#at least in an uncontrolled space like FUCKING TUMBLR

[anxi-writes]

Had an urge to write something angsty awhile ago. And thought that maybe tumblr would enjoy this depressing piece of work because, y’know, transformers. Anyways, here’s your food 😋

• ANGST •

It was like a blow to the gut. The glassy windows to outside serving as anything but protection from the sudden emotional pain. The dark space swirls with yellows, oranges and reds, a violent yet beautiful landscape.

A sob escapes from the back of your throat. You didn’t even realise you were crying until now. Your face is drenched in tears, it’s as if you went for dive in an endless abyss of tears. It takes all of your strength to prey yourself from the disastrous scene out in the distance.

A hand clasps your shoulder. Your emotions change like wildfire as you whip around and slap the metal hand away.

“I’m sorry.”

Sorry…? Sorry?? He’s sorry. Where was that apology, that kindness, when he drove his blood stained fist into your planet? Where was his sympathy when he continued to push his own race into near extinction? It’s too fucking late.

“You’re sorry? Well sorry doesn’t bring back my home now, does it?” You hiss with anger. The pit in your stomach boils with rage and you can’t help but release it. Anyone would think you had a death wish with how close you were standing to the ex-warlord. Then again, maybe you did have a death wise. The one thing you were looking forward to and yearned had been incinerated. Dying is the least of your concerns.

“I thought the war was over! I and many others were told that Earth would be safe, that we wouldn’t have to fear a fate such as this!” You’re practically screaming now, your anger burned into your face like the scorched planet of what you once called home. Your crewmates, the aliens you’re now stuck with, look at you with pity. A pettiness that makes you want to just hurl yourself off into the coldness of space. Their pity is the last thing you need. If anything, it just makes matters worse.

“I had a family down there you know? I had a life down there outside of this whole human liaison bullshit!” Tears trickle down your face as you continue to express your anger whilst Megatron stands there. It’s only now that you realise that you might be the last human alive. And that scares you to no end. It’s that thought alone that stops you in your tracks. It stops you from adding onto your continuing verbal assault towards a certain mech, who knows If that’s a good thing or not.

The realisation that you might be the last of your species makes your knees wobble. The sense of dread fills your tiny being to the brim as you find yourself now on your knees. You can’t do this. Fuck this. Your body shakes uncontrollably as you fail to ground yourself. This all seems so bloody dramatic, maybe you would’ve ended up doing great in that one school drama play your teacher begged you to join.

Your vision blurs as you try to pull yourself up from the floor. It’s no use. Maybe it would be better if you just sank into the floor. Sinking into the floor and becoming one with the ship didn’t seem so bad. At this point you would do anything to not be here in this present time.

#I should really be doing requests rn #instead of like- this #mtmte #megatron #transformers x reader #but it’s not really an x reader #lost light #transformers #maccadam #anxicast #anxi writes #angst

[theswirlersisterscircus]

the feeling of having two cast member of pol interact with my posts is like. a rush of serotonin but the serotonin is also poison. what the fuck.

#capy talks #i guess ive gotta delete now that ive been noticed by the ppl that make the content i like👊🏻😔 #/j BTW ITS A JOKE #theyre cool as fuck but i never expect the ppl that make the content to see my stuff abt it #so im surprised but delighted but also horrified #👊🏻😔 F for all the ppl who feel the same #krystina and carlos fucking came to tumblr and slaughtered a whole group of us huh #THEY JUST WENT THROUGH THE TAG LIKING AND COMMENTING ON STUFF HUH #im. reeling. #IGNORE THIS IM RAMBLY #ALSO PLS DONT RB I DONT WANNA BOTHER THEM #i think its really cool that theyre getting involved with the fanbase!!! #but i personally find it terrifying to interact w ppl from the media i consume!!!! #at least in an uncontrolled space like FUCKING TUMBLR #anyways this is a slew of diff emotions im going through it gang

[sleekervae]

The Neighbour [0.4]

Masterlist

The first thing Eva did when she came home was finish downloading the rest of Palaye Royale's discography. It was as though pushing the arrow on the saturation scale and suddenly her apartment with skeleton white walls and empty shadows was bursting with a new variety of rich colors. Songs that pulled back the whites in her eyes and forced open her ears to this new euphoria that was rattling through her brain and body like a pinball game.

