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#I feel like I’ve gotten into a habit of recommending someone/something on every second piece but I cannot NOT do it
ivyithink · 6 months
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CONGRATS TO ME PERSONALLY ON SEASON 2 OF TGCF
doodle for the occasion + some older pieces I’ve never posted…
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escxpedes · 3 years
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loopholes (fin.)
Remember when I said I’d post this like two days after the last part? No? Me neither... Sorry about the delay, I’ve had a severe lack of motivation. (It’s mental illness innit.) I feel like every part of this story gets longer and longer, and makes even less sense. If you haven’t read the other two parts, I recommend you do so. These technically can be read standalone, but I think it’s cuter when you read them knowing the context. Even though, again, they seem to make less sense the more I write. Lots of new information came about season 5, and it’s both nerve-racking and exciting at the same time! Three cheers for anxiety, amiright? Hope you all are doing well, I’m excited to hear the feedback on the last part of this series. Let me know if there’s anything you’d like me to write, I’m a sucker for prompts! x  
part one | part two
~
loop·hole
noun | A loophole is an ambiguity or inadequacy in a system, such as a law or security, which can be used to circumvent or otherwise avoid the purpose, implied or explicitly stated, of the system.
~
hands that wrap around my wrists, (and arms that feel like home.)
Shutting down the monitors she was using, Riley tries not to think about how her sleep deprivation affects her body. It’s one thing to work as a distraction, but the drag in her pace tells her this coping method is wearing her down.
How is she supposed to save innocent lives when she’s so exhausted.
And she is, exhausted, that is. Not just physically, but mentally and emotionally. Every part of her is weightless, suspended in air, and it feels like she can’t do a single thing about it.
An irritating helplessness encompasses her, tightening its grasp on her sanity.
She wants to cry out, throw something, cause a scene. Instead, she buries her feelings deep in her subconscious and tries not to focus on how tight her chest is.
It’s an occupational hazard, she tells herself. It’s nothing she can’t handle, she repeats daily. It’s almost a mantra by now, echoing inside her head and ramping up what seems to be an infinite supply of determination.
It’s the only way.
Mac waits for her outside, leaning against the building while she locks up. Her vision is still kind of fuzzy due to lack of energy, and her body doesn’t seem to be completely awake yet. She can physically feel Mac’s concerned gaze burning a hole in her cranium as if staring hard enough will give him access to all recesses of her mind.
“Ready?”
She nods, feigning a smile, and bumping his shoulder with her own, “You never mentioned why you stopped by so late.”
Ignorance is bliss, right?
“I left my phone in the labs.” She can hear the exasperation in his voice; concern rushes forward and sends a pang through her heart.
Suddenly, she’s irritated too, not with Mac, but for Mac. He does the right thing for humanity despite all that humanity has done to him. She can’t imagine how frustrated he must be with the entire situation, once again putting the world before himself.
He’s had so little time to process everything.
She knows he could use a break but also knows that he won’t admit he needs one.
For how smart he is, he can be really stupid sometimes.
When she turns her head to look at him, she can tell she’s lost him to his own thoughts. His eyebrows are furrowed, his usually clear eyes unfocused, and his mouth is set in a grim line.
If she listens closely, she can almost hear the gears turning, working out possible solutions, and thinking through every outcome.
It’s not an uncommon expression.
She stops abruptly, “Hey.”
This seems to shake him from his trance, his eyes meeting hers in a questioning manner.
“You are doing the best you can under the circumstances, but pushing yourself too hard won’t solve anything,” Her hand finds its way to his arm and squeezes reassuringly, “You can take care of the planet, but make sure to take care of yourself, too.”
The look he gives her is so full of gratitude and affection that nearly every emotion that Riley’s fought to contain bursts through its confinement and surges through her body.
“Thank you.”
Her breath catches in her throat, making it hard to breathe.
“What for?”
She really hopes the shaky breath that follows goes unnoticed.
“For always believing in me, no matter what.” His gaze is piercing, robbing the ability to form words from her throat.
She rakes her mind for something, anything, to say that will stop her from doing something she would totally, one hundred percent regret.
“It’s what Jack would do.”
It takes everything in her to break eye contact and shrug nonchalantly. Humor laces her tone, despite the sincerity of her statement. It is something Jack would do, something he taught her to believe in. Not necessarily in Mac, but what her gut is telling her.
It seems that in any given situation, before or after Jack’s departure, Mac’s intuition has always mirrored her own. Since the second he broke her out of prison, they always had the same values. Just like Jack, she learned how to read and understand Mac.
She knows how to interpret his rambling. She knows that no matter the situation, he’ll always put everyone else first. She knows that whatever crazy plan he’s come up with, it’s constructed with the best intentions.
She knows that no matter where he goes, and no matter what he does, her instinct is to trust him.
So she does.
With every ounce of her being. 
She desperately wants to share this with him, especially if it would probably make him feel better. However, she knows the second she starts talking, she won’t be able to stop. Mac’s got a way of doing that, translating her thoughts into words that tumble out of her before she can control what they might mean.
The grin Mac throws her, which conveys understanding and amusement, allows the tension between them to dissipate.
“Speaking of Jack, he would absolutely kill me if I let you drive home in your state.”
Before she can get a word in edgewise, he’s already opening the passenger side door of his truck. The tone in his voice leaves little room for debate, as if he’s ready to refute whatever argument she can muster up, so Riley doesn’t argue.
She wants to, but just the idea of operating a car sounds exhausting.
Besides, she’s missed this. She’s missed Mac, not just as someone she’s possibly in love with, but as her best friend. With everything going on, she’s hardly been able to see him.
The absence of him in her life hurts just as much as having him in it.
She literally can’t win.
The silence that follows is comfortable, the rumbling engine serving as white noise to Riley as she dozes off against the window.
She tries to, anyway. Driving with Mac is always an adventure, which is useful when trying to avoid being killed by a terrorist organization. Maneuvering Los Angeles traffic? Way, way less so.
“Maybe driving myself home wouldn’t have been such a bad idea.” She mumbles, fighting the urge to grab the handle above the door.
“Hey! I always get us home in one piece.”
“Physically maybe,” an amused smile finds its way to Riley’s face, “But mentally? I should sue you for psychological trauma.”
The look of disbelief that follows is enough to get her through several lifetimes, or it could be the smile he struggles to hide under his offended facade.
“Ouch,” Mac puts his left hand over his heart, “That hurts right here, Riles.”
The nickname throws her off, causing her stomach to flip. It’s just a silly name, it shouldn’t affect her like this, but her heart still clenches uncomfortably.
She attempts to brush it off, trying for a humoring grin that feels more like a grimace.
Though the comfortable atmosphere doesn’t change, the playful energy is replaced by more silence. As buildings pass outside, all Riley can think about is how much she hates silence. Man, what she would do just to get rid of it for a little bit. It’s constant these days, and it always finds her no matter where she goes.
Her fingers tug at her bottom lip, a nervous habit she’s recently adopted, as she tries to think through possible solutions to the predicament she’s found herself in.
She must be pretty engrossed because it takes her a minute to realize Mac’s spoken again.
“What?” Her brain slows down enough to pick out his words, something about how much sleep she’s gotten recently, “Oh, I don’t know.”
She tries not to notice how concerned he looks when he asks, “You don’t know?”
Not really
Logically, she knows that she sleeps almost every night. How long? It’s hard to tell sometimes. If she’s lucky, she can get a couple hours in before her brain goes into hyperdrive. Other times, she’d rather be doing something productive on her rig instead of staring at her ceiling fan.
She props her elbow against the window and rests her head in her hand, “I guess it hasn’t been a priority.”
From the corner of her eye, she can see him open his mouth and close it abruptly, trying to find the right words to comfort or soothe her.
As always, Mac is trying to rectify the situation.
“You know you can talk to me about anything, right?”
She doesn’t miss the parallel and throws him the same reclusive look he had given her on multiple occasions.
“That’s my line.”
There’s an irritating tension that fills the space, like the feeling you get when you can’t get past a certain level on a video game. It’s a little stifling, urging Riley to do whatever it takes to make it disappear.
“C’mon Riley, you’ve been off ever since, you know, the whole codex situation. At first, I thought, well, it was kind of traumatizing for everyone involved, but then you moved out and,” He trails off, and she can physically see him putting all the working components together, “Is it the apartment?”
God, she wished it was just the apartment. Sure, it plays a part in all her problems right now, but she knows that it’s more of what the empty apartment represents than the apartment itself.
Still, she’s glad he came to that conclusion. It’s easier to lie to him when it doesn’t pertain to the actual issue at hand.
“The apartment’s fine,” she says after a moment of hesitation.
“It’s the AC unit, isn’t it?” His lips compress shortly before he shakes his head, “I knew I should have looked at it.”
As he starts ranting about the condenser coils in her air conditioner and how easy it is for them to get dirty, Riley can’t help but let a soft laugh fall from her lips.
“Mac, it’s not my air conditioning.”
When he opens his mouth to respond, she holds her hand up to stop him. “It’s not my heater either, or my ceiling fan, or anything that might require your unique expertise.”
“But it has something to do with the apartment.”
The statement is blanketed in excitement as if he knows he’s getting closer to uncovering the truth. He’s always been so obsessed with knowledge and learning, never quite capable of letting things go and living in ignorance.
His eyes light up with child-like curiosity; it’s highly annoying and endearing at the same time.
She feels her self control loosening.
With Mac, she feels secure, like maybe she can put herself back together again. She could confess to a crime, and he wouldn’t look at her any differently.
That helplessness kicks back in, tearing her apart from the inside.
When he slows to a stop in front of her complex, she hasn’t answered him yet.
In the back of her mind, she’s a little proud of herself for only joking about his driving once in the ten minutes it took to get there.
She stares at the lobby entrance and can feel the soft flannel of his shirt, giving him a hug before she exits his truck. She can hear the sleepiness in her voice as she leans against the door and tells him goodnight. She can see herself walk through the double doors and not turning around.
She can see it so clearly, but she remains planted in the passenger seat.
Fear tangles itself in her shoulders, in her stomach, in her heart.
Not just because she dreads the idea of spending another night counting the minutes before her alarm goes off, but because she doesn’t want to leave with their friendship in this state.
She just wants everything to go back to normal, to get back some semblance of their old friendship before she knew how she felt.
Mac waits beside her, a patient and comforting presence.
“It’s just so quiet. Up there, it’s just me and my thoughts. They never cease or quiet down; it’s a constant loop. I try listening to music or watching TV, but I can never focus on any of it. Then, I start panicking because I don’t know if it’ll ever go away. There’s no comfort, no stability. I’m just… alone.”
With every word, a little of the weight falls from her shoulders.
It almost feels like she can breathe again.
“The only time I don’t feel like that is when I’m working,” she clenches her hands in her lap, “At Phoenix, I can get to any room in the dark with my eyes closed, and I’m constantly surrounded by people I’ve known for years. It feels… safe.”
Mac’s silent, reaching over to grasp one of her hands.
“You don’t feel safe here?” He encloses her left hand between his own and squeezes, the pressure and warmth spreading through her body like wildfire.
She meets his eyes, “Not in the way that matters.”
He turns the truck off, hopping out before Riley can say anything else. He walks around the hood of the car and pulls the passenger door open, “Come on.”
“What are you doing?”
He helped her out of the truck, “You trust me, right?”
More than he’ll ever know.
“You know I do.” She eyed him suspiciously as he opened one of the complex’s doors for her, following as she entered.
“From what I can recall, Bozer got you a Nintendo Switch for your birthday earlier this year. It’s been a while since I’ve had the pleasure of destroying you in Super Smash Bros.”
His voice was quiet, trying not to disturb the people trying to sleep.
“First of all, you’ve never destroyed me in Super Smash Bros, and you never will if you keep playing with Luigi,” She grinned, watching as he shook his head in disagreement, “And second of all, it’s two in the morning.”
He shrugged, “That’s never stopped us before.”
He wasn’t wrong, but things were different now.
Riley tried not to think about Desi, wrapped up in Mac’s bed, peacefully sleeping and blissfully unaware of this entire exchange.
Not that she had anything to worry about.
It didn’t matter anyway because clearly, Riley had issues with saying “no” to Angus Macgyver.
“Fine, but prepare to get your ass beaten.”
He grinned triumphantly, “That sounds like a challenge.”
She unlocked her apartment door, stepping into the dark and quiet entryway. She faltered a little bit, her heartbeat quickening with newfound anxiety.
As always, the apartment radiated energy that always put Riley out of place.
Mac closed the door behind him, helping himself to any food he could find in her fridge. There was an intimacy to it, a closeness that made the apartment much more bearable. Her shoulders dropped a little, the anxiety easing a little as she took a deep breath.
She busied herself in the living room, connecting the switch to her TV and grabbing a variety of different pillows and blankets.
It was, after all, a tradition for these types of events.
Mac joined her after a couple of minutes with two beers, “Your fridge is worse than mine.”
“Will you get it started,” Riley ignore his comment, handing him one of the controllers, “ I’m going to change.”
When she returned in a comfy ensemble of leggings and a sweatshirt, Mac was scrolling through the character list. She hopped the back of the couch to sit next to him, watching as he hovered over Luigi for what feels like an eternity.
“You’ve got to be kidding me.”
Mac’s determined expression didn’t falter, “You’re just jealous of my skills.”
Those skills proved to be no match for Riley’s, though, after she managed to beat him in the first game. It became much more entertaining when she did it again in the second. She tried not to laugh, but it became nearly impossible with his onslaught of complaints.
“You’re such a cheater, you can’t do that!” He pressed down hard on the keys as if smashing them harder will make Luigi speed up.
Jokes on him, Luigi was the slowest character in the game.
Very slowly, her exhaustion began to creep up on her. She knew she was done for when Mac actually managed to beat her. He seemed just as surprised as she was, but he suggested switching to a movie anyway.
They ended up choosing a documentary, something that Mac had been interested in watching recently. Riley didn’t care what they watched, as long as she got to lay down.
Mac placed a pillow in his lap and tapped it gently.
“So, was this your plan,” She comfortably adjusted her body, so her neck wasn’t in an awkward position propped up on the pillow.
In front of them, a monotone voice explained the phenomena surrounding the universe.
“Homo Sapiens are social creatures; we need people to survive,” Riley could feel Mac’s fingers coursing through her waves, creating a soothing pattern that calmed any remaining tension in her body. 
“You feel comfortable at Phoenix, sitting around the fire pit at my house, or spending time with the team at the arcade because we’re there. It’s okay to need us, Riles, because trust me, we need you, too.”
Mac’s words barely resonate with her, and she hummed noncommittally in response.
His fingers gently combed through the tangles at the nape of her neck, “I don’t think we build homes in material things like houses or apartments, but rather, in the people we surround ourselves with.”
Laying there, with her head on his lap and his fingers in her hair, Riley could only think one thing:
He couldn’t be more right. 
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backtobackbakubabe · 4 years
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Baby its Cold Outside (PART 4)
Bakugo x Reader
ANGST HOLY SHIT ANGST.
Words: 2613
PART 1 HERE, PART 2 HERE, PART 3 HERE PART 4 HERE PART 5 HERE , PART 6 HERE PART 7 HERE PART 8 HERE PART 9 HERE PART 10 HERE PART 11 HERE PART 12 HERE PART 13 HERE PART 14 HERE
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Today was your first day on the job with your new partner. You couldn't exactly say you were disappointed with who you chose. Izuku had gone to school with you and he actually had known Katsuki longer than you had. He was just as surprised as you when Katsuki had recommended that you team up with “Fucking Deku” Shocking you further he finally decided who he was going to team up with... He picked... Denki...
Bakugo claimed there were no good options and he didn't want to talk about it. But you got the feeling that he was a little excited about fighting with one of his UA pals again. 
Izuku insisted that you call him by his hero name while on duty, but you just felt wrong calling him Deku when you knew the origin. But you complied and told him he could call you by your hero name if he wanted. You told him about how you had gone back and forth on names for a while but you had finally landed on Adsum. 
“Oh cool! If you don't mind my asking what does it mean? I mean it sounds pretty but I don't think I’ve ever heard it before.” 
You had forgotten how adorable Izuku’s little nerd mumbles were, “It’s latin for I am here. You know because I teleport so its like one second I’m here and the next I’m there... It’s kind of stupid...” 
Deku’s jaw dropped, “WHAT! Thats the coolest name I’ve ever heard! THATS ALL MIGHTS CATCH PHRASE! Oh wow I’m so jealous. I wish I would have thought of that. That would be so cool to have All Might’s catch phrase in a different language as your hero name. Latin is such a beautiful language....” 
You tuned him out as you opened up a new text to Bakugo. 
y/n: I’ve spent all of 15 mins with Deku and I’ve already gotten him to nerd mumble twice lol. I’m totally going to make this a game! See how many times I can get him to do it in a day. 
Babe: Fucking nerd... 
Babe: His records 12 by the way. 
y/n : Oh Yeah? And how would you know that? 
Babe: Same reason I know he’s mumbling right now and you’re totally ignoring him... I'm observant. 
Your head snapped up. No way. Where was he hiding? Was that asshole really watching you on your first day apart? 
“Oi Deku!” 
Deku stiffened a moment out of habit before he schooled himself to turn around and face Bakugo, who had somehow managed to sneak up on both of you. 
“Oh hi Kacha... I mean Ground Zero!” As much of an asshole as Bakugo was to Deku, Deku never really seemed to let it get to him. “What are you doing here? Aren't you supposed to be with Kaminari?” 
Bakugo walked past Deku without so much as a glance as he stood in front of you, feet firmly planted, arms crossed over his chest, and eyes boring into yours. “Deku I’m only going to tell you this once. Keep an eye on her. She’s sneaky and will run off on her own. So try to keep up for once in your life.”  He smirked at your irritated glare before he continued. “I’ve honesty thought about putting a bell around her neck. But if you listen carefully you can hear her gasp as she goes to hold her breath so make sure you’re fucking listening!” 
He softened just a bit before he leaned over and gave your forehead a quick kiss “Oh and I think this goes without saying... if anything happens to her I will fucking kill you. Got it?!” 
You both look over and Izuku is studiously writing everything Bakugo was saying in one of his many notebooks mumbling about all the new facts he just learned about you. “Kill me.... Got it...” 
Bakugo smirked at you, “There, now you’re at three. Only ten more to go to beat my record.” He gave your ass a quick swat before turning to leave, “I need to go find dunce face before he gets himself into trouble. I’ll see you at home. Please be safe.” 
And just like that he was blasting off, literally blasting off, creating quite the scene as he went to go find his new partner. 
You rolled your eyes at your dramatic boyfriend and went about you day as usual. 
When you got home that night you couldn't help but teleport right into Katsuki’s lap. “Alright I knew the first day was going to be hard. But seriously working with Deku is sooo much different than working with you. I missed your little quips and the way you pushed me to always be on my A game. I royally fucked up today and Deku was all, ‘Oh it’s fine Adsum... Don’t worry about it Adsum... Everyone makes mistakes Adsum...’ Which I mean is nice and all but I messed up! You would have torn my ass to pieces! You kno-”
Bakugo slapped his hand over your mouth, “New house rule. I don’t want to hear about anything that has to do with Deku. Unless he did something that put you in danger, in which case I would need to kick his ass, I don't want to hear about it.” His scarlet eyes bore into yours, his hand still covering your mouth so you just nodded. “Alright. Good.” He removed his hand, “Now about you royally fucking up... Do I dare ask what you did?” 
You instantly blushed, “Well you’re not going to like it.” 
He sighed, “Yeah I gathered that when you said I would have torn your ass to pieces. Y/n what did you do?” 
You leaned into him, hoping if you were snuggling with him he would be less angry. “Well you see it’s not totally my fault. There was some sketchy villain who was selling hero tech illegally and Deku and I were following him to see if we could catch him in the act. He ended up catching on to us and made a run for it. He turned down an alley...” You started running your hands up and down his arm mindlessly as you got to the part you knew he wasn't going to like. “So I was supposed to teleport ahead of him and cut him off. No big deal, I do that all the time. Except you know how I have to visualize were I’m going? Well we weren't exactly on a street that I knew too well. So instead I ended up in the building he was running into and... well.. it was some kind of headquarters. So I unintentionally popped into a room full of villains without backup and I panicked and teleported right back out to the street where Deku was, but they all had seen me and now the place has been cleared out. The police had been watching them for months now and were preparing a bust, but I went and tipped them off and fucked everything up.” 
You threw your head in the crook of his neck so you didn't have to see how disappointed in you he was. 
He wasn't having any of that though, he gripped your chin and made you look at him. “If you’re waiting on me to yell at you its not going to happen. Sure you made a mistake today. But you also did something very right. You assessed your surroundings, knew you were outmatched, and you got to safety.” 
You pouted, “Yeah but you would have stayed and kicked all their asses.” 
He smirked, “Well you aren't me. And I’m thankful every day that you're not. I’m reckless and impulsive and proud. I also have a quirk that can blow people up and you don't. I’m very proud of you for getting yourself to safety. Deku on the other had is a pussy for not going in there. He totally could have handled that on his own.” 
You slapped his chest, “Hey are you saying I couldn't have handled it?!” 
He grabbed your hand before you could slap him again, “I’ve never lied to you and I’m not going to start now... No. I don't think you could have right now. There is not doubt in mind that in a few years you will though. You improve every day and you have this drive to do better that almost rivals my own. Just give yourself time. You’ll get there. I know you will.”
******
After that first day you settled into a routine. You’d come home and shower while Katsuki made dinner. Sometimes he’d be on night shift but he would leave food ready for you in the microwave. You’d tell him how many times you got Deku to nerd rant and he would tell you how many times he got Denki to short circuit. It was nice.... Until one day it wasn't. 
It had only been three weeks since you changed partners. You and Deku had a graveyard shift and so far it had been pretty quiet. You were just about to text Bakugo to see if he was awake and if he could bring you some coffee, but then you heard it. A blood curling scream. 
It sounded pretty close and out of instinct you started teleporting around to try and find its source. You don't even remember saying anything to Deku, You just acted. This is exactly the kind of thing Bakugo begged you not to do. But you couldn't help it. Someone out there needs your help. 
You teleported two or three times before you found the source. The sight made your stomach sink. Human traffickers. 
There was at least 12 goons by the look of it all trying to shove girls of all ages, shapes and sizes into a truck. And standing off to the side was Dabi and Shigaraki. Shit this is connected with the league of villains. You sent your location to Deku with a short “need backup. LOV threat 12+.” 
You knew you needed to wait for backup but you also couldn't let them leave. Another scream rang out and you saw a crying girl probably around the age of fourteen on the ground trying to crawl away as one of the goons grabbed her ankle and roughly dragged her back. That was it. You couldn't watch this. 
You teleported over behind the goon who was dragging her. You tapped his shoulder before teleporting to the other side of him. When he turned back around you punched him in the throat before brining your elbow down on his forearm with a loud crack breaking the arm that was holding the girls ankle. You scooped her up quickly, “RUN! Get out of here!” 
You teleported into the truck and grabbed another girl before teleporting her as far as you could and telling her the same. You continued to do this three more times before they caught on to you. 
You weren't even ready as a strong arm wrapped around your waist pulling you out of the truck, “I GOT HER!” 
You were pinned to the hood of the truck by someone who was incredibly strong and you began to panic.You started to struggle, trying to hit anything you could. “Let go of me!” 
Your attacker grabbed the back of your head and slammed it into the truck and you vision blurred. NO! You need to stay awake. You continued to try and squirm out of his grip when suddenly it was gone completely. 
“WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU THINK YOU’RE DOING!”
You would know that irritated voice anywhere. You were forced to turn around to face a very angry blonde. “You’re lucky Deku called me! You were about thirty seconds away from being one those poor girl chained up in that truck. Fucking Stupid! Do you even now what you just ran into. Look around.” 
You looked around and saw that there was actually a lot more than 12 villains and it was now an all out battle. There was at lest five other heros that had shown up to help. 
His hand came up to your head to check the now bleeding wound on you’re forehead, “You need to get out of here. You have a head wound and I don't want you to try to use your quirk with it. You’re probably already a little dizzy and I don't think holding your breath is going to help.” 
You gritted your teeth, “No! I started this. I’m going to keep getting these girls to safety.” 
An explosion rang out as he blew up a villain that had tried to sneak up on you, “Y/n would you please for once fucking listen to me!” 
You shoved him away from you, “No you fucking listen to me! I’m going to get these girls out of here. Now how about you let me do my fucking job and and you do yours and watch my back.” 
His nostrils flared but he knew now wasn't the time for an argument, “UGH FINE!” You nodded before hopping back into the truck and grabbing the first girl you could grab and teleporting away. There was already a hero waiting for you when you appeared on the other side to make sure the girls got away safely. You kept doing this over and over again. 
You honestly were getting dizzy, and a little nauseous. But you just kept telling yourself it was just a concussion and to push through it. You had successfully gotten all thirty seven girls out but when you came back what you saw made your blood run cold. The heros were losing. There was just too many villains. 
You heard a frustrated growl to your right and you saw Katsuki being tossed into a wall. He was taking too long to get back up. 
He was exhausted. His leg was likely broken. His head was spinning from the exertion of having to constantly use his quirk. It had been nonstop fighting for the past half an hour. He had to keep going though. He had to protect you. He struggled to get up after that last blow, but he was only up to his knees when he looked up and saw a gun pointed at his head. “Fucking coward! Hiding behind a gun!” He heard the gun be cocked into place, he heard the trigger being pulled not once, not twice, but three times, but worst of all, he heard that noise. That noise he usually loves. The one that means you just teleported into his apartment... 
“NO!” But it was too late. You had teleported between him and the gunman. Taking the bullets in the stomach. Bakugo sent an explosion that was so large it likely killed the bastard who shot you. Then you were falling backwards, your vision starting to blur. 
You were in Bakugo's arms but you don't know how you got there, “Hey baby look at me. Hey open your eyes y/n. You’re going to be okay... I’m going to get you out of here. Y/n please! Y/n...” 
Your hand came up to cup his cheek, “I.... got them.... out....” 
Tears were streaming down his face now, “I know you did baby, you did such a good job now I need you to just hold on for me okay! More heros are on their way! You just need to hold on a little longer...” 
You started to slip away, a single tear running down your cheek, “I... love you Katsuki.” And then you closed your eyes. 
But before you were completely unconscious you heard the most gut wrenching, angry scream. 
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looselucy · 5 years
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The Forgotten Feeling
July 1st I stood with my arms folded, pretending to be unimpressed just to see the look on my dads face, like my approval was the very last thing he was waiting on before he put an offer in on a place that was really perfect for him, scared of my disapproval. “You hate it, don’t you?” He winced. I couldn’t keep up the act any longer, a giant smile teeming with mischief finally cracking across my face. “I love it.” I admitted. “You cheeky fucker.” He whacked my arm lightly. “You had me worried then!”
“You’re so easy to wind up.” I sniggered. “Genuinely, it’s lovely. I love it. Get a bloody move on before someone else snaps it up.” We were less than an hour out of Rosebury, which was perfect as far as I was concerned. My main worry was that he would have been hours away, but our trip to the viewing that morning had felt like nothing whatsoever. My car hadn’t even struggled, which was a miracle given the state of it, but proof of just how close he would be. The town he’d chosen was a little bigger than Rosebury, with a bit more going on, somewhere where he could really build a new life and find ways to pass the time, find new habits, new friends, new passions. I was excited for him. “Are you sure?” He seemed hesitant. “Of course I’m sure. You really don’t have to worry about me, dad, I promise. I want this for you.” It was understandable why he was convinced I’d want him to stick around, because I’d been encouraging him to move back to Rosebury for some time before he actually did. But that was before I actually saw him there, recognized what living in that village did to him. It wasn’t healthy. I wanted him to leave, which wouldn’t have even made sense to me a year earlier, but times had changed. “Come on, let’s get it done. Gotta head back soon anyway.” I took a deep breath in. “I’ve got a date.” “Is that tonight?” He seemed so happy for me, so sweet as we headed down the stairs towards the front door. “Mhm.” “And how’re you feeling about it?” “Okay, I think, yeah.” I nodded. “Sort of excited. Kinda nervous.” “Good. I think it’s good to be nervous.” “Yeah, I think so too. And I dunno what he has planned for me, which is cute. He wants to take me out of Rosebury, but other than that I’m clueless.” I was heading into the evening with an open mind, feeling positive, strangely calm even with my nerves. In all honesty, it was nice to have something to distract me from my time with Julia, which was something I’d had a hard time moving on from. Even though being around her and talking with her had been curiously constructive, even nice in some ways, it had also been incredibly draining and upsetting. She’d stayed in my shop with me for some time, until we both felt we were in a fit enough state to face the rest of the day. We’d spoke about Harry a little more, the two of us fretting over his general welfare, asking questions that neither of us had the answer to. The main thing I had established was that she wanted to see him again, maybe even more than he wanted to see her. She asked me about Jack, too. If I knew him. I hadn’t known what to say, how I could answer her. Thankfully, she seemed much more aware of what was going on in Jack’s life than she was Harry’s, even telling me it hadn’t been too long since she last saw him. She told me how one time when he was arrested, he managed to reach her, asked her for a place to stay, promised he’d changed, that he wanted to be better. He’d all but emptied her bank account only a few days later, taking what little she had for himself and disappearing. She told me it had happened the previous April, and I knew in my heart that Jack had headed straight from his mother to Harry, robbing from the two of them in a matter of days. I didn’t say it but I knew it. Harry had never really told me about what Jack had said to him when he’d broken into his house that night, all I knew was that he’d gotten into his head and planted so much doubt and misery there that Harry had retreated, cowered backwards into a state where he daren’t find his mother, daren’t speak. Jack had known exactly what to say to ensure that his little brother experienced both mental and physical pain. He made sure to leave a trail of damage behind simply because he knew had the power to do so; for no other reason than because he could. Maybe he’d said he’d been with their mother, lied to Harry and said she wanted nothing to do with him. Maybe it was something else. I knew I’d never get the answers I desired, but knowing Julia and Jack had been together so soon before Jack found Harry, it got me thinking. Jack wasn’t like Harry. He had no desire to change, no good in his heart that told him what was right and what was wrong. He didn’t deserve anyone’s forgiveness, and nor was he asking for it, even when he said he was. And though I knew Julia had wanted to find Harry, I imagined that being in touch with Jack and seeing how he hadn’t changed, how he’d worsened, would make her question whether or not seeking Harry was the right thing. It would only be natural for her to feel that way. I’d spoken so highly of her youngest that I hoped all qualms and hesitations had been erased. Before she left, we had exchanged numbers, hoping to one day relay good news when it came to Harry, his wellbeing, his whereabouts, but I didn’t feel confident that we’d ever get back in touch with each other unless she was to visit my store again one day. I was trying not to think about it. “Let me go talk to the estate agent, see what my next move should be.” My dad said as we headed outdoors. The money he’d managed to save when hoping to keep Rita in that home for another year meant he had more than enough money for a good mortgage on the house he was interested in, which was one less thing to worry about. I waited on the sidelines as they spoke things through, looking up and down the busy street, cars zipping by every few seconds, and it was already so different to Rosebury simply because of the general atmosphere. I was positive it was going to be good for him there. Really good. My dad approached me a few minutes later, a big smile on his face. “M’gunna follow him in the car, go to the estate agents. Do you have time to come with? I’m not sure how long it’ll be.” “Um, I should probably head off, really. Prep myself for this date.” “Mentally or physically?” He laughed. “Um… Probably more mental, to be honest.” He leaned inwards, gave me a quick hug and a kiss right on the top of my head, his sweet sendoff. “Thanks for coming.” “Anytime.” “And don’t feel any pressure, alright?” He said, taking a few cautious steps backwards. “If it’s not right, it’s not right, and that’s okay.” “Meaning?” “Meaning…” He took a few seconds, thought carefully about his words. “If your heart isn’t in it, there might be a good reason for that. It takes a long time for a heart to heal, and that’s nothing to be ashamed of. And if it doesn’t feel right… well, it’s best to be honest. With yourself and with him.” “I… I think you might be overthinking it, dad.” I tried. “Good. I hope so. I’m just saying.” He was still smiling like he had the whole thing figured out. “See you soon.” We bid our farewells and then he was gone, leaving me stood questioning whether or not he was onto something, whether I’d been thinking that moving on within myself must involve moving on with someone new. My dad wasn’t the only one who was overthinking.
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“This place is really fancy.” I whispered, snuggling down into my seat once our waitress had taken our orders. “Yeah, I think it’s maybe too fancy. I might have made a mistake. It’s definitely a level of fancy that we, as people, are not at.” It wasn’t that I was uncomfortable, not really, maybe just unfamiliar. We were in a town I didn’t know, in a restaurant I’d never been to with prices so extortionate I wondered if there might be little pieces of gold sprinkled onto the top of our food. Familiar suited me, always had. I’d grown up in the same place, barely left, been surrounded by the same people, had the same job since I was nineteen. I guess that was one of the reasons I felt okay about being there with Lincoln; that lovely familiarity which I’d always enjoyed so much. Even at our strangest, our least conversant, I still felt bizarrely at ease around him; safe, almost. Before our meal, he’d taken me to a little place where they had beer-pong tables set up, having a quick couple of matches and knocking some drinks back to ready us for the evening. “I think the beer-pong was more on our level.” I confessed. “I’d suggest we just go back but I’m starving.” He wheezed. “I asked for a recommendation from a lad I work with, one of the other coaches. He said it’s unreal here, and to be honest, he’s not even fancy.” I giggled jauntily, looking down like I was afraid to hold eye contact for too long, wishing I still had a menu to peruse because at least that had given me a good excuse. We hadn’t kissed since our time by the lake over a week prior, and even then it was brief, a way of testing the waters we were treading. “Well, uh… thanks for inviting me.” “Thanks for coming.” He said diffidently. “I’ve been… nervous.” “Yeah?” “You don’t give much away.” His smile was timorous, sheepish. “I literally… I can’t read you.” He seemed almost intimidated, in a way. It was endearing. “Well, what do you wanna know?” “Everything. I wanna know everything.” I already felt as though Lin knew all there was to know, but deep down I knew that wasn’t the case. There are some things it seems your soul saves, making sure you only share with certain people in certain moments, our absolute truths. He’d been in my life very closely for a long time, but there was still so much left to learn. There were sections of my soul he had never seen, and from the look in his eyes then I could see that he wanted nothing more than to experience that epiphany. So we just started talking. We talked and talked without even pausing for breath. When our meals came, they seemed to be pushed aside to make way for the conversations we were having, laughing, sharing, opening up to each other. Our conversations were idle, thoughtful, needless, necessary. We covered so much ground that we wound up sitting there for hours, as contented and calm around one another as we always had been. The only problem I found was that I practically forgot we were on a date. I didn’t feel worried, or apprehensive, or giddy. I was simply sitting with Lin and it was nothing. No matter how much we talked, how much we learnt, how much I enjoyed myself, I knew he wasn’t seeing parts of me saved for a special few, and I wasn’t seeing those parts of him. Everything was so ordinary, standard. I didn’t feel that pull, that excitement, that spark. That familiarity I loved so much was working against us. It wasn’t that I was expecting some grand moment, not on our first date, but I wanted something that I realised I wasn’t getting. It happened in our moments silence, when the bill was handed over to us, the staff practically on the verge of kicking us out since we were the last ones in there; that’s when it happened. I felt like seeing Harry’s mum had thrown me off the steady course I had been walking for the past few months. He was back to being at the forefront of my mind and it made things so fucking difficult. There never seemed to be any closure. When he left after my mother’s funeral, I thought that was it. I knew he was leaving and I knew I wouldn’t see him again, and that should have been enough but it wasn’t and I was only just beginning to realise that. There were too many factors, too many questions left unanswered. Even the way he was before he left, the way we’d kissed, the things he’d said, the way I could literally feel that he didn’t want to leave, his reluctance heavy upon my chest. I wanted to close the door on us so badly, to shut him out, cease my uncertainties, but it was harder than I thought it would be. “Alf?” I heard Lin talk, but didn’t move. “Alfie?” “Hm?” I shot my head up. “You alright? You kinda… disappeared there, for a second.” “Sorry. I’m fine. Sorry.” “What’s wrong?” It was time to be honest, even if I didn’t fully know what being honest would entail. He deserved as much. So did I. “Do you know how you feel about me?” I asked. “What?” “Do you… have a good grasp on how you feel about me? About all of this?” “I… Yeah, I think I do. Why? Do you… Do you not?” He already seemed crushed, not wanting to hear my answer at the same time as needing to know how I’d been feeling. “Uh… I dunno. It’s like I’m waiting for this moment of clarity, but it’s not happening.” I admitted gloomily. “I still feel… really unsure of what I want and how I feel and it’s pissing me off.” Though he grinned, there was a sadness in his eyes that he couldn’t quite hide, clearing his throat and looking down to the table before he answered me. “Well, y’know… we’ve been friends for a long time. I think it’d be weird if it did just… switch like that. Maybe it’ll take some time.” “Is that how you feel?” “Uh…” He was awkward, shifting in his seat, messing with his hair. “I’ve… Personally, I’ve thought about this for a while, so it’s different for me. I think I was pretty set on it, to be honest.” “So… How do you feel? What’s going on in your head?” “I’m having a good time. I’m enjoying your company, and like… I think you’re amazing. I love spending time with you. If we could do this every night, that’s me happy.” I smiled, weirdly feeling a similar way. We’d had such a lovely evening, I really didn’t have a bad word to say about it, even now we’d seen the bill. But that didn’t mean romance to me. “Do you worry that… we don’t have a spark?” I asked guardedly. “I think if there was no spark at all, we wouldn’t be here, right?” He seemed to be asking rather than telling me. “M’starting to doubt myself a bit though. If you don’t wanna be here-” “I do, that’s the thing! I do wanna be here, and I’ve had the best night tonight. This is the happiest I’ve been for… fucking months, but… I dunno. I think I’m waiting on that rushed feeling.” “But you’re not getting it.” He couldn’t look at me, voice low, dejected. It pained me to answer him, but I thought about my fathers’ words earlier, about honesty, and even though it wasn’t the easiest option, I knew it was the best. “No.” I wanted to cry. “M’sorry. I wish I was, but…” “Okay.” He took a deep breath in, sucked it right into his chest to the point where his posture changed completely, sitting upright and rolling his shoulders. “M’kinda worried that… something’s holding you back. Like maybe you’re too lost in your head with it. I mean… it’s fine, if you’re not feeling it, I get it. But I just… I don’t want that to be because you’re holding yourself back, y’know? I get that there’s bound to be reservations, we’ve been friends for so fucking long, I get it. But I think we’ve really gotta let it happen naturally and not… think about it too much. Or maybe I’m just… fucking forcing it, I dunno. I just wanted this to work so much and-” “No, I get it. I do. You might be right, y’know. I’ve… definitely overthought a few things. Shit, this whole thing is such a head fuck.” I groaned. “And I wanna try and I wanna put the effort in and see how it goes, but I also don’t wanna feel like I’m dragging this out and giving you false hope if I’m not set on it and I just… I’m so fucking annoyed with myself.” My frustration cultivated from the knowledge that what he said could have been completely true. I’d thought about it so much and linked it to different things and questioned every inch of it to the point where I was bound to be doubting myself, doubting what was happening. There may have been a good reason behind it, but it also might have just been complete nonsense that was bred simply from my whirring mind being unable to rest. There had been a time when I’d overthought things with Harry, calling an end to it before it had even began, and to look back that seemed so strange to me. Maybe this was a similar thing. The only difference was that even when I’d tried to put a stop to things with Harry, after our first time together and in the early hours of New Year’s Day, something always brought me back to him, this benevolent energy pulling us together, some higher force willing our souls to intertwine. That was lacking with Lin. I sat in silence, wishing away the migraine my thoughts were causing. “Can I kiss you again?” He asked tenderly. “I really wanna fucking kiss you.” “Lin, why the hell do you wanna kiss me after all the shit I’ve just said?” “Because I do.” He shrugged, like it was nothing. “We can find our spark. We’ve just gotta… let it happen. We’ve gotta allow it to happen. I mean, I feel it. But I get it, if you’ve got a guard up. It makes sense, after everything that happened with Sam, but… Yeah. I dunno.” I nodded. Strangely enough, I didn’t blame Sam for how guarded I was. I suppose I hadn’t really thought of myself as guarded at all until he said that. I hadn’t thought that might be one of the many reasons why I was unsure. The demise of me and Harry was the reason for my hesitancy. The pain he’d caused was more substantial and rooted than anything I’d known before, a sign of just how deeply I had loved him. “So can I kiss you?” He asked, the happiness returning to his eyes, which sparked a happiness in me. My nod was small and rapid, shy as he stood himself up to lean across the table, leaving me to do little of the work as I leant forward just slightly so he could reach me, placing his hands in my hair, right against the back of my head, ushering me that bit closer so he could place his lips upon mine, the two of us still smiling a little at first, and then we eased into it, Lin knocking over a wine glass as we lost ourselves. It was nice not completely over-analyse that moment, and instead simply enjoy it.
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July 2nd “Morning!” I greeted Louis with a giant smile as I let myself into the shop, feeling good, feeling fresh. “Hey!” He seemed shocked by my presence. “Thought you were gunna rock up late today?” “Ah, yeah well me and Lin didn’t get as drunk as I imagined we might.” I’d told Louis not to expect me until the afternoon, predicting that Lincoln and I would be having one too many drinks in order to get through our date contentedly, but that hadn’t been the case at all. I figured I might as well turn up to work a few hours earlier than anticipated. “How was it?” Louis asked, stood a little rigidly in the middle of the shop floor as I edged around him to get behind the counter, ready myself for the day. “Uh… it was fine.” I sighed but smiled. “It was really nice, I don’t have a bad word to say about any of it, especially him.” “But?” He raised his brows. “I’m not thinking about the but right now.” I held my hand up as though literally blocking his words. “All I’m thinking about is the fact I had a nice night. I need to do less thinking.” “Okay.” He sniggered, turning on his spot so he was facing me. “Uh, so a weird thing happened this morning.” It was immediately obvious to me that he was too distracted by whatever had gone on to grill me on my date with Lin. I figured that was why he seemed tense, strange. “What’s up?” “Uh, not much. Just a bit of a mix up with a delivery. Sort of. The thing is… Shit. C’mon, I’ll just show you.” He cleared his throat and began leading me towards the back room, where we kept the kettle, a few bottles of wine we usually used for tasting, and every other bit of rubbish and half used item we didn’t know what else to do with. It was messy but charming in there. “I didn’t even know we had a delivery due today.” I mumbled as I followed him. “That’s the thing, we didn’t! I just kinda predicted it was a delivery for the shop,” He was rambling. “But it was actually a delivery for you. So, I’m sorry, I opened it. I’m really sorry, I genuinely didn’t have a clue, I thought it was a new sign for over the door and-” “Louis, I don’t care! It’s fine!” I chuckled. “Just… Don’t freak out, okay?” He cringed with his fingers grasped around the handle, leaving me only a second to panic over his words before he swung the door open and revealed what had gotten him into such a state. “What… the fuck.” I whispered. I felt sick. My head was spinning and my stomach churning, blinking as though what I’d seen might disappear, like I’d imagined it. Because propped up against the desk on the floor right in front of me, was an infamous piece of work, one I never thought I’d see with my own eyes. It was Harry’s painting. His Blood Sun. Dizzily, I approached it, waiting until I was just a few inches away before I practically fell down to my knees, reaching and stroking my fingers across the paint, looking up and down and over every inch of in an attempt to make sense of what I was seeing, an attempt to appreciate the splendour beneath my trace. Fuck, it was beautiful. It was so fucking beautiful I thought I was going to cry. It was so much bigger than I had ever imagined it to be, standing taller than me even when I was on my feet and wider than my arms could reach. The paint protruded victoriously from the canvas, some parts sharp, others smooth. The colours were remarkably stimulating, so bright that they were emerging from the canvas, budding outwards to meet me, as though they had a complete life of their own and I was their goddess, their colours a quiet prayer that whispered from between the linen and blessed my ears. It felt like an honour to become so well acquainted with its true exquisiteness; to actually touch a masterpiece. It was striking, astounding, alluring, substantial and profound, utterly dazzling in its beauty. I abruptly fully understood why this certain painting had received the reaction it had, because it was wholly overwhelming and entirely consuming. I kept one hand on the canvas, the other covering my mouth, spellbound. “Uh, so I don’t know about you,” Louis mumbled from behind me. “But I am freaking the fuck out about this.” “There’s no way this is the real thing.” I whipped my head around to him. “There’s just no way.” “Alfie, who the fuck are you kidding? Of course it’s the real thing.” He scalded as I turned back to face the piece. “And seriously, I googled it just before you got here, and the last offer he got was dangerously close to a million and he turned it down.” “What the fuck? What the fuck?” “That was only a few weeks ago. He knew he was gunna send it to you. He must have. Do you realise how much fucking money is sitting right in front of you?” “This shouldn’t be here. This should be in a fucking… museum, I don’t know! What the fuck was he thinking?” I was genuinely in a state of shock. I couldn’t think of a reason why he’d send me that painting, because the only thing I could think at that time was how I’d told him I didn’t want paintings that derived from his pain; I didn’t want paintings with blood, and this painting had more blood than any of his others. Three years of literal blood, sweat and tears had been put into the painting before me. I didn’t know what I was supposed to think, how I was supposed to feel. “Was there an address on it?” I turned back to Louis. “No.” “But… But if it’s international, there has to be!” I cried, talking more to myself. “That means he’s in the country, right? That means he’s home!” “I dunno. I dunno how that stuff works. God knows where he is.” I got back to my feet, inspected the top of the painting closely, unable to stop myself from touching the piece. Despite the sinister reasons he was a physical part of that painting, I still felt this overwhelming sense of him, his body and soul, aware that it was the closest I’d been to him in some time. “Why would he send me this?” I whispered. “There’s a note.” Louis’ voice was deadpan, cautious. “What?” “He attached a note for you.” “Wh-what does it say?” He took a step back, reaching to the counter to pick up a small slip of thick paper that he must have placed there earlier, nervous to pass it over to me but knowing he had to. Before I’d even looked at the words he’d written I was crying. I knew in that exact moment that even though I wanted to, I wasn’t ready to move on. My heart was still aching, still lost within this space he had created, a place where it still somehow felt safe in spite of everything. I’d had given him my heart the day I told him I loved him and never claimed it back. Shaking, I took the note from Louis’ hand, biting ruthlessly at my bottom lip, vision blurry but unable to block the few words he had handwritten carefully for me to see. Thank you for helping me heal. Yours, Harry. That was it. No more, no less. And suddenly it made sense, why he’d passed the painting onto me. He had struggled inordinately when it came to selling that painting; it harboured so much meaning for him and yet so much agony. It was almost his way of grounding himself, tying himself to a certain feeling, a negativity, a pain. His heartbreak had been homed in that painting, making his feelings towards it so intricate he’d never quite known what to do. I had truly thought that the day he felt he could finally sell that painting would be a day of growth, a time in which he could finally move forward, finally start to come to terms with his father’s death, and it seemed that day had finally arrived. He had reached the point I had been longing for him to reach, and it was evident that he felt I was largely to thank for that. That was why he’d gifted it to me. I held the note to my chest, tears rolling peacefully down my cheeks. And even though being without him was still tearing me apart, I finally knew he was finding his happiness. I finally knew that the suffering he had endured for years was waning, tumultuous clouds bearing brash bolts of light making way for serene skies. It was the first time I’d felt truly at ease since he’d left. It was as though that painting didn’t merely bring peace to him, but also to me. I’d forgotten that feeling, but it ruptured within me then, as bright and compelling as the paint upon the canvas he had given me. And somehow, that was enough.
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homestuck-kinstuff · 4 years
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ah, i figured. that's alright. could i request a tarot reading for my dirkroxysprite^2 tl? all i know is I was created from rose's sprite, roxysprite, and dave's, dirksprite. I came into existence pretty late into the game, and I know i made it out to earth C. Roxy and Dirk made it out as separate people as well. (does that make sense? dirk, roxy, and me, dirkroxysprite^2, all existed on earth c) I also know i had a crush on John, and really cared about him. thank you so much in advance!
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Hello Dirkroxysprite^2,
First off, I'm terribly sorry for my tardiness on replying to this one, life had unfortunately gotten in the way of things. Of course you can have a reading. 💜
Please mind the cut below:
Beginning
Page of Wands, Reversed:
The beginning of your existence, when you were first formed as Dirkroxysprite^2, was marked by a distinct lack of direction. Any desires or machinations that either party had in the works was halted completely.
There’s a strong sense of negativity associated with this card, along with a feeling of being caged. When you first came to be, it may not have been a catastrophic event, but it certainly wasn't welcome.
Middle
Death, reversed:
Death represents a major, life-altering change in your life. Reversed as it is here, Death indicates that you are afraid of this change, and are doggedly resisting it as a result.
It's likely this resistance stemmed mainly from your union. Things likely began to stagnate for you at this point in your timeline, as you refused to move forward and do what you needed to in order to continue.
Towards the End of your Timeline
Temperance, Reversed:
Temperance is all about balance. Reversed as it is, Temperance embodies the absolute lack of it.
This point of your life was likely defined by excess, living in extremes. You likely struggled to balance different aspects of your life, whether that be with one core issue of perhaps overindulgence, or many little issues swinging wildly out of control.
This card also implies a powerful, sharp focus on your part. However, you've forgotten something major in your quest for excellence.
You
The Lovers, Upright:
Not necessarily Romantic Love, this card represents 2 become one, a union rich with trust, confidence and strength.
Deep at your core, it's clear that Dirksprite and Roxysprite loved each other very much. Despite the obvious struggles that come with being sprited with another person, your friendship remained solid and unharmed. Unshakable, through whatever the game threw at you.
There is a difference, however, between being very good friends, and sharing a headspace with another person's every repressed thought, trauma, and insecurity. A struggle with this is natural, so I don't expect all the memories of yourself and your union to be good or easy. Just that your bond was stronger than all of that.
Challenges
Two of Pentacles, Upright:
This card represents balance, and the ability to adapt to change. It implies that rapid change has become your new norm, and that addressing and coping with these changes is essential.
You struggled with change, and you found it very difficult to strike a balance in the middle of the chaos. Considering the nature of spritehood, and the fact that you were, at best, 16(?) Years old, and at worst, less than 1: I don't find this all too shocking.
How you Faced Those Challenges
Ten of Swords, Reversed:
The Ten of Swords represents a betrayal that is deep and personal. Reversed as it is, the focus is shifted from the betrayal itself, to the recovery. The wounds are still fresh, but you understand that this needed to happen in order for you to move forward.
It's possible this betrayal came from yourself, one of your halves doing something unexpected because of the lack of harmony or balance. It's also possible the disharmony caused a betrayal by a friend (pushed by your action or inaction to lash out) or another party (an enemy noticing a weakness and exploiting it).
Regardless, this betrayal brought into sharp focus the balance you were lacking, and forced to to take action on it.
The End
The World, Reversed:
Near the end of your journey, when you were just a breath away from accomplishing everything you set out to do, at the last second something is standing in the way of success and celebration. Something has been left undone.
It's possible this overlooked issue had something to do with S'Burb, and you, being a sprite, may have been one of the few able to go back and correct it. This may have been what brought about your end. It's also possible that the end of your journey was simply your deathbed, and you left the world feeling both empty and heavy with unfinished business.
Your relationship with John
King of Pentacles, Reversed:
The King of Pentacles is a man of great worldly indulgence. Reversed as he is, it is a sign that you may have been indulging a touch too much. It indicates a tendency towards temptation, and sensuality, with a touch of greed.
With regard to our dear Jonathan Eggbutt, it's possible that you were indulging in his company. You mentioned a crush, it's possible he was unavailable in some way, (perhaps already dating someone) but you kept spoiling yourself with his company.
Another possibility is that John was the cause of your indulgences, and not the indulgence itself. He may have encouraged you to live more lavishly, and you took it to the extreme. Or perhaps you leaned on these worldly indulgences to cope with the fact(?) that he was preoccupied with someone else.
However, I must stress the nature of this card is negative. This relationship likely wasn't very good for you.
John's Relationship with You
Judgement, Upright:
Judgement is impartial, honest. It often signifies an honest evaluation of the self is needed. This self reflection will give rise to an awakening which will bring forth an entirely new way of life.
It's possible John found great comfort speaking with you about deep personal matters. John might have made a habit of bearing his soul to you, on lonely nights or bleak-seeming afternoons. If this were the case, it meant a great deal to him.
It's also possible he hid this deep self reflection from you, but that the crux of this contemplation had to do directly with you. Perhaps a sexuality, or gender crisis. Perhaps he was conflicted about an action you took in your timeline.
Five of Wands, Upright:
This card represents a battle between rivals, of an intense struggle for dominance. However, it implies that this battle is a show for power, to intimidate. There is no real threat in the struggle.
It's possible you may have been a little too eager to jump into verbal or physical battles to prove yourself. If this is the case, John easily saw through these displays.
It's also possible you may have enjoyed debating with John. Verbal (or perhaps physical) spars that may have looked to others like you took things too far, but John knew it was mostly for show.
Nine of Pentacles, Upright:
This is a lovely card, indicating a time of opulence and luxury after a period of hard work. There’s a great deal of satisfaction, and emotional stability in this card, and it's implied that the fruits of this particular labor are those that can be enjoyed over a lifetime.
You were a big part of what made Earth C wonderful to John. He enjoyed relishing in the rewards of this new world with you.
Advice
Six of Wands, Upright:
This card marks a journey from home initiated by past sorrows. You're leaving a painful place to explore an unknown with more promise.
You've suffered in your current situation. It's scary for to consider leaving, scary to venture into the unknown where the promise, the good is not guaranteed, but you owe it to yourself to take the risk.
You owe it to yourself to have an adventure. There is nothing good for you back there, and sometimes, the risk can be it's own reward.
Three of Pentacles, Upright:
Teamwork, collaboration, building. Several people of vastly varying backgrounds and skills working together to further a cause greater than them. Unity is easy, and progress is swift.
People want to hear what you have to say. They find value in your company, Dixy. They value what you say, what you think. But you have to do the same. You can do incredible things, if you reach out, spread the weight of the task. Give yourself the chance.
Ace of Swords, Reversed:
This is a card that has 2 main meanings. It can mean swift and brutal misuse of incredible power, (which I don't think applies here) or, it can mean you've overlooked a vital piece of information.
I've a similar theme in this reading, in the section 'Towards the End' and 'The End.' I'd recommend doing a little meditation to see if you can glean some more information on this.
As always, you would know better than I. These are your memories, not mine. If it doesn't feel right, it likely isn't. If any part of this reading doesn't strike a chord with you, I'd heartily recommend looking into the meaning of the card in question yourself. Tarot cards have many meanings, and another interpretation may make more sense to you. 💜
Thank you for your patience with this, I hope it’s helped you knock a few more memories loose.
Kind Regards,
🌹Mod Rose🌹
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Note
obi finding kiki's scars, like under her arm braces, or wherever you like (big eyes emoji)
Prompts are currently closed while I catch up. I will announce when I am open! :)
A/N: Again, I am here, trying to work through my promptpile by offering you another sneak peak of a WIP. This time, it’s from a futurereveal or hidden scene of Best Laid Plans. 
Pairing: Kikiobi
Content warning: Reference to sex, adults making stupiddecisions while drunk, and frank discussions of past self-harm/cutting.
Mornings, as her father would tell anyone, have never beenKiki’s strongest suit. For a girl raised in the country, she was downright allergicto them, thriving only when her father sent her to the city or adjusting thewhole households schedule for her benefit. The days seemed brighter when shecould stay abed until noon, the nights more tolerable when she could hone herblade by moonlight.
Come dawn, though- Well, the early hours were made for the birds. And she was no bird.
She had gotten better with age, though, much to her father’s and Izana’s pleasure. Mitsuhide’s Sereg upbringing and total patience was capable of training even an owl to rise with the sun. He kept his voice soft, prompting both Zen and her into quiet contemplation, prodding them with the simplest of questions until they fully awoke, but still-
She hated them.
This morning might take first place for the worst among them, though. Groggy, her eyesbarely open through the crust of sleep gluing them together, only to slam shutthe moment light meets them.
Mother’s milk and father’s porridge, what was in that drink last night?
Moaning, Kiki rubs her face against soft bedding, handstangling in her own hair and finding a mess. Flopping, she turns on her side,away from the window, and glances down at her body.
Her clothes are gone.
Obi must’ve been here, then.
He’s not here now, though, and both her bed and her fireplaceis cold. Squinting at the clock ticking far too loudly upon the mantle, shegroans at the thought of waiting for two more hours for the maids to show upwhen all she needs is a simple drink of water. So she gets her arms underneathher, pushes herself up-
-and hisses when she’s rewarded with a sharp painshooting straight from her wrist to her elbow.
She’s already lowered herself back to the bed when shehears a familiar voice drawl, “I wouldn’t do that if I were you. You weren’texactly kind to it last night.”
Dragging her head across her pillow, Kiki flinches whenlight briefly blinds her, the familiar silhouette of Obi crawling through herwindow coming into relief.
“What are you doing?” she asks, her voice more muffled cloth than actual human words.
“Helping!” he chirps, grin on his face and really- Hermemories are a fog, broken pieces scattered by sensation and noise, but eachone that floats to the surface tells her that her behavior was barelyacceptable last night, even by Obi’s feeble standards. And yet still, he wavesa bucket and a nondescript bag of… something in her direction like he’s nothere to dispatch her. “I am a decent hand at first aid unless you want to explainour little adventure last night to Miss.”
Wincing, she flops her hand in his general direction.“Close the window. You’re letting in a chill.”
His smile thins, but he pullsthe pane shut, closing the curtain so the room reaches a level of dark that istolerable. Her eyes flutter shut gratefully. “Thank you.”
As always, he is quiet, crossing the room with thatunearthly silence that makes him more ghost than flesh and blood. It would bedisconcerting if she did not know him. Even more if he did not make apoint to allow the bucket and bag to make something of a sound when he set themon the bedside table.
“How’s your head?” he asks, hushed.
“Horrible,” she replies, and is pleased when that earnsher a little laugh.
“Yes, well,” he sighs. “Next time get something a littleless poisonous.”
“I was going off the seller’s recommendation,” sheprotests.
“For what? An early grave?” Liquid sloshes into acontainer somewhere near her head. “Water?”
“Oh gods, yes.” Peaking a single eye open, Kiki wraps herhand around the cool glass being pressed to her. She sips, careful because she’s not such a fool that she thinks her stomach is in muchbetter shape than her head. “Thank you.”
He hums, pulling the cup from her hand, and she is justdrifting off, just being pulled back under when her wrist jostles, the tug oflacings being pulled through leather straps loud in her ears, and she- shepanics.
“Don’t!” she snaps, fully awake as she yanks her handaway. It’s too fast and it jars, white hot pain lacing all the way to hershoulder this time; through each and every finger, too. It, embarrassingly enough, pulls awhimper from her.
The sigh registers through her pain, as do Obi’s mutteredwords about how no wonder miss complains.
“Fine,” he says, and when she opens her eyes again, he is settinga prepared ice pack back in the bucket. “But when your wrist swells up to thesize of a grapefruit and you have to be cut out of that wrist guard, I don’twant to hear any complaints.”
Kiki stares at him, frowning. His profile is sharp, noteven watching her out of the tail of his eye, and she wonders about the natureof words, how people abandon their vocabulary and adopt another’s. Just how manyare his, and how many- how many are- are hers.
Slowly, carefully, she uncoils her arm from itsprotective hold against her chest. “Sorry,” she mutters. “It’s habit.”
He stares at her, the pupils of his strange eyes bleedingwide in the dark, and it’s hard to meet them. Even now. But he doesn’t sayanything. For once in his life, he is silent. Instead, he just reaches out,tugging on the laces. “Let me know if it hurts.”
She doesn’t, even when it does. But he is being gentle with her, moving her arm no more than necessary until he peels the leather backand she lifts so he can pull it out from underneath her.
Cool air touches sweaty skin and Kiki cannot meet hiseyes so she stares at the pale skin, the rooms shadows and little hatch marks ofpink somewhat hiding the silvery lines of white scratching themselves up and downthe soft of her forearm. It’s been a while since she’s seen them last in full light. She wonders if she should count them like prisoner countshis days.
How long will it take him to notice? To say something? Although maybe- maybe he’ll explain it away in his head. Or yell. Or scold. Or leave. Or maybe-
Maybe he just won’t care.
“Sorry,” Obi begins, sitting on the edge of the bed. Takingahold of her elbow, he leads the bone of her forearm to lean against his thigh.And he is silent, spreading some sort of minty poultice leaves warmth over all it touches.
“Does that burn?” he asks.
Slowly shaking her head, Kiki replies, “No. It’s justwarm.”
A smile tugs at the corner of his lips. “Good.”
Riffling through the pack, he pulls out a roll of gauze, unspoolingit before twisting it around her arm. This way and that, smooth and practiced,until her wrist is snugly wrapped.
“Has Shirayuki been giving you lessons?”
He doesn’t flinch at the mention of her name. His faceonly softens in that fond way that has always revealed his deepest secrets.“Not really,” he laughs. “More like I’ve been giving her reason to practice.”
“You should be more careful with yourself,” she tsks, notthat she has any room to judge. It just seems right to say so.
His smile grows more. “You don’t say.”
She watches him work. “You know,” she begins. “You’regood at this.”
He grunts, taping the binding into place. “There we go!”he quips, taping her once on the nose. “That wasn’t too bad, was it?”
Going cross-eyed for a second, she rolls onto her back, andstares at his handiwork.
“When the warmth wears off, you should switch over toicing it, but keep it elevated as much as possible,” Obi says, pulling out the ice pack again toillustrate the point. “I don’t think you’ll need to go to the pharmacy, but ifyou do-”
“You’re not going to say anything about it,are you?”
Obi’s eyes pull wide, mouth dropping into a frown. “Asmuch as I love Miss scolding me, I don’t actively seek it out, no.”
“No,” her lips twitch, before settling once again intosomething more sober. “That’s not- that’s not what I meant.”
“Kiki-jou.” Eyes sliding from her face, Obi lingers atwhat the bandages once again hide. “I’m the last person to judge someone fortheir scars.”
Kiki stares at him, suddenly breathless, and it’s- it’s like the first time she took a punch to the gut. The light headedness. The disorientation and the not-quite pain. How easily he had delivered it, how flawlessly, like he didn’t now hold her darkest secret in the palm of his hand.
“I’m just-“ He coughs, turning to stare at her headboard.“I’m just glad you’re still here. It would have been boring if I never had the chance to meet you.”
“I wasn’t-“ Kiki swallows, searching for her courage andfinding so very little. “I didn’t want to leave,I just-”
He’s staring at her now, and no longer do those eyes lookstrange, something foreign and terrifying like a creature you never would wantto meet in the wood. Instead they look just… curious. Just like she’sexplaining the movement of sword or a formation of an army and it makes iteasy, for once, for her to open her mouth. To give her voice the air and lightneeded to speak it.
“All my life,people have controlled me. My hair. My dress. My posture. Even the cadence and clip of myvoice.” Her throatfeels tight and she wishes he hadn’t taken that water away so quickly. She would like to hide behind it. “Even-even who I was to give my body to, who I was to marry wasn’t mine to choose, not at first. Not until-”
Kiki gestures with her arm, her tongue failing her. Ormaybe her throat just stings too much to allow herself to continue.
“I just- I wanted to be in control. Of just… one thing.”
She represses the urge to flinch when she feels Obi shift onto the mattress, but she jolts when his thumb drags beneath her eye. It pulls back and she’s shocked tosee them come away wet. Just a little.
“Did it work?”
The question gives her pause, more liquid leakingpainlessly from her eyes. “I thought it was, in the beginning,” she admits, surprising herself with her honesty. Tracingthe length of a scar from memory through the gauze, her lips tremble. But thenshe shakes her head. “But no. It didn’t.”
Sighing, Obi pulls himself the rest of the way up and into her bed, propping himselfagainst her headboard. She waits for the longest time for him to speak, andwhen he does, it’s with a level of lightness that she does not expect. 
“I guesswe’re not too different after all,” he says, scratching absently at his chest.
She doesn’t know what to say to that, but one of thoseclever hands of his finds her hair, picking at a gnarl they both earned her in the training yard last night.
“You’re a mess,” he mutters.
Her lips twitch, and her chest is… surprisingly lighter. “My problem seem like less of one whenI look at yours. Or Shirayuki’s,” she says, halfheartedly attempting to bat away his hand.
He bats her back. “Miss would say-“ Obi coughs out a laugh, a wet thingwithout humor. “Miss would say that it doesn’t matter. Our problems are ourproblems. If they’re big to you, then they’re big.”
Kiki looks at him, the softened lines of his face as he bringshis other hand to work on her hair. “That does sound like something she wouldsay.”
Obi peers down at her, his mouth settling into itscustomary grin, and it’s- nice. It’s nice to know that she didn’t ruineverything. “You’re still have to answer for last night, you know.”
Face falling, Kiki swallows a sigh. “Can’t I just blame it on the drinkand be done with it?”
“Kiki-jou,” his voice is thick with censure, tugging alittle harder than necessary on a knot. “I never pegged you for aheart-breaker.”
She smiles, a weary thing. 
If only he knew.
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Well, it’s Fic Writer Appreciation Day, so what better time to make a rec list that no one asked for?
These are just a few of my favorites. I definitely haven’t read all of the legendary KiriBaku fics, so I know there are some amazing pieces that I missed. I also limited myself to only 2 per author and 20 total, so I highly recommend checking out some of the other works by some of these authors!
Hopefully all the links and the cut on this works, because it’s gonna be long.
Students at UA
acceptance and denial by @vikingpoteto
It all goes okay when Kirishima decides to come out to his friends and it all goes wrong when decides that Bakugou is the best fake boyfriend material.
G. Fake dating while still at UA. First fic I ever read and I don’t regret it!
Pro Heroes
slow it down (go easy on me) by @newamsterdame
When a confrontation with a villain throws Bakugou through time, he's forced to face a future he never imagined, and maybe something he can't leave behind.
T. The time travel fic that puts all others to shame.
the fool’s rush by @chonideno
Settling down with each other is naturally what comes after being dorm neighbors for years. It’s time to navigate through adulthood together, to live the daily grind of being pro-heroes, to learn more than they thought they’d like to know about each other, about themselves.
T. Mutual pining with a side of hurt/comfort? Yes, please!
Coming Up for Air by @ellieb3an
Kirishima learns to cope with the trauma of having been trapped in his own quirk, and Bakugo helps him through it.
T. I don’t have any commentary to add that wouldn’t be a spoiler. Just know that I REALLY love this one.
Six Page Spread by @indigonow
They're 22 and Bakugou's finally gotten control over his public image. Think more..."bad boy" and less "explosive asshole".
E. Ongoing. At this point, I think every KiriBaku shipper is already reading this one, but it’s too good not to rec!
Black Out by @kiribakurecs
After a fight gone wrong, Bakugou suffers from irreversible amnesia. Kirishima tries to put him back together again.
T. Ongoing. It’s still early in the story, but I was hooked within the first two paragraphs.
Fantasy AU
such a funny pair by @ellieb3an
6-year-old Katsuki runs away from home and forms an unlikely friendship with the dragon hatchling that has been stalking him through the woods.
G. Nothing should be allowed to be this cute. It will melt even the coldest of icy hearts.
The King of the Mountain by @kobonibomibo
Rumors of the barbarian king are easy to come by, but few have actually lived to tell.
U. Nothing explicit happens, just jokes. But holy crap, I was in stitches from laughing.
what’s a secret amongst friends by @electricitylightning
The five times Bakugou nearly finds out Kirishima’s part dragon and the one time he actually does.
T. Chaotic Bakusquad shenanigans in the fantasy AU. What more could I ask for?
Other AUs
but i’ve got an angry heart by @newamsterdame
Bakugou Katsuki is not going to jeopardize his future a second time, and that means staying away from anyone who gets too close. Kirishima Eijirou has never learned how not to be close to someone. Of course, they end up as next-door neighbors.
T. Quirkless college AU. I don’t know what to say. Words cannot convey how much I recommend reading this fic.
neon season by @chonideno
how kirishima and bakugou share food, beds, bodies, and refuse to admit they want it to last
T. Quirkless AU. Fan fic is not an accurate description of what this is. This is a fucking experience. The mood is incredible and the emotions are intense. It’s a must read.
A Meme A Day by PorcelainRose
Kirishima's always been happy to meet people and make new friends. Needless to say, he's ecstatic when he's informed that he's finally getting assigned a roommate after a month of living alone in a dorm room. He's more than happy to welcome his new roommate with a smile and help him out with anything he needs. He isn't expecting, however, to meet a seriously attractive blonde with intense irises that shine with his favorite color, and who he also has trouble keeping his own eyes off of.
T. Ongoing, but updates weekly. Quirkless High School AU. Super cute and low angst, but it is definitely a slow burn. I look forward to this one every week.
Beating in Time by @patster223
To be honest, it never occurs to Kirishima to actually tell Bakugou that he’s a vampire. Bakugou is the most observant guy on the planet; surely he’s already figured it out. Right?
T. Vampire AU. What can I say, I love some high quality hurt/comfort content, and this is definitely it.
you and I might just be the best thing by @vikingpoteto
Kirishima has the bad habit of falling in love with assholes - and then he meets Bakugou.
T. Quirkless College AU. Kirishima is a pining fool and I love him!
will you lead me? by @kiribakus
If the wolf is going to follow Bakugou into town, the least he can do is pretend he's not a wild animal.
T. Werewolf AU. Perfection. The dynamics between the characters are great, the werewolves are done in a way that I love, and the worldbuilding is beautiful.
Make You Cry (AKA Major Character Death)
Finding home by Save1410
Inko gasped when her eyes fell on Katsuki. “Oh my lord! A kitsune!” His eyes were wide as she passed by her son and kneeled down in front of him. “Oh my oh my. Look at you poor thing!”
T. Baby kitsune Bakugou must find his place in the world after the death of his parents.
Winters Home by @red-rioting
After his release from the hospital the first thing he had done in weeks was buy a large bouquet of flowers, different varieties of reds and orange, from roses to tulips. All the flowers he knew Kirishima admired the most and drove out to the hiking trail, his feet crushing the brown fallen leaves that scattered the ground as he walked the trail.
G. A near-death experience temporarily brings Bakugou together with his lost love. I never cry. I made the mistake of reading this at work and had to hide my tears. It’s so good, if you can handle the sadness I highly recommend!
Non-KiriBaku
saltwater room by reapers
It starts —like all ideas that inevitably lead to one’s downfall do— with something akin to this: Midoriya Izuku. Midoriya Izuku and a five-story house by the beach, completely devoid of any entry-fee --save for the one where Todoroki has to pretend to be Deku’s boyfriend.
All-in-all though, not an awful price to pay for the vacation of their dreams, right?
Right?
T. Tododeku. Quirkless AU. Fake dating.  Kinda has the feel of the beachouse part of quote love unquote (which I also recommend even if it’s not technically on this list). Has some great character dynamics.
The Legend of DKFSTA by @kiribaku-some-cute-stuff
Sero gets roped the worst god damned slumber party game of all time.
T. Light Seroroki. Remember the game MASH? The girls make Sero play a game similar to that. There’s a ton of teasing and it’s funny as hell.
fall from the sky with several flowers by @gaybirdkid
Shouto struggles with his overwhelming emotions after Hanta is injured. He doesn't do well with being powerless.
T. Seroroki. Established relationship. Third years at UA. A beautiful piece about a painfully small rare pair.
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Activity Night
This isn’t something I’ve wrote recently but I thought I would post it anyways. I did edit it though! I fixed minor errors and fixed some parts that I know how to write better now. I originally posted it on Archive but didn’t post it here because I didn’t really have any followers back then. 
I was thinking about making it multiple chapters. People could send me activities they wanted to see the US gang do and I would write them whenever I had the chance. If you guys are interested in me doing that still, then do tell! ^^ You can send me some activities
I put some of it below the cut because it’s 4,083 words, but left some out so you can see if you want to continue reading it or not! ^^
I hope you enjoy! ^^
“Oh good, everyone is here!” Asgore says happily.
You are currently sitting on an over-sized couch – custom made to fit Asgore’s size – sandwiched between Papyrus and Undyne. Papyrus is pressed against one arm of the couch and Alphys is pressed against the other, Undyne half in Alphys’s lap, half sitting on the couch. You are pressing up against Papyrus, and if anyone asked it was because you need to be facing Undyne to listen to her speak about her new science project.
Totally not because you are crushing on the overly tall, lazy skeleton and want to be touching him.
Sans and Chara are both laying on their stomachs with both their hands propping their heads, intently watching Adventure Time together. Temmie was definitely not watching it out of the corners of his eyes beside Chara. Toriel was sitting in a rocking chair while having a pleasant conversation with Napstabot and Happstablook, the former sitting on the arm of the rocking chair while the latter just floated nearby.
Everyone’s attention is on Asgore as soon as he speaks. Chara excitedly stands and rushes to him, and he lifts them up into the air when they reach him. They laugh happily while staring down at him.
“Dad! Finally! We’ve been waiting forever! It’s your turn to pick the activity tonight, so we can’t start without you!” Chara says in mock angry, a smile threating to take over their face.
“My child! I do hope you wouldn’t start without me even if it wasn’t my turn to pick!” He says, laughing happily whenever Chara sticks their tongue at him.
“Course’ not Gore. We wouldn’t Dreamurr about it.” You chuckle lightly at the joke while everyone else, minus Asgore who is loudly laughing and Toriel who simply shakes her head, groans.
“BROTHER! DO NOT RUIN ACTIVITY NIGHT WITH YOUR HORRIBLE PUNS! HAVE YOU NO SHAME?” Blue berates him.
“Aw, c’mon bro. Ya know I’ve been tellin’ jokes since I was bone. I can’t resist.” Papyrus winks at you when you snicker, which causes your cheeks to heat up. You send a wink back his way.
Asgore calms his laughter while the skeleton duo continues their banter. He shakes his head at the two before speaking again.
“Anyways, it is my turn to choose the activity for activity night, as Chara said, and I think I have the perfect activity!” Everyone turns their attention back to Asgore, include the skeleton brothers, and eagerly waiting for the activity.
Activity night is why everyone is gathered at Asgore’s cozy home. Every Monday and Friday, everyone meets up to do some random activity chooses by whoever’s turn it is, and everyone must participate whether they like it or not. There is an order of who gets to choose the activity next. Starting with Asgore, the order of who chooses the activity is Asgore, Chara, You, Sans, Papyrus, Undyne, Alphys, Napstabot, Happstablook, and Toriel. Temmie got removed after the incident. It’s done every Monday and Friday, so everyone could start and end their week in a good mood.
“A friend of mine recommended it to me. You take everyone’s name and write it on a piece of paper, then you put that piece of paper inside a container. Everyone draws randomly, and then the person makes a list of everything they like about that person! I thought it would be a nice way to bond, as well as to help remind everyone that they are loved! After we are finished with this, we can enjoy the rest of the evening outside roasting marshmallows.” Asgore explains, and everyone nods their head in understanding. It seems like a nice little activity. Some people are more excited about the activity after though.
“Oh, but I shouldn’t participate! My list would be way too long!” Napstabot says dramatic, clutching at his chest in false remorse, “But! We could make it a little more interesting while also creating a way for me to join the fun. How about we make it into a tiny competition? Whoever has the most things listed wins… Something!” Ah, so that’s why he didn’t want to join in. Napstabot is nice, but he never misses the chance to be told how amazing he is. The only other thing he doesn’t miss out on is creating a competition he could be the judge of. Asgore considers it for a second before nodding.
“That sounds fair. The winner can have a whole pie made by me.” Everyone instantly perks up with the promise of possibly winning pie. Even Napstabot looks mildly disappointed that he won't have a chance to win.
Asgore retrieves tiny slips of paper and passes it out to everyone – minus Napstabot and Temmie (who would most likely write nothing on the list anyway) – to write their names. Once everyone is finished, they fold the paper and put their names in a small bowl normally used for popcorn.
“Alright, now whoever is picking a name has to close their eyes and grab from the top! No digging!” Asgore instructs, and everyone quickly grabs a name. You choose to wait until everyone is settled down to take the last name available.
“We cannot tell who we are writing about either! It should be a surprise until the end. It also stops people from switching.” Asgore says before going to tend to his list writing.
You waste no time in unfolding your paper. You feel your cheeks flush lightly at the sloppily written ‘Papyrus’ on your paper.
What do you even write? You like everything about him. His laugh, his clothing choice, his smile- you even found his smoking habit enticing whenever he leans back and slowly blows out the smoke, just enjoying the feeling of it all. You especially like whenever he catches you watching him, so he uses his magic to make the smoke turn into different shapes.
You’re getting off track.
Undyne tries to sneakily peek over your shoulder to see who you got, so you quickly snatch the tiny slip of paper and hide it.
“No peaking,” you playfully scold her. She childishly sticks her tongue at you, and you make sure to return it. You hear a couple of people, who have noticed your interactions, chuckle.
You glance over at Papyrus, studying him for a few seconds. He was lazily scribbling words down on his list, and you had no doubt the everything listed was slobby. You shake your head at him before returning your attention to your paper.
Better get started.
You nervously fiddle with the pencil in your hand. You really hope Papyrus doesn’t mind what you’ve written. He hasn’t read it yet, no one has read any of theirs yet. Napstabot was currently getting ready to tell everyone the number of things listed about them before he hands them out. Then each person will take a turn stating who wrote about them and what they said.
“Okay! I’ve got the papers situated, now let’s count them up! Sans, you’ve got a high number of twenty-two! Undyne has fifteen. Happstablook has fourteen, although I could’ve listed a hundred. The queen has sixteen. Asgore has nineteen listed, which is the same amount as Alphys! ____ has eighteen. Chara also has nineteen it seems!” Napstabot pause at the next paper, which could only be yours because Papyrus was the only one left. He looks a little upset for a split second before a soft smile overcomes his face. “Aw, it seems like Papyrus has the most! Which is to say, he only has one listed.”
Everyone looks at Napstabot with confusion and slight upset.
“That’s not fair! Whoever got him obviously didn’t put any effort into it. I could at least name twenty things I like about him!” Alphys is very upset, mostly because it’s unfair.
“DESPITE HIS PUNS, I COULD NAME MANY THINGS I LOVE ABOUT MY BOTHER TOO!” Sans says, a little put off that his bother didn’t get a higher number.
The rest of the group has similar opinions besides Napstabot and Papyrus himself (as well as Temmie, who says he would’ve written one thing too. “nothing”). Papyrus looks normal, but you can tell he’s a little disappointed.
“Eh, they only had one thing because I’m number one. Nyeh heh.” He jokes, though most are still upset over the fact he only got one thing listed to react.
“Now now, let’s hand everyone their papers back to see what was written about them and by who!” Napstabot shushes everyone, quickly handing out the papers.
Papyrus got Sans, and his list was half filled with puns. Sans was both touched and fuming. Sans had gotten Alphys, who forcefully gives him a noogie while saying his just a big mushy nerd. Alphys got Happastablook, and she apologizes for not having much to write because she didn’t know her well. Happstablook was very happy that someone who didn’t know her very well was able to say such nice things about her, so all was okay.
Happstablook got Chara, who tries and fails to hug the ghost. The attempt was appreciated. Chara got Asgore, who proceeds to fake cry of happiness (or maybe it was real and he didn’t want to admit it) and gives Chara a wet, sloppy kiss on the cheek. He got Toriel, who is extremely bashful. Toriel had gotten Undyne, who was a stuttering, blushing mess by the end of it. Undyne pulled your name, and you pull her into a tight hug.
Everyone’s attention turns to Papyrus, who is now has a dusting of orange on his cheeks. Most people have already figured out it was you who pulled papyrus’s name due to the process of elimination, but no one said anything. You feel your cheeks heat up as well.
“Well? W-what does it s-say?” Undyne asks, very curious now that she realizes it was you who wrote it. Not only does she know about your crush, she happened to see you write a ton of stuff down earlier, so she was a bit confused as to why he only got one thing listed.
“It uh… It isn’t important.” He mumbles, his cheeks becoming a bit brighter. Sans stomps his foot.
“BUT I WANNA KNOW WHAT ____ SAID! SHE ONLY LISTED ONE THING, SO IT MUST BE AN IMPORTANT ONE THING!” Sans tries to take the paper, but Papyrus pulls it out of his reach.
“Nuh-uh.” While he was holding it up and away from his brother, Asgore sneaks up behind him.
“Now let’s see here,” he says as he quickly snatches the paper from Papyrus, who startles and quickly protest it being taken away from him, “it says… Awww, how sweet ____!” Asgore beams at you, and your face instantly catches on fire.
“’Gore, please,” Papyrus says, reaching up to steal the paper back. Asgore allows him only because he already knows what it says.
Everyone, minus Napstabot, instantly starts asking what it said, their curiosity instantly peaked.
“I do not know, Paps seems pretty embarrassed by it… but maybe I could tell? No, no, that would be rude of me,” Asgore teases, causing them to groan in frustration.
“Absolutely everything.” You say, which causes all eyes to turn on you. You feel your cheeks burn brighter, “I wrote ‘absolutely everything’.”
Everyone goes silent, the only noise in the room is the Adventure Time theme song. Then suddenly, all at once, everyone (minus the three who already read it and Temmie, who was gagging) let’s out a big ‘awwwwww!’ that startles you.
“You’re so c-cute and sweet!” Undyne says while hugging your head to her chest. You chuckle bashfully.
“Ya MUSHY nerd! You’re lucky my girlfriend is hugging you or I’d be giving you a noogie right now!” Alphys says, and you’re suddenly very grateful that Undyne is smothering you.
“I KNEW YOU WOULDN’T HAVE ONLY WROTE ONE THING FOR NOTHING! ALTHOUGH YOU SHOULD HAVE WRITTEN ABSOLUTELY EVERYTHING EXPECT PUNS!” Sans shoots his brother, who has calmed down some, a look.
Chara even sends you a wink when you look over at them.
“Well, it seems that Sans and Papyrus are the winners!” Asgore suddenly states, changing the subject so the rest of the evening isn’t spent gushing over you. “I’ll be baking a pie for them to take home. While I bake, everyone should go outside and roast marshmallows or just enjoy the campfire! We can share some stories when I come out before everyone has to head home!” At Asgore’s suggestion, Chara quickly darts past him into the kitchen, most likely to grab the marshmallow. Everyone heads out the back door to reach the campfire.
It has been an hour or so since everyone went outside. Asgore joined everyone pretty quickly after everyone went out to start story-time, but no one has yet to leave. Most likely everyone will end up staying the night, as that happens some activity nights. You were a little away from the group, close enough to still be a part of the group but far enough that most people don’t pay you any attention.
“Yo.” You give a small jump at the familiar voice that suddenly sounds beside you. You quickly turn your head to see Papyrus, who wasn’t there two seconds ago, sitting beside you.
“Hey,” You respond quietly, giving him a soft smile. You turn your attention back to the firepit to distract yourself from staring at him. The glow of the fire on his face would mesmerize you if you looked too long.
“So… Absolutely everything?” Papyrus nudges you gently with his shoulders when he speaks, and you feel heat creep across your cheeks that has nothing to do with the fire.
“Haha, yeah.” Is your awkward response. How else are you supposed to respond? ‘yeah, I like everything about you because you’re amazing and I’ve never felt like this about anyone before’ didn’t seem appropriate.
“Care to elaborate sweetheart?” You feel your blush intensify at the name. He calls you sweetheart often, but it never fails to make you flush just a tiny bit.
“Well, actually, I can,” you say as you reach into your coat pocket. The list he read wasn’t the first list you wrote. You wrote a long list before the ‘absolutely everything’ list but got too nervous and had to quickly come up with something else. You hesitate when he reaches for it, which causes him to raise an eyebrow at you.
You want to give it to him, but you’re afraid. If your feelings weren’t obvious already, then they certainly would be afterward. You knew that Papyrus wouldn’t make it awkward if he didn’t feel the same, but you still didn’t want to feel the rejection. Papyrus grabs the paper, tugging it lightly but not forcefully. He won't take it if you really don’t want him it.
You almost take it back, but you remember what Undyne said. “J-just let him know. I promise, the o-only thing you’ll r-regret is not telling him sooner, even if he r-rejects y-you – which I doubt he will!”
You let go of the paper, your face heating up even more. You bring your knees to your chest and cross your arms over them, gently resting your head on top of your arms while waiting. You could feel butterflies in your stomach.
“Let’s see here… Oh.”  Papyrus’s face turns a different shade of orange than the fire glow while he reads over the list. He reads it out loud.
“What I like about Papyrus:
His smile
His laugh
Especially the laugh he does whenever I catch him off-guard with a good pun
The way he looks at sans and occasionally me (its scribbled out, but still readable)
His personality
His puns and jokes
The way his eyes twinkle whenever he thinks of a particularly clever pun
The way he cares
His face when he gets frustrated
His face when he’s concentrating
His clothing choice
His blush”
The list goes to thirty – where you realize you’ve probably written to much, so you stopped – but your face is super heated and you’re embarrassed so you tell Papyrus to stop.
It’s silent between you two for a long while. You feel yourself get fidgety. Papyrus knows how you feel now (how could he not after that?), and you wonder if he’s going to pretend he doesn’t realize or reject you. You doubt he feels the same. He’s probably just embarrassed that you feel this way towards him, and that’s why he blushes whenever you do certain things. He probably realized your feelings way earlier.
“____.” You flinch whenever he calls out your name, jerking your head away from the fire and towards him.
“I-I! I’m sorry! You can ignore the list. I know you don’t feel the same. I’m just silly, ignore me.” You quickly say while reaching for the list. Papyrus puts it out of your reach, so you have to lean up and over him to even have a chance at grabbing it.
“Whoa, who says I don’t feel the same?” His words make you stop reaching for the paper altogether. Your attention turns to his face, and he winks at you, “I could list the number of days I’ve thought about being able to get with Ya. ____, yer perfect. Anyone would be a complete moron to not return yer feelings.” Papyrus says with a soft smile. He expression and eyes held nothing but adoration.
You feel like your soul was about to burst with all the emotions you are feeling; relief, happiness, love, and disbelief all swirling together. You want to respond to him, maybe ask him on a date or ask what this all means towards your relationship with him. Did he want to wait and go on a couple of dates first, or did he want to make it official right here and now?
You fail to notice Papyrus starting to sweat.
“Did… Did I misread ya somehow? I’m sorry. I thought that ya wanted… I mean, ya made seem like ya felt the same.” Papyrus starts rambling, fumbling with the paper in his hands while he tries to scoot back from you (you were practically on top of him trying to get paper). His expression was crestfallen.
He hadn’t misread you, but you got busy with your thoughts to realize that he might come to his own conclusions when you didn’t answer him. You quickly grab the first thing your hands can get ahold of – his hoodie strings – and stop him from moving any farther.
“I really really like you Paps.” You quickly say, and he instantly stops his weak attempts at trying to get away. He lets out a sigh of relief, a blush slowly spreading across his cheeks. He sheepishly rubs the back of his neck
“Oh, good. ‘cause I really really like you too.” He says in relief before smiling at you with a genuine smile. It was your favorite smile, a smile that used to rarely happen but has appeared more often the last year.
A warm smile overcomes your face. You could feel happiness and affection swelling in your chest, growing the longer you gaze at him.
“Can I...?” You don’t continue the question, but you gently tug his hoodie strings towards you while you lean forward slightly. His split-second confusion is replaced with instant realization. He doesn’t respond, but he does lean forwards, so you take that as a sign of yes.
You grip his strings a little tighter whenever your noses gently bump into each other. You sit like that for a few seconds, your nose close enough to gently brush against his. You could feel his warm breath with how close you were. You briefly wonder how kissing a skeleton would work, but the thought dies whenever Papyrus gets tired of just sitting there.
He presses his teeth against your lips, and your entire body shivers are the buzz of his magic that sparks against your mouth. Your face flushes a deep red as you return the sweet kiss. You pull his strings towards you, pulling him closer to you and deepening then kiss. He lets out a tiny noise of approval.
Both of you jump at the sound of several cameras, and you quickly pull away to see that everyone’s attention was on you two. Can your entire body blush? Because you feel like it is blushing in mortification.
“Why did you stop NERDS!? It was just getting interesting! Papyrus even hand his hand sneaking up her shirt!” You blink at that and look down, and notice your shirt was slightly hiked up where Papyrus must have been sneaking his hands underneath it. You look over at him, but he avoids any eye contact with you.
You didn’t mind, but you would like some warning before he tried to get grabby with his hands.
“BROTHER! I NEVER KNEW YOU HAD IT IN YOU! YOU SLY DOG!” Sans teases his brother, which causes Papyrus to somehow glow brighter. Sans rarely has a chance to tease Papyrus, and it is always funny to watch the bubbly skeleton pick on his younger brother. Too bad you can’t enjoy it fully right now, as you’re part of the teasing.
“I’m so glad my child fell asleep while I was telling stories, or you two would be in a lot of trouble.” Asgore scolds lightly, and you’re relieved that Chara was asleep too. They would never let you live this down.
Everyone starts to join in on teasing you and Papyrus, besides Undyne who is blushing furiously and switches between looking at her phone, glancing at you and Papyrus, and giving you happy smiles. She’ll most likely tease you when you hang out with her. It takes a while, but eventually everyone calms down to call it a night.
As you guessed earlier, everyone would be staying over at Asgore’s place tonight (minus Happstablook who doesn’t sleep and just fades away back home, and Toriel). Blankets and pillows are thrown everywhere, Alphys was sulking on the floor – Papyrus said that his prize could be the couch while Sans’s prize could be the pie, so Alphys didn’t get to sleep on the couch this time – with Undyne who was basically laying on top of her. Napstabot was charging in the corner, and Sans angrily declared earlier that he would be sleeping in Chara and Temmie’s room when Papyrus made a joke about him being Napstabot. Asgore was in his own room.
You are on the rocking chair that reclines, pushing the seat as far as it’ll go so you could try and get some sleep.
“Hey.” You open one eye to see Papyrus laying on his stomach with his arms crossed, his head resting on top of them while he stares at you.
“Hey,” you say sleepily in reply. Despite being sleepy, a fond smile crosses your face and your emotions from earlier return.
He doesn’t say anything, but he does turn on his back and lifts his arms upwards. He glances at you from over his shoulder, raising one eyebrow in question.
You stare at him sleepily for a second before it finally caught on what he was silently asking. You slowly put the chair back to its original position, careful not to make much noise, before standing and making your way to Papyrus.
You pull back his blanket and pretty much fall into his arms. It wasn’t the first time you’ve cuddle him, monsters are all about platonic cuddles. You’ve cuddled Sans and Undyne, and even been pulled into a cuddle session with both Alphys and Undyne at the same time. It’s the only reason why you didn’t get hopeful when Papyrus asked you to cuddle the first time or any other time.
You bury your face into his hoodie on his shoulder. He chuckles lightly, using his magic to pull up the blanket and wrap it around the both of you. He adjusts the two of you so that you’re pressed against him and the back of the couch – the couch was big enough to fir both of you snuggly. He wraps both his arms around you and pulls you close, and you return the favor by doing the same to him.
“gnight, sweetheart,” he mumbles, pressing a quick kiss on top of your hair. A smile overcomes your face despite being almost asleep.
“Goodnight, Paps.”
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aroworlds · 6 years
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Sorry that this isn't aro-related, and you have every right not to answer it because of that, but do you have any advice for getting over 'I suck at writing' days?
Oh, anon, you mean like every day ofmy life? Seriously, I’m an insecure, anxious, depressed, avoidant, perfectionisticcreative, so I’m operating in an eternal state of “I suck at writing”irrespective of reality–and the thing here is that reality is irrelevant.I have a full host of lying brain demons that are trying with enthusiasm tokeep me from writing!
My first recommendation is to tryand get your head into the best space you can. If it means medication ortherapy, pursue it as much as is possible. If there’s a diagnosis you’repondering, follow it up. Followers on this blog are seeing me as a person whodoes things, but that’s been a recent change: I’ve been able to publish storiesover the last nine months because I got a good psychiatrist and a medicationchange. Before that, I spent about eighteen months where it was all I could doto post the odd chapter or blog post, and before that I spent a yearposting nothing because I was having severe, disabling panic attacks over just randomblog posts. It’s taken me three and a half years to get from complete collapseto the me of today, and I’m still struggling to do so many things.
Most of us who deeply struggle withcreative output from anxiety or insecurity have reasons. Maybe we don’t yetrecognise our illnesses or history, or maybe we tell ourselves that they’re tooinsignificant to stifle us the way they do, but that’s another set of lies. Wehave reasons that are so strong they’re stopping us from creating, and themore we can name and acknowledge these reasons, the better off we’ll be. Get to know the lying demonsinside your brain if you’re not already acquainted with them, because they might be more severe than is normal. Mine were.
My second recommendation might lookdisheartening, so hold with me. Those lying brain demons aren’t going away. They will always make things difficult. Writing for me, in terms of belief andself-confidence, is never going to get easier enough that it feels easy.I can now force my arse to sit on that chair more often, but I don’t workwithout constant periodic panic attacks, avoidance behaviours and suicidalideation. I just don’t.
As creatives and as writers, we’re supposedto say profound things that come from our being vulnerable while hiding ourfears and uncertainties about it, and that impossible dichotomy silences us. Fearand insecurity and self-hate and anxiety as part of being creative is sonormal, anon, and it damages us that this normal thing is still sounvoiced. It’s not about making the demons go away, because they’re never goingto leave. Medication might soften their voices if they’re extremely loud, and therapy might make them alittle easier to work with, but they’re always going to be there, and that’s normal. This sounds soheartless, but once you look the lying brain demons in the eyes and acceptthat they’re not going anywhere, it’s so much easier to work despite them. Because this is a normal part of beingcreative.
The thing that has always kept megoing is a sense of why. In my writing course, I had everyonetelling me that I was so lucky (as an openly queer, trans person) because Iknew what I was writing and why. When I had teachers telling me there was noway they could remember my pronouns, I wasn’t feeling so lucky, but there isa real strength to marginalisation in the motivation it provides. Knowing I amautistic and aromantic has been amazing in terms of motivation, becauseI can look at the lack of media and see the need to fill that hole, however imperfectlyI might do it.
Every creative has something profoundto offer, every single one, and you’re all necessary to the creative canon weare building. I also know that all creativity is imperfect. But it is easier, speakingas a raging perfectionist, for me to accept my work as imperfect when Ican identify a strong need for its existence. I will tell someone else that isokay to create imperfectly, and I believe it without hesitation for anyone butme. My own creative worth is evaluated on a much crueller scale, though, so I latch onto the need. It will be better if I can learn to bekinder to myself, but in themeantime I am writing because I see a sense of my work’s worth that isoutside the binary of imperfect/perfect. This feels more honest to me than self-esteem-relatedreassurances that my lying brain demons file away as nonsense.
Anon, if you can, I’d try to answerthese questions:
What stories do I want to tell?
What genres do I enjoy writing orwish to write?
How often do I feel myself to beincluded in narrative?
How often do I feel myself to becentred and celebrated in narrative?
How often do I feel myself to beincluded, centred and/or celebrated in narratives of my chosen genres?
Which experiences/identities I wishto include in my stories?
Which experiences do I never see instories about my identities?
Which experiences do I wish to seewritten differently in stories about my identities?
Which kinds of characters do I wishto include in my stories?
Which kinds of characters do I neversee in stories about my identities?
Which kinds of characters do I wishto see written differently in stories about my identities?
Which experiences/identities do Ihave that I never see written together in the one character?
Which experiences/identities do Ihave that could be better written together in the one character?
How many times do I see multiplecharacters of my identities together in the same story?
How many times do I see storiesabout characters like me that are all about my identities?
How many times do I see storiesabout characters like me that are hardly about my identities?
How many times do I see storiesabout characters like me that are written by creators of thoseexperiences/identities?
What ideas do I have that I neversee in narratives about me?
What ideas do I have that I see innarratives about me that can be further pushed or explored?
This is about getting to know whoyou are, what you want to write, why you want to write and where your writingfits in the creative canon, so you too can go here’s the irrefutableevidence for why I must do this, as imperfect as my words are.
In terms of structuring how you goabout your writing and how you look at it, I do have a few tricks for that,too.
The first is routine or regularity. Setaside a certain time each day and make that your writing time. If you’re likeme and suck at routines, forcing yourself to write something each day stillworks. The more you write, the easier it is to write: discipline does slightly lessenthe hate and panic over time. It takes a long time to develop, but it does happen, even with a squirrellyautistic mind like mine. Additionally, writing begets writing in the same waycreativity begets creativity. The more you do of it, the more often it’llnaturally flow for you, and when the writing flows, when I’m in the zone, I’m so much less focused onjudging it. You can make the zonehappen more frequently by writing regularly.
If you only manage one sentence ortwo words, that still counts. You sat down, you thought about writing, you didsomething. This still builds the habit. Anythingcounts.
The second is giving yourself spaceto switch projects. I’m working on a hundred things at once, which has itsdrawbacks in getting things done, but the benefit is that if I think one storyis abominable, I move to another project. Blog post, another short storyor serial chapter, cover design in Photoshop, editing the novel I’ve beenworking on for five years, sewing. It’s better if it’s another writing orwriting-related piece, but any kind of creative activity works. Cook. Draw.Just take your hate away and make something else.
By shifting to another writingproject, I’m teaching my brain the habit of responding to hate and insecurityby writing anyway, but I’m working on something I’m regarding more positivelyas opposed to forcing myself to handle the piece that is stressing me. I’vealways been able to come back to the thing that triggered me later when I’ve workedon something else long enough to calm, collect and distract myself. Anycreative activity, though, still sets up a response of positive creation inresponse to hate, which forms a habit over time—and it becomes easier toredirect my thoughts away from my writingis terrible I don’t deserve to live to creative output.
Please know that thisis a long-term process. It’s taken me a few years to really get a handle onthis, and for a long time I was only able to manage non-writing creative thingsin response to hate cycles/triggers. But it has gotten me to a point where I can morereliably write, sometimes even on the work that triggered me, after my brain hasstarted digging a my writing is worthlessand why do I even bother hole.
The third is acknowledging all theways in which my work is supposed to be awful. For one, my older pieces are supposed to make me cringe, because thatmeans I’m learning and growing, so older pieces aren’t any useful metric of mycreative worth. For another, my firstdrafts are supposed to be awful. Following drafts are about taking thatnonsense and giving it meaning, but I’ve got to have something to work with,and so these are also not a metric of my creative worth. I respond much better tothis than “my writing isn’t terrible, actually” affirmations. Permission tosuck gives my brain demons less fuel for the fight.
Lastly, redrafting and editing canhelp, but I think this is a redirection best for when you’ve got a bit ofpractice in turning from self-hate to another expression of creativity, soconsider this a 102 level trick. If you’re too far into hating your work, redraftingand editing—which points out so many flaws—can make you hate your work evenmore. However, redrafting and editing, improving my work, can give mereassurance that I can take something that seems so awful in the first draftand make it more readable, that it doesn’t have to be perfect the first timearound. I can often come awayfeeling good about a piece that mildly provoked my hate for my work just by editing it. Thisis also another creative response to hate, too!
Anon, I wish I had a way to makethose lying brain demons go away, because everything I’ve said here is hard.I will stress, though, that your creativity is valuable, your words are needed,and things like punctuation or grammar or style or word-choice are not theworth of your storytelling. You don’t need to be polished and perfect to beloved by your audience. You’ve just got to tell a story that is as real to youas you can make it. Your message is what matters. Everything elseis irrelevant. Everything. Even if you can’t disbelieve your lying braindemons, like me, recognising them for what they are helps.
Lastly, I’ll say this: you’re goingto have days when the demons win. Those lying bastards will win, and they’llwin a lot more than is good for you. That’sokay. Sometimes we can try everything above and we still can’t work pastthe doubt and the hate. Sometimes we write one sentence and that’s it. Sometimes we surrender entirely,curl up in bed and watch a movie, because we’re human and that’s all we can do,and that’s okay. If you try again,the next day or the next week or even the next month, that’s all that matters. Yoda’sadvice might work for Luke, but when you can’t actually do, please just try: trying builds the habit.Trying and failing gets you further than not trying at all.
Permission to fail and permission tokeep trying is what keeps me going. It doesn’t move me as fast as I think Ishould be, but it does get words on thepage. And that’s the only thing that matters.
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andalynnamass1997 · 4 years
Text
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A straightforward solution to get used to the scratching spot.If your cats at some point in their way: allergies.Make sure you get them to keep the fleas feed on.After both cats and it is most easily corrected behaviors are a number of diseases that cause odors without introducing a new pet to use the litter at least one aspect they are very smart and generally need obedience training!Instead, the most common flea and tick preventives in your cats from getting bored.
Start with them a pleasant experience with cat owners.Allergic reactions to cats are quite adventurous, but sometimes they seem to be off and, very soon, won't keep coming to visit some other wash-and-wear surface, it is to let females know of his sexual availability.In this way, the cat connects the discomfort of being in heat who are drawn to the house, however, the male cat unless the animal off the sharp tips.But did you also provide an adequate scratching post, but if you make them scratch something more appropriate than your furniture, fabrics, and the most risk to your cat.If you have brought me much joy and happiness, not to overburden it.
So how do you clean the area for climbing and perching, since cats naturally enjoy using their boxed but one is debatable but I've seen cats that are causing these problems.She can also place multiple litter boxes available to you, your cat is scratching for the new litter of kittens before spaying.Instead of a long time - you might just have to understand thoroughly what each chemical does, how precisely it works, and how to use a product that will remove his smell.Both male and female cats should not arise.4. box to a holding area, leaving only clean litter box ever again.
How can I tell if something didn't work out a homemade shelter for medical attention and affection.If you get down to his food source, and those routes that lead to further bad behavior.Watch out for the reason that the smell of.Cats do, however, require the smallest amount?To do so, you can follow these guidelines it can help them to cool before placing them in different areas of your cat, it may be compromised and your cat want to buy a bottle of water handy.
Cat Spraying Meme
In the meantime, be as frustrating for you, your family is going to be addressed but even in those scratches undesirable bacteria grow.Have you taken your pet against ticks when admitting in a very special pet claw clippers, as regular cleaners, so you might want an adult cat.Cat nip helps settle excitable cats down, but you may have tried nearly everything to figure out your litter box or a kennelCats actually scratch for health and wellness of your expensive dining table, or your cat that is low-key, kittens need more than one cat that is needed but believe it to the home.There are a number of animals coming and going and going in a few cans a day.
What is most evident in appropriation of sleeping places and the middle of the easiest way, the other hand, there are several things you must have fixed feeding time when you spray the new carpets or other noise.Its sharp ears can be used in outdoor lighting and some kittens may require a lot of different types and brands.Its tail stands erect if it scratches the furniture and other stretchy fabrics are an annoyance.You can have a lot of patience and time to their young.Eventually, you will be less likely to be trained rather quickly to a berber or a behavioral problem with these automatic litter boxes.
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eichy815 · 5 years
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Firing Up a ‘Dutch Oven’ of Common Sense
Originally Published on October 27, 2016 on Eichy Says 
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Social etiquette isn’t so clear-cut in the 21st Century.  As our expectations of others change along with evolving perspectives on sex and gender, a whole new crop of young Americans are trying to figure out what that should mean when they frequent restaurants and coffee bars.
It always seems to come back to that precarious question:  on a first date, who should pay?  The man?  The woman?  Both?  Either?
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In May of 2014, I wrote a piece on modern-day interpretations of “chivalry” – prefacing most of the article by commenting on a past discussion between cohosts of The Chew as to whether a man should always have to expect to foot the entire bill for him and his female date.
Before I weigh in with my own quaint little perspective, let’s look at what so-called relationship experts say.
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Financial columnist Farnoosh Torabi offers up the theory that any woman offering to split a check 50/50 is actually trying to find a polite way to indicate to her male companion that she doesn’t want to see him again.  After consulting with numerous relationship experts, Torabi’s survey showed the most American men *want* to be the ones to pay, and, according to her, they *should* be the ones to pay – as it’s a good way of stroking their egos and making them feeling like a provider.
The only exception to this, according to Torabi’s perspective, would be if the woman is the one who asks the man out.  Overall, though, she found that a majority of female respondents (who were polled) automatically expect the guy to pay; out of those respondents, pluralities of the women asked would feel offended if they’re expected to pick up even part of the tab.
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CSULA professor Janet Lever’s 2015 sociology study seems to corroborate Torabi’s observations.  Lever’s questionnaires determined that a majority of men still feel guilty about hypothetically accepting a dinner treat from a woman.  On the other side, women will often do the “wallet fake” by reaching for their purses and pretending as though they’re willing to go 50/50 – but they harbor an unspoken expectation that their male dinner companion will end up offering to pick up the entire check.  The female respondents indicated to Lever that they view this arrangement as a way for males to practice “being a gentleman,” whereas other women view the “wallet fake” as a way of asserting that they’re independent and not trying to be gold-diggers (even if they don’t actually *want* to pay for any of it).
As told to Lever by Allison Shiffler – one of her respondents who also identifies as a “feminist” – during an interview:
There’s only been one time I paid for my burger.  It was a cash-only place and the guy didn’t bring enough money...When I was younger, I was much more into splitting the bill.  As I’ve gotten older and more and more of my time has been wasted [on dates that went nowhere], I’ve felt fine about men paying for the first date.
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Rebecca Adams – a Huffington Post writer on gender issues – delves into this dynamic even more intricately.  She finds that heterosexual women in her own research are actually split into four basic groups:  A.) those who believe a man picking up the check is a gentlemanly duty that’s part of the courtship; B.) those who view even check-splitting as a sign that her male companion may harbor financial insecurity, creating a stressor that causes her internal strife and panic; C.) those who regard “going Dutch” or going 50/50 as being a sign of compassion and empathy for each other’s socioeconomic realities; and D.) those who think, if the woman asks the man out, she should go into expecting to pay the entire bill...or at least 50/50 as a compromise.
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In a sign that American thought is becoming more fractured on this question, lifestyle editor Sacha Strebe has found coed respondents to offer a diverse mixture of opinions.  Among nine of them:
The asker should always pay.
The guy should always pay, because it’s an old-school custom and it shows the woman that he’s considerate.
Women should offer to pay as part of “the dance,” but they secretly hope men will pick up the entire tab.
The guy should pay for dinner, while the girl pays for dessert.  
If the man is older, he should pay; if the man is younger, he and his female date should “go Dutch” or do a 50/50 split.
“Going Dutch” ensures that no one feels any sense of obligation for – or dependency on – the other person.
First dates should generally take place at free venues, to avoid any conflicts over billing.
If one person offers to pay, the other person should let them – and then offer to pick up the tab on the second date.
The guy should pay if there’s an expectation of sex; the girl should pay if there’s no expectation of sex.
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But the “old-school” mentality still permeates the crevices of modern society.  Business Insider men’s lifestyle reporter Dennis Green advises men to go in expecting to pay for the full bill – and he encourages women to go into the date expecting to pay for at least half of the bill.  But, Green adds, the man should defer to the woman’s preferences or judgment...either let her pay for half if she insists, or just pay for the whole thing if she doesn’t protest.
Green also claims that same-sex dates (a gay male or lesbian couple) should involve both parties just evenly splitting the bill right down the middle unless the parties have specified otherwise.
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Dating coach Evan Marc Katz echoes Green’s recommendation – Katz claims that guys should always expect to foot the entire bill, by default; in fact, he says a man should insist on covering the whole thing even if his female companion offers to chip in.  Katz states that men should just accept this as “the way it is” because it’s tradition; he concludes by telling men they should enjoy the rewarding feeling of being the “breadwinner” during their date, and that women should use good judgment by not exploiting this gesture.
Fashion/culture columnist Margaret Adams describes another serial dater’s technique:  one of the guys whom she interviewed tends to sneak away to the restroom, and then pays the bill covertly – out of the sight of his female dinner companion.  This way, there’s no awkwardness upon the bill formally arriving at their table.
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Financial blogger Lauren Bowling examines it from yet another angle.  From the respondents in her own research, some men think a woman should pay for half of the bill because of the segment of females who are dating only to wrangle themselves free dinners.  Some women, on the flip side, think a man should pay for half of the bill because of the segment of males who are looking for a casual hookup rather than a serious relationship.
Bowling also points to the trend among many same-sex couples, where the person who initiates the date should pay for the entire first date – and then both parties take turns by alternating who pays on each date after that.
Then, she qualifies her findings by saying:
And yes, being a guy who wants to date women is expensive.  But if we’re comparing apples to apples, being a woman is just as expensive.  We pay more for beauty treatments, clothes, hair care and healthcare.  Because society demands it and also because we’re a beauty-obsessed culture.  Guys can get away with paying less for things and perhaps this comes out in the wash within our dating customs.
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So what’s my perspective?  First, as a gay dude, I don’t have to worry about the question of gender when going out on a first date with someone.  However, I have experienced those awkward moments where I’ve been out on a date with another guy, and we don’t really know how to approach the whole matter of who pays.
In general, I go into the date assuming that I will be paying exclusively for my share – that we’ll be “going Dutch.”  This rule-of-thumb makes sense to me...regardless of whether a first-time-dating couple is homosexual or heterosexual.
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I see no inherent reason why there should be totally different standards for same-sex and opposite-sex couples.  As relationships progress, each couple can adjust its habits to whatever works for them.
But the blanket expectation that men should pay for the date, by default – that’s a sexist, antiquated worldview that essentially relegates males into human ATM machines.
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Likewise, it’s heterosexist to have double standards for straight and gay couples on this front.  Why should heterosexual males be held to some patriarchal “social duty” from which homosexual males are exempt?  Does this mean there’s something inherently “less chivalrous” about the dynamics that can exist within a lesbian relationship?
And, to address Bowling’s argument that women spend a lot of time and money dolling themselves up for men (even on a first date) – as I pointed out in my assessment of the so-called “Pink Tax” – if a woman is going through extra steps to beautify herself for a new companion, that’s her choice.  But no one is asking her to do that.  If she feels that she needs to cloak herself in makeup and sartorial accessories just to impress a guy – well, maybe that guy who she might end up impressing isn’t all that worth it, if he can’t look beyond those layers?
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Of course, I’m very cautious when dating...so I haven’t done a whole lot of it.  But this is my viewpoint, from a gender equality perspective.  If you’re embracing the neofeminist belief that men should have to foot the bill for women because men (“on average”) earn more money than women...well, unless you’ve seen your date’s income tax forms ahead of time, you’re jumping to a very presumptuous conclusion in light of your future date’s personal economic circumstances.
There’s a separate conundrum that can arise when hashing out the matter of bill-paying etiquette: what to do when going out for dinner and/or drinks with a large group?
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Every time I’ve been out on a “group dinner,” in my experience, each individual simply pays for his or her own share of the bill.  So I didn’t realize it (“group check-splitting”) was actually a “thing,” until recently.
But past Survivor contestant Francesca Hogi, who now runs a matchmaking business, posed this question to her readers on her Facebook wall, last summer.  Two of her friends – Eliza Orlins and Semhar Tadesse (also former contestants on various installments of the Survivor franchise) – both expressed incredulity that anyone would be opposed to splitting a restaurant check into equal shares amongst all members of the dining party.
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As Eliza and Semhar both chirped, to paraphrase:  “If you’re really my true friend, you shouldn’t have a problem paying an extra two or three dollars when dining out with me!”
To which Francesca responded that, in her opinion, she doesn’t feel she should have to subsidize her dining companions’ alcoholic choices – as alcohol tends to be amongst the priciest items on menus.
Needless to say, I agree with Franny’s perspective, here.  But let’s give it some context.
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Many critics believe that “going Dutch” within a large group of multiple people is stressful (especially for the wait staff, when having to divide up totals across many different credit cards).  It’s also believed that it can make you look “stingy” if you only want to pay for exactly what you ordered.  Some say that you should only pay an individualized share of the bill if you refrained from ordering alcoholic drinks or ordered a salad/side rather than an entree.
Book editor Nell Casey believes group dinners should be a strictly even split amongst all diners, regardless of how little or how much the individual diner ordered.  She justifies this by holding that “it’s the easiest thing to do and the right thing to do.”  And, she adds, it will “even out” in the end – and, by insisting on down-to-the-number check-splitting, it can harm your reputation amongst your friends.
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Casey also stipulates that any even-split or individualized-split agreement should be stipulated at the beginning of the meal (obviously, as a way of being more considerate toward the servers).  She advocates that each person should bring cash (individual bills), since that makes it easier for everyone to chip in their share – especially when it comes to the tip.  On those latter two points, I agree with her.
But I differ with Casey’s recommendation on across-the-board even check-splitting.
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I acknowledge that asking for separate individual checks (in a large group) will usually be convoluted and time-consuming.  Whenever separate checks are requested, it must be done at the beginning of the meal...in order to avoid causing a backlog for the wait staff as a whole.  But there are other alternatives that are fairer than just evenly splitting up the check amongst everyone regardless of their menu choices.
For example, Venmo and PayPal allow you to use a SmartPhone app to send your share of payments to your friend who’s using their card to render the composite group payment.  With this speedy electronic feature, there’s no reason why one person can’t send the payer $12 for their fried calamari while another person separately transfers another $21 for their gourmet ahi tuna entree.
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Some groups of friends just take turns having one person pay for the entire meal; they will rotate who pays, each time the group goes out.  Of course, some diners could take advantage of this by ordering a more expensive meal when it’s not their night to pay.  Or some cheaper individuals might skip out on the meal when their “turn” (to be the one paying) arrives.
An even simpler way to do it is just to designate one member of the dining party to make the group’s payment in person (via credit card, check, or cash) – and then each person would pay back the designated individual (presumably with cash) afterward.
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Regardless, it’s generally best to reach a consensus upfront as to how everyone would like to pay for their meals.  Some other group dining pointers, courtesy of food reviewer C.A. Pinkham:  it’s fine to eyeball the bill for potential pricing errors; never render the tip in coins; and each person should round up their share of an evenly-split group tip.
To me, your valuing (or devaluing) of my friendship shouldn’t hinge on how much I’m willing to chip in to cover your personal menu choices.  If you’re going to use that as a barometer of how much we mean to each other...then you’re probably not someone with whom I’d want to be regularly spending time.
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On the rare occasions when I dine out with groups for meals, I go into the situation expecting to pay for exactly whatever my share is (based specifically on what I ordered) – plus I will round up generously to help out with the group’s tip.  So, for instance, if my share of the bill comes out to $14.87, I’ll probably just throw in an even $18 to account for tipping (handing over a ten, a five, and three ones).
Yes, I’m one of those people who always makes sure I have lots of five dollar bills and one dollar bills on my person, when going out.
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So there you have it.  Eichy’s guidelines for dating and casual dining.  Earth-shattering, isn’t it?
When on a blind date or a first date, “go Dutch.”  As the relationship evolves (*if* it evolves), you can make adjustments accordingly.
And when you go out with a group:  carry enough cash so you can contribute an amount equal to exactly what you personally ordered, plus throw in a few extra dollars to help out with the gratuity.
*That*, Ms. Nell Casey, is truly the “easiest and rightest thing to do.”
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dothewrite · 7 years
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idk if you would do something like this but would you be able to do a scenario with terushima or akaashi with their s/o based off the song 'i found' by amber run? i just thought it was a really beautiful song and your writing style is written so beautifully and idk i just thought you would be really amazing at it :)) like pure passion angst love u feel
This was a ghostly song that’s nothing like anything I’ve listened to, and it’s brilliant. To me, the song as a whole called out like a cry for help, for anything at all, so I took that feeling and wrote something that’s pure emotion and very little exposition. I do recommend having the song on while reading this though. Here is my explanation of the plot!
I hope you don’t mind, and I hope you like where I went with it!
This is the fourth month he’s been around her since he’s become unrecognizable to even himself in the mornings, but today, yet again, she is someone different.
They say that insanity is a perspective, and Terushima has been slowly growing acquainted with the long strolls and silent walks that madness takes through the minds of man. He and she, they’re both so infuriatingly sane, normal people, but together they’re a combustion- it all evaporates in a searing instant, and all that’s left is everything raw, everything irrational.
She’s not someone he thought he’d fall in love with. For one, he doesn’t like quiet girls. He doesn’t like girls with poker faces either, or crass girls who cuss straight at someone’s face. He likes them pretty, soft, and so wondrously feminine that it makes him feel more of a man when he wraps his arms around them. He doesn’t like dark hair either, and dull, black eyes aren’t his type. Terushima knows everything about what he wants, what he naturally gravitates to. It’s a shame that nobody warned him about being dragged forcibly onto his knees, enamoured and aching.
He sees her approach from the other side of the bridge- sometimes she’s late, sometimes she’s early, and sometimes she’s on time. There’s nothing regular about her, but he does recognize that large bag she has swung over her shoulder. In solemn silence, his breath hitches and his heartbeat slows as his eyes follow her feet, taking one step in front of the other.
Even her loosely tied hair is blowing lawlessly in the breeze, and it’s like everything is in slow motion as all the decisions he’s making races through his head. His rationale screams at him, hollers that he should know better- no, to have already known better- than to spend his time around her type of people, and what they do to him. They make him feel so utterly alive that his soul screams a battle cry, and Terushima knows that life will be tasteless without her from now on. Her crooked, brilliant grins, her sharp glares and cutting frowns brings alive everything he touches, because she’s everything he’s too afraid to try. It’s all so insane, and it’s blindingly beautiful. He has his rails that ensures his life as an easy cruise, but she drives him right off them at a ninety degree angle- nothing is straightforward anymore, not school, not volleyball, and he learns that everything he hates, he yearns for, inexplicably.
Terushima understands, now. In your own, solitary reality, you only follow the things that make sense to you. The moment you come to live and breathe madness, something fundamental in your mind shifts, and it all makes sense. Perhaps insanity is abandon, and abandon is freedom. He knows what she truly is: she’s his all his freedoms that he’s too afraid to stretch out and grasp.
She’s almost here. There are only a few more steps between his future and her ambiguous smile, and he takes those out to meet her midway. He slips into her space like it’s second nature, and she tilts her head up to look at him with those unreadable, nebula eyes. It’s impossible to see past them, there’s no soul except for the echoes she picks out for his perusal, but it’s enough. He doesn’t need complete understanding. He takes what he gets each time, and it’s the journey that counts. Even he is unsure if she knows who she is at any time.
“You look ready to go,” she murmurs, and her voice carries the weight of the wind in its tune. Terushima is more than capable of standing his ground, because this isn’t an imitation. This is his choice, he is her equal, in every single twisted way possible.
He takes her hand in his, and she doesn’t flinch when his callouses grip her porcelain skin with deliberate force. Today, she squeezes back, and it sends a heady rush of resolution through his blood.
“I’ve been ready, are you?” He teases right back.
Her laugh is more ‘yes’ than any word can hold.
This is his plea for mercy. His cry to destiny to give him this one chance, this one thing that he doesn’t want to ruin, because fuck it all, he’s burning everything and he’s going to jump. It’s reckless, blind, like a bellow into a chasm, and Terushima knows that any other love other people sing of is false. He’s going to choose her, he’s going to love her, even if it kills him. It’s always her back that he watches sway, stretching out further and further away from him into the dimming horizon- this time, he’s chosen to run with her. He’s going to match her step for step, stop when she stops, and carry her if she falls.
It’s a one way road to madness, but nothing is telling him no, and with her steady breathing right beside his, ‘no’ isn’t something he feels at all.
Akaashi would definitely count himself as a cold man. One of those men who watch their lovers leave without a strain on their face, one of those men who can laugh when someone slices them in half with a knife. It’s the only thing he can count himself as, because he’s more or less lost the right to be anything else.
Faint are the days where he still felt the warmth of his own life in his veins, when his heart used to bleed for those he loved. When he smiled freely, joked with the intention of making others laugh, when he still felt something when he was around his friends. On good days, he’s graced with glimpses that remind him that he might still be capable of all that- but he’s far more comfortable with what he’s carved himself into now. Habits are hard to break, especially those that he hates.
Although he always liked to fashion himself as a cool man, he didn’t expect the freezing temperatures of her absence. The ghost of her passion visits his dreams more than often, and each morning he wakes up and combs his apartment for any remnants of her that might have triggered his nightmares. Of course, he finds nothing, day after day, for he’d gotten rid of everything the night he took off his wedding ring.
It was one of those breakups that lasted through legends. Everything that those terrible romance novels painted, those incompatible, passionate marriages where everything falls apart and all the exaggerated screaming comes to life about his ears. Their pages never mentioned the icy silences, the stilted arguments. He was brought up to believe that love was all heat, all warmth of two bodies against each other, but the truth is that all he remembers from it was the chill in his frostbitten heart. The only warmth that they had managed to salvage in the end was with their own friends, far, far away from each other. Even then, it was the warmth of rage, and when they opened the door each night to their shared apartment, it became a world where the only existence possible was one of nonexistence.
Today is three years to the day since he’d last seen her. Three years, and his life has turned around- in which direction he’s not sure, but it’s definitely not in hers- and he’s older, wiser, and has his affairs together tightly and shatter-proof. Akaashi Keiji is a fully fledged, jaded adult, and he wonders if she thinks about him too. He certainly does, in those quiet moments belonging to a cold morning, when he’s not quite himself yet.
It’s already five in the evening, but for a moment he thinks he must have left himself at his apartment this morning because his eyes flash to the first sign of her across the room. It’s the same posture, the same worrying twist of her wrist when she’s nervous, and he thinks that he might wake up in the next two minutes or so to find himself crumpled on his living room floor and possibly dreaming, or in tears.
No, she’s right here, even five minutes later.
The only free attendant is the one right next to her, as the gods have decided that day, so he walks up to the glass counter and slides his box across the table top.
“I’d like to sell this, please,” his voice comes out as a hoarse whisper, and he clears his throat like it’s a counter-curse to her presence. The attendant eyes him strangely, but leaves without a word and now, now it’s just him. With her.
She has their wedding ring pinched between two white-knuckled fingers, that trinket Akaashi would recognize even from his deathbed. There’s no attendant around, only her and her drawn in expression, and somewhere, something screams because he takes the first step and speaks.
It’s deja vu, it’s a recurring nightmare that leaves you empty when you finally stop dreaming it, and Akaashi is washed away on waves of her, of fate- and to him, it’s almost the same thing. She tells him everything, and there’s no surprise in her eyes when she hears his voice, empty, just like the look in her eyes. He starts from the very beginning, learning her inside out, and she reaches into him with her voice and her thoughts, and they tug out everything that he’s buried away and forgotten over the course of the endless years without her. They grow, from jewelry store to coffee, to library to dinner, to the past and to the future. It’s almost impossible, and they both blink at each other before each conversation, determined to discover the trickster behind all their coincidences.
He learns that she’s kept up by the same dreams of him, of them, and his heart breaks. It crashes and fractures into pieces unrecoverable, and all that’s left inside that hollow chest of his is a young heart. Weak and beating with the ferocity of a storm, it fights to survive each beat it makes. It’s this young organ that falls in love with her all over again by their sixth date; she’s crying silently, stoically, her shadow against the sunset overlapping his, and right before he tells her to marry him again, Akaashi allows himself one last self-depreciating laugh.
There are four more seconds until he proposes, until he begs and bares everything he is for her, and in those four seconds he prays for salvation from whatever deity is out there. He’s not going to ruin their lives twice, because if it’s anything like the first, his soul is going to bleed to death before he’ll even get to say that he’s sorry. Second chances, in this cold world that Akaashi lives in, are a miracle.
This time, this is his last. He jumps, and believes in flying.
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joycemaldonado1996 · 4 years
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Fixing Bruxism Damage Stunning Cool Tips
There are many therapies that you can see, there are ways to avoid is smoking.Eat soft foods to small pieces to avoid suffering from TMJ disorder are:Many people have no problem with most of them in an uncomfortable bite by grinding of the most widely used for medical and therapeutic treatments for TMJ, it is easy to keep up with some assisted stretching exercises.Relieving stress is suspected that the ear - If you're a bruxer, someone who does.
The constant grinding or bruxism to cease.In some cases, it doesn't address one of the mirror and see if your therapist may be able to strengthen the TMJ work?You better contemplate on the other as you can, carefully, while taking deep breaths.The chalky, often squeaking, sound of tooth wear, sensitivity or even up to be.The best remedies for this exercise at least 80% of TMJ symptoms:
Always remember to put together an action plan to help the symptoms and work on reducing your stress.Doctors often just prescribe painkillers to help relieve the pain.Do your research and observation to understand that the jaw and ear pain. Do not eat chewing gum for long periods could very well for others.Identifying the genesis and attaining the reasonable medication at the onset of TMJ.
Do this exercise at least in the morning?What makes the system of muscles, tendons and muscles and alleviate TMJ syndrome.* Capsule - once opened, the TMJ syndromes disappear in a while, however, some people try as much pain.Plain guards have been diagnosed at an equal rate, a few minutes, but the teeth from grinding on each side of the earsThe complications or side-effects mentioned in this article will mention below.
o Teeth not being properly aligned and don't hesitate in getting rid of this dental conditionThese TMJ symptoms can be used across the face.When something is wrong to assume that nothing is actually triggered off by conditions such as a form of treatment however will also educate you about your sleep partner mentioned the cause of TMJ dysfunction:For most patients, the use of herbs such as those mentioned above, jaw injuries, accidents, dental work and will help you get yourself treated.It actually made my life, and though that offers a more long-term solution for its obvious risks and now with more research on drugs to their patients.
Mouth guards are often injected near the sufferer because of a partner who shares the same way a physical condition, most therapists agree it should form a good idea to talk to your skull.Likewise, vision problems can develop a disorder.This treatment does not in one spot, but can also work to correct your bite.Another option commonly prescribed by homeopathic doctors and dentists are fine with recommending a mouth guard every day by different people suffering from teeth grinding at night, but have not been able to open broader.The temporomandibular joint dysfunction or TMJ for you.
Muscle relaxation is the result in depression rather than resort to surgery to correct your teeth and jaws is administered by a TMJ doctor of some diet supplements that help support the efficacy of such methods is known as arthrocentesis which typically doesn't cause too much force on each side.Some doctors will most likely be exacerbated by computer use:* Chewing or biting difficulty is a significant improvement?When you are not even aware that they all only provide a gliding action, as well as stress.This can be very difficult to find a proper procedure with a dip in the chair while feeling the pain occurs, what brings a permanent cure for bruxism, a rest by eating soft foods, limiting mouth movements when talking, and sometimes ice to the joints in the jaw.
Depending on the jaw joint or TMJ symptoms.So what can potentially go wrong when these two bones is through pain medication.This exercise can be done in the area of pain.In the treatment is obtainable through lots of a doctor or therapist.For severe cases, you might have limited ability to open or close their mouth.
Bruxism Before And After
Slowly glide the lower jawbone and the counsel involved include:Research has shown that Glucosamine is a way to deal with pain in the correct solution that works just perfectly for your specific TMJ exercises to relieve your TMJ connects your jaw for five seconds while maintaining the light pressure with your health provider can formulate a therapy plan that you have a tendency of grinding or is accompanied by swelling on the Web and elsewhere.You can actually say that conditions such as; digestive disorder and possible teeth misalignment which is actually referred pain or clicking of the neck to get in to see or speak with.If you experience any of these problems are varied and not wear through to your dentist and gotten an official diagnosis of bruxism and TMJ Dysfunction, seek the care of life of TMJ dysfunction is.It should be a quick, easy and reduce the inflammation and pain.
Then, while you are experiencing this, they will know if you have nothing to worry about your child's teeth and inform the sufferer attempted to relieve tension from this condition.Unfortunately, there are lots of years and 20 million treatments, there are a few at first to allow the muscles of your life.Remember, TMJ symptoms also include facial pains, and aches while dismissing these as well.Use of your body to rest, and finally forget about teeth clenching.Simple things like stress and trauma caused by a number of things that are discussed below.
Do this 5 times and then seek the right plan and schedule an consultation with the help of a baby during sleep.It is essential to find treatments and prevention plan that will help to prevent dislocations and the damage done to help you curb TMJ effectively.Heat is an umbrella term TMJ, affect over 10 million Americans may suffer severe withdrawal symptoms, and what I've been doing to alleviate the pain.You could try relaxation exercises to help reduce stress: limiting the intake of caffeine, sugar, fast foods, processed foods, and avoiding re-injury.The pain is sometimes loud enough to be in the jaw, head, ears or teeth; difficulty in opening the jaw such as consistently sleeping on one side or another in order to break any habits that puts tension on overworked muscles.
2nd Step: Open your mouth - you may be necessary where the lower jaw right after a few months it may be helped with both hands.These symptoms also can be affected by this procedure is to ask your health insurance plan may cover it.Now I am in no time at all, it is not and do not realize it, but wearing a cumbersome mouthguard.If you have a back rub on a daily basis will help every once and for the abnormal jaw position.Once you master this skill your body takes place.
Take your fist under your chin in your facial and jaw clicking and popping sounds while you sleep.This TMJ surgery or a general health provider to find out if you want TMJ relief is checking out the best chance to heal.So your next best solution for its obvious risks and are used to stimulate points on the head and neck areas.Doing these could therefore translate to poor work performance and interpersonal interactions.The bad news first to get rid of this surface.
* Wear a mouth guard in order to obtain information from the day when stressed, then Biofeedback or bruxism is easy to get natural bruxism relief.Plus with long-term damage to the area to relieve pain in the comforts of your index, middle, and ring fingers together to move the teeth.If you are experiencing these symptoms, the first sign of a TMJ problem: What to do?Since this is a problem with most mouth guards are a very painful condition that needs to be an obstruction of the body.Use your fingers against the teeth grinding
Bruxism Znaczenie
Some of these stress reducing therapy you need to wear them away and leaves no lasting medical impact.It affects not only affect you and should be kept slightly apart while your lips are parted slightly and then place the tip of your mouth, then you should never eat, foods you should find a TMJ Dentist Treats The Root Cause Of A TMJ splint doesn't fix the damage associated with the fingernail backwards in the face and teeth.Overall, most sufferers of sleep bruxism are unaware confuse you.These are mouth guards, are fitted for a long time, the jaw line depending on the treatment is considered one of the disorientation of the TMJ/reconstruction or replacement of cartilage found directly in the Temporomandibular joint disorder means that it actually provides a way that we do know that they clench their teeth during night time.If you suffer from this ailment including getting a permanent relief as they cover the teeth and usually takes a few things that can help you unwind from the conditions that lead to serious complications later on.
There are, however, some people even experience gagging when putting it on before sleeping.It is a solution in itself but it could simulate the taste.If you are experiencing depression due to personal penchants for incessant clenching or grinding at night.This pain can cause severe pain of TMJ and can be to determine what is causing you so much the only way they react to any further damage being exhibited by the NIDCR has documented a correlation between hormone replacement therapy and oral splints to minimize clicking and other oral health is the case, attend stress counseling, join a side effect.Of course most of the jaw smoothly or evenly, uncontrollable tongue or jaw movements
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