I decided to go back and investigate some more. You know, observe my due diligence, and all that …”

#the magnus archives #tma #themagnuspod #jonmartin #jonathan sims #martin blackwood #fanfiction #fic

[silkylious]

Hi dear. I’m the anon who requested an istp reader earlier and i’m so sorry I completely missed the requests closed sign. Congrats on 400 followers!! Your event is so cute and I’m here to request a matchup! I’m a straight 5’7 girl whose personality type is istp. I have long brown hair and brown eyes. I’m a figure skater who loves to read, write and watch anime. I also like to bake whenever I have time. I’m rather analytical, with my strengths lying in math and science and history as my weakest. My writing style is more poetic, consisting of long sentences, metaphors and personophication. I’m blunt and my humor is dry and witty. However, even though I usually can keep a cool head, I get flustered easily (it’s one of the things I hate most lmao). I generally don’t take BS and my style is minimalist. I prefer to stay in by myself rather than go out with large groups of people. If I had an SO, I would much rather stay in and enjoy each other’s presence than go out on elaborate dates. I have a really low social battery too. My music taste is all over the place, but I love Chase Atlantic and Arctic Monkeys. I’m more of a cat person, though I do love dogs, and I like nature and spending time outside. Hopefully that’s enough information! Thank you so much! - 🧩 anon

Thank you so much for sending this in!! <3 I hope you like your matchup! :3

I ship you with...

general relationship dynamic: 

A match made in heaven or hell depending on who you ask

Similar enough to maintain stability, but different enough to keep things unpredictable and fun

Katsuki appreciates your rational nature, as he himself is extremely pragmatic. That common denominator relives the stress of having to deal with problems caused by emotional misunderstandings 

I can definitely see this dynamic as a slowly building friendship at first

Your tendency to not let anyone walk all over you and keep a calm aura about you immediately attracted him, but simultaneously frustrated him to no visible end

The blatant contrast between your personalities instantaneously made him want to break that collected demeanor of yours. 

All in the name of competition. At least it started out that way.

Battle after battle, bruise after bruise and trail after trail, the more hardships you faced together, the more teasing your remarks became.

What started out as him hurling every curse word known to man in hopes of shattering that nonchalant exterior of yours (and you ultimately ignoring him), slowly but surely turned into both of you exchanging well-crafted remarks.

Your sardonic humor was such a good match for him. Both knocked him off his high horse and left him in complete awe (and affection. Though he’d never admit it) of your quick, sarcastic wit all packaged in a light-hearted tone that didn’t wound his ego (too much).

More often than not, you’d fluster the hell out of him. Not that it was hard to get a reaction out of Bakugo Katsuki to begin with.

Your sharp responses just made him want to see you lose your cool even more. He never wallowed in his embarrassment too long, always too eager to grasp the next opportunity to turn the tables on you.

You bet your ass the first time he saw your composure slip, the bastard basked in it. Laughing to his heart’s content while you indignantly screeched at him to shut up.

He’d never forget that moment; and he made damn sure you wouldn’t either, not hesitating to bring it up whenever he wanted to put you in your place or just to get a rise out of you for the hell of it.

And from there it just doesn’t stop. He’s a quick learner and oddly observant, and he uses both those traits to his full advantage when picking on you. His relentless teasing never ceasing to give him the satisfaction of seeing your disheveled composure.

He also loved the gentle crease in your brows and that adorable pout on your lips whenever he verbally pushes you into a corner but that’s beside the point-

Not that it mattered anyway, you had plenty blackmail material of his less than dignified moments to spare.

Your friendship was easy going, trustworthy, reliable. But neither of you could admit your feelings to each other to save your lives. Much to the dismay of your friends, who had to watch the absolute clownery of you tip-toeing around your feelings in muted agony.

Cue perpetual pining.

Once you finally confess your feelings for each other, I honestly don’t see the relationship shifting much.

You act like really, really close friends who just happen to be affectionate and completely enamored by one another

I see Katsuki as a high energy person. Regardless of where he chooses to focus that energy, he needs external stimulus. More often than not, he directs his abundant energy into training and sparring. But generally, a lot of his excess energy is expelled through social interaction. Whether or not this social interaction is mirthful doesn’t really matter so long as he’s depleting his excessive energy.

Your low social battery might pose a small issue, dealing with Katsuki alone is like dealing with a dozen other less intense individuals. But you can easily work around it through your common interests and hobbies that can stimulate you both without depriving you into mental exhaustion

trivia:

Katsuki loves going on outdoor dates with you. A picnic in a secluded park, hiking, stargazing, camping- you name it

These dates are perfect for you two, combining your love for nature and privacy all the while giving him an activity to expel his stamina

Though he can’t say no a good at home date with you.

I absolutely adore the one headcanon about him being an amazing cook but a horrible baker

With a bit of coaxing on your part, you somehow manage to get him into baking. His skills are fucking abysmal.

He’s also distracting

Every time you try to bake together it almost always ends with both of you covered in flour with like three batches of burnt cookie dough, and childlike grins on your faces

Katsuki doesn’t really mind what the two of you do on dates, so long as he’s spending alone time with you, and you wouldn’t have it any other way

He’s a lost cause you figure. But he'll secretly practice at home, to his mother's dismay. But he doesn't care, it's all worth it in the end as he catches sight of pride and admiration in your eyes the one time he baked you a simple treat for your birthday

He made sure to learn your favorite baked goods, if only as a back up plan when he fucked up and needed to worm his way back into your arms

His curiosity was peaked when you’d told him that you’re a figure skater. So much so that one day he asks (read: demands) that you take him to an ice rink

As you show him one of your choreographies, he’s in a state of silent admiration

Katsuki is extremely kinesthetic, so he could easily pick up on the countless hours of hardwork you’d spent mastering your form, perfecting your footing, building up astounding flexibility to be able to preform and make it seem so effortless

The way your muscles pulled taut and relaxed again from stance to stance, the way small bruises lay proud on your skin as an indictive of all the effort you’d put into this sport all but made him fall in love with you again

When you strike a final pose, looking at him expectantly, noiselessly, he doesn’t say anything. But the star-eyed gaze and gentle smile he gave you spoke louder than any of his crude words ever could.

The cherry red in his eyes every so often melted so softly, it set your heart ablaze each and every time

He ended up reluctantly swallowing his pride and asking you to teach him a couple moves that day

You have study dates. All. The time.

He’s a jack of all trades so history is a no brainer for him. When you ask him to help you with it he begrudgingly complies.

Now whether or not his teaching actually helped is up to your imagination lmfao

I think one of Katsuki’s main love languages is quality time; you don’t even have to be actively helping each other while studying, just your presence around him sedates his mind exceptionally

Seconds tick by on his digital clock, each thirtieth tick he discreetly glances at you to make sure you’re still there, if he’s in the mood he’ll have to touch you in some way or another. Doesn’t even have to be affectionate, just your skin on his is enough to spur a content sigh out of him

when you’re simply reading a book or watching an anime together, he’ll lay his head on your lap without a word, or he’ll sit behind you with his arms wrapped tightly around your waist. Give it some time and his roughed-up hands will snake their way into your long hair, making a mess out of it, braiding and unbraiding it as he pleases. Tease him and he’ll instantly move

He loves reading your writing! To him, it’s like you’re inviting him into a corner of your mind. A corner very few get to explore, and he takes pride in that privilege

Can be a bit hesitant to give his full interpretations of your works at first, often just replying with one word “encouragements” but he quickly recognizes your discontent and tries to be a bit more open with his thoughts.

Slowly but surely he lets you into a corner of his mind as well, and you couldn’t be happier in those moments

[bus ride home]

The sun lovingly cast its last embers upon his face, framing and sculpting it with sharp shadows and soft reds into a breathtaking portrait as his matching crimson irises look far away, far beyond the sunset. He’s unfairly handsome. You huffed, forcing yourself to look away from what you could only describe as perfection, lest the last remnants of breath elude your lungs.

With your stare finally detached from him, all your senses started bleeding back into reality. The hum of soft rock buzzing through your plugged earbud caught your attention. Ah, this was one of your favorites. Your mind started painting his visage behind your closed lids, the music only added to the vividness of the dozen or so shades of oranges and yellows. You hummed along; the crescendo was steadily approaching.

“… But I crumble completely when you cry…”

The gentle tenor in your voice lulled Katsuki away from his muddled thoughts, instead focusing on your serenity. You’d always being good at keeping your cool, but this was different. With a tiny tug at your lips as they moved with each delicate syllable, you looked truly in your element. Angelic in a sense as the warm rays of dusk embraced you. He couldn’t look away from what he could only describe as perfection. His flushed ears barely picked up on the porcelain notes leaking from the unplugged earbud before his tongue started imitating your own.

“… In my imagination you’re waiting, lying on your side, with your hands between your thighs and a smile.”

One brown eye blinked open, surprised at the gruff bass joining your little jamming session. Katsuki snatched the unused earpiece and put in his own.

“Weren’t you the one that said my music taste is trash?” You raised an eyebrow.

“It is trash.” The glimmer in his gaze told you otherwise. You scoffed and looked away, attempting to hide the smile pulling on your lips.

The next song started playing.

<3

#matchmaker silky #🧩 anon #bnha matchup #mha matchup #505 is the best am song dont @ me

[surveys-at-your-service]

Survey #293

“your head upon a stick would look really sick, but they would call me crazy for the way i spoke to it”

Hey bitch, what's your fucking name? What a start, jc lmao. Brittany. What color are your nails? They're not painted. Last time you got some ass? Well this survey's gonna be a journey. Many years ago. Do your parents like your style/music choices? Yeah, at least most of it. Some music my mom really doesn't like or just hates, while I can't even imagine Dad's reaction to some bands I enjoy. Ever seen your parents make out? tbh would rather slam my ankle on a Razor scooter. What's your dream height and weight? Forget about my height, if I could just be at least 120 again... Do you put your hair up a lot or down? It's too short to put up. Most of the time do you straighten or curl your hair? Neither. What do you do when your house loses power? Light a bunch of candles and carry flashlights. What piercing do you hate? I'm not a fan of cheek piercings. Were you raised in a religious house? Yes. I grew up going to Sunday school and church, even though I hated both. Do your parents get mad when you're on the computer for hours? Gah... it was a very, very big source of argumentative fuel between Mom and me all the way up to my late teenage years when she just gave up; now, it's to be expected and is completely "normal." I always wanted to be on the computer once I was introduced to it; she tried to limit my time on it, and it was without fail what she would take away whenever I was grounded. I'd even sneak onto it when I wasn't allowed to if she wasn't home and Dad was in their room. My mom really did try to keep me from being hooked on technology, she really did, it just didn't work, but dear god I wish it did. I just about turn into a caveman without some form of it, and it's pretty pathetic. Dad meanwhile has never really cared much, but he'd make a comment here and there that would make me self-conscious about it. Have you ever been asked for a nude picture? No, and guess who would be ignored for the rest of their lives if they did. It's so fucking disrespectful and objectifying to me. If someone wants to send a partner something like that by their own volition, that's cool, but asking, that just seems incredibly rude to me and turns the person into an object of lust. Ever been so scared you pissed? Caaan't say I have. Can you watch scary movies at night and not be scared? Yeah, they've never really fazed me. Last reason you got your cell taken away? I actually don't know if that's ever happened, given the aforementioned computer thing. I was never hooked on my phone. Could you handle working on a farm? Nooooo, that is way too much physical exertion. Have you ever been attacked by an animal? No. Have you ever had to put an animal to sleep? ugh Do you have a favorite type of firework? Well, visually I really just like the big colorful ones, but I don't endorse the use of fireworks anymore. Some animals literally die from fear, they can be seriously upsetting to veterans with PTSD (you could have one in your neighborhood and never know you indirectly gave them a panic attack), and they're a large source of litter. Where would/did you get your first tattoo? My right wrist. What's your favorite kind of pet? Snakes. Favorite dinosaur? Spinosaurus is obviously the coolest. It's always been my fave. How many pets do you have? Sigh, just two. Our landlord doesn't want us to get anymore pets than what we came in with. What were two of your favorite Disney movies as child? The Lion King and Finding Nemo. They're still my favorite Disney movies. When carving pumpkins, how do you decide what you're going to do? I haven't carved a pumpkin in years... so idk. Do you own any art supplies? Some, yeah. Do you believe you have a higher IQ than most? Definitely not. What is the name of the doctor that delivered you? I have no clue. Mom knows him for sure because she's mentioned him from my childhood, but I don't. Have you ever seen a Lamborghini in person? Hunny, I live in rural North Carolina. You don't see that level of bougie here lmao. Shane Dawson: funny or annoying? I honestly think he's fucking hilarious. I just have such conflicting feelings about him after "the drama," hearing so many people's opinions (particularly from those who know him so well, like his fiance and Ryland's sister), fact checking, audio cutting and mixing, the whole "people change" philosophy... I don't know. When you have a container of Neapolitan ice cream, what flavor do you leave for last? I ain't touchin' strawberry. Gross. If you could choose to have any superpower ever, what would you pick? I'd wanna be a shapeshifter/druid. What would you be more embarrassed to buy: sex toys or adult diapers? Yikes, sex toys. Given my age, I'd say if I bought adult diapers, people would assume they weren't for me. I'm awkward enough with all things relating to sex to begin with, so. What’s the biggest animal you’ve ever killed? Yo wtf I never have and never will (intentionally) kill an animal. Well, correction: I've killed bugs before, the biggest probably being some spider or something, but I really try to avoid this now. Could you win the Hunger Games? lol hell to the fuck no, have you seen me??? For you, would getting amnesia be a good thing? ... Maybe? Not saying I wanna find out, though. Have you ever been punched in the face? No, plan on keeping it that way. Is morality universal or relative? I question this myself. Who is your favorite late night talk show host? I don't have one. Where do you put your keys when you get home? They stay in my purse. Do you prefer hot coffee or iced coffee? Neither. The sheer variety of questions relating to coffee and tea in surveys boggles my mind, always feel left out that I can't answer 'em lmao. What’s your phone background picture? My lock screen is this pretty, soft aesthetic screen that has "i am strong, i am loved, i am enough" written in the center. I've really needed it for my mental health lately. My home screen is some meerkats. I know, can you believe neither are currently Mark? Have you ever seen a snake in the wild? Plenty. How do you cope with anxiety? Deep breathing, mindfulness and grounding exercises, confiding in my mom, listening to music (usually my favorite calm, instrumental soundtracks, like from the Silent Hill franchise - particularly the second game! - or Shadow of the Colossus), try to nap, play a game as a distraction, watch my favorite YouTubers (typically something funny)... I'm lucky to have learned a lot. Now, if only I could cope with social anxiety... What was the last takeout food you ate? Oh Jesus, how embarrassing is this timing, seeing as it was one of my unhealthiest fast food orders: Son of the Baconator and Baconator fries from Wendy's. It was so fuckin good tho. Who makes you laugh the most? My friend Girt. What does a successful relationship look like to you? One with great communication and total honesty, and when you are able to build each other up and bring out the best in your partner. It's also imperative for you to feel safe being your authetic safe for me to consider it "successful." What do you like to put on your baked potato? "Salt, pepper, butter, cheese, bacon bits." <<<< That's how we do it, lads. What was the most memorable birthday you’ve had? My 16th, but not for good reasons. Would you rather go to the beach or the mountains? That's easy as hell, mountains. I don't like the beach. Do you look in the mirror before you leave the house? Yeah. Not gonna like what I see no matter what, but I'd like to make sure I don't look worse whan what's normal. Have you ever seen someone quit their job in a dramatic way? No. What do you like to dip your fries in? It varies between ketchup and honey mustard. What’s your favorite kind of museum? Science. Do you believe in alternate universes? Nah, I don't think so. Whose house did you last visit? My older sister's. What games do you play on your smart phone? Mostly just Pokemon GO nowadays. I haven't touched Dragons of Atlantis in a long time... Do you know anyone who is colorblind? Jason's older brother is red/green colorblind, I think? Are you the youngest, middle or eldest child in your family? Middle. What’s something you’ve been meaning to do but keep putting off? Ugh, I need to finish decorating my damn room... Got most of the stuff on the walls now, but it's still pretty skeletal in self expression. My motivation is abysmal. Have you ever flown a kite? Oh yeah, I loved to fly a kite with Dad as a little kid when the tobacco field just across the road was barren. Who was the last person you talked about sex/relationships with? My doctor. How many brothers does your father have? I'm almost certain he doesn't have one, just one sister. Do you think you act older or younger than your actual age? It depends on the situation. When it comes to "adulting," I don't have a fuckin clue what I'm doing. I doubt anyone would believe I'm a month shy of 25. In terms of general maturity, I think I act my age, if not older. When was the last time you swam in a pool? It's been years. What are your parents' views on your relationships? Mom is always very supportive so long as they treat me right; she's taken to all my previous partners very well and treated them like family, too. My dad is also supportive as long as I'm treated properly and happy. Is your best friend dating anyone? No. Have you ever babysat before? Twice, but not really willingly. Way too stressful. Do you delete pictures of you and your exes off of Facebook? It took a very, very long time, but all pictures with Jason are forever deleted. Ever had a huge crush on someone who still doesn’t know? Not a huge crush, no. Ever watched porn? No. You do you, but I don't see the appeal of watching some random people fuck. Ever performed in a talent show? No. Would you audition for a reality talent competition? Nope. How many celebrity crushes have you had? I'd say Jesse McCartney, Link Neal, and Mark Fischbach are my only BIG celeb crushes I've had. How many non-celebrity crushes have you had? I dunno, don't feel like reaching back and counting. Ever been compared to a celebrity? Not visually, but with my adoration of animals. Have any embarrassing pictures on Facebook? Oh, I'm sure. None that are horribly embarrassing though, or else I would have deleted them. Ever seen a therapist? I've regularly seen a therapist since the 6th grade. Ever purposely ignored a text? Yep. A Facebook message? Sure have, when I was beyond done arguing with a former friend. A friend request? No, I just decline or accept it. My page is private, so you can't see my activity, and it's not like they get notified if it's declined, Would you say you read into things too much? I am the fucking sovereign of this. If you turned out exactly like your mom would you be pleased? I love my mom to death, but no. I'd be disappointed. Ever had a credit card denied? I've never had one in the first place. Ever had the lead in a play? No. I do remember though in elementary school, I was real bummed that I wasn't Snow White for one we did for Music class. What about a solo in a concert? Never been in a concert. Would it bother you if you found out that your mother was pregnant? Well. One, she's long past menopause. Two, because of ovarian cancer, she had all those organs removed. So, that would be impossible. Have you ever had a threesome? No; I'm personally strictly monogamous and would feel it to be disloyal, even if my parnter was okay with it. What's the last game you used dice for? Not a clue. Are you interested in surfing at all? Have you ever been? No. What brand of bottled water do you prefer? Essentia. What is your favorite type of bird? Barn owls. What is your favorite chocolate candy? motherfuckin REESE'S Have you ever been called a racial slur? No, considering I'm Caucasian. Why did you last stand in line? I was at the doctor's office, I think? What is your favorite pirate movie? /shrug What is your favorite character from Orange Is the New Black? I've never watched it. What was the most unsettling film you’ve seen? Watching the ending to Paranormal Entity was VERY uncomfortable. It was a decently scary movie, but the ending was seriously intense. When was the last time you were snooping, and found something you wish you hadn’t? I don't recall. Which celebrity or band has the worst fan base? I don't know. What are you interested in that most people aren’t? The sheer degree of my love for meerkats would definitely be missed by probably most people. What smartphone feature would you actually be excited for a company to implement? I dunno. Anything I could think of, the most current products probably already have and I'm just uninformed of them. Like, I use a Tracfone lmao. What’s something people don’t worry about but really should? Their plastic usage and disposal. I'm certainly no saint when it comes to plastic either, but I try to do all I can. What movie quotes do you use on a regular basis? Hm, ARE there any? Do you think that children born today will have better or worse lives than their parents? This depends on what you consider "better" and "worse." Environmentally, I honestly don't think mankind can maintain itself for that many more generations at the rate we're currently at, so that's probably just gonna keep getting worse. On the other hand, advances in medicine and things like that will certainly continue to improve quality of life in that sense. Human rights are getting better and better. I do fear that we're becoming too comfortable with laziness and convenience, but I hope that's a decline we don't continue to venture down. What’s the funniest actual name you’ve heard of someone having? I had a college classmate named Apple. Which charity or charitable cause is most deserving of money? Oh, come on now. It's not a competition. What game have you spent the most hours playing? So. When you type /played in World of Warcraft, it will show you your total playtime, and mine is YIKES. Like, around a year's worth of time of pure playing since 2014, I think. What’s the most comfortable bed or chair you’ve ever been in? I don't recall. What’s the hardest you’ve ever worked? When I did WiiFit religiously and lost around 40 pounds in HS. I was in the best shape of my life. What movie, picture, or video always makes you laugh no matter how often you watch it? Oh, there's certainly something. Probably some Unus Annus clip. That channel was a fucking blessing and a curse all the same. If you could have an all-expenses paid trip to see any famous world monument, which monument would you choose? Oh boy, I'd have to think, but probably somewhere in Rome or Greece. What’s the coldest you’ve ever been? I'm unsure. Probably jumping in the pool as a kid. My sisters and I would nag Dad to put the pool up on like the very first day of spring, so of course it was cold, but as a kid, I didn't mind that. What’s the most ridiculous thing you have bought? Hm. What’s the most depressing meal you’ve eaten? Ha ha yiiiikes, struggle foods... I don't know, but I've had some. What outdoor activity haven’t you tried, but would like to? Herping, though I change my mind on-and-off about it. I'm not very into the idea of disturbing wildlife just because they're cool and you wanna check them out. I'd totally go exploring with a camera, though, and not actually pick anything up. If you were given five million dollars to open a small museum, what kind of museum would you create? Hm... I actually think something like an art museum for the mentally ill would be pretty interesting and educational? Even something that could build empathy. Maybe mix some psychology in there to understand conditions.

#survey #surveys #questions #questionnaire #lyrics: ''apex predator'' by otep

[lovelyfeh]

hi lovely!! i’m so sorry about the wait on this one, but you were one of the first requests I needed to do!! This prompt is so cute Ashe my l o v e ❤️ this turned out absolutely abysmal! I’m so sorry and will happily rewrite this if you don’t like it, but it’s horrendous :(

┈┈┈┈┈┈┈୨♡୧┈┈┈┈┈┈┈

“Look look! There he is S/O!”

You sighed, watching Ashe enter the library from the second floor with tired eyes. You could hear the giggles of Hilda and Lysithea from behind you as he notices you right away, waving cheerfully as he always did. You halfheartedetly waved back and averted your eyes. Why did he have to make this whole ‘ignore the source of your problems’ thing so difficult?

Hilda and Lysithea both peeled over your shoulders, watching Ashe as he looked through the book for a new novel to read. “My my S/O! Good choice! I never noticed before how cute of a boy Ashe is...!” Your eye twitched in irritation at her crude remark. “Hilda,” you groaned, “ you’ve been teasing me over this crush for a month now. Are you ever just going to leave me be?”

“Nope!” Lysithea chimed in, patting your head sympathetically as Hilda continued her teasing. “Trust me S/O, we only do this out of love. If we don’t push you to eventually confess to him then who will? You have to tell him someday!” Lysithea nodded along to Hilda’s words. You let out an annoyed huff, burying your face in a book without looking at either of them. “No. I don’t. He never needs to know about my feelings towards him! And you two pushing me to do it makes me want to do it less!”

“Didn’t you say you had one planned?” Lysitha asked, staring straight at the paper wedged between two pages of your book. Your cheeks reddened, and you quickly yanked the letter out and stuffed it into your pocket. “No. And I do not need you two here. I need to study for this quiz. If I don’t pass professeor Byleth will have my head!”

You could practically see Hilda’s eye roll, but they thankfully took the hint. “Fine fine! Don’t take our advice! We’re outta here!” She grabbed Lysithea and started dragging her down the stairs, “and don’t come to us if you need help with your confession! We won’t help!”

Thank goodness, you thought to yourself. You quickly distracted yourself from the two girls’ words by burying your face in a book, trying to push any thoughts of Ashe out of your mind. He had been hindering your studies as of late, running through your brain day and night. Byleth has already expressed their worry as your professor, so you needed to work extra hard not to think about Ashe!

“S/O! Hey! Are you studying right now?”

You jumped out of your skin at the sound of that familiar voice. Oh, just what I needed! Ashe smiled at you, sitting down next to you with a new book and tea from the cafeteria. “Ah, yes. I’m studying some magic for tomorrow’s exam... are you also studying?” You gazed at the fairy tail he had picked up, but quickly re-met his eyes with flushed cheeks. “Ah, not particularly,” he smiled sheepishly at you, “just needed something to read! You don’t mind if I join you though? I won’t bother you, promise!”

You had to quickly quiet your panicking thoughts. Sitting next to Ashe? Your crush? The boy you were supposed to avoid so you could focus? This was a bad idea. You needed to be mature and give him an answer you wouldn’t regret!

“Of course, no problem.”

Or not.

“Thanks S/O!” He smiled, before turning his attention to his book. “Of course, what are friends for...” you bit your tongue, looking down at the words in your tome but not actually processing them. You found your gaze returning to Ashe almost every second, which made it a bit difficult to do anything related to school.

This went on for several minutes. You watched Ashe do the most minuscule things, such as turning the page or sipping on his tea. It was starting to frustrate you considering this test was important, and you’d never pass with such an obvious distraction next to you.

With a huff, you slammed your book closed and stomped off. You could feel Ashe’s eyes on you as you left, his concern and confusion following you out the door. You needed space. You couldn’t think about giving him your stupid confession letter or if he actually liked you at all! You needed to think about school and school only!

“S/O! S/O! Where are you going?”

And there that voice was again! Did he have to follow you around so much?!

You turned to meet Ashe, an irritated look on your face. It was unfair of you to be mad at him, but you didn’t want to accept that it was your own fault that you couldn’t study. “Listen here Ashe! You’re distracting me, so leave me alone!” You stuck your finger in his face before he could say anything and scowled. “B-But I didn’t do anything! You just stopped out of the library! Did I say something earlier in class?!”

“No! You didn’t! But-”

“Perhaps I spilled tea on your book without realizing it? I’m so sorry S/O!”

“Ashe!-”

“Maybe it was the tea! Did the scent bother you?”

“Ashe! It’s because I love you! You’re distracting me because I love you!”

Time stopped. You didn’t realize you had said it until moments after. You immediately froze in place, staring straight ahead and not daring to look at Ashe. “What?” His voice had gone quiet, and you screamed internally. What had you done?!

“I-I..I just-I mean-I-I,” you could barely get any words out, fidgeting with your hands and averting your eyes from his gaze. “Did you just say you love me S/O?”

This was it. Your life was over. Might as well make it count.

With shaking hands you handed him the crumpled up love letter from earlier, trying to cool your burning face. You stared at the ground as he read it, not daring to peek. He probably didn’t even want to look at you!

“I-I’ve been... I’ve had a crush on you for a long time! And I really never planned on telling you! But I accidentally... well, you know. I’m sorry. But I really do love you! Your eyes and face and personality and everything about you! You probably don’t feel the same, and that’s ok..! I just... I guess since you already know nows a good time as ever to spill all of this to you...”

There was a long stretch of silence, and you looked up at Ashe for just a moment to see how pink he’d gotten. You stared in disbelief as he tried to muster up his own words, but failed. He stammered and stuttered, eventually covering his mouth as his face just continued to grow redder by the second. You looked at him in a trance, before snapping out of it and looking down. “I’m guessing that’s a no then? Ah. Of course. I’ll see myself...”

You started to walk away, but a gentle hand grabbed yours and stopped you. You turned back to Ashe, who looked on the verge of passing out, but stayed as he finally managed to spit out words. “S/O, why wouldn’t I like you back? You’re a wonderful girl who I’d love to go out with!” You blinked I’m disbelief, turning to him with wide eyes and an equally as red face. “You don’t mean that. You’re joking.”

“Of course I’m not joking! Why would I?”

Your mouth went agape, and you both stared at each other for what felt like an eternity before he broke the silence. “S/O?” You nodded, a small smile spreading across your face as reality set it. He was your boyfriend now. Ashe. “Yes, Ashe?” He let out a nervous chuckle, pulling you a bit closer to rest against his chest. “Y-You wouldn’t mind joining me for tea now, would you?” You giggled.

“Not at all, my love. Lets go!”

#fire emblem imagines #fire emblem x reader #ashe x reader #mod cordelias book of imagines #hope you enjoyed!!

[katebushh]

i think what a lot of people dont seem to realise (and i dont mean this condescendingly i’m still coming to terms with it myself) is that being alone with yourself is not usually pleasant, but its valuable.

you need to learn how to practice self-reflection, which doesnt descend into self-loathing. you need to learn what makes you truly content, not just distracted. you need to learn to work through low/depressed moods, and not become consumed by it. you need to understand that loneliness and isolation will always affect your life, without allowing yourself to drown in it. its about regulation, moderation, and finding the strength to overcome these reoccuring, but temporary, frustrations in life. and it all stems from confronting the absolutely abysmal reality that you are alone in your thoughts, i’m afraid.

i personally have had whole years where these emotions have nigh destroyed me, so believe me when i say i’m not suggesting you’re weak for not learning to cope in these situations, you’re fucking strong for surviving them. that doesn’t mean you should just accept that surviving is the best you can acheive, living and then thriving are the next steps, and i think you can manage it. good luck in 2020 ☺️

#sinkhole #coping #depression

[insomniacsleepwalker]

Normal (Part 1)- An Ed Sheeran Fanfiction

Before

The day starts off differently than usual. For starters, there is a sense of un-reality to it, as though it has been a dream for too long for it to be real, so waking up and proceeding with a morning routine like any other day feels like I am lying about something. I never did plan out the details of what I would do on the morning of. I suppose I never saw the point of over planning given that at that point, it was simply wishful thinking. But alas, here I am, making coffee for myself on the morning of setting out on tour. My movements are also quite hurried as I go through my morning like I would with any other, even though I am not running late, nor am I doing anything out of the ordinary so far, there is a jump in my step and a fidget to my excitement that I can only chalk away as the staple mixture of excitement and nervousnes.

There is a text from him waiting on my phone when I go to pick it up to go through it as I sip my morning coffee.

Ed Fucking Sheeran: Hope you’re all set for tour! Drinks on me after tonight’s show!

I can’t help but smile as I text back: Yep all set! Looking forward to it!

There are other messages and emails, mostly pertaining to admin things such as setting up skype meetings with other clients and some agents reaching out with debut pieces. I have to put my phone down for a moment as I lean back, close my eyes, take deep breaths and remind myself that I still have a job to do and that part of the deal with Clara was to manage my other projects along with this one and under no circumstances am I to forget that. The thought does clench at my appetite rendering to nothing more than a bowl of fruit. Knowing my response to the thought of added responsibility, and so to keep myself sane I pretend that it is any other day.

The pretending does get a tad bit more difficult when I have to wheel my suitcase out of my flat, double check the locks and walk into the office all set for travel with my colleagues eyeing me with looks of either envy or curiousity or in a few cases like I am a zoo animal of sorts. I get it. It is a big deal and nobody was expecting me to get the project, including myself, and given the circumstances (some might say the cost, while others would call it perks), of getting a big client is not met with the usual response of celebration. There is one pair of dark eyes which exude nothing but pride, and ones that approach me as I wheel the giant suitcase into my office.

“Today’s the day, then?” Jemimah, or as she likes to be called, Jed, squeaks excitedly as she follows me in.

“Yep, from the looks of it you would think that I was going on a year long holiday to Cancun.” I say.

I take a seat behind my desk and Jed follows, opting to lean her weight on the desk instead of sitting down.

“Don’t mind them,” She says, “They’re just jealous.”

“Should I tell them that I still have to manage all the our other authors at the same time?”

“It might help.” She concedes.

“Christ, I’m bricking myself.” I say, putting my elbows on the desk, “It’s the biggest risk I’ve ever taken.”

“Didn’t you quit being a doctor?” She asks.

I consider this for a moment.

“Nope, this is definitely scarier.”

She laughs and comes up behind me to give me a tight hug. I reciprocate by holding on to her forearm.

“You will be fine.” She says, “Storytelling is in your bones and I have seen you take the most abysmal plots and the sloppiest writing and turn them into best sellers! This guy actually writes for a living!”

“Songs.” I mumble.

“He tells his stories,” she continues, “and he does it well and I am sure that you both will be able to create a masterpiece with his words and your eye for structure. Plus, it’s Ed Sheeran. He could spit on a napkin and that would sell. You don’t have to worry about it.”

“I’m not worried about the selling,” I say, breaking away from the hug, “I’m a fiction editor. This is super non-fiction. I am way out of my depth.”

“You have me and a team of other editors a phone call away!”

I throw her a look.

“You have me!” She says after a moment, eliciting a laugh out of me.

“Everything will work out great,” she continues, “you’re going to become a celebrity editor, Clara will promote you, maybe give you your own imprint! You’ll introduce me to your famous friends, we’ll get married and have kids and everything is going to be great!”

I laugh again and we continue to talk about our respective clients and different storylines that we have to balance to make sure that one does not accidently leak into another. Jed is one of the most talented Non-fiction editors out there, and the fact that I have her in my corner gives me some relief. It has occurred to me that perhaps she would be better suited to the project and given that she has no prior connection to Ed, she wouldn’t be getting served as dirty the looks as I am.

“Don’t you have Tom coming in today?” She asks out of nowhere, possibly trying to distract me from my own mind.

“Oh yes!” I say, accepting the distraction as a welcome one, “We have to discuss his recent pages.”

“You don’t like them?”

“He doesn’t.”

“Ah.” She has a knowing look, which I can recognise from a mile away.

“What?” I ask.

“Nothing,” she shrugs, “Just a really hot author is looking for an excuse to hang out with you, but other than that...”

I roll my eyes.

“I don’t-“ I begin to groan.

“Sleep with clients!” She cuts me off, “I’m painfully aware, but he isn’t going to be a client when you’re done editing!”

I look at her with a raised eyebrow and she groans in frustration, beginning to make her way out of my office. She reaches the door and pauses suddenly.

“You do find him hot, though, right?”

“Oh definitely.” I answer, quite honestly.

She smiles and raises her eyebrows at me before skipping away. I giggle at her childishness, but can’t help but wonder whether what she is insinuating is true or not. As attractive and flirtatious as Tom is, he doesn’t strike me as the kind who sleeps with a colleague. Not that it matters, since I have no time. It might be a good distraction though.

My phone buzzes again. Another text from Ed:

Ed Fucking Sheeran: Cold Feet?

I furrow my brows.

Me: Who told you?

Ed Fucking Sheeran: You’ve been quiet for a while. Would’ve had about thirty different texts from you by now if you weren’t nervous.

I sigh.

Ed Fucking Sheeran: Wot’s there to be nervous about?!

Me: I’ve been getting dirty looks all morning. And what did we say about spelling?

Ed Fucking Sheeran: Fuck ‘em.

Ed Fucking Sheeran: Sorry, fornicate them.

I giggle again and let myself feel a little more relaxed. This will be good, I tell myself. A new beginning out of my comfort zone and even if it isn’t good, at least I’ll still have Ed.

#ed sheeran fanfiction. #Ed sheeran imagine #Ed sheeran fluff #fluff #Ed Sheeran #Smut #Imagine #fic #Normal #Part 1 #Ed #Sheeran

[myheroaizawashota]

“Aizawa handling seeing Mic for the first time since being revealed as the U.A traitor.”

[Ive been thinking about writing something like this for a while now, but after seeing these two (http://vm.tiktok.com/dNCBgb/) bring this idea to life i couldn’t help but sit myself down, cry for a minute, and then FINALLY write it. I know this is a bit different than we’re used to on this blog, but bare with me here. This is an Aizawa x Traitor!Mic one shot, so sorry to disappoint those of you who don’t ship it or don’t believe in Traitor Mic ooooor are only here for my teacher trio x reader content! I promise you that content will be continued after this!]

[PS to Lizzie and Jordyn: I am SO SORRY that this has taken substantially long :) fun fact I’ve restarted this fiction uh about 4 times, because I couldn’t solidly figure out how to open the fiction. I didn’t forget about it, nor was I promising you false dreams here haha I’m just absolute booty when it comes to openers. Hope you enjoy.]

[photo credit to the amazing artist @ask-hizashi-and-shouta]

A flash of dulling lumincent light crawled out from the underside of the local night market’s weathered canopy, it’s haze contouring along the right side of the clinical erasure pro’s face as his feet seemed to aimlessly carry him back towards the solitary isolation of his haunted home. These days the underground hero blew through the streets in a desperate attempt to avoid the memories that tainted the walls of his living space. He could remember a time when being in the comfort of his own company was the envy of his dreams, but now he did just about anything he could to avoid being alone with his own thoughts. The down pours of tonight’s abysmal sky hardly phases the man as heaven’s tears began to soak through the bangs of Shouta’s rich raven hair. After the week he’d had a few droplets of moisture condensed from the atmosphere did little to cause a reaction from him. If he was being entirely honest he couldn’t feel a damn thing, both emotionally and physically. His body had began to grow numb to the world around him as his mind shifted to disconnect from the unwanted reality he had been presented.

As thunder crackled through the ghostly alley of the eerily quiet market the hero began to show a slight urgency in his pacing. While he wasn’t afraid of the sound, he knew logically being caught in a storm like this wouldn’t be a genuinely smart thing. Moving with slightly more purpose, the man couldn’t help but grow distracted as his eyes caught the top headline of the news stand just in the edge of his view, “Present Mic: The Famed U.A Traitor Still At Large, Authorities Have No Leads.”

Clenching his jaw he turned his head away from the article, constricting his fingers around the thick plastic handle of the bag he carried, the sudden force causing the top of his knuckles to fade white. He knew it was irrational to care and hurt the way he did, but that didn’t stop his emotions from betraying his mind. Pushing past the feelings the clawed to free themselves from both his tired eyes and heavy chest, Aizawa finally arrived home. Haphazardly he dropped the bag right where he stood just inches inside his front door, he not caring about the safety of his items. It was just pantry goods anyway, things he kept for when...company came. Christ, he didn’t even know why he still was continuing to buy these crap snacks, something in him just compelled him to grab them. It wasn’t like they’d be eaten. Factually Shouta never cared for sweets, so the likelyhood they’d be consumed by him was slim. Drenched and dripping, he uncomfortably made his way through the house heading for his bedroom. Not making it more than two footsteps, an unease began to grow inside the typically steady pro. With the sound of a faint thud coming from the room he’d been inbound too, his hands constricted around the damp scarf that clung to his neck, he approaching with caution. Great, a break in was the last thing he needed right now. With the same stealth and swiftness he was known for in his work, he deployed his weapon, the fabric of it tightening as it made contact with a body. “You must either be really stupid or have a death wish to intrude her-“ he couldn’t help but pause as shock rushed his body. Stood in front of him were a set of painfully fimiliar green eyes and a smile that killed him to see. While his apprerance had been altered drastically, the long blonde locks the other sported now dyed and chopped, he was still recognizable to the Eraser hero. Uncontrollably his lip began to quiver, teeth digging into his tongue as he pressed it roughly to the inside of his cheek. Releasing the weapons hold, he turned his back to the fimiliar stranger, aggressively rubbing his eyes with the backs of his hands. “You’re an idiot. Why are you here?”

“I had no where else to go...” came the response. It was quiet and almost defeated, and while sensibly Aizawa knew he shouldn’t have cared....he did.

Not responding to the traitor behind him, his body instinctively began to close off to the other. His arms moved to cross over his chest as he stood distanced both spiritually and physically. It was a subtitle change in the mans body language, but Hizashi could see it. After sixteen years with the stoic man he’d finally began to pick up on the minute tells the other let off on the rare occasions he let himself display his emotions. While it wasn’t something most people would take notice too, Hizashi did. It was evident to him the man was hurt. “Come on, don’t do this. Please just talk to me...” The tone of the once admired voice hero sounded nearly as broken as his counter part felt.

As if some nerve had been struck inside the shorter of the two men, Shoutas body spun to face Hizashi his fist wrapping around the fabric of his shirt. What nerve did the other have to think he could just break in and act like nothing even happened. “Don’t....don’t you walk back into my life and pretend like this is okay. It’s not okay! None of this, is okay.”

The former blonde was taken back by the harsh emotion filled outburst his ex lover, ex friend, and ex confidant had displayed. For Shouta to express himself like this, it must of been bad. “Just...calm down...listen to me alright? I never meant to hurt you.”

An audiable laugh came from the typically reclused ravenette. “As if you’ve been truthful with me up until this point. I trusted you....I let you in when I should have kept you at an arms length like I do everyone else. Tell me exactly why I should believe a single thing you say to me. Out of the sixteen years I’ve spent with you how much of it was lies.” He hissed hand moving to press the others body harshly into the wall “out of sixteen years, how long have you been pretending to be my friend, to care about me!”

“I never pretended....I’ve always cared about you Shouta. Everything I’ve ever said to you about how I feel has been one hundred percent! Everything I have ever done has been to protect you alright!” Tears began to form in Hizashi’s eyes as his hand moved to rest against his friends, he working to loosen the other’s grip. “I don’t care if you wanna believe me or not okay? That’s your burden to carry, but I know that every time I ever looked you in the eyes and told you how much I loved you, alright that was real! Every time I ever smiled or laughed, or told you that you meant the world to me, that was real! I didn’t take this traitor gig to hurt you alright, I did it to protect you!”

“Protect me, oh that’s laughable!” Shouta let his hands drop the others body, the tears he’d been fighting back for a week now starting to bubble to the surface as his finger tips moved to trace over the scar under his eye “this? This was protecting me? Do you have any idea how idiotic and illogical you sound right now!”

Hizashi turned his gaze away from the others face, it riddled him with guilt to look at the thick scar the other wore. “I was promised you weren’t going to get hurt....you’re not the only one who was lied too....” gently rubbing his hands over his face, the no longer boisterous voice hero gave a groan. “They only wanted All Might. I was just suppose to tell them where and when to find him. Information in exchange for yours and the kids safety. That’s all it was suppose to be. I wasn’t banking on All Might powering down before the trip even started, okay? How was I suppose to know the guy was gonna be a no show and they’d go after you and the kids Shouta!”

“Because they are villains Hizashi! They were villains and you just bent right into their will! What did they have on you that was so incriminating that you would trust them you idiotic loud mouthed -“

“You! They had you...” hizashis voice was abrupt, a small crack to its tone as he spoke. Casting his eyes to the floor his lips twitched from side to side, as he tugged at his collar. “Call me idiotic or irrational or whatever else you’d say typically say to me....but these guys aren’t the local band, they’re the headliners in this rock show and they are some seriously terrifying cats!”

Shouta couldn’t stand to listen to the other any longer, his fist clenching at his side. Even if there was a truth to anything the former pro had to say, it infuriated Aizawa that the other thought this was a battle he needed to fight alone. Knowing if he stayed in the same room any longer with the painfully recognizable face in front of him, he was bound to make a move he’d immediately regret. Turning his back, he clenched his jaw exited the room. Against his better judgment, the irrationality of his emotions kicked in. He could feel his eyes sting with aggravation and sorrow, his chest weighted and tight. “You can stay for tonight. So help me, you better be gone come morning Hizashi, or else.”

With no more left to say to the other, Shouta blew his way from the bedroom slamming the door behind him. The moment he was out of view of the other, the tears aggressively poured from his eyes, all the hurt, all the anger, everything he’d been feeling for a week finally coming to a boil. He knew it was ludicrous to let the other stay here, and he knew he’d come to regret that choice at a later time, but what was he suppose to do. He still loved that idiot. Traitor or not, you can’t erase sixteen years of memories, no matter how badly he wished he could. Desperate to put this day to rest, Shouta threw the emotionally drained husk that was his body aggressively to his couch. Forcing his eyes shut he tried to forget the aching pain in his chest, the feeling making his body feel anxious and heavy. He could feel the overwhelming rush of emotions as he bit his tongue fighting back more tears. He refused to cry, it was unreasonable to shed tears for someone who could care less about him. With his face buried into the back of the couch, the typically stoic and impassive man finally fell to sleep.

When morning came, the overly tired and uncharacteristically emotional hero gave a groan. Sleeping on the couch may have been the biggest mistake of his life. While it was comfortable for sitting, hed forgotten how uncomfortable it was to sleep on. Retrospectively it was hitting him that he should have kicked his former lover onto the couch instead but, he guessed that’s what happens when you let your judgements cloud with emotions. Dreading the walk towards the bedroom, his heart rate escalated as he touched his hand to the door. Some masochistically dejected part of him almost hoped the other was still behind the door despite his warnings last night. He knew it would just bring him more pain and anguish to see him, but he couldn’t help it. The pain was better then going back to the feeling if nothing. Slowly letting his hand pry the door open, his heart sank to find an empty room, the window wide open. He knew he shouldn’t feel dispondent from the sight of the empty room, but he was. Cautiously entering the area with his guard still heavily held, he made his way towards the center of the room. As he glanced around to assure the other wasn’t hidden, his eyes became distracted as they caught on a folded white piece of paper. Reaching out with unsteady hands, Shouta let his fingers trace around the edge of the paper. He could feel the way the tension churned at his stomach, pitting every emotion he never imagined he’d feel in his gut. Tired dark eyes locked on the sloppy handwriting scrawled across the page, truly hizashis hand writing was abysmal. He unraveled the folds to reveal a winded letter laying behind them.

-

Shouta,

Seeing as you wouldn’t listen last night, i wrote this all down for you. I know the chances you’ll read this are slim. I know you’re furious with me, and I can’t say that I blame you. I wouldn’t be shocked if you threw this letter out and forgot about me all together, but I can’t leave knowing things are the way they are. You deserve to know as much of the truth as I can tell you, which isn’t really much. Just know, i promise this was all to protect you. I know you’re probably rolling your eyes at that, but it’s the truth. I wouldn’t have given up being able to see you every single day if I didn’t have a cause. I’d rather live my life miserable and distanced from you knowing you’re alive than have to live with the fact you’re dead because i tried to fight these guys. Just know, that even if you stop loving me it’s okay, I’ll never hold it against you. Even if it’s not with me I want to know you’re happy and safe. You asked me last night how long I’ve been lying for. It’s only been for the last year that I’ve been keeping secrets, but never once did i pretend to be you’re friend or your lover. Every moment of our love was genuine, a hundred percent baby. Every smile I gave you was palpable, every laugh was legitimate, and every kiss authentic. If you believe me about nothing else, I’m begging, please believe that every time I said I loved you I meant it. Every single last time. I still love you, and I won’t ever stop. I miss you, seeing you last night made me realize a lot of things. One of the most important ones being that i should have came to you and let you know what was happening, but I thought i was doing the right thing trying to protect you. I’m sorry that I was a giant idiot babe and screwed things up for the both of us. Please take care of yourself. Since I’m not there to nag you anymore babe, shower daily. Don’t forget to feed yourself, and sauce packets aren’t a meal! I love you three thousand baby, and I promise you that’s the god honest truth. Catch you on the flip side Eraser.

Hizashi

-

Tears ran down Aizawas face as his fingers dug into the corners of the paper, his body shaking with sobs. Stood with the note in his hands, salt water blinding his vision, the erasure champion couldn’t help but kick himself. He wished he could have heard these words for himself last night, but he was to stubbornly idiotic for his own good sometimes. Pressing the ball of his palm to his right eye, the other continued on to read the small blurb at the bottom of the note. That idiot would leave a post scriptum after writing such a heartfelt note. It was probably something ridiculous and childish.

-

P.S

I left something in the closet for you. Hold onto it for me. Im gonna need it back one day, and I know it’ll be safe with you.

-

Shoutas heart stopped, his body hardly even hesitating to fly to his closet. Yanking the door open, he froze to see the other mans hero costume, complete with directional speaker set up in the safety of his closet. He didn’t know what intentions the other planned to act on, but he knew three things. One, this was not going to be the last time he ever saw Hizashi. Two, that man intended to clear his name. Three, Shouta wasn’t sure how, but he was going to make sure he was there to help. As much as it pained him, he believed Hizashi. Uncaring of the consequences the underground hero set off in search for his friend. If he knew his lover, which he did, the man had a half baked idea that would probably get him killed....and there was no way Shouta would let him do it alone. Gathering both his and Hizashi’s equipment, the man headed out leaving everything he knew behind. Love was irrational and for once, Shouta was fine knowing that. He’d rather be seen as a traitor, aiding and abetting the other, then live in a world without him. Even after the monumental betrayal of the other, he still trusted him.

#aizawa shouta #aizawa x reader #my hero academia #toshinori x reader #toshinori yagi #yamada hizashi #hizashi x reader #bnha requests #eraserhead #bnha aizawa #traitormic #present mic #present mic x eraserhead #yamada x aizawa

[emeraldtawny]

Mitsuhide x MC: Why?

The 100 follower appreciation fic for the lovely @tarralin ~! The request was simple: angst with a little spice (which ended up being more fluff oops) with a rain setting and the MC as the one pushing the other away.

I’ve been putting this kitsune boi on the backburners for a while and have been wanting to write something for him, so this request was perfect...aside from the fact that I’m hurting him slightly *nervous laughter*. I don’t consider myself that good at angst so I hope I did your request justice and hope you and everyone else enjoy~!

You love him. The glint of endless amusement in his golden eyes, the oddly fitting way he gently pats your head or caresses your hair despite his outwardly teasing demeanour, his unusual yet undeniable kindness in the way he speaks with you. And his smile - not the one shown to most others, but the one that you’re almost certain is reserved for you and you alone.

And that thought pierces deep into your heart and viciously twists.

You want this, you want him, but you quash your desires with all of the willpower you can muster. It’s too dangerous, these feelings walking that fine line between compassion and obsession as they eat away at you with how long you’ve kept them repressed.

(He can’t know. He can’t ever know how I feel. If he does, I…)

You swallow hard, your pain manifesting as a lump in your throat that constricts your airway. You know the risks of Mitsuhide’s duties as Nobunaga’s left-hand man, and you’re more than aware that you would only burden him with pointless, distracting thoughts if you were to bring these feelings of yours to light. The last thing you want is to make Mitsuhide’s duties harder than they no doubt already are - your desires to make him happy have to be shelved in order to let that wish prevail, a sad irony.

All of this while the man in question sits just a few feet away, the few documents left on his desk holding his full attention. You wring your hands together nervously, cutting silent glances at him all the while. His hair, white as the fleeting snow, frames his face as his striking golden hues remain deadly focused like the gaze of a veteran predator. A subtle frown marred his lips while he works, your own lips pursing in thought as you take him in.

“Mitsuhide…”

You don’t even realise you’ve said his name out loud until his gaze moves from the papers to you, his lips curling into that knowing smirk you’ve come to truly adore. His eyes immediately soften, his golden irises akin to the setting sun.

“My my, ___. Are you in need of me that much? I did tell you I would be done soon, so be a good girl and wait a little bit longer.”

You groan internally at your lack of self-control when it comes to him, your cheeks undoubtedly flushed red as Mitsuhide returns to his paperwork, a smile now gracing his lips as he works. After a few more minutes, the shuffling of paper directs your eyes back to him, watching as he stacks the papers neatly on his desk before meeting your eyes with a dangerously tempting grin.

“That wasn’t so hard, was it?”

(It was torture.)

Mitsuhide leans across the desk, his smile widening as your eyes flick away from his, “Now then, what business did you have with me, dear princess?”

(Don’t say it. Don’t let his words cajole you into loosening your lips. Come on, think of something to say that isn’t just “I like being with you”!)

“Uh, well--”

You curse your malfunctioning brain cells, blaming the man before you for their short-circuiting entirely. A deep, baritone chuckle blesses the air and you subconsciously tense, the distinct rustling of a kimono and soft, calculated footsteps filling your ears. Mitsuhide, having walked around his desk, kneels down beside you and gently takes your chin between his thumb and forefinger, tilting your face towards him with no chance of you shying away.

“Surely you should know by now that you can’t lie to me. Though your attempts at doing so are adorable, so I can’t be truly mad.”

“I--”

(No! Don’t say it!)

Your lips tighten, eyes wavering under his scrutinising gaze. His grin widens further, reaching up with his other hand to tuck a stray strand of hair behind your ear.

“___.”

(God, stop.)

“What are you hiding from me, little mouse?”

(Please, stop. You’re making me want to say it!)

Your lips quiver, pressing them together in a tight line to stop Mitsuhide from noticing. Unfortunately for you, he notices - he always notices the minor details, especially concerning you. His smile dials back, the tiniest hint of concern clouding his eyes.

“___? What is it?”

“N--nothing.”

Even you could see through your abysmal attempt at lying. Mitsuhide’s lips curl back down into a frown, a sigh exhaling from his nostrils. Your eyes drop, refusing to meet his eyes any longer, those eyes of deceit, attentiveness and hidden compassion. Both of his hands move to cup your cheeks to tilt your face back up. You stubbornly refuse to meet his gaze, borderline worry ghosting behind the veil of impenetrable impassiveness in his eyes.

“Did something happen? Something I or anyone can help you with?”

(Why?)

His brow furrows at your silence, his thumb running over your cheek and you chide yourself for the small spark that thrills through you, “I can’t help unless you talk to me, so talk.”

(Why, why??)

“Why-”

“Why, what?”

You stare into his eyes, the wall of tears building up threatening to burst through the dam. His own eyes widen yet he remains silent, simply observing your distraught face as you both stare at each other.

“Why do you do the things you do to me? Why do you care for me? Why-” You take in a shaky breath, any lingering desire to hold back your thoughts undone by the raw emotion coursing through you and out of you in the form of a shout, “Why can’t I bring myself to hate you?!”

You feel the microscopic twitch of Mitsuhide’s hands on your face. Your view of his face is distorted by your tears freeing themselves from their confines to stream down your cheeks. Your breaths are shaky and broken, your mind finally catching up with what you just did and you freeze.

(I just told him...everything. No, no no NO!)

You need to get away. Your body is moving before the thought even comes to fruition, shaking off Mitsuhide’s hand and bolting for the door.

“___!”

He reaches for you as you run, but he grasps nothing but air as you throw open the sliding door and sprint away from him like your life depends on it. You can barely see ahead of you through your tears, but your legs don’t stop as you run through the halls of Azuchi Castle and out into the town. A crackle of thunder booms as you weave through the people idling in the streets, hardly sparing a glance at the swirling grey clouds looming ever closer. As your tears dry, the heavens open up to spill tears of their own but still you run, your footfalls drowned out by the rainstorm quickly growing heavier with each passing minute.

Heaving air into your lungs, you rest your back against a tree and listen to the onslaught of raindrops pelting the ground with almost brutal force. Sliding down the tree, you sink to the ground and curl your knees to your chest, your hands shaking as you cross them on top of your knees.

(Of all the ways to say it, I don’t think I could have said it any worse. It...it hurts.)

Mother nature drowns out your sobs, the only witness to your weakness being the raindrops that drop from the tree’s leaves into your hair and onto your skin. Another boom of thunder draws you back to reality, a shiver zipping through your bones. You close your eyes and lean your head back against the cool, dry bark of the tree.

“I really am an idiot.” You mutter to yourself when--

“That’s not the word I would personally use for you.”

Your eyes snap open as fast as lightning, the figure standing before you dripping wet as he looks down at your sorry state. The rain glistening in his hair like small crystals fall with grace from its edges, while his kimono sticks to the skin beneath it, its white fabric slick against his arms and torso. Despite his drowned appearance, his eyes hold warmth as he appraises you. That simple fact is enough to resurface your tears, you biting your lip to keep from sobbing audibly. Mitsuhide chuckles at the way your face twists in sorrow, the sound gentle and soft like the sun emerging from behind a wall of clouds.

“Really now. Leaving without telling me the whole story? I believe that’s more my job than yours.”

He crouches down so he’s eye level with you, wiping his thumb across your cheek with a gentleness that should be criminal, “So tell me, my dear ___, what’s going on in that little head of yours that made you feel the need to run from me?”

“You-” You swallow your words, taking a moment to compose yourself before attempting again, “You followed me? After I said all of those awful things to you?”

“Silly girl. I’d follow you no matter what you say to me.”

(What?)

Your eyes widen, more tears escaping to cascade down your cheeks. Mitsuhide’s thumb makes quick work of your tears before he leans in closer, his forehead resting against yours and your wet hair sticking to his own.

“You really thought I wouldn’t notice? Your obliviousness is forever endearing to me, but I’m disappointed that you thought you could try to hide something from me, especially something like this.”

“What do you mean?” Your words are hollow as you speak them, your mind having already pieced together his leads and clues. Mitsuhide smiles, a smile you believe is truly genuine, one not calculating but instead full of contentment.

“Care to find out?”

(Is this really happening? Am I asleep and just dreaming of what I want? This...doesn’t feel real. This--)

All thought process stops as his hand slides smoothly to the nape of your neck, pulling you closer to eliminate the sliver of distance between you. His lips press to yours in a gentle yet potent kiss, your breath catching in your throat as your mind reels from its distraction of his warm, wet lips on yours.

You aren’t dreaming. No dream could ever recreate a kiss as tantalizing as this, that much you’re certain of.

He withdraws to meet your wide-eyed stare, his golden gaze drawn to your parted lips. Tracing his thumb over your lower lip with a teasing touch, the corner of his mouth twitches up into a smirk as he relishes the look of realisation on your face.

“Do you need more convincing of why I followed you now?”

He leans in again, his breath ghosting over your waiting lips just out of reach. You close your eyes, basking in the feel of his calloused hand tracing the contours of your face.

(This is real. His actions, his words. Everything.)

“Yes.” That single word escapes your throat choked, but not by emotions of sadness and grief. The feeling of relief swelling inside you as you rest your hand atop his is incomparable. Mitsuhide’s presence gentles, almost as if a weight has been lifted from him and the sweet chuckle he releases almost goes unheard from the heavy rain around you.

“As you wish, princess. I’ll be sure to reaffirm to you that your fears are nothing more than fiction. And that the way you feel and the way I feel...are one and the same.”

The last few words of his sentence are muffled as he presses his lips to yours once again, the pure emotion in the gesture telling of Mitsuhide’s feelings, unconcealed by his usual honeyed words or crafted lies. This is all you could ever ask for as you meet his lips with every caress under the tree that shelters you from the blistering storm.

#ikesen #ikesen fanfic #ikesen mitsuhide #this boi could walk into the room and stab me...and I would probably thank him for it #it feels wrong causing him pain no matter how small #this request was very fun to write tho :3

[utterlyhopeful-fics]

Work in Progress

Idk what happened but this is deep, dark, and twisty. I’m thinking there might be a part 2 because this was addictively fun to write. Let me know?!

Miguel Galindo x Reader (x Nestor Oceteva) 

El diablo: The devil 

Vete al demonio: Go to Hell

Eres un gilipollas: You’re an asshole/bastard

Vete a la mierda: Fuck off

Warnings: language (not sorry), angst, sexual tension, talk of cheating

******************************************************

The night sky was rimmed in eerie darkness that particular evening, stars hidden from their spectators as she sat on the back patio of the spacious Galindo property. Any attempt to keep her heart rate in check was launched out the window as she patiently waited for the man of the hour, el diablo himself.

Miguel Galindo was not a man to be fucked with and when he called, she had no choice but to answer. Y/N wondered where Emily and Cristobal were but didn’t think too much into it as she observed the towering guards securing all her potential exits, her nerves igniting once again.

Y/N had been Miguel’s closest friend since their Ivy League days, back when his heart appeared kinder and his edge had not yet been brazened, but today he was anew. In his world, he was known for his ruthless leadership and volatility. Strikingly handsome, intelligent, and daringly ambitious.

“I can’t do this on my own, Y/N. I wasn’t lying when I told you I loved you.” His eyes attempted any plea to her nearing his wits’ end.

“Please don’t do this. Why am I here, did you need something?”

“Your coyness is one quality I admire, always so defiantly resilient.”

“Emily is my friend and your wife Miguel. And what about Nestor? I am not fucking this up. You’re. Not. Worth. The. Risk.”

“It’s cute that you think you even have a choice in the matter...Don’t forget who you’re talking to and the fucking power I have over this kingdom of sorts.”

“Well it’s the thought that counts, right? Vete al demonio.”

“All spitball and rage, my wild stallion to claim. Someone needs to break you in properly. I should have taken your offer back in college when you were practically begging.”

Aggravating silence consumed Y/N as she blankly eyed the asshole beside her. His tanned hand lingering at her knee before finding the silky material of her dress.

“Cut the shit Miguel. I’m not fucking around anymore.” Any attempt at leaving was blockaded by his grip tightening around her upper thigh, asserting his dominance for all to see. An evilness oozed from his voice, his tone terrifyingly emotionless left her bones quivering.

“Perhaps the fact that you’re still chasing a boy who ripped you to shreds says a lot more about you than it did about him, hm? Tell me, exactly how many women did he fuck before getting caught?”

Aghast, Y/N knew Nestor loved Miguel as his own flesh and blood, but by some sliver of chance she had foolishly longed for the one thing she could never have completely, his soul. What was left of his heart was hers, but his soul sold long ago.

Their code was straightforward, brotherhood above all others, including their complexity of a relationship. Nestor gave himself to her in tiny pieces she willingly accepted, but he always held back his realities further distracting her from the abysmal cartel life.

“It’ called a fucking work in progress. It isn’t an ideal situation but we’re—why do I have to justify this to you of all people? Emily is a fantastic wife and partner, she’s genius--.”

“Oh Y/N. “It terrifies me what I would do for you. My patience is wearing thin though. You know me better than my own wife, and it thrills you, doesn’t it?”

Miguel reveled in seeing her in such a squeamish nature. Shame resonated deep within her, electrifying her insides as guilt coursed into her pierced heart.  

“Besides, Nestor owes me a rather substantial courtesy. Hate to be the bearer of shitty news but caring about you isn’t top on his list these days so I doubt he would give a shit. Lo siento. Even if he did, he is truly only loyal to me. You must understand I am a man built of authority and competence.”

“So, what exactly is your endgame with me?”

“That is for me to know and for you to figure out… over time. Sleep on it tonight but don’t go too far. I will find you.” Fear crept slowly up her spine as his words reverberated through her thoughts, wordlessly nodding her head.

“Compliance is nice, but not a necessity Y/N. Welcome to the big leagues.”

She couldn’t hide the shock written on her features as she spoke before filtering; “I always have a choice Miguel, you cannot force me into ANYTHING. We aren’t kids anymore.”

“You know just as I that you will eventually give into the intense beating pulsing in your blood easier than you will ever admit, and stampede into sinful darkness. Hatred will boil under your skin, your ruthless attitude will falter, and your self- hatred will consume you. At least in the beginning until you ultimately embrace the veritable nature of your corrupt character. Then at long last, peace.”

Speechless, Y/N would never let a man control her to the capacity Miguel was suggesting. She wasn’t one to back down from a fight, even with the devil himself.

“Eres un gilipollas.” Her jaw clenched as saliva pooled in her mouth before deciding to spit on Miguel landing on his right cheek. His fingers wiped across the wetness guiding them into his mouth and loudly moaned.

“Haven’t you noticed my type by now? Audacious, intrepid, and addictive. You are a shell of the woman I will make you, you’ll see. Now, off you go. Sweet dreams Y/N.”

His sickeningly charming smile made an appearance solidifying the impending fate yet to fully unravel. Y/N didn’t realize she was holding her breath before exhaling, gasping for fresh air. Her purse rested on the corner coffee table which held her very escape out of this hell house, her car keys. Standing taller than usual, she bid him goodnight turning her back to him the entirety of their remaining time.

“Before you go, just one more thing.”

“What else could you ask of me, Galindo?” Not giving him the satisfaction, she remained standstill, as if her feet were glued to that exact spot.

���Admit it. It’s always nice to be wanted. Even if it’s the wrong person such as myself?”

“Vete a la mierda.”

A dark chuckle suffocated the surrounding space as the click of her heels struck the lavish granite. Is it better to out-monster the monster or be quietly devoured?

--Requests open!--

#Mayans MC #mayans #mayans mc x reader #My writing #miguel galindo #miguel galindo x reader #miguel x reader #angst #mayans mc fx

[beka-kei]

Februabba Day 4

“Sir...about my grade on this test…” But the professor with the fuschia-colored hair is waving Bruno away.

“It’s not my fault you don’t understand the equations. You clearly didn't study hard enough.”

“Sir. I came by your office hours three times this week and I even emailed you asking for help but you-”

“Not my problem.”

“I really need to pass this class. I can’t afford to retake it. I’m supposed to graduate next semester and your course is only offered in the Fall which means…”

“Hire a tutor if you’re that helpless.”  The professor is snapping and just like that he’s out the door.

“Diavolo’s kind of an ass. I personally think he enjoys making people retake his class.”

The voice belongs to a young man with a mess of stringy pale hair and startling eyes. He’s not the sort of student that Bruno would usually talk to...not because Bruno believes he’s above other people or anything like that but just the way students like this guy carry themselves...how they saunter in late with their headphones blasting and then sit in the back of the class so they can doodle and check their phone as much as they please...it’s just not the kind of influence Bruno thinks would be conducive to bettering himself and there’s something about this guy in particular that’s always been a bit...distracting...he’s never been able to pinpoint what it is exactly. Maybe it’s that he doesn’t look like he’s entirely sincere in his apathy towards the goings-on of the class, like he’s really making a point of putting on a good show of not caring...or maybe it’s that he just has a striking figure and a really nice face and...

But Bruno’s mind is back on the matter at hand. “I’m not going to have to retake the class. I just had a bad test…”

“Correct me if I’m wrong, but your other tests were pretty abysmal too.”

Bruno knows that he should probably be asking why this guy knows this about him, but he doesn’t. Instead, he just mumbles, “I can’t afford to retake this class…”

“I figured as much. But the real question here is if you can afford to bribe me into helping you.”

“Excuse me?!”

“Not many people know this, but I’d do just about anything for a free marocchino and coincidentally there’s only one coffee shop in the whole city that sells them and even more coincidentally that coffee shop happens to be on campus. Ah, but you probably think I don’t think I know my stuff? Well, go ahead and scroll through my scores. I think even you’d be impressed.” The guy is handing Bruno his phone. He’s pulled up the gradebook on the class’ online portal and as Bruno flicks through his grades his jaw nearly hits the floor.

“You’re acing everything...but...but how?! You sit in the back and don’t even pay attention. I’ve seen you!”

“Oh, so you HAVE been watching me from your cozy little front row seat? Don’t think I haven’t noticed.”

Bruno blushes furiously. “No, it’s really not like that...I  mean...I might have happened to look your way once or twice but…”

“And out of all the other slackers who sit in the back, too! Well, I’m flattered. Now look. I’m going to let you in on a little secret. This is my second time coming through this crappy class and the only reason I’m passing is because I was smart enough to get my hands on this.” He’s waving a book in front of Bruno’s face.

“Uhh, isn’t that our textbook?”

“Yes...but check the edition.”

“Fifth.” And theirs was the seventh.

“And if you’d be so kind as to check the author’s list.”

“Wait...Diavolo worked on this one?!”

“He came up with a whole bunch of new hypothetical principles too...but they removed him from the sixth and seventh edition. All his tests use equations from this book. And on the rare occasion they don’t, the answers still require knowing his rejected hypothetical principles. When you actually do the equations, the difference is only apparent after the decimal. But, of course, those numbers are important too so..”

“He doesn’t teach any of this in class?!”

“I reckon he’s been told not to by some higher authority. But the reality is that anyone who doesn’t know to use his stuff gets punished by failing the class.”

“That’s-that’s not fair!”

“Of course it’s not fair, but there’s nothing we can do about it. Word’s going around that that blond kid who sits a few seats down from you...Giorno or whatever his name is...he’s going to file an official complaint because he’s figured out what’s going on. Unfortunately, the university won’t do anything in time for it to benefit us...well, benefit you I should say. So at this point, all you can do is get your hands on one of these and scrape by as best you can.”

The pale haired guy is heading toward the door and starting to pull on his headphones.

“Hey. I think I owe you a coffee.”

“Eh, but I’ve already told you all you need to know for free so I kinda messed that up for myself, didn’t I? But next time you need help, I’ll make a point of being a real ass and-”

“I want to get coffee with you.” Bruno is suddenly adamant and the guy actually pauses. Well, now that he’s got his attention... “Because I want to thank you for helping me out. And...because... I’ve actually meant to ask you to coffee for a while now but I just didn’t know if…”

“If the people in the back row ever notice the ones in the front row? It’s a possibility.” The other guy is grinning now as he slides his headphones back around his neck and puts out a hand. “My name’s Leone, by the way.”

And as the handshake lingers, Bruno’s already envisioning how tomorrow, when he gets to class, he’ll walk straight past the front and up the aisle and head all the way to the back row.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/17638013/chapters/41687318

#bruabba #leone abbacchio #bruno bucciarati #bruno buccellati #sorry this is so long #long post #college au #februabba #day 5 #college #oh and it's late too #oops #life got crazy #sorry again it's so long

[dma-dima]

The Bottom of a Bottle

When a guy slams another guy onto your table, it's usually a good idea to get out of the way. Broken glass and flying fists so often resulted in collateral damage. When it happened to Faraday though, in his dark little corner, made all the darker by his abysmal mood, he merely tilted his chair back and calmly moved his beer before the fighting pair could spill it.

It didn't last long.. Mitch ran a tight ship, and while fights were expected, they weren't welcome indoors. He grabbed them both by their collars and threw them outside with a yell of 'go home to your wives', dusting his hands off and shaking his head before tapping Faraday on the shoulder.

"Everything alright over here?"

He sighed, draining the last of his beer, intending to leave if he was going to be bothered when everything about him screamed 'I want to be left alone'.

"Peachy. Excuse me."

But a hand on his shoulder prevented him from standing, and he struggled to muster enough enthusiasm to get angry about it.

"Wait wait, let me get you one on the house. My apology for those two."

Mitch jabbed a thumb over his shoulder needlessly, towards the door. Faraday thought about turning down the offer, but only got as far as thinking. He'd come to drown his sorrows, but in his haste he'd fled to the harbour without picking up any funds. The caps in his pocket had gotten him only mildly tipsy, and he couldn't bear to be around people whenever that wore off.

The whole situation made him uncharacteristically charitable towards charity.

"So long as it's not the swill you served me earlier. Couldn't stomach another of those if you paid me."

Mitch laughed. His big, hearty laugh. Faraday briefly entertained the idea of starting a fight himself, but that would take energy. Something he was sorely lacking at present.

Besides, if he got barred then he'd have nowhere to crash for the night.

"You're a cheeky bastard, har! Good! He speaks! Thought I'd have to fish you out the drink later, looking so grim."

Here it comes.. any moment now the nosy bartender was going to try to pull a story out of him. Faraday sighed again, pressing the heels of his hands against his bloodshot eyes and leaning lower over the dingy table. He half listened as the group nearest the jukebox erupted into raucous laughter, wondering, in his state of self pity, what the hell they had to be so happy about.

He felt a presence looming over him just before something glass was set down at his elbow with a thud. Without looking, Faraday tch'd under his breath and spoke.

"You trying to butter me up Mitch? Thought the lock on that cupboard only opened if you sacrificed a virgin."

"HAR!" That booming fucking laugh.. he wasn't smiling. He WASN'T. "Just making sure you pass out good and proper. Always wanted myself a pretty white coat, reckon it'd make me look intelligent."

'What you're looking for is a miracle.' Was what Faraday thought, but what he actually said was..

"Yeah well I don't take it off on the first date. Bit of a policy. Not unless you buy me dinner first."

Mitch clapped him almost painfully on the shoulder.

"You hear that Debby!" He shouted, gaining the attention of a woman who'd been collecting glasses from one of the noisier tables. "This one's tryin' to get himself a free meal. The spit bucket full or do we get him to wait an hour?"

"Depends!" She shouted back. "How runny does he like his gravy?"

Faraday grimaced, though this banter wasn't so bad. It was actually a nice distraction from the recording in his minds eye, playing on a constant, torturous loop. The way DiMA had said his name, the way DiMA's lips had felt as he kissed him, DiMA's hand on his chest, pushing him away, the inexplicable sadness in DiMA's eyes as he'd rejected him, again.. DiMA DiMA DiMA..

"Yeah on second thought I already ate. Thanks Mitch."

He picked up the bottle and nodded stiffly, both thanking and dismissing him clearly enough for even the most thick skulled unfortunate. When Mitch had gone back behind the bar to 'clean' glasses, it occurred to Faraday that he had nothing in which to pour the whiskey he'd been given, but that suited him just fine. No sense wasting time pouring when it could just go straight down the hatch.

It burned like fire on the way down, eviscerating.. almost cleansing. The more he drank the more his memory of the kiss blurred around the edges, became almost dreamlike.. a bad dream that lingered after waking, but still unreal. The pain of it had been real, but it had happened in another time and place, separate from this reality. It hadn't actually happened to him. He hadn't really kissed DiMA, he hadn't really been pushed away.. those were just his insecurities coming out to play. One day, when the time was right, he'd share another kiss with the synth who didn't know how much he loved him.. only this one wouldn't be cut short with a dreaded 'I'm sorry, but..'

"Yeah.. and one day I'll run for president." He muttered to himself darkly, taking another swig from the half empty bottle.

#Faraday #the last plank #Mitch #alcohol #Debby #far harbor

[rilenerocks]

Here’s a selfie I took this morning, me wearing my favorite mask. As I believe this pandemic is going to last a long time, I’m collecting a variety of them. How very strange. Of the many things I’ve done in my life that seemed unimaginable, wearing a mask daily ranks near the top of that list. I remember having lots of conversations with people about how if time travel was possible, as portrayed in films like The Time Machine or Back to the Future, I’d never have chosen to go forward, to see what was waiting for me down the road. I still feel the same way.

I didn’t realize I’d accidentally taken this photo of my hair today, some time when I was out in the garden, looking for my newest blooms or insects on the wing. I thought it was both funny and oddly artistic. My garden, along with my funny little kiddie pool, are my salvation during these seemingly endless repetitive days of social distancing. I know that because my country’s response to the coronavirus has been so abysmal, I’m likely to be occupying this unexpected peculiar life for many months so I’d better make good use of whatever breaks the monotony. Outside I go, absent intolerable weather, to hunt for what nature has to offer daily, a beautiful little transient moment that I can freeze in time. Here are some of today’s little treasures.

I have lots more photos from today and many other days. They’re easier for ne to edit and publish than a post I’ve  been grappling with for a week. It’s chapter 11 of my small book about the years of Michael’s cancer and death – Be 278. I knew I needed to write that narrative, even when Michael was still alive. I thought it would not only help me come to terms with those challenging years, but also help others whose lives are upended  by a terrible diagnosis. I’m at the part when Michael has risen from the proverbial ashes, rescued from what we thought was imminent death, by a drug that for him, was essentially a miracle. This chapter is about remission which I thought would be easier to describe than some of the more painful moments. But it isn’t. I still get overwhelmed. I take breaks, going outside to see what the birds are doing, and other winged creatures or random garden visitors as well.

This is all great distraction. I give myself a break for being undisciplined about writing all that hard stuff because living it all over again is really brutal. I remember a lot of it, vividly, even after five years which in reality, is only a little time. But I also have my journals, pages and pages of feelings and descriptions, of ugly moments and painful beauty. I get involved with reading them to the point where I’m so exhausted that when I’m finished, I can’t write a word. That’s when I go outside, or read a book, or splash my feet in my little pool and watch the clouds go by while I listen to music on my ridiculously large headphones. I think it’s good to know yourself well enough to listen when your mind tells you to take a step back.

This evening I was immersed in the journals again, trying to establish a sequence of events, having gotten almost 1400 words squeezed out of my head that for the most part, seem coherent. While flipping the pages, I came to a number of them that I wrote in the fall of 2015, at a time when Michael was still in his exceptional response to treatment and I felt safe enough to venture back into the non-medical world to do something for myself. I took a creative writing class. I remember how great it felt to be participating in a normal retirement activity, doing something I’d always wanted to do, years before I initiated this blog. I didn’t remember all that much about what I wrote though. I liked my teacher and distinctly recall an ego-boosting moment when she read what she felt were the greatest first sentences in fiction and I could identify every single book. I felt like this part of my brain that I’d forgotten was abruptly, back up front, away from cancer studies and clinical articles. I even remember the first sentence she read: “Many years later, as he faced the firing squad, Colonel Aureliano Buendía was to remember that distant afternoon when his father took him to discover ice.” One Hundred Years of Solitude by Gabriel Garcia Marquez, which happened to be my favorite novel.

After that class, our assignment was to write ten sentences that we thought would be engaging starters to a story or novel. What I found tonight in my journal was what I wrote for that assignment. I was fascinated by them but I never had time to go back and use them to go any further. Michael was still living and when he was at his strongest, I wanted to experience as much time together as possible. And when remission ended, and we walked those last months to his death, I forgot about creative writing. After he was gone, I took more classes, mostly about science and genetics, with jazz thrown in on the side. I started this blog about 6 months after Michael’s death, committed more to memoir than fiction. But now my interest is piqued. I don’t know whether I’ll pick these up and go anywhere with them. Regardless of what I’ll do, here are my 10 opening sentences, written five years ago.

1) When the sun broke through her bedroom blinds, Belle pulled the comforter down far enough to peek over it with one eye and register dismay that she was in the same room where she’d fallen asleep the previous night.

2) No matter how hard Jack squeezed and twisted the nightgown, his face pressed against the slinky cotton, no scent of Emily remained.

3) Goldfinches swayed on the pampas grass, denuding the plumes of their seed bounty in the brisk November wind.

4) Low tide, the edge of the beach covered in the former homes of sea creatures who had made a splendid snack for the inevitable predator.

5) The house appeared to be average for the neighborhood, effectively concealing the emotional disarray behind the sturdy wood door.

6) Every time Claire drew closer to Chicago, the sky’s subtle transition from blue to a sickly yellow color was a reminder of why she’d left so many years ago.

7) Although a distant geology class had provided the reason for the change in the color of the earth, the brilliant orange ground never failed to stun him.

8) “Keep your head down and don’t make eye contact with anyone or we’ll never get out of here.”

9) When they walked to the lake that morning, neither one imagined that this particular day would provide sanctuary for them through all life’s agonies, small and large.

10) Impossibly, a fountain pen with green ink and a piece of damask paper was enough to blot out the disappointment of last night’s dismal sexual failure.

So, there they are. Ten beginnings. I still like most of them and have a fair idea where I’d go with them. We’ll see. Tomorrow, I go back to the remission chapter. Time only allows for the occasional step back at my age.

A Step Back Here’s a selfie I took this morning, me wearing my favorite mask. As I believe this pandemic is going to last a long time, I’m collecting a variety of them.