The band's music drifted through the apartment for the rest of the night, tracks on a loop that was sure to make the tenants upstairs despise her. By the time she finished cooking dinner for herself she was lost in the cynical poetry of Warhol, entranced by the echoing of Remington's rasping screams that were never out of tune. And while she was supposed to be working on her latest article, Eva was instead watching the video for Lonely, the entire time feeling like her throat had been ripped out by a bare fist and forced to watch it beat out.

All in all, Dying in a Hot Tub took the crown for favorite. On a Saturday night, when she would usually be out with friends and drinking her problems away at the local bar, Eva was dancing through her apartment, pretending to sing along to the miserable and comprehensive words. A glass of cheap white wine sat on the counter, aiding in her inhibitions for having a rock concert in her living room. Pluto wasn't having any of it, retreating to his bed and ignoring her for most of the night.

Meanwhile, holed up in his own bedroom Remington scrolled through the Tumblr blog that Eva told him about: posts filled with poetry and proses that had him hooked as sure as he was doing drugs. Each post told a story, ranging from questions about her femininity, difficulties in growing up with an absent mother and a know-it-all dad, the first boy she had who humped and dumped her after prom. Remington wanted to read it all, falling deeper into the rabbit hole of Eva Kuznetsov.

His focus shifted from text to music when he heard a familiar sound: that sound being his own voice. The faint echo of words he was singing to crowds not months ago were suddenly swirling in the air, and when he turned to the complex, he found he had a clear view of Eva dancing away under the golden lights of her apartment. She had the screen door opened, not big enough for Pluto to squeeze through, but enough so he could hear the muffled music from his room. He knew he had pretty open access to Eva; he just didn't realize that he could see right into her space.

Which meant she could probably see into his room, too...

It was mesmerizing to watch her, spinning, jumping, her hair pirouetting around the sharp edges of her perfect jaw, all the while smiling and pretending to sing along. It was the most endearing thing Remington had seen in a long time, watching the real Eva come to life. She was uninhibited by people and impressions, dressed down in a pair of little cotton shorts and her hoodie, she was absolutely crazy and perfect.

Mischief soon got the better of Remington and he reached for his phone, eagerly selecting her number and typing. Across the way, Eva stopped dancing when the music dipped, indicating that she received a text on her phone. Brushing her winded hair out of her face, she grabbed her phone off the desk, her face going beet red when she was Remington's text:

Nice dance moves, Frances Houseman

She glanced up through the glass sliding door, mortified when she realized Remington could see her this whole time. Illuminated by the glow of the street lamp, his boyish smile seemed to shine brighter, clearly amused with this late-night entertainment. She took a deep breath and turned down the volume of the music, trying to collect herself.

How much of that did you see?

He responded not even ten seconds later:

Enough to know your hips clearly don't lie.

Shut up

And if I may ask, why are you looking through my window?

I can't help it. I'm vain enough that I get distracted by my own damn voice

Or you're just a fucking creeper

The fact that you haven't closed the curtain tells me you don't seem to mind an audience ;)

A familiar warmth spread through the pit of her stomach and Eva began to giggle uncontrollably; like a child that had been caught stealing a cookie from the jar and was so on edge she couldn't help but laugh. Stupid her for not closing the curtain.

Well I'm sorry, but the show is over now

She then went to the window to close the curtain, flipping off the smirking blonde as she shut out the rest of the world. Remington only laughed to himself, quickly texting back:

But the memories will live on in my brain

Fuck you, Leith!!

I think you should buy me a drink first, Kuznetsov

Eva just shook her head as she read his last message, downing the rest of her wine with a rose-tinted cheeks. Even with the music off, she still had Remington's soft raspy voