#im. absolutely exhausted. and the amount of stuff i had to do/deal with today was a bit too much so im like. on the verge of tears | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

shotosprincess · 3 years

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BAKUGO SCREAMING AND IZUKU

( ˘ ³˘)♥︎ AAAA HIII TYSM FOR REPLYING TO THE BNHA PLAYLIST THINGY FOR FICS I LOVE YOU MWAHMWAH

anyways aaa bet !! ill do midoriya first if you don’t mind bc im currently in such a soft mood and hajdjj i just love him sm :((

— 𝙠𝙞𝙨𝙨𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙨𝙘𝙖𝙧𝙨 𝙤𝙣 𝙤𝙣 𝙞𝙯𝙪𝙠𝙪 𝙢𝙞𝙙𝙤𝙧𝙞𝙮𝙖’𝙨 𝙖𝙧𝙢𝙨

inspired by this playlist by nimbus on yt !! pls check them out ansjdjf their playlists r heaven ^^

❝ you never truly understood that about him, the way he continued to put himself through the pain, to push himself, even, past his limits and then some—

plus ultra. and now his arms were all but littered with rough scars of diluted white and blunt tan. ❞

notes ! gender neutral! reader,, best friends to lovers au ,, 2nd person pov

summary: in which your best friend deku shows up at your dorm late at night due to kacchan locking him out. he asks for bandages to stabilize his newly-healed scars, and you ask to kiss them.

genre: fluff !! <33

it went without a doubt that deku had been to recovery girls’ office more times than anyone else at the academy. it hurt, honestly; each time you saw his still-healing figure emerge from the little swing of her door, a sharp pang reverberated starkly through your chest, for though the freshly-scarred over wounds didn’t diminish his beauty in the slightest, you simply couldn’t deny that an empty eddy of sadness settled in you whenever he was in such a state.

and unfortunately for you, he was constantly in it.

his body could only take so much. and he was still so young too—the very same held true for your heart.

it’s been that way ever since the two of you had first entered ua as shining, eager students. though in all fairness you had to admit, he was...different from the very beginning. even as the prelude to his eventual rising and growth in his quirk, he had shone with a certain unmatched brilliance ever since the entrance exams. and over the years you spent together, you had watched him persevere so passionately towards the glow of his ultimate goal; to be a hero who can help others. little did he know just how much he already had. he had always been so excruciatingly oblivious and aloof to even the evidence and affects of his own kindness, and you hated the fact that so many tended to take advantage of it. of him.

though, of course, this did not mean that he was weak in any form. no, if anything he was quite the polar opposite—he had proved it time and time again, and yet it didn’t mean that he couldn’t get hurt too. the dull aching of tiredness ringing in his eyes, the one he tries to desperately to mask, the ragged marks scattered across the pale valleys of his once-scar-barren skin; he wasn’t immune to pain, to injury. and yet, he fought. you never truly understood that about him, the way he continued to put himself through the pain, to push himself, even, past his limits and then some—

plus ultra. and now his arms were all but littered with rough scars of diluted white and blunt tan.

nevertheless, truth be told, you actually admired it a great deal. his sheer determination, the purity of his motives, it was more than laudable. despite all of it, you truly couldn’t help but feel this...magnetic urge to help him. protect him. if you could soothe the pain in any way, even if it would be but a temporary relief—

three knocks clack on the door.

you and izuku’s secret door code—just a silly little something the two of you made up a few months after the dorm system had been put into motion, and all so you could sneak out to the grass-flooded yards of the building and train together.

naturally, you open the door.

“ heyyy there you are! “

your head perks up at the cheery jingling of his voice, all drafts of exhaustion and sleep deprivation washing away almost instantaneously. he might as well be the very personification of caffeine at that point, despite how direly he needed it himself.

the starry shine of his eyes meets with yours as a diluted sanguine seeped colour into his face. he turns his head away awkwardly.

you lean against the doorframe, smiling at him. “ deku...you didn��t tell me we’d be training today. plus it’s a little late right now, don’t you think? i’m already in my pajamas. “

“ yeah, um, sorry about that. kacchan...kinda locked me out. “

“ he what? “

“ he locked me out. “

“ how does that even—don’t you have separate rooms? “

“ well, yeah, but we were racing down the halls after glass today and he...got to my room before i could. well, honestly i have no clue what he’s doing over there. “ he laughs, rubbing the back of his neck.

“ oookay then. little concerning, i won’t lie. “ your shoulders lift in a shrug, arms crossing in front of your chest as your shy laugh matches his.

“ so i was wondering if...you know...i could maybe stay here for a bit? “ his voice wavers subtly, though you’re quick to catch it. the tips of his ears flush with a deepened pink.

you can’t help but silently gush about how cute he looked.

you’re quick to snap out of that too. eyes bursting open with a brilliant shock, you notice he’s fiddling nervously with his fingers as you remain absolutely, positively frozen in place.

“ i’m—what? “

his countenance immediately shifts to one of sheer embarrassment. flustered, he begins to frantically wave his hands in front of him, as if to put some sort of considerable distance between his panicking self and your seemingly-composed demeanour. and as if that would do anything to deescalate the tension which was only progressively building between your equally-timid selves at this moment.

“ ohmygod i didn’t mean it in a weird way or anything! i’m sorry, i’m sorry, i’ll just—i’ll just go— “

you slide against the wood a little bit, pushing your weight against the slightly-agape door, so it swung open even further to reveal the, admittedly, fairly-messy state of your room. draped carelessly on the side of your bed, a sweater you had taken off earlier because the temperature of your room had suddenly decided to heat up an unreasonable amount. countable cups holding shallow pools of hour-old drinks scattered throughout nearly every shelf. a creased textbook splayed out, cover up on your desk.

yep. definitely looked like someone’s lived here.

“ i mean...you could come in if you want. no one’s stopping you. it’s a little messy though, i haven’t found much time to properly clean it yet, with exams coming soon and stuff. “ a small smile accompanies your growing blush, despite how much you were trying to play it off as nonchalantly as possible.

psh, right. as if letting him in your room—something you had never done prior in the history of your friendship—wasn’t a big deal in the slightest.

his eyes shoot wide as his arms flail about. you have to keep yourself from laughing at his silliness.

“ uhm, i mean...only if that’s okay with you! “

“ yeah, yeah, of course! you need a place to stay for now, after all. who knows when bakugou’s gonna let you back in? “

“ yeah, i guess you’re right. well, i mean, if you really don’t mind— “

you playfully roll your eyes, giggling as you shove him into your room.

“ oh, quit it with the politeness. you’re too nice, you know that? “

“ too...nice? “

“ too nice. “ you reiterate, giving his shoulders a little squeeze.

his head lolls to the side as he carefully lowers himself onto your bed, his sweater shifting with the subtle movement.

for a few moments, the space between you is occupied with a simple, comfortable silence. it’s refreshing, really. a welcome difference from all the boisterousness of the academy. you loved the action and everyone’s energy, of course, but sometimes what you really needed was really just a simple break from everything. to do nothing but exist for a little while, to simply be without the constant pressure of having to get up and jump into action all the time. just for a few moments. and so you relished in these said moments spent with him, for who knows when the next time you could ever be with him like this again would be?

and then his voice fills that void of silence, but you’re not disappointed in the slightest.

“ hey. “

“ yeah? “

“ you don’t happen to have any extra bandages, do you? “

“ bandages? for what? “

he clenches his fist, flexing the muscles in his arm. “ for...stability. just in case. i can’t afford for my arms to get hurt more. “

“ oh. well, uhm...i think i have a few spares in my drawer! “ you push yourself off the bed, leaving the comfort the soft sheets brought about, pulling open a tiny drawer. taking out a transparent box of bandages, you jump back onto the plushness, sitting cross-legged directly across from midoriya, who’s already presenting his arm.

your lips silently part as your fingers wrap themselves around the thick ivory fabrics of bandage, rolling them around so you could wrap them around him.

another pause of wordless silence falls.

“ hey deku? “

“ yeah? “

“ could i...could i kiss your scars? “ you whisper, afraid that he’d get mad, though you knew he was anything but the type to do such a thing.

the meadow depths of his eyes kindle a cozy hearth within you as his initial surprise quickly softens, melting away into what could only be described as the most endearing smile to exist.

“ sure. “

jagged patches and uneven streaks of faded cloud white and prominent earthy tans decorate his arms, and you can’t help but bring the rosiness of your lips to meet them. you decide begin with the ones littered along his fingers.

one kiss for the scar resting within the curved dip between his thumb and index.

“ for every time you used just a flick of your fingers to defend everyone back then, when you didn’t even have full control over your quirk. “

a longing sigh leaves him as he reminisces briefly on the memory. you place a soft kiss upon the scar resting at the side of his pinky.

“ for every fist you made with this hand, for every punch you’ve delivered in the name of other’s safety. “

a drop splashed onto his arm, trickling down and tainting the scars etched into his forearm with a subtle, diaphanous sheen. you look up through your lashes, and a prominent gloss coats the kindness of his dark emeralds. your hand comes up to carefully caress his cheek, cupping it gently as the pad of your thumb swipes beneath his eye, wiping away the upcoming tear. your features are knitted together in concern.

“ are you okay? i can stop if you want me to— “

he takes your hand in both of his, squeezing as if to keep you there forever. “ no, don’t. please.“

it’s a tiny whisper, a softened plea into the dark quiet of the night, as if he were ashamed for wanting to be taken care of. your brows curve downward as you pull your twined hands to your lips, tenderly planting your lips where your skin kissed his.

“ hey, hey. it’s okay. it’s okay. “ you hush him, running your free hand through his thick tendrils of vivid, verdant green.

he leans into your touch, nodding at you as if to urge you to continue, which you gladly accept.

you shift a little closer to him, kissing the thick mark of serration painted into the skin of his wrist.

“ for every countless moment you’ve sacrificed for your dream. “

another kiss to the one just above it.

“ for every hour bled into the night that you spent helping me train. “

your fingers dance along his arm, finally stopping at the scar stretching from his elbow and dragging upwards. as per routine, your lips come down to delicately kiss it.

“ for every ‘ plus ultra! ‘ you’ve ever passionately shouted. “

little giggles left the both of you at that.

your touch trails to the scar just beside it, kissing it as well.

“ for every life you’ve ever saved. “

you look him in the eye. holding his arm like this, you were so close to him. and yet, you didn’t want to pull away. if anything, it was the very last thing you would ever want to do. he matched your stare, a certain sense of longing displaying in your gaze as it reflects off of his. the prolonged stare lasts longer than it probably should, longer than what best friends should probably look at each other this closely, this intimately for. the moonlight dimly shines through your window.

and then it happens.

his lips collide with yours in a captivating symphony, hands going straight to twirl through the locks of your hair as you wrap yours in a loose loop around his neck. everything feels as though it had all snapped into place, and the tension you had felt before was all completely dissipated now, displaced into the passion in which this kiss exuded. it was earth-shattering, galaxy-shredding. it felt as if even pain itself could never reach either of you, not in this moment.

this moment was for the both of you, and no one else. in this moment, in his arms, nothing and no one could hurt you.

he pulls away, stunned, lips parted with a saturated red. you stare at him with just about the same level of blankness, of utter shock at what you two had just done.

but then the realization catches up with him, and he is pulled out of the daze. much to your surprise, he doesn’t move away. if anything, he pulls you closer, enveloping both your hands within his just as he did before.

and just as you had done earlier, he brings them to his lips.

“ and that’s for every ‘ i love you ‘ i’ve ever wanted to say to you but never had the guts to. “

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microsoft-boi · 5 years

Text

Hallelujah | Chapter Two

summary: Not all relationships are perfect, and not all of them can last forever. Some relationships don't have to last. Sometimes, it's enough just to be able to call someone your friend for the rest of eternity.

pairing(s): platonic AND a little romantic royality, background analogical and qpr dukeceit if you squint

warnings for this chapter: none that i know of, lemme know if theres something i should tag!

word count: 1,254

a/n: im not particularly proud of this chapter, but its what i have, so yall are gonna have to deal with it. i think you'd be surprised when i say i spent three or more weeks on this. im a huge procrastinator, shhh

Previous | Next

+++

Roman whined in pain when we was woken up the next morning by an annoying alarm. He pried his eyes open and turned on the alarm on his phone before turning back over in bed and burying his face into his pillow. About five minutes later he finally woke up and slipped himself out of the red blankets, making his way out of his room to start off his day. Hopefully, it wouldn't be too chaotic today at work. The usual wasn't too chaotic, but days like today weren't very necessarily calm either.

After grabbing a small bag and clean clothes to change into Roman went into his bathroom and took a quick shower, mostly only to wake him up further. Coffee was his go-to but honestly, he wasn't feeling it for coffee today. Roman didn't want to make his already growing headache even worse with vast amounts of sugar and sweetener. While it wasn't so good for his headache, he also knew it would be best if he started to lay off all of the sugar he was constantly eating and drinking. When you work part-time at a mini bakery you pretty much live off of sweets.

Once Roman finished freshening up for the rest of the day he realized that it was only 10:40, so instead of running straight out the door he sat down on his couch and scrolled through his phone for a bit. He had an alarm set for the time he should leave anyway so he didn't bother spending most of the time staring at the clock hanging above his TV.

The alarm set on his phone went off about half an hour later. Roman stood up from his spot on the couch and walked over to the front door of his apartment, putting on his light jacket and out the door he went.

Since the bakery wasn't that far away Roman could easily walk there without being totally exhausted when he got there, so he decided that it would be nice for him to walk there today. Roman didn't usually get to walk to many places since he lived a little far from any kind of shops, stores, any businesses, etc.

The walk there wasn't very interesting. That was the sad part about living where he did. All there was is a small park right next to his apartment, a couple of other houses scattered around, and mostly empty roads. Somehow, though, the sky was always just enough to set off that creative spark in Roman's head and that was all he looked for now. When he first had to move out of his parent's house he was really disappointed. Roman's parent's house had a truly breath-taking view from the balcony and it was absolutely beautiful. Especially since they lived on the side of a mountain. Gosh, and the sunset and sunrise were always the best. Right before they had dinner the entire family would go over to the large window at the side of the house and stare as the sun went down, and Roman would always sketch out little bits and pieces of their surroundings as it turned darker and darker.

Roman snapped himself out of his little flashback as he reached his workplace. He stepped inside, the tiny bell just above the door ringing softly. A boy popped out of the door that leads back into the kitchen, waving towards Roman with a perky smile.

"Morning, Ro! Vee's waiting for you in the backroom!" He said, sneaking back into the kitchen without another word or glance at the other.

Roman smiled at him despite not being able to see it anymore. He started to make his way over to the kitchen and slipped off his jacket, replacing it with a pastel yellow and pink apron. Roman quickly stepped out of the kitchen and went to the back room, where he expected Virgil to be standing there with an expecting glare or scowl. Nothing out of the ordinary really.

What was surprising was that Virgil wasn't the one standing in the spot he usually would. Instead, however, it was another coworker, who's name tag read "Wallace Pine". They were smiling up brightly at Roman, which sort of scared him, holding a red rose in their hands. Roman hesitantly took it in his own. Without another blink he was dragged off to another part of the room, being handed an assortment of colored roses and cards. At the other end of the room, Virgil stood, holding a button in his hand. The other hand was stuffed in his jacket pocket, which Roman didn't pay much mind to.

Once he was pulled right in front of Virgil he stopped abruptly, a surprised yet confused look stuck to Roman's face as he stared directly into the others' eyes. Virgil only laughed. That only confused Roman even further.

"Chill, dude, I'm not firing you or anything. This does sorta seem like something I'd do to fire someone though, doesn't it?" He asked, still chuckling softly.

"I-Uh-"

"Shut up and listen."

Roman snapped his mouth shut. Virgil cleared his throat to speak.

"So, lately you've seemed super stressed out about college and all that, so we talked about some stuff and we're gonna give you an extra day off, just so you can get some extra rest so you can work properly for the next couple of weeks," Virgil explained, handing the pin over to Roman to take. "And congrats, I guess. You made it through college and you don't have to ever go back to that hellhole again." Roman laughed, taking the pin and sticking it to his apron. "To keep it shorter so we can get back to work, you've done surprisingly well for a stressed college student just starting to graduate and finally get a life. This is somewhat of a way to say goodbye too, I guess. I've realized you might not come back because you may actually have a life now."

Roman dropped his smile, picking at the flowers in his hands. "I'm not going anywhere anytime soon. I promise, dude," He said, smirking at Virgil. "I'm gonna stay here for a little while longer while I try to look for a job that doesn't think I look like a tall twelve-year-old."

Virgil laughed again, patting Roman on the shoulder. "Well, no matter what happens, we just wanna make sure you're happy and doing alright. When you do leave, give us a call every now and then, alright?"

"Of course."

Virgil stood silent for a moment, glancing over to a small box covered in pink wrapping paper and a gold bow stuck to the top of the box. He walked over to it and picked it up, walking back over to Roman.

"We made this for you. It's full of old photos and your old apron is stuck in there somewhere," Virgil said, handing the box over. Roman rested the roses on top of the box and took it in his arms. "Now you go take the rest of the day off. You deserve it, man. And before you try to protest, we got this. I'm gonna be working for you today. I'll make sure to tell your usual customers that you're off today for graduation."

Roman nodded, a soft smile taking over his features as he stared down at the box. "Thanks, Emo Nightmare."

"Shut up and go before I change my mind."

"Okay, okay! I'm leaving!"

#hallelujah fic #royality #analogical #sanders sides #roman sanders #virgil sanders #deceit sanders #logan sanders #patton sanders #remus sanders #dukeceit #qpr dukeceit #patton writes

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ocular-intercourse · 5 years

Text

ugh, family update

made a thread on twitter and thought i might as well post something here, cause it does help me get stuff out of my head and heart when i write it down like that

so remember how my family wanted to have a meet-up so we could all talk about me being trans or rather transitioning in the future, that was today

and i had talks about the topic with most of them before, my younger older brother being the most supportive and understanding, my oldest brother generally not caring what i do as long as i am happy, but doubting if i’m not just looking for attention, and my parents just being worried i could regret things (mind you they probably have more problems with it, but thats the one they voiced) the general consensus being that they want me to be happy and if that’s something i have to do, i should do it. so far so good, could be much worse. it’s just..

i mean.. it’s already being hinted at in the reaction of my parents and my older brother, that they wonder if i’m really trans, or if i really need to transition, or if i’m not just making myself believe that for whatever reason, their theories reaching from ‘out of spite’ to just ‘a crapshoot at trying to find happiness’

but the whole thing just unearthed how they, mostly my oldest brother, my mother and my sister, do not believe i’m actually autistic (you know, because they know better than professionals or myself) and if i fake that, or falsely believe in that, then the same applies to me being trans too i guess

and my reaction to someone saying they don’t believe in my diagnosis is generally ‘then you don’t know what autism even is’ and thats the whole point. my oldest brother even agreed to that, but somehow still is sure i’m not autistic?? how does that even work? i got mad at that, and my sisters reaction was ‘see, you’re mad, you can’t be autistic’ which is absolute definite proof that she never even bothered to learn what aspergers even is. and they must know that?? that they never informed themselves, but somehow they also magically know that i can’t be autistic?? and i just really don’t know how they justify that conclusion in their minds? what are they basing it on? cause it’s certainly not medical or scientific fact. for whatever reason they just don’t WANT me to be autistic, they prefer to believe that i’m either delusional, lying to myself or to them, or that i’m just faking to avoid doing certain things, and that i just have to get over it or try harder, and i just don’t know where the benefit is in believing that?? why are they trying so hard to deny me this diagnosis? really what is the point? that i might realize they are right and magically all my symptoms will disappear? they are just hellbend on denying me the help that i need, the sense of reassurence the diagnosis gives you, knowing that you are not broken, that there is a reason for all the things that are so hard for you, for the chance that what? that i just force myself and start torturing myself till i’m maybe finally suddenly healed and it turns out it was all just imaginary or had other sources?

there where all this fun little nuggets in that discussion, from my brother finding it weird that i’m so informed about autism (which is supposed to mean i informed myself and am now using that to fake it, i guess?) to my dad saying me finding out i was autistic was a relief to me but it obviously didn’t make me happy in the long run (??? so now i’m clearly looking for a new strategy, transitioning, in hopes that maybe it will stick this time - even though i am not even unhappy but they don’t get that either), to the general ‘oh i have problems with that too, that’s normal’ that is completely missing the point of any chronic condition, and my mother’s ‘but i’ve seen you positively or even confidently interact with other humans before’ that’s just an other version of her ‘but you bought jewellery last month so i thought you were over that whole trans thing’.

i don’t know what the whole point was, for my brother to make that connection, from the talk about being trans to him saying he didn’t believe in my autism diagnosis which started this whole discussion. but somewhere along the line he said that this topic - of them not taking me seriously - obviously made me mad, and that that could be my motivation to want to transition, to show them how much i really mean it, instead of actually wanting to, that i’m in danger of just wanting to prove a point and just not being aware of it.

and i hate this so much, this idea that i’m just not aware of the “real truth”, that i have no control or awareness of what i am doing or experiencing, that i am deceiving myself, willingly or subconsciously. and surely such things might happen, that someone is not aware of their true motivations and regrets doing something when they ‘come to their senses’ or whatever. but at this point they are assuming that is the case with everything i do. they are completely denying that i have any competence or self-awareness, and im not exactly sure why. to me it just sounds like they think i’m weak and lazy, trying to find ways to avoid things, that i just want attention, or maybe that i’m just too dumb to make the right decisions, or i just think it’s cool to pick weird things to identify with. and the whole time, when i tell them they don’t take me or my experiences seriously, they deny that that is their intention. where is the self-reflection there? what else are you doing please tell me. even if you are doing this under the umbrella of ‘just worrying about me’, the message remains: you have no idea what you are doing, but we do, your experiences are wrong, and you choose to see them this way to cover up what the real problem is, and then to avoid dealing with it like a functional human would, cause that would be work. (as if i’m somehow currently not working on my problems) at this point they are just doubting my intellect and my character, and worst of all they think i’m either not aware or in control of my actions in any way.

i don’t know what makes me the most frustrated about this, i feel desperate and absolutely powerless, i just cannot make them understand or believe in me or my words. i hate that they just assume i’m a liar, to myself or them, and there is nothing i can do to change or proof anything, because in the end they would just not take my attempts at that serious, again. i just feel utterly inferior, not at all because i am autistic or trans or asexual, just entirely because my word is apparently worth nothing.

with the trans thing i know, at least, that it is a passing thing, they will see, sooner or later, that i meant it, that i won’t regret anything. the autism thing is a whole other topic. last week i searched for some research papers and articles to send to my parents so they maybe gain a better understanding of what aspergers is, and how it shows itself in women. maybe i will send the articles to my siblings too. if they don’t care enough to look for information themselves, maybe they would read those. my therapist has also offered in the past, that i could bring my family to a session, so we could talk this through and maybe they will believe her, even if they continue to ignore the other professionals that made the diagnosis. i’m just afraid they would just latch onto anything the therapist might say that could in any way be construed as evidence against the diagnosis as definite proof that it is not true, cause thats what they’ve been doing till now, looking at a thing that might not fit, and deciding that’s enough to form an opinion. i will see my therapist this week and will talk to her about it. i’m just emotionally exhausted by this whole topic, i keep trying to find ways to indefinitely explain things, it’s just.. my siblings are very accomplished people, my oldest brother especially, being a chief resident neurosurgeon and all, and if they have come to a conclusion with their rightful confidence in their intellect, i believe it’s going to be hard for little old apparently not-accountable me to prove to them they are wrong, especially if they just want to hold on to the thought of ‘nothing’ being wrong with me for whatever benefit it gives them.

they have no idea the amount of guilt i feel, not functioning properly, noone would choose this as an ‘easy way out’, being lazy or defiant, if there is also a way to just not be like this indefinitely. they also don’t understand how much the diagnosis has helped with this feeling, and with finding a way to excist in society without literally driving myself insane.

#personal #i'm just tired #i wish you could somehow make a person feel what you feel to make them understand?#here take this bit of me #try it on for a day and then tell me again how you don't believe me

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mxrvelfreak · 6 years

Text

spideypool fic ; pt 1

smaknfdkjsal im trying i really am, so here is this, i hope you enjo Y?

[[FYI, PETER IS OF AGE!! no underage shit going on here]]

-----

[Peter Parker]

The cold night air rushes through my suit. I push my mask up to take a bite of my sandwich. I sigh of relief. It feels nice to look over the city from a high up view (the top of my apartment building), and watch all the city lights and cars. I can even see groups of people walk together to a near club or to a restaurant.

College has been stressing me out. I’m lucky enough to have Ned and MJ in the same college, but the work amount is more than I thought. I still live with Aunt May, mostly because I don’t want to leave her alone, I’ve all she’s got left, and also because I’m broke as hell.

I finish my sandwich and take the time to stretch my muscles. I love moments like these, where nothing else in the world matters and all I pay attention to is my senses. Talking of senses, the back of my head tingles weirdly, and I know something is up. I whip my head to the direction of my tingles and pull my mask down. I run and sling to building to building until I finally sense that the trouble is right here.

It’s a dark alleyway, but I can hear two male voices. I crawl down the building to reach the ground. Goddamnit, Deadpool.

“You killed your own fucking grandma, you sicko. A defenseless sweet grandma. You’re going to learn your lesson by me, returning the favor,” Deadpool says, holding his katana, and raising it up. I instantly web his hand and pull him back to the ground. I web the grandma-killer to the wall.

“Again, Deadpool?” I say. He groans and looks up at me.

“Sorry, baby boy, I couldn’t help myself!”

“Told you not to call me that,” I mumble. I blush under the mask at his nickname for me. I’d die if he saw my blush. I web the criminal in a little cocoon so I can drop him off easily at the station. Deadpool tends to get a little violent. Actually, a lot. He promised that he wouldn’t do things like this, but here we are. I can usually calm him down easily. “C’mon, help me take this guy to the station,” I say, dragging the trapped murder.

“I’d love to sweetums, but you forgot the super-strong-sticky-jizz that’s stuck on my hand.”

I sigh and help him get unstuck to my web.

We drop off the murder at the station, with Deadpool waiting a street away. If he got arrested, he’d get multiple life sentences in prison with just the evidence they have on him. Why am I friends with this guy? He’s straight up a murderer, but yet he can make me blush with only two words. I met him a few months ago, when he yelled at me “IT’S WEDNESDAY MY DUDES, AHHHHHH.”

I leave the station and tag along with him. I’ve never actually had someone who actually wanted to fight with me, so yeah, I guess I’m kind of clingy to him. Even though he drives me absolutely insane. “Need a walk home? It’s late out, and I don’t want anything bad to happen,” he winks at me.

“I can walk and defend myself, Deadpool,” I say.

“Call me Wade, from now on. Just so you know what to scream when I fu--”

“YEAH! Nice name!” I cut him off. There was something up with him today, he never used this much dirty jokes. Plus, why was he even telling me his name? Did he really trust me that much? Should I tell him my name? What the hell are you supposed to do?!

“You alright? You froze up on me,” Wade poke my cheek.

“Huh? Hah, sorry,” I awkwardly say. I realize we’re almost at my house, and I stop walking. The last thing I want is him knowing where I live. “Well, uh, this is where I gotta leave,” I say, painfully awkward.

“See you ‘round, baby boy.” He waves and turns around to leave. I bit my lip.

“Wade?”

He turns around and tilts his head. “Just call me Peter.”

I can see his mask shift into a smile.

“Okay, Peter.” He waves and then skips off. I don’t even realize I’m smiling.

My eyes flutter to close. I gotta pay attention in this class. I’m so tired. I shouldn’t have stayed up that long outside, but then again, I wouldn’t have stopped that murder, and Wade killing another bad guy. Wade. Jesus Christ, that guy is always on my mind. I’ve never seen him actually violent. He’s always so goofy and stupid with me, even though I know he’s broken inside.

Sometimes I wish I could take off his mask. Even if he tell me his face is messed up, I still want to. It’s like I can hear his smile. My stomach does a flip whenever he laughs. I don’t think I’ve ever had this much of a crush on a guy. Like yeah, Chris Pine is the hottest human being on the earth, but it’s not like he can make me feel what Wade makes me feel.

“Peter?” Ned nudges me.

“Huh?” I jump.

“What are you thinking about?” Ned winks at me. “About WaDeEe?”

I visibly choke on my spit. I told him everything when I got home last night. Surprisingly, he was awake, crying about his student loans. “Ned-- stop.”

“You’re not denying, Petey!” Ned giggles. I groan and roll my eyes.

I get home and fall onto the ground from my heavy backpack and exhaustion. I grunt and push my backpack away and lay in a fetal position.

“Peter, someone is here to see you!” Aunt May chimes.

“In a minute,” I grumble. I hear someone walk over to me, and they smell heavily of expensive cologne and faintly shawarma.

“Get up, kid. I gotta talk to you,” he pokes me with his foot. I look up, and of course it’s Mr. Stark. I rub the tiredness out of my eyes and get up. I run my hands through my hair to try and look at least decent, but I know I look like a zombie, and Mr. Stark’s concerned stare proves it.

“Alright, well, I’m going to go run some errands and leave you two at it, okay?” Aunt May smiles. We both nod. Aunt May knows about the Spiderman thing, and she’s often strict about it, so I do still have to sneak out, but she’s more comfortable when I’m with someone like Mr. Stark with me. Aunt May leaves and Mr. Stark instantly starts to talk.

“You’re becoming friends with Deadpool?! Peter, you have no idea how dangerous he is! You have to stay away from him,” Mr. Stark sternly yells at me.

“He really isn’t that bad, Mr. Stark,” I grouse.

“Peter, do you know what kinds of crimes he has commited?!”

“Yes! I do. He’s not doing that stuff anymore,” I’m lying a little on that one. He’s trying to stop, but thanks to me, I’m helping him.

“I don’t trust him to be around you.”

“Stop acting like a dad. I didn’t leave my class to be lectured again,” I groan.

“I may not be your father, but that doesn’t mean I don’t love you like one.”

Wait, hold up. “You love me?” Honestly, Uncle Ben has been close on being a father, but he’s dead. Mr. Stark has been really close to being one of them. My pops and my Uncle Ben. The problem is that if I do start becoming attached to Mr. Stark, something bad will happen, and then he’ll be gone.

Mr. Stark just looks at me. “I care about you, kid. And if anything were to happen to you, especially because of him-- I wouldn’t know how to deal.”

I look a him for a second and tackle him for a hug. “Oh--! Okay.” Mr. Stark awkwardly pats me on the back and head. I feel safer whenever I hug Mr. Stark, I guess that’s why I like hugging him. Plus, he smells good. He pulls away from me.

“Don’t worry, by the way. Wade wouldn’t hurt me,” I say. Mr. Stark raises an eyebrow.

“Why are you so sure about that?”

My body decides to blush. “It’s-- I-- he just wouldn’t.”

“Do you have something to tell me, Peter? Is something going on between you two?”

“What? No-- pfft. I’m not gay, what are you talking about? Vaginas, am I right?”

Mr. Stark looks at me unimpressed. “Peter, I am gay. I’m dating Stephen-- I thought I told you this?”

“WHAT?!” I scream. Mr. Stark looks at me weirdly. “I-- what? I never knew?”

“I know a gay when I see one, Peter.”

“Fine. Maybe I’m bi, okay? And maybe he’s been like flirting with me hardcore, and maybe I kinda have crush on the guy, but look, I can’t imagine him hurting me!”

Mr. Stark sighs. “Maybe it’s because you’ve got a huge crush on him. Just, please, know what you’re doing. If he ever comes as close as laying a finger on you, I’ll pay him 10,000 to stay away from you, I swear.”

I laugh and nod. “I gotta go now, but take care, and don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.” Mr. Stark fluffs my hair and exits the door. That was weird. I laugh a little. Mr. Stark came all the way here to warn me about Wade, even though he could’ve just called me about it.

---------

wait for pt 2!!! ;) thanks for reading!

#spiderman #spideypool #deadpool #spideypoolfanfic #spideypoolfic #fanfic #gay #marvelfanfiction #mcu #tonystark #peterparker #wadewilson #gayfanfiction #gayfanfic #fanfiction #auntmay

18 notes · View notes

magicalgirlpropaganda · 3 years

Text

Things that are hot and sexy (because i do them)

• being unable to cite sources no matter how long you spend on it or how long you try

• getting a boost of motivation to work but on the wrong thing

• actually don't mind doing school work and have a thirst for knowledge but hate failure and not having time to finish assignments

• "wow i can't believe i finished all my assignments for the week! So fast. I have time to study and actually perfect my work and get better grades" *gets more assignments* *cries*

• i can't meet my own high standards

• being so stressed because of mom that i have horrible mood swings and im in a constant state of rage and anxiety

• being relieved when my friends invite me to do things because then i see it as an obligation and im "forced" to go (even though they'd understand if i said no, i see it as an obligation for my own mental wellbeing)

• wanting desperately to help others but struggling to even take care of yourself

• i can do the work, i can handle the workload. But i can't handle the pressure of my mom checking my grades

• i know that I'm smart and i know that I can do it. Ive been working so hard and my work is paying off but i need my mom to trust me

• overeating due to stress and went on an etsy shopping spree. Had to force myself to stop "stress buying" stuff and "stress eating"

• my dumb little passion project went on hiatus because im busy. Which is fine but a bit dissapointing

• i love it here. I don't want to leave. I love the art program. The work is a lot but i love my classes and my friends and my life here. What if one day something horrible happens and i have to leave because its too expensive?

• everything in my life is going good but my mom stresses me out so much that it's no longer going good

• I'm sorry for being incompetent... Even on my medicine. I am much better off than before and i can actually think but. I can't focus and i often miss intructions on assignments unless i write down absolutely everything. Why am i like this?

• my high empathy problems are coming up again because im so emotional.

• i am fine on 6 hours of sleep a night now but i wonder how long that will last. I don't have enough time to sleep for 8 hours every night. And maybe its because i take too many breaks but if i dont take breaks, i can't focus and everything just because thoughts that don't make sense

• im so stressed. Please just let me get my work done. All i ask is to be able to just sit down, relax, get my work done. I want to do so well on the exam later this week that I bump my B to an A or just even a high B.

• at least i enjoy school. High school and before was... Much worse. I don't enjoy spending hours trying to find out how to cite very specific topics and i dislike that one of my professors is a big perfectionist and so i often lose points on assignments (everyone does) no matter how hard i try to make it perfect. And i dislike having to check canvas so often because its difficult to navigate and i swear they try to hide assignments from us. And i hate that i have so much work that some weeks i wonder if i can possibly get it all done. And i hate group projects and i hate writing boring essays. But i love my classes at least. And i want to do well. I will do well. I am going to make all A's if it kills me. I was a B/C student in high school with occasional A's. If i just studied more (i never studied), i could have been one of the best students there, i believe. I didn't study, but I'm glad I didn't because it didn't matter as long as I got ok grades and I passed. I enjoyed my youth (not that im not still young...not that those years weren't the worst). But now i have to make A's or at least high B's because I know i can and I have to prove to my mom that I can do it. Maybe if i get good enough grades, she will back off some. Then I can prove to her that i really don't need her "help".

• this is way too specific of a list

• i want a job. If only i had time for a job. I have a strong work ethic. Im a good little capitalist slave. Please give me mone- i mean. Work. Yeah... Work...

But I dont have time for a job. Im very thankful that i dont need one. But I need to grow up and get a job because it will help me in the future

• speaking of which....a job i applied for months ago just called today... A lite late, buddy. Im 2 hours away now.

• but god... I so want to work there. I hear its a great place to work and the owner is gay (aka, not going to be homophobic to me)

• i wish i had my suitemate/neighbor's life. Like loudly talking on the phone and slamming doors as loud as possible all day long? And she's an RA so she gets paid.

• im calling my mom soon and getting this shit over with. Also i have somewhere to go with friends tonight so we can kidna- i mean recruit ppl for the theatre club. Im no theatre person but i am there for my friend and to make props.

• i can't do it.

• but if i do this, ill be free....

• maybe a quick meditation beforehand. Maybe self hypnosis so i can emotionally numb myself for a few minutes... Idk if im experienced enough to do that yet... But I've been doing it for years so might as well give it a try

• have i really resorted to self hypnosis to deal with the stress of calling my own mother?

• am i really so weak that even though everything is going well, something as simple as my mom calling to check my grades once a week makes me so upset that I cry almost every day about it?

• i know what she is doing is not legal. But what can I do about it?

• my mom thinks that im incompetent as well. That's why she checks my grades. She thinks I can't do it. She didn't even think that I had the ability to live by myself. I proved her wrong there.

• im working so hard partly because of her. So why does me working hard and thus not having time to call make her upset?

• it will all be over by tomorrow.

• perhaps calling her on the phone in a public space would be better. Maybe if she realizes that im not just in my dorm....

Luckily, my mom cares a little too much about social norms. She's used against me this all my life but perhaps it could be beneficial to me.

•thats right. I can just pack my stuff i need for my work. Then ill meditate for a bit and take a tea break. Ill go take everything to a public place with lots of people and call her then.

• i don't want to bring my friends into this, it wouldn't be right. But i wish that they would just sit next to me while I was on the phone. For emotional support at least. But i wouldn't ask them to do that, especially since we haven't known each other long. But i think it would make everything better if i had someone else to back me up

• people must be sick and tired of these posts. Im sorry.

• my mom says she's proud of me, but she doesnt act like it. She used to trust me. When i was 16/17, she would say that its up to me, my responsibility, that I knew what I was doing. Now, im 18. Why does she no longer trust me? I am an adult now. It doesn't make sense. I'm more responsible than I was at that age and im an adult now. It doesn't make sense at all, shouldn't she trust me more?

• i check my own grades religiously. Why is it necessary for her to do so too? What does that accomplish?

• i have an A, 2 almost A's, 2 low B's (but i know i can get the grade up and im studying hard to do so) and one C (it was an assignment that everyone did poorly on and another homework assignment that i did poorly on because I was exhausted). I know a C is bad but it's my drawing class. My favorite class. I do well in there and i think I'm probably one of the better peforming students in there. The C was just a small mistake and since we have more work in there now, getting that grade up will not be difficult. But i feel like all of my hard work just doesn't matter anymore. It will not satisfy her either way. Even if I had all A's, she would probably still be upset that I didn't have high enough A's. One of my professors says that she doesn't give A's on projects because "mistakes happen in art and you have to accept it".

• heavy workload... Im fine doing it but... I can't do it well with the amount of time I'm given. If i just had the weekend as well and not just the rest of the week. If i had just one full day more.

• this weekend will probably be dedicated to next week's work if i can do it early

• i can't call her. It's too stressful.

• im lightheaded just thinking about it

• i have every right to be angry. I have every fucking right to be angry.

• my day should revolve around schoolwork and studying. My weekends should revolve around taking breaks and light workloads. But every moment of every day revolved around my mom instead.

• and to think... If i lived in a place where college wasnt so expensive... Perhaps she would leave me be. Perhaps my grades would be so much better and perhaps I would be happy.

#vent post #rambles #long post #rambling

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jj-ktae · 7 years

Text

Fragrance II : Chypre

Title : Fragrances

Genre : Fluff, Angst, Romance

Pairing : Jaebum x Reader

Summary : You are a perfume composer, he is a lyricist, and while you’re left with too many possibilities, he is out of inspiration. Your only bond is an unknown fragrance.

- Teaser - Vetiver - Chypre - Fougère - Leather - Oud - Neroli - Gourmand - Ambergris -

Fragrance II : Chypre

Chypre is the French word for the island of Cyprus and is pronounced “sheepra.” It refers to earthy, woodsy, and mossy base notes with top notes of citrus.

Your second day is as horrible as the first one. Bambam is all over the place, mixing essences and sniffing everything he can. You’re glad though, it makes him go silent whenever he concentrates on something, and you’ve got time for yourself. You have nothing though, excepted worries and a tiny tingle in your nose.

Jaebum’s scent is printed in your brain.

You try creating something similar, but it’s everything and nothing at the same time and no matter the amount or variety of scent you use, you can’t make it.

His scent is mystery.

It’s frustrating for two reasons. The first one is that you don’t like it when you can’t recognise a scent, the second one is that you crave the said scent.

The sound of your head against your office takes Bambam out of his momentum. “What’s happening?” He inquires. He gets up from his own working area to stand next to your powerless soul.

“When is the meeting?” You try because it is potentially the only hope for today. Your new boss came in early to inform you about an upcoming meeting with the marketing team. The project seems big, because Bambam started to work as soon as she flew out of the laboratory.

“3 p.m. I was thinking about a brainstorming. Let’s think about a concept.” He offers because this is going nowhere. You’re about to give up at any minute, and he needs you to be into it.

“What concept? I’m running in circle, Bambam.” You lift your head high enough to slide your hand under it and you let it fall back, eyes closed.

“Sensual? Casual? Suave? Fresh? Bucolic?” He proposes, hesitation filling his usually cheerful tone.

“It’s too...plain. Even if we have nothing, we can’t work the same way everyone does. I want to do something different, and I think this is what the boss wants.”

Bambam nods “You’re brilliant.” He walks to his office and comes back with a notepad.

“We want to be unique. The concept needs to be appealing to the greatest number without being too cliché. We are free to use what we want.” He notes things down and you find yourself peeking at his working hand, eyes hidden behind locks.

“So we need to mix a little bit of everything.” Bambam stops for a minute before a whine escapes his thick lips, “I’m lost, help me.”

“We can’t work this way.” You raise your head slowly, ruffling your wild locks in a nonchalant way. “We have to find a scent and put a concept over it. We can’t force the scent based on an imaginary idea.”

This only works when a brand has specific goals but here you have nothing. You can’t possibly force an idea into your head for a brand you know nothing of.

Bambam looks pitiful as he put the notepad away. “It’s going to be harder than I thought.”

And just like the day started, the meeting followed. You were not expecting much of it and you were right. The marketing project came and explained you were free to do anything you wanted. Their main objective was to follow you on whatever you wanted to create, and it was infuriating.

How many times do you have to repeat that you can’t do it before they start to believe you?

That day, you send Bambam home and stay a little longer. You spend exactly two hours mixing scents before your head start aching.

There is only one way to make you feel better. You feel ashamed, like you’re addicted to something but you have to admit it.

Im Jaebum’s scent is the only thing worth smelling.

When you come back from work, there is no trace of him. His backpack is gone, the bed is as brand as new, and even the towel he probably didn’t use is dry.

There’s still his smell, fresh and printed in your nostrils and it makes you run back outside to find the bridge where you had found him the night before.

He is not there.

You were exhausted, but you’re suddenly on fire. This situation is stressing you more than it should be when you don’t see him. It’s like you won’t ever see him again. You look around all the bridges you can find close to your place. Jaebum is nowhere to be seen.

You put your keys in your flat’s door with a heavy heart. It’s like you lost something precious and it’s making you angry. What the hell is happening to you?

But you open the door and it hits again, like a whirlpool of long lost feelings and dried memories.

Im Jaebum is in your living-room, and his delectable scent pounds in the deepest zones of your brain. He is sitting on the floor by the small table, left hand dancing over bright white paper and you only see his back, but it’s the best relief you had in years.

He doesn’t turn around when you let your bag fall on the floor, he doesn’t move when you stop next to him.

“God. I thought- I’m so stupid.” You don’t want to share your worries with him, but the thought of him throwing himself off a bridge is still fresh. “Hmm?” Jaebum doesn’t look up, but eventually his hand stops, and he glances up at your pallid features and tensed body “What’s wrong?”

“I came back home and you were not here. I thought...I thought you did something stupid.” You let your body fall on the couch. It’s like blood is circulating again into your veins, your skin going back it its initial colour.

Jaebum is puzzled, like he doesn’t understand why it would be so dramatic for you. “I went around town after I grabbed some stuff from my flat.” It’s crazy but, he feels sorry for you. “I’m sorry for worrying you” he trails off, scanning your face some more.

You snort, not mad at him. You’re high on his smell and it’s all that counts. “It’s okay.” Your eyes find his, and his tilted head looks like it’s searching for any sign of discomfort. “What are you doing?” you notice the numerous torn pieces of paper and point a finger at the pile stacking up next to his crossed legs.

He swiftly puts it under his leg. “Nothing much. Did you just come back from work?” He tries to change the subject. He isn’t good with facing his own problems.

“I looked for you all over the place.” You admit because it’s a normal thing to do when somebody is in distress. Jaebum is astonished.

“Why would you do this?” The situation in itself is already crazy enough as it is. He doesn’t mind you being friendly with him, even though he is pretty sure he doesn’t need it, but to the point of being dead worried for him?

“You were about to throw yourself off a bridge!” Your outburst shocks him. He doesn’t understand the impact of his actions over his surroundings. He has always thought he was just a detail in everyone else’s lives.

It has always been this way. He writes in the shadow for people to shine. Him not being here shouldn’t matter to anyone.

��It’s my business. I agreed on coming here because I have nothing left. I’m too proud to admit my mistakes and I’d rather hide here than face reality. It doesn’t mean we have to be here for each other.” It’s obvious, in a way. You know it’s stupid but this scent, it’s making you go wild. You can’t let it pass until you know what it is.

You agree. True. “I’m not here for you, I’m worried about another human being wanting to end his life. If it gives you the illusion that I care, I’m sorry about that.” You get up and you sound mad, something Jaebum notices as soon as you close the door a bit too violently.

No matter how mesmerizing his scent is, he is apparently one big jerk. You’re not hurt by his words, because you know you don’t actually care about him. You’re being selfish, only thinking about your own benefit and what his scent could bring into your life. Im Jaebum himself doesn’t pull you in at all. He is someone you barely know anyways.

He doesn’t move from his spot in the living-room until later that night. He suddenly has too many things to write and too little time on his hands. He decides to stop when his wrist start to hurt and his body hit the mattress of his new room like a bag of sand hits the ground.

He feels secured in the small room. Wood is covering the floor, and it is the same colour as the tiny office by the window. The view is peaceful, with buildings popping up from the floor like mushrooms and lights festooning the city in tiny dots. The bed is large and thick with bedding. The washing powder turns Jaebum into a nostalgic boy when he rolls into the bed, stretching his sore limbs.

He falls asleep right away, exactly 10 seconds after you do. You’re both too exhausted to care about each other, but you both know you’re not uninvolved in your newly found serenity.

And just like you understand the importance of his presence for your brain to function, he notices he needs your place to exist in his creative yet tortured mind.

When you get up the day after, you see him by the kitchen’s table. He is sipping on orange juice that is not yours, and munching on toasts you definitely didn’t buy.

You go to the coffee machine, your head too cloudy to deal with his strong presence.

He speaks first “Want some juice?”. He is trying to make it up to you for his cold behaviour. He just isn’t used to be around you yet.

Also, he is the worst when he composes. He needs absolute concentration.

You sip on the hot liquid and nod his way. He offers a fresh glass of orange juice with an unreadable face.

“Have a nice day.” He doesn’t know why he says it. He tries to be nice, because there’s nothing much to say to someone you met two days ago.

You drink the fresh juice fast and walk away. “Thank you.” It is too hard to be rational right now, because the smell seems even stronger now. You enter the bathroom. His shower gel is opened and you approach your nose.

Not this scent.

After a while, you take off your clothes and decide to forget about this. You still need to work on a perfume, and you know how this is going to end up: You and your assistant against the void.

Which happened, just like you predicted. Bambam is already here when you arrive, his citrus smell filling you from the first floor to your own lab. He is joyful, like he found something awesome.

“Boss! Have a sit, come come!” His thin hand adds a tiny pressure to your back, leading you to your office.

“What’s happening?” You barely have the time to comprehend, because Bambam is already putting a sample in front of your noise.

You stop moving.

“Where did you find this?” You utter. Your brain is wandering into oblivion.

“I was looking through essences this morning, and I thought we could start with a base, just to see what we could make of it. It’s...”

“Natural Oak moss.” You conclude. Everything in this base is satisfying but the most important detail is that you remember this base. You smelled it this morning when your entered the kitchen.

It is one of the element you find whenever you are close to Jaebum.

But something seems different. “You added patchouli.” Oak moss is part of a base of scents called Chypre, which includes many categories. Bambam himself wears a Chypre based perfume, but is more into the citrus part of it, with connotations of bergamot and subtle neroli. Here it’s different, it’s a mixture of wood and plants, and you understand why you thought about vetiver at first. Natural Oak moss isn’t used anymore because of it allergenic potential.

“I only added 5 percent of patchouli, even I don’t smell it anymore, how did you find out?” Bambam is chocked but his eyes are shining like you’re a goddess.

“Patchouli is the final touch, the one that lingers. Smell again, softly.” You tell him and he takes his time filling his nose. He closes his eyes and thinks for a moment before opening them again.

“This is patchouli.” You confirm and his mouth is wide opened. He can’t believe he is working with such a talented person.

“So, do you think we could try? It’s unusual to use these two connotations, but I guess it works this way...”

You acquiesced, mind already elsewhere. It feels like the first step to Jaebum’s identity and it’s energizing. You take a sharp breath, and Bambam laughs at you.

“You sound satisfied.” He offers the sample along with a genuine smile and for the first time, you smile back at him, thankful.

“You did great. I wonder why they hired me when you’re doing great on your own.” It’s true. You did nothing, and Bambam already found two base notes by himself.

Bambam rolls his eyes and decides not to answer you. If only he could have a quarter of your talent. He opens his notebook and starts writing

Base notes: Oak Moss, Patchouli.

You put the sample in front of you and stare at it. So that was it. You smile to yourself, in a way, it’s like you can almost smell Jaebum.

You spent the rest of your day looking for another element to add to your base and when nothing comes to your mind you feel frustrated, but it’s the best you can do for now. Bambam is exhausted and snoring in a corner of the lab, his long and thin legs squeezed between two chairs. You shake him to wake his sleepy body and tell him to go home.

Jaebum’s day is the best he had in years. He didn’t go out, too engrossed into his lyrics to care about the light of the sun peeking through the opened blinds. It’s leaking off his pen, like he can’t stop the flood of ideas and he feels like a mad scientist, crazy and ecstatic. He takes a break around dinner time, and when his stomach starts creating its own music.

He takes out noodles from the stuff he bought the day before. Living with you meant sharing a flat, but he wanted to provide his own necessities. Participating into daily life matters is only natural, after all.

His phone rings, and the caller ID makes him sigh. He is too hungry to face what is about to come, and his spent brain is screaming for rest.

He coughs, keeping his voice steady “Yes.” His tone is disillusioned. Jaebum barely gets call nowadays, and excepted from work, he only knows one person who can annoy the hell out of him so much.

“You remember me? I thought depression AND amnesia hit you at once.” He wants to hang up when he hears the throaty voice. It’s heavy with judgement but then again, when is it not?

“And you wonder why I don’t call you, Jinyoung.” Jaebum finishes the sentence in a sigh. Jinyoung, his best-friend, could be worse than a nagging mother.

“You’re too busy being away I guess. Artists are such a handful.” He hears steps and after a while, Jinyoung speaks again. “Where are you? I’ve been waiting in front of your flat.”

“I moved out.” Jaebum doesn’t panic. It’s like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

“What? Where? Why didn’t you tell me?” he hears Jinyoung’s car and supposes he must be about to go back to his own castle.

“It’s been a day. I moved in with a girl.” He blows hair on the steaming bowl of noodles and ignores Jinyoung’s astonished sounds.

“Ok, hang on. You moved in with a girl? As in, a special girl? Or...?” Jaebum snorts and shakes his head, forgetting about the fact that his friend can’t see him.

“I couldn’t write anymore. I rent a room in her flat.” He swallows the food like he has been starving for days.

Jinyoung laughs at the other end of the call. “You’re living with your landlord. God, Jaebum, I know you people need some sort of inspiration to exist, but to the point of living with some old lady for the sake of music...”

“She’s not old.” Jaebum doesn’t want his friend to mock you. He can finally work, he feels alive.

“Anyways. Lunch with me tomorrow, how does that sound? Be sure that I’ll come and check the person who is most probably taking advantage of your frivolity.”

Jaebum only rolls his eyes. “I have to meet with my parents. Don’t tell my father about this or I’ll beat you up.”

“Wow easy. You have always been doing everything you wanted anyways, what would it change it he was to know?”

Because he is going to push me down like dust. Jaebum thought. It has always been the same, and no matter how successful he was at some point, his father was never satisfied.

“I’m hanging up.” He announces and hears his friend object, telling him he will meet with him no matter what.

It’s not like he doesn’t want to see him. It’s just complicated. Jaebum has always been different from his environment. He grew up with Jinyoung, raised by the same nanny. Their respective parents were and still are too busy to deal with education, and while Jinyoung grew up like the sharks his father works with, he took after a quieter side, the one that tells him to do what he wants instead of chasing money.

Jinyoung often tells him he is a fool, that he doesn’t need anything else if he can have a bright future with his father’s company. He often answers that he doesn’t want to work without a purpose, and Jinyoung gets mad, accusing him of being a hypocrite who is able to work freely because of the money he spits on daily.

It’s true, Jaebum doesn’t know struggling. He was born in a rich family with a lot of possibilities. He was able to become a lyricist after a lot of failures, and his parents never gave up on him, providing money, shelter, food, and everything he should be able to get himself if he had a stable work. This is why he is so affected when he can’t write. He doesn’t know how to deal with difficulties, he who lived with all the good things of the world.

He hears the door opening and your sore body appears before him, surprised to see him home. It’s like you were expecting him to run away, again. You don’t speak when you find Jaebum, mouth full of noodles and wearing the same clothes you left him in this morning. The silence is thick, oxygen heavy with uneasiness. Jaebum blinks, slurping on the noodles before wiping his mouth hastily.

“Want some noodles?” It’s hard to catch on the words, but he moves the bowl in front of him, and you understand. You nod.

No matter how strong the smell of seafood is, Jaebum’s scent always wins over everything else. You decide to stay close because you’re slowly deciphering his smell, and you need more time to know where you’re going.

He goes to the cupboard like he has been living here for years and fills another bowl before sitting back. You’re surprise by his sudden gentleness but brush the worries off. You’re supposed to feel weirded by the fact that an unknown man is now living with you, but none of you are freaked out.

Jaebum is too happy to be productive again. You’re too drawn into your memories to stop everything.

You sit in front of him and after a couple of minutes, he speaks. It takes you out of the now soggy food.

“What’s your job?” Jaebum sounds interested, but you know he is only trying to ease the mood.

“I’m a perfume composer.” You decide not to dig further into the matter. It’s a peculiar world, something that only a few people can relate to. Most people think you mix synthetic molecules into expensive glass bottles, wrapped in glitters and hidden into luxury box with frills and furbelows.

Jaebum doesn’t sound impressed, you’re not surprised by that. “Sounds complex.” It is. It truly is, and even more when he is entering your every pore. You don’t know if you’ll ever get used to it.

“It’s not. How about you?” His face lit subtly, and he seems shy all of a sudden. You don’t know this side of him yet, and you wonder where his emo behaviour went.

He coughs, putting the bowl down. “I’m a lyricist. I write lyrics and sometimes I compose, but I mostly write.”

“That, sounds complex.” You muse. Jaebum is a tormented artist, then. It explains why he keeps on dreaming on bridges like he is filming a music video.

“Sometimes it’s complex, sometimes it’s a matter of course. I’ve been having a blackout recently.” It’s a confession, and Jaebum doesn’t know why he is sharing such a deep problem with you, a stranger.

You forget about the food “That’s why you were surrounded by torn papers.”

He chuckles. “Exactly. I’m getting there, though.”

It feels different to deal with such an opened Jaebum. He chats like you’re close, smiles sometimes, he is glowing.

That evening you learn that he uses a pen name to write lyrics. He doesn’t want to tell you, but you know too little about the music industry and he finally spills the beans.

Defsoul.

It sounds like some indie heavy metal band but you don’t tell him. Instead, you decide to go to bed. No matter how comfortable you both seem, you’re not ready to share the part about you being addicted to his scent. He goes back to his spot near the small table, and his hand goes back to a wild dance, covering the blank paper with ink. He is inspired.

He goes to bed right when you get up the day after and wakes up late for his lunch with his parents.

It’s not like he is eager to meet with them.

---

Plants. Plants plants plants. You look through the samples with haste. You know it has something to do with nature. The base note has to be about it.

“What are you doing?” You smell Bambam the minute he opens the door, but you don’t let yourself being interrupted. You know you sound like a stalker, but you smelled Jaebum’s jacket this morning, and you are sure of a thing: there was only one element left to create a frank base.

You don’t know when you switch from creating a perfume to reproduce his scent, but it doesn’t matter.

“All the samples are here, right?” The folder is huge, but it’s not enough for you. Bambam throws his vest on one of the chair and approaches your body, stifling a yawn.

“Yes. I think that quite a lot, actually.” He peeks from behind your shoulder, and sees your hands going through the numerous names, unsatisfied.

“No. No. These are generic scents. You don’t have any rare roots names, you forgot a lot of exotic fruits and most importantly, you don’t have anything uncommon.”

Bambam makes a face. He is not lost, he is adrift. “I’m afraid I don’t understand...”

“Tobacco abs, myrrh, resinoid, Balkans...” You talk but it sounds like a whole new language for your assistant.

“Well, we have listed a lot of names. Most of them were used by previous composers, but we added more. I didn’t think it needed that much to be completed.” He knows about perfumes, he has a lot of knowledge, but you’re suddenly on a whole new level and can’t be reached.

You’re suddenly talking about tobacco odours and it freaks him out.

You turn around to face him. He is an apprentice, after all. Maybe you shouldn’t go too far with him. “I have a lot of these at home.” You stop. Home, of course. Why didn’t you think about this sooner?

Bambam is expectant, but you don’t say more. He finally waves a worried hand in front of your face and you snap to meet his blinking eyelids.

“Let’s work from my place. This is what I always did.” Your offer makes him take a step back. He is not used to you being so devoted to this project.

“Are you sure? I don’t think the boss would object.” He doesn’t know what’s on your mind, but you’re a genius to his eyes and the mere idea of him seeing the place where you created such amazing products is electrifying. He can’t wait to know more about your ways.

“Good.” You glance around the room, “I don’t like this atmosphere.” You don’t mind if Bambam sees your place. At some point, you’re pretty much sure you could go with anything as long as you could find the missing pieces of this conundrum.

You’re aware that you’re turning into an obsessional mess, but it feels pleasant to have a goal. This goes beyond everything you experienced, it gives you a fuel you didn’t know you could have.

You take the day to gather some samples and ask Bambam to let the boss know about your change of plans. At the end of the day, Bambam helps you carrying the samples home. You’re a happy mind, torn between apprehension and excitement.

You open the door and Jaebum sees two huge floating boxes enter the flat. He is rubbing a towel against his wet hair but he catches your box before you can let it crash to the ground. Bambam lets his own fall with a soft thud and you’re startled when you hear a dismayed squeal, along with Bambam’s shocked face, his finger pointing at a puzzled Jaebum.

“Defsoul?!”

207 notes · View notes

simkjrs · 7 years

Text

msa ch3 asks

Anonymous said: I love how msa Izuku comes across as an honest to god cryptid: can't see his face, absolutely the kind of person you'd find at a gas station at 3 am, doesn't want attention, most likely distant cousins with Mothman

msa au is just me fulfilling all of my ‘protagonist is a cryptid’ dreams by making msa izuku as cryptid as possible. favorite character archetype: cryptid

Anonymous said: so the msa au is my life right now thank u for that & I just read through the update twice so thank you for that x2 and I had to go back and look for Izuku and Kirishima's deal when it came up again and realized oh hey Kirishima agreed not to try and stop Izuku from leaving after 3 minutes and they didn't put a time limit on that i wonder if that'll come up again (& then my brain jumped to Izuku using that Forever. "we had a deal" every time it comes up. he cannot be stopped bc kiri promised)

got it in one!! izuku will abuse the wording of that deal forever if he can. good eye!

Anonymous said: relatability of msa izuku: trying, doesnt trust feds, inability to sleep, ready to jump out 4th story window at a moments notice, anti-attention-

that’s msa izuku living the cryptid life of his dreams

Anonymous said: So wait you don't have to answer this if it's a spoiler but the collarbone blood tattoo™ is what's making deku's existence confusing to electronics, maybe?

yep, you got it! normally izuku is able to keep his presence from overtly affecting the electronics around him but scripting really starts messing with them.

Anonymous said: quirkless msa deku anon and can i just say that deku looking eraserhead straight in the eye with lie detector policeman there and him saying "i don't have a quirk" and said policeman not detecting a lie is arguably the best thing i have thought of today.

tsukauchi: tsukauchi: wh tsukuachi: how did you even do all of [gestures at ch2 events] that without a quirk? izuku: it’s a special talent of mine.

Anonymous said: I just read chapter 3 and oh my god oh my god oh my god. Your Izuku is who i aspire to be 24:7. Like everything he says makes me want to cry and laugh at the same time. You did good. <3

haha we are all aspiring to izuku’s levels of impromptu sass. im glad you liked the new chapter!

Anonymous said: I'm probs rlly late cuz I Love in GMT+1 which means 9 HOURS of difference but I love your writing. Man, dude, being from beyond time and space, you always manage to create the perfect harmony between comedy and suspense that has you giggling while trying to figure out the mysteries of the universe. Just. OH BOI.

this ask is so funny and sweet at the same time. i love you

@arinrowan said: it's kind of ironic that msa!izuku is exactly the kind of person who would benefit from friendship with/interacting with canon izuku.

msa izuku would benefit from friendship in general but you’re right. he needs the kind of quiet but aggressive support that canon izuku gives

Anonymous said: Cuz I'm trying to see if I can figure this out, by "told me about Kamino Ward", does that mean that Izuku tipped kirishima that that was where bakugou was? How did he know tho, did baku's spirit go to him and tell him that? Did izuku actually play a part in the rescue???? So many questions

THE ANSWER TO ALL OF THESE... [spoiler alert] is actually ‘yes.’ more soon...

Anonymous said: when they start asking questions abt kamino ward at some point he just gets fed up and says "I JUST DID IT BECAUSE THE GODDAMN CAT WOULDNT LEAVE ME ALONE. I DONT EVEN LIKE BAKUGOU" and the heroes are like :0? what if, we brought bakugou here?

izuku doesn’t even acknowledge that the kamino ward incident happens it’s like theyre just talking to a brick wall

Anonymous said: Izuku has no control over his own sass anymore and it's glorious?? Says "that'll be 500 yen" and looks surprised at himslef, says "now it's 600 yen" and looks downright mortified, the sass is too much for his smol body, sassmaster izuku ftw

to quote @salvainterra, “i love the fact that izuku never stops even when he himself thinks he should stop.” izuku listens to every nonviolent intrusive thought that crosses his mind and it both incredible and unfortunate. izuku is no longer bound by human limits

Anonymous said: msa izuku is the living embodiment of the "fuck this shit im out" song

ABSOLUTELY

Anonymous said: tbh when msa chapter 3 said that izuku slept 12 hours at nighteye's office, i was guessing that he would just passive aggressively sleep as much as possible for as long as they had him. won't give them the satisfaction of watching him wander around in his holding cell. hes in the middle of the interrogation and he puts his head down and goes to sleep (btw love your work!)

haha no he was just so exhausted he passed out for 12 hours. he hasn’t had a good nights sleep in weeks, as soon as all [gestures at ch2] this was over he just crashed

Anonymous said: Wow the new chapter is great!! Stellar as always. I can't help but imagine what's going on from Izuku's point of view with the spirits. Am I the only one who thinks Aizawa's spirit was trying to apologize or something when Izuku talked about not being forced into anything?

there was definitely some spirit stuff happening... i will say that aizawa’s fox spirit is the one who asked/persuaded izuku to tell aizawa what was Up with his quirk

Anonymous said: tbh i want to see them question izuku with a lie-detector quirk or something. like he'll say something positively ridiculous and everyone's gonna go "wait wtf he's telling the truth??!!?!!?!?!?!?"

hoho... well... buddy im not gonna say anything...

Anonymous said: Hello! I found your works recently and have an insane amount of time in the past few days going through it all, cause is all beautiful. I want to scream at you about all of them but you only get so many words with this so I'll focus on msa rn and I read chapter 3 of msa last night and since then I've been switching laughing at Izuku's sass, crying cause Izuku has so much angst involved him and I just wanna hug him, and screaming cause whAT WAS THAT CLIFFHANGER?!! Just what. Thanks for ur works-A

THANKS, thats the kind of reaction i aim for when i write something. im super happy you liked it!! <3

Anonymous said: Technically his quirk is "Being alive" or "Having a functioning body" but saying that would probably end with the same blank stares. As a side note, in the manga (and canon in general) they mentioned quirks are activated by the 'quirk factor energy' or whatever... Do you think that might mean that people who are quirkless just don't naturally have enough quirk energy to activate their latent quirks? it would also make some sense from an evolutionary standpoint, the glowing baby is from the first

generation that had enough of the qfe to actually manifest their quirk and after that generation the lowering number of quirkless could be attributed to those that have a deficit in the production of said energy and they might actually have latent quirks. The pinky toe missing could be the final mutation that causes them to have enough energy for their quirks to work.. The only issue with the theory I see is OFA not awakening latent quirks with it's energy jumpstart...

i think that’s a pretty good theory! it lines up pretty well w/ the worldbuilding in msa. as for afo, :3c

Anonymous said: Hey uh.. I know this is probably 100% non canon in your AU but I was re-reading your MSA fic and I misread something that made me think that Izuku is actually dead and his body is actually being run by his guardian spirit who possessed his body/took his place when he died... *sweats* Its a really weird.. dark idea but I thought it was sorta cool and you might like it..? um.. I'll just let myself out now

god yeah that would be so dark and everything in msa would actually be even worse than it was before

Anonymous said: When deku explains nighteye's quirk i can only think of that's so raven.

theyre valid questions...

Anonymous said: I spent my break reading the asks sent to you RE: chapter 3 of msa and I cannot stop fucking laughing over "look eraserhead dead in the eyes and tell him you don't have a quirk" thank GOD I'm supposed to be happy and smiley to everyone

honestly, this is conceptually such a powerful moment that i can’t not put it in the fic now

Anonymous said: msa izuka finally get set free but kiri has started following him around. States its official hero business but really just wants to see what other "cool shit" izuka will do.

izuku pulls an Official Cryptid Move (tm) and disappears while walking thru a liminal space

Anonymous said: i love that when aizawa starts asking about deku's quirk he's like, 'screw this i'm answering in riddles now'. this is such a great fic!!

Anonymous said: “It’s a secret,” he says. “A secret that no one knows, that one will suffer, and one-half loathes. Who knows if it’s true or not? The only thing we can confidently say is that it’s one thing that should not be.” Okay, so this is probably one of my favourite little scenes from your fic, partially because it sounds so ominous and badass and makes pretty much no sense. I loved your update, I was so tense the entire time I was reading it, but also giggling hysterically because /Izuku/ just - Izukus

hmm i sure do wonder where izuku got that riddle from... and what it means...

this riddle is just izuku complaining about everything because as long as he’s in this situation, he might as well make it perfectly clear how unhappy he is about EVERYTHING. when else is he going to have an audience for him complaining about his various maladies

Anonymous said: I think that a part thats particularly true to izuku's character is when kirishima makes the observation "damn maybe it IS good we arrested him so he can sleep" & izuku goes into a miniature coma for 12 hours bc being arrested presented the perfect opportunity for him to finally be able to sleep

nfdfsljndslfnjdf YEAH, everyone please stop this child it’s for his own good

Anonymous said: Reading know what i've made by the marks on my hands is really terrifying when not in Izuku's pov because you now know how scary?? it is for some other characters and Izuku looks crazy-- but you know he's not because cheesus???? This kid???????? Honestly I love it so much, thanks for your amazing writing and I want you to know that I enjoy it a LOT.

that’s the goal... showing how weird and strange and bizarre izuku is from everyone else’s point of view... i loved the outside pov bc i got the chance to show how much of a cryptid izuku is, something that izuku himself isn’t even aware of and thus would not make it into his pov

Anonymous said: anon who ((still)) hasn't read bnha here. chapter 3 of msa is amazing. i cannot get over the sheer amount of sass found in such a smol boy. also kirishima is quickly becoming my favorite character because of how supportive and caring he is. kirishima/deku is apparently now something to add to my armada of ships. for that i thank you. also i cannot wait for deku to meet spirit!one for all. it will either be glorious or horrible.

haha im always happy to introduce someone to the wonders of kiri/deku!! its an extremely good friendship... and in my professional opinion everyone should get on it and make it the Hot New Thing. as for ofa, ;3c

Anonymous said: I just thought of this but during Aizawa's interrogation I could totally see his spirit just blatantly looking away from Izuku while Aizawa is asking about his benefactor.

HAHA YUP, i love izuku saying all kinds of stuff about spirits and no one can make any sense of it and meanwhile the spirits are trying to tell him to stop. but izuku cannot and will not be stopped from passive aggressively vaguing about them. he WILL get his complaints in if its the last thing he does

Anonymous said: “I just fixed your entire Quirk, you cabbage.” I'm sorry but this. This is beautiful. I'M GOING TO GO AROUND CALLING PEOPLE CABBAGE NOW

i was worried it was a bit of an overused classic internet insult but this is reassuring :p

Anonymous said: every word that comes out of MSA Izuku's mouth is a blessing

but not to our three heroes and their intrepid intern sidekick...

Anonymous said: Shit after the msa chapter i've got so many questions about Kamino. Did the rescue occur the same with minor variations? Is AfO still down? Did All Might fckin die? Has OfA been passed down yet? I HAVE SO MANY QUESTIONS

im uncreative and unoriginal with canon events so we’ll see.... we’ll see.

Anonymous said: MSA CHAPTER 4! I just found it today and I'm already rereading it. I did not know how much I needed sassy dead inside izuku. I Love this fic so much! That cliff hanger was so good! I'm so exciting to see more of izuku's pov. I love kiri but like I can't get enough of this izuku and his thoughts and reactions to things. This is so well written. The pacing in chapter 2 was so good. It felt like a heist and then keeping the readers guessing with not knowing if he was gonna get away was so good!

thank you so much!! im really glad you enjoyed the story that much <3 <3 sassy izuku is a pleasure to write honestly, can’t wait to see him more in future chapters

Anonymous said: Ohhhhhh you should update msa! It's so unbelievably good! I love the interaction between kirishima and izuku! Like I'm so excited to learn more about kamino ward and how that's gonna affect izuku going free and keeping his identy safe

:3c

Anonymous said: In chalter 2 of the msa au, did Kirishima think anything about how Deku said "I swear to every spirit I know"?

he dismissed it as a kind of weird, niche turn of phrase. like oh, guess this guy believes in spirits and junk, but im more worried about literally every other weird thing he’s done today

Anonymous said: So does MSA!Izuku always mess with attempts to record his presence? I feel like this would be kind of a major problem when it comes to getting himself a school ID or the like. (He's going to school somewhere, so he must have a school ID stashed somewhere). You know, they could potentially use this to track his identity down. They can try contacting schools to see if any had issues with one student needing to have an excessive number of photo retakes.

nope, usually izuku can keep it under control! the blood sigil on his collarbone is what really let him passively affect the electronics.

Anonymous said: Ok so msa!Izuku says "he shouldn't" exists, and when I first read that I was really confused, do you mean he shouldn't exist in the way that he sees things he shouldn't, or that he literally should not exists and Inko has no freaking clue where he came from/he was not a planned child?

yes to the first proposal. other than that, spoilers...

#I ACCIDENTALLY POSTED THIS BEFORE I FINISHED ABORT ABORT ABORT #ok i finished we're all good now.#ask #ask compilation #msa stuff

146 notes · View notes

lorenzocqyp643-blog · 5 years

Text

laxogenin Poll of the Day

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image02

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0 notes

serenavonromvesen · 5 years

Text

September 21st, 2019.

I really don’t know where else to vent but on tumblr. I have always used tumblr as an outlet for venting and I’m reaching a point where I really just need to write out how I’m feeling, without cramping my hand writing with pen and paper.

I feel really lonely as far as friends go. I have an AMAZING group of friends, but so many of them live far away. I have my tribe and I feel I will always have that, but its never the same as having lady friends, I literally have like three or four ladyfriends that I can actually hang out with in person, and only one of them is someone I didnt meet through my boyfriend first. its not that I have anything I want to share behind him, its that I always feel like on some level they’re always more his friend than mine- and at that, I didn’t choose most of them to be in my life, they were given to me. don’t get me wrong, I’m SO grateful for anyone I do have currently in my life. I just don’t have any friends who truly understand me, and especially not that are into the things that I am. I would love so much to be able to be friends with another tattoo model in my area, and ACTUALLY genuinely have a real friendship. I emphasize ‘genuinely’ because this industry is FULL of backstabbing bitches that would throw you in front of a bus to get one more step ahead of you. I just want a girl I can hang out with all the time SO bad. and the one person here who is awesome, works like ALLLLL the time. it sucks pretty bad when you only have one true friend and they end up getting way too busy for you. she’s supposed to move away anyways she said, so I guess I better get used to it now anyways. I’m just so sad of having no girls to actually hang out with. Skyping with my best friend is great, but it just isnt the same- and a lot of time I do get put aside compared to actually going to hang out with people anyways. which i dont have here.

now, I’m SUPER introverted, nervous, shy, socially awkward AND anxious, and sometimes I have a hard time making normal conversation. in fact, I am always secretly bothered by the fact that I’m PRETTY SURE i have some form of Autism, but I would never actually say that I am being diagnosed, but I am terrified to find out. I once emailed a place to ask some questions and set an appointment, but I never heard back.. that was i think last year. Anyways, I don’t want a ton of friends or anything. I dont want to hang out every day- it’s exhausting. but I still want the option to be able to call someone up in those rare days where I do feel like going outside or seeing people, to actually have fun. I used to have that in New Jersey, my group of girls that I hang with an we all really support each other. I miss them so bad. I am SO homesick for like, the last two years now. I try not to think about it if I can help it, but I miss my friends, I miss my mom.. I hate that I’m missing my baby cousins grow up, I hate that I’ve FINALLY made a connection with some of my cousins and now I’ll rarely ever see them, I hate that I can’t do body suspensions more often, I hate that I don’t get to see my brother Sean when he visits... but most of all I do HATE New Jersey and could never live there. I just wish so bad it hadn’t been like 4-5 years since I’ve seen my friends and family. it hurts. I’m so homesick for just the strong friendships I have.

I just...know its possible. I know its possible to have the small group of friends I want. I just wish girls weren’t so...mean and competitive. I just feel so lonely. I feel like I don’t have anyone to hang out with thats a female. why is everyone so far away? I’m home alone all day every day. you’d think a puppy wouldve made me feel less alone, but really I’m a thousand times more stressed than ever. I wanted to move for a fresh start, to breathe, so enjoy peace...and as soon as I got here everyones over all the time and it just reminds me how I dont have friends of my own, and how my friends dont come to visit me, and how I never get a second to myself. I finally got the chance and heres this puppy. i love him with my life but I AM SO STRESSED!!! I’m with him 10-14 hours a day by myself and then half of the time I’m still the one dealing with him at the crack of dawn, too. I never get time alone unless he sleeps and then I have to walk on eggshells to not wake him up- AND I DIDN’T EVEN FUCKING WANT THIS!!! when I was forced to give up my other pupper, Hades, I said I never wanted a puppy again because IT IS TOO MUCH FOR ME. it puts me on edge and greatly disrupts my bipolar. i literally CANT handle it. I said I would get a dog no younger than 2 years old. I wanted a border coli so bad, maybe even a doberman because I still miss my old dog Max SO MUCH! I like bigger dogs and never really was a big fan of little dogs. I like a dog I can give a whole ass hug to, and feel protected by when I walk alone down a street with him. but no, Michael had to choose, he wanted a puppy, he wanted a small-type pure bred dog which means it’ll be twice as expensive twice as often with vet visits. but he wanted it. he insisted. and now, here we are, just like scooping the litter boxes for all 4 cats, its pretty much almost entirely left on me to do. for so so long I told myself “well he works and I dont really work, I’m home all day and hes not here much to have the time for it.” but you know what I realized? That when I worked full time at Starbucks, or when I worked two jobs at both the Smoke Shoppe AND Spencers, that I still put in the same amount of work as all of this- I was still expected to do all of this. at that, I am SO SICK AND TIRED of him asking me EVERY FUCKING DAY “will you mop today? will you do the laundry? will you do that dogs medicine? will you change the cat boxes?” periodically throughout every morning. like oh, I didn’t realize that I was a fucking 4 year old that needs direction on needing to do basic fucking cleaning tasks!!!!! the only reason I dont get to half that stuff most of the time is that I’m annoyed as fuck at being told what to do / treated that way, and that by the time he leaves for work theres been a whole fucking list of shit lined up that I now feel EXPECTED to do before hes home from work. it literally aggravates me SO MUCH just typing about it because im so fucking pissed off that he does this EVERYMOTHERFUCKINGDAY. it makes me feel angry and completely overwhelmed and then I just spend my entire day dreading it then rushing to do it right before he gets home from work. I just fucking hate it. like I’m fucking 25 years old, I know what the fuck to do to keep the fucking house clean, thanks.

at that, between the no friends, the fucking belittlement of being given a verbal list of chores every day, and the stress from puppy I absolutely did NOT ask for, I am feeling so depressed. I wanted a new house so I could ENJOY it, but instead any moment in my backyard is spent trying to get the puppy to stop eating random crap the people before us left- like glass, I cant enjoy how the inside looks because theres puppy training pads all over the floor which the floor is always dirty because of being in and out of the house with the puppy, or just even a moment of peace at all. like literally this defeated the whole entire purpose of wanting to move. its still a gazillion times better than the trailer, I still totally love this house, but because of my stress and loneliness level, I feel nearly just as depressed as before.

what doesnt help is lately Michael has been SO negative abut things. it’s like when I finally am enjoying myself, he comes through like a wrecking ball being negative, depressing, unsupportive, argumentative, and just plain giving off vibes that make me feel so down. He still makes me feel super happy like 98% of the time, but it is such a downer when hes being super negative about EVERYTHING. or when he gets my hopes up about things and then goes back on his word. he LOVES to tell me yes to shut me up then saying no when it becomes real, a mega part of why I haven’t gotten to visit my family in 4 years. and then he makes me feel SO bad about it. he has no problem bragging to everyone about a vacation, but when its just us suddenly its “I have to do this on my own” and “it’s expensive” like really? thanks for bragging about it for two months, waiting until we have it a month away to tell me its 100% on me to plan it, then complain about everything I tried to plan, WHILE making me feel like a complete and utter loser that I’m a failure at everything I try to do so now I don’t make any money. I literally fucking hate myself again. that’s where I’m at. I’m starting to find my body, my hair, my face- all of it repulsive. I hate how I look. I hate my hair and how my dreads are all lose, but I have to ask him for money to be able to fix my hair. he always tells me just ask and it isnt a problem but then when I do want to do things he makes me wait ages and puts it off or flat out complains- or if it all goes smoothly he throws it in my face the first fight we have. I just feel like such a fucking loser, that’s getting uglier by the day. and when I finally worked up the courage to go to the gym, its like pulling teeth to get him to go- I’ve been asking for a year and we STILL haven’t gone. I want to be a breakdancer SO BAD and I’ll never get to do that if I can’t go to the gym to work out. he tells me to just go but he doesnt understand that being a woman alone in public these days you’re at extreme risk of being raped and 10/10 multiple dudes will trying saying gross things and hitting on you/catcalling. I wish so so so so so bad I could go out for a day and have not a soul talk to me or look at me. what a dream that would be. I just cant go alone. its literally dangerous. scary.

I just feel so STUCK. I want to make money so I can contribute to the house and pay for what I need MYSELF. I never ever liked being someone who fully depends on someone like that. hell, a decade ago I refused to let anyone even get me a simple drink from a convenience store. it still feels uncomfortable to have to be like this. I want to be able to take care of myself. to know that if it was just me that I wouldnt just...be out on the streets. now I’m getting married and its a great relief that thats a less legitimate fear, but I still want to be able to take care of myself so that I could help my babe. he works SO hard for us and spends SO much money taking care of us, I just want to be able to pay my part of that and make HIS life easier, so that we BOTH can do more things that we like instead of just paying bills till the next check. I feel so useless and worthless. but everything I try to do I just fail at, or I’m too depressed and just lose the passion for it. or the will to do nearly anything. I really thought moving was going to change everything for me but... I feel nearly just as depressed. the environment change has definitely helped but, it didn’t suddenly cure my depression like I hoped for..

I just feel so alone, in like, literally everything I try to do. I feel like I don’t fit in anywhere. when I do think I fit in, it just turns out to be a delayed rejection. I swear I get screwed over and stabbed in the back more often than anyone I’ve ever met in my life. I’m easily forgotten and definitely easy to fuck over. I just wish people werent so hateful and selfish... all I want is to have female friends I can actually hang out with, have some help with my puppy, to talk to my fiance without him thinking I’m having an argument, to workout so I can dance, and to do something I love that makes me happy that I can make money with. I feel like I failed as a model too. I make all these plans and then.. I can never accomplish them. I often think, is it worth it really? to compete with all these girls when I dont care about competition? to be screwed over because I’m an opponent to everyone I wish I was friends with? to try and build working-relationships with photographers who seem to forget about me before I even get my pictures back? to not be paid for modeling when I spent tons of money on clothes for shoots? to not have my name out there after a year and a half? to not even be able to find a photographer that wants to shoot for publication? or be told I’m not inked enough to shoot again (the day after I got tattooed?)? I just feel like a failure. I spent over a thousand dollars on clothes for shoots, plus all traveling expenses, to have only ever profited $50 one time and then never get my edited photos back. I just feel like I’m not worth anything, that I can’t contribute or make money without making myself excessively unhappy working jobs I hate- only to be belittled there too.

I don’t even care about social media anymore. I don’t care to check instagram or post on it. why? so I can spend two hours doing makeup so I could post a selfie to write another caption telling everyone that “one day” I’ll do more? what’s the point? If only I had someone I could invite over to talk to about it :( I just feel so...unexcited by everything. like Stan in the episode about shit. I’m bored, I feel gross, I feel lonely, I’m overwhelmingly stressed, I’m growing to hate myself again, and I feel like I don’t have the positive influence I need to get better. I WANT to get better, I just need help and I don’t have anyone I feel I could reach out to that could actually help me. I just really need a friend...

#lonely #need friends #personal #feeling small #journal entry

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nawafithme · 5 years

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A Week In Austin, TX, On A $99,000 Joint Salary

Welcome toMoney Diaries , where we’re tackling what might be the last taboo facing modern working women: money. We’re asking millennials how they spend their hard-earned money during a seven-day period — and we’re tracking every last dollar.

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Today: an executive assistant working in manufacturing who makes $59,000 per year ($99,000 when combined with her husband) and spends some of her money this week on Cherry Coke Zero. We previously published a diary from this OP back in December 2017.

Occupation: Executive Assistant Industry: Manufacturing Age: 29 Location: Austin, TX My Salary: $59,000 My Husband’s Salary: $40,000 My Paycheck Amount (Biweekly): $1,660 (not including quarterly bonus) My Husband’s Paycheck Amount (Biweekly): $1,300

Monthly Expenses Mortgage: $1,550 (This includes property taxes and insurance.) Loans: $990 for two cars and one motorcycle and $100 for solar panels Electricity: $20 Gas: $15 Netflix: $12 (I share this with my BFF, and she shares her Hulu account with me.) Cell Phones: $100 Vivint Home Monitoring: $90 Car Insurance: $195 (Mine is $75, and my husband’s is $120.) Health Insurance: $32 (Through my work; covers me and my husband, plus a $20/paycheck contribution to HSA. My company puts $1,000/year in our HSA as well.) Husband’s Pension: This is awful but I don’t actually know how much they take from his check. He’s a firefighter and has no say in what gets taken out. I don’t contribute to my company’s 401(k) anymore. I previously did, but once my husband became a firefighter and gained the pension, I stopped. Savings: We have ~$20,000 in direct savings and ~$350,000 invested. The investment money came directly from an inheritance I received.

8:15 a.m. — Got to sleep in this morning because I have a doctor’s appointment. Normally I am onsite at work from 8 to 5, so I’ve low-key enjoyed having morning appointments during my pregnancy because I’ve gotten to sleep in. My husband hasn’t attended the majority of my appointments, but after a bit of arguing, he’s requested I schedule them when he isn’t working. So we get up and let the dogs out, I make myself a small breakfast of two turkey sausage links and a Babybel cheese, and then we head out. We drive separately because my doctor’s office is just down the road from my work.

9:30 a.m. — I check in at the doctor, and they ask if I’d like to make a payment. I know our HSA is basically empty since my company contribution has not yet hit, so I decide to just pay $125 today out of pocket. I know the $1,000 my company contributes to my HSA won’t cover these last two months of my pregnancy or the birth, so it makes no real difference if we pay out of pocket now or later. Luckily, my insurance has a $3,000 deductible and a $6,000 max out of pocket. So no matter what, these visits and the birth will be cheaper than my gallbladder surgery a few years ago. (I had horrific insurance then.) $125

10:30 a.m. — All done! This doctor is a MFM (Maternal Fetal Medicine) specialist, because I was diagnosed with gestational diabetes at 23 weeks. My husband had never even been to her office yet, so this was a first for him. They do a full ultrasound every visit, and he very much enjoyed getting a glimpse of our baby girl. I’m 31 weeks as of today, so there was a lot to see compared to the last scan he saw at 20 weeks.

11 a.m. — I arrive at work just in time for lunch. I get to my desk, check to make sure I don’t have any urgent emails or IMs, and then head to the cafeteria. My company gives us $30 for lunch per month and then matches an additional $30, so my lunch doesn’t cost me anything. I haven’t had to pay $30 yet this month because last month was so full of catering that I had a significant amount of rollover. Today, the options are carbs, carbs, and more carbs. So, bunless burger and side salad for me. People have a ton of different opinions and advice on how to manage gestational diabetes. My specialist told me that if the only way I can manage during the day without meds is to eat minimal carbs, I should do that. As long as I’m eating and getting nutrients, the baby and I will be fine. I find my body can handle certain carbs (rice, corn, potatoes) way better than bread or pasta. If I have any bread, my levels are through the roof. ($5.75 expensed)

12:15 p.m. — I finally waddle my way back to my desk. I’ve started waddling over the last week or so, and it’s made me move even slower. My office is almost a quarter mile from the cafeteria. It’s good exercise for me and baby girl, but also UGH, I’m exhausted. I plop down in my chair, turn on my heater because pregnant me is always cold, and start checking my email.

5 p.m. — I’M OUT! I used to spend a lot of money randomly online shopping, but ever since I got pregnant, I haven’t had much to stuff to buy. We don’t want to buy too much before our shower next month.

5:30 p.m. — I need gas. I absolutely hate getting gas. I’m one of those people who is literally zero miles from empty before filling up. I’m almost home and want to just get gas in the morning, but I also don’t want to be out of gas and pregnant at 7 a.m. when my husband is an hour away at work. So I opt to not push my luck. $32.18

9 p.m. — After getting home, cooking dinner (carnitas in the Instant Pot), and watching a couple episodes of The Magicians with my husband, we start our bedtime routine. I got bangs a while back so I can no longer wash my hair at night, so I opt for just a body shower to make tomorrow morning go faster, wash my face with an H-E-B makeup remover wipe, and then slap on some random moisturizer. My skin is wicked dry always, so I’m currently using some random lotion from LUSH on my face. It was a gift, and all I know is my face isn’t super flakey. Luckily I haven’t had to deal with any hormonal acne *knock on wood*. Lights are out by 9:30.

Daily Total: $157.18

5:15 a.m. — My husband’s alarm goes off. Since my last Money Diary, he went through the Fire Academy and became a firefighter/EMT in a city about an hour away. I’m incredibly proud of him, but his schedule has been tough to get used to. He works 24 hours and then has 48 hours off. He has to be at the station by 6:45, which means he is always there no later than 6:35. He gets up and tries his best to get ready quietly, but I always wake up to give him a hug and a kiss and to say I love you and to tell him to be safe. He’s been working on shift for seven months and hasn’t seen a fire yet, but I always want him to stay safe out there. The problem is I can never fall asleep after he leaves. I used to, but this far along in pregnancy, as soon as I wake up I become harshly aware of all the pain in my hips and just lie there snuggling the dog until 6 when I get up and get ready.

8:15 a.m. — Nothing I had at home for breakfast sounded good, so I waddle over to the cafeteria for breakfast. I opt for a scoop of eggs, a sausage patty, and a Cherry Coke Zero. People have lots of opinions on diet soda to begin with, and it gets super extra if you’re pregnant. Step off world, pregnancy is hard enough as it is. ($2.75 expensed)

11 a.m. — Lunchtime. I waddle over to the cafeteria. Taco Tuesday, FTW! I get mine in a bowl with rice, chicken, pico, pickled red onions, and sour cream. Delicious. ($7.52 expensed)

2 p.m. — My baby shower is coming up, and I would ideally like to wear a new dress. I browse the internet’s pathetic selection of maternity clothes and find a dress that miiight work. $14.12

5:45 p.m. — Get home and let the dogs out. We have two rescue dogs, and they are our everything. They used to spend every day in their crates, but since my husband’s schedule has him home quite a bit, they only spend a max of two days a week in their crates. They are both crate-trained and have no issues in them — they are loved, spoiled, and very content with their lives.

8 p.m. — I let the dogs out, clean up from my dinner (meatballs and marinara), and within five minutes they’re both at the door like MOM IT’S BEDTIME LET’S GOOOO. We all head upstairs. I turn on the TV in our room, do some general cleaning, and then crawl in bed by 8:45. I call my husband to tell him goodnight, and we are all one big snuggle puddle all night long.

Daily Total: $14.12

6:30 a.m. — I get up, get ready, and let the dogs out. Then I heat up the last of the low-carb pumpkin muffins I made last week for breakfast. I let the dogs in and let them roam instead of putting them in their crates, since my husband will be home by 8 a.m. This is mostly because it’s still so early for them that they will just go upstairs and get back in bed. They can’t be trusted alone for more than about 45 minutes, though.

11 a.m. — My morning flies by. Out CEO is coming in a few days, and this morning my boss asked me to create some slides for a presentation for him. It’s kind of wild to know that you’re creating something that will be shown to the CEO. It is also a great confidence booster that he trusts me to create this content. I finish by lunchtime and then waddle over to the cafeteria. Options look bleh, so I just do salad bar. Spring mix, mushrooms, hard-boiled egg, and ranch. It’s fine. ($4.18 expensed)

5 p.m. — I try to not take the toll road very often because I discovered the hard way how much the bill can add up. But I miss my husband and want to get home ASAP, so here I come toll road and 80 mph speed limit. $2.07

5:25 p.m. — I get home in 25 minutes, and my husband immediately asks if I took the toll because I’m so early. He then asks what’s for dinner, because he’s been hungry for the last hour but didn’t want to ruin dinner by snacking. Dinner is chicken thighs stuffed with cheese and bacon, plus Brussels sprouts for me and broccoli cheddar pasta for him. It’s easy, and he helps make it all, so I don’t have to stand for 30 minutes. I normally do 95% of the cooking, because when we met, his philosophy about food was that he only cooked things that took less time to cook than to eat. He’s a big fan of Chef Mic(rowave).

9 p.m. — BEDTIME! Yes, even when neither of us has to get up before 6:30, we go to bed at 9 p.m. I don’t function well on less than eight hours of sleep. Having a newborn is gonna be awesome.

Daily Total: $2.07

7:30 a.m. — Sausage links and a Cherry Coke Zero on the drive to work this morning. There’s a ton of fog, and it takes longer than normal to get to work. Feeling grateful no one actually cares/notices if I’m 10 minutes late.

9:30 a.m. — Breakfast did not cut it this morning, and I’m desperate for a snack. I grab a mini Kind bar.

11 a.m. — Y’all know what time it is. Waddle over. Beef and broccoli it is. I want another Coke Zero, but I opt for water. I normally drink four bottles (20 ounces) of water a day at work plus random amounts at home, but I’ve found this hasn’t been enough and need to start drinking more. Have I mentioned I’m pregnant, and that it’s a pure joy? Ugh. ($6.86 expensed)

2 p.m. — The baby has decided to stretch in a way that genuinely feels like her tiny hand might pop out down there. This is wildly uncomfortable as you might imagine, so I get up and waddle around the office hoping she changes positions. It works, kind of. She moves but only to a mildly less uncomfortable position. I try to stretch a little, and my boss notices. He asks how I’m doing and asks if there’s anything I need to help make working less of a pain. He’s a nice guy.

5 p.m. — Headed home. I don’t have to cook tonight because we are having steak, the one thing I trust my husband to cook completely with no supervision. I get home, love on dogs, love on husband, and plop my ass on the couch. He lets me know when they’re almost done so I can get up and prep my salad. I have a steak Caesar, and it hits the spot. It’s also low enough in carbs and sugar and all that so I can have a spoonful of peanut butter for "dessert." In case you were wondering, one of my Christmas gifts was literally a full cheesecake that is waiting patiently in my freezer for my return from giving birth.

9 p.m. — Bedtime routine. Husband works tomorrow, and I feel like I’ve barely seen him. I get pouty and hormonal and proceed to cry in bed for a bit. It’s unproductive since there’s literally nothing we can do about it, but he snuggles me until I fall asleep.

Daily Total: $0

7:30 a.m. — TGIF! Drive to work, settle in, check email, and do general admin work things.

11 a.m. — Waddle waddle. Pork loin, salad, green beans for lunch. ($7.35 expensed)

3:30 p.m. — My husband is off all weekend, which is GREAT and only happens like once a month, so I order groceries online for curbside pickup tomorrow because I don’t want to spend an hour shopping. I’d rather spend the time doing something together. I order chicken thighs, breakfast sausage, eggs, milk, cheese, produce, soda, chips, etc. It adds up to almost $90 somehow, but our soft grocery budget is $125/week, so whatever. I fight my impulse to add stuff I want but don’t need since I’m under budget. I remind myself that as soon as I can drink again, these savings will come in handy. $87.35

5 p.m. — My best friend is coming over for dinner and works closer to my house than I do, so I take the toll road home so I can beat her there. We eat pesto chicken and stuffed mushrooms, chat about nothing, and lounge around. She’s that awesome friend who is happy to come over and do nothing with me. She’s also that friend who understands that taking off your pants definitely means you aren’t leaving the house again. My husband texts that he’s jealous he’s missing out because even though he’s generally not very social, he really likes my best friend because she’s entertaining AF and always has stories to tell. $2.07

8:45 p.m. — I guess I yawned one too many times, and my friend insists on going home so I can go to bed. I keep saying I’m not tired, but I’m not fooling anyone. Say goodbye, let dogs out, and crawl in bed.

Daily Total: $89.42

7:58 a.m. — Our girl dog can hear my husband’s car when it enters the neighborhood, and she immediately jumps up in excitement. DAD’S HOME! He comes in, comes upstairs, and crawls in bed with me. We proceed to sleep for another hour or so.

9:30 a.m. — We finally get out of bed and decide since it’s nice out we’ll take the dogs for a walk instead of just letting them run in the backyard. We don’t walk them much because our yard is very large, and they get plenty of exercise. Also, one of them has severe anxiety and walks can be super fun until they are super not. We take the small loop around the neighborhood. It’s about a half mile and about all I can handle. Pups don’t encounter any other pups or people, so anxiety stays at bay.

1 p.m. — Neither of us feel like cooking, so when I suggest Chipotle my husband is super down. We get in the car and drive over there. My husband inhales his burrito in three minutes. $19.45

2:30 p.m. — I drag my husband to Target after we eat because we need new bedding. Well, we don’t actually NEED it, but I hate what we have and want all-white bedding because I can bleach it if the dogs make a mess and my husband agrees. Of course, one cannot simply go to Target and get only what one came for, so we leave with new sheets, new slippers, a bath mat, a dog toy, and a super cute onesie for baby girl. $185.22

5 p.m. — After a few hours doing absolutely nothing, I decide to start dinner. Lemon chicken in the Instant Pot. My mom got me an Instant Pot for Christmas. I didn’t ask for it, but she thought it would come in handy when the baby comes, and she was right. This thing is awesome, and I love it. Thanks, Mom! You da best.

9 p.m. — We take bedtime super seriously in my house. And by we, I mean me and the dogs. 9 p.m. rolls around and to bed we go. My husband is playing computer games and says he will join us after one more. I throw a fit because apparently that’s who I am now. I cry and cry about how I go to bed alone when he works and I don’t want to do it if I don’t have to. I surprise myself with valid points, but he apologizes and admits he didn’t even think about that. He crawls in bed for snuggles and that’s that.

Daily Total: $204.67

9:30 a.m. — And we’re up. I let the dogs out and start cleaning. When my husband has Sundays off, we have a group of friends over to play Dungeons & Dragons. I’m not that nerdy and was never interested, but after my husband asked me for literally years to give it a shot, I finally said yes. It’s fun. I don’t love it the way he does, but I enjoy it enough to spend my Sunday playing it. We literally play all day. Everyone brings their own lunch usually and then we provide dinner for the group.

8:30 p.m. — Everyone has left for the evening. It was a fun day — we recently added my sister-in-law’s husband to our group, and he’s proven to be an awesome addition. My husband and I do our bedtime routine and discuss how the game went today. Lights out by 9:30.

Daily Total: $0

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deafeningcreationperson-blog · 6 years

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Kent Washington Cheap car insurance quotes zip 98089

individual ky health insurance 2018 quotes individual ky health insurance 2018 quotes BEST ANSWER Try this site where you can compare quotes from different companies: http://freeautoinsurance.xyz/index.html?src=scoop RELATED QUESTIONS Where can I buy a total loss car from the insurance company in Tamilnadu ? I am interested in dealing total loss cars directly from the insurance company, can any one assist me to get it directly from insurance company, because there are so many agents and brokers preventing me to buy directly? ny one can help? Insurance keeps sending me money to send to provider, provider is telling me that I have a $0 balance. Do I keep it or send it back again? I had surgery this last October and due to it being performed in the hospital, my insurance is obligated to pay the full balance. Well, the insurance had sent me most of it (because the provider is out of network) but still owed the remaining balance. 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I m a very responsible girl, 17 years old no criminal record or anything but don t know what to do. If I say I came out of a store or school or something and someone must have hit me/ I don t know what happened, can I get in trouble for lying that it was a hit & run if they decide to get a claim from my insurance and can insurance tell? What should I do and what are the consequences if I lie!? Help ): ! For car insurance is the higher the insurance group the more the insurance costs? im over 25 Can someone ballpark what car insurance would cost for a 16 year old male with a jeep cheroke? 2.0 gpa i already paid for it vero beach FL Why Can t I Afford my insurance? It s way overpriced.? It s the bronze plan cheapest crap you can get!!! Good Health Insurance for individual? I d like to know if there are any affordable health insurances that can cover, at least in most part, doctor visits, low cost prescriptions and sometimes specialist visits. 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Can Employers change the status of what they pay towards employees medical insurance to be taxed as income of the employee. For example, my employer pays approx. $10,000.00 per year toward my insurance premium, where I pay approx. $1000.00. Can that 10k be considered income and be taxed as such. Car Insurance.? Does anyone know if there is a temporary car insurance you can get, so you only have to pay for it when you are driving the car. My car insurance is $150/month for plpd(partial), it is the cheapest there is, and my car is only worth around $2000. I only drive my car once a month for a 70 mile round trip. I just think its a lot to be paying $150 for a 70 mile trip. More than $2 a mile just for the insurance seems like quite a bit to me. There is no taxis or public buses where I live, and I dont want anyone else to take me. I am only interested if someone can give me information about the insurance. And a motorcycle wont work. Thanks. 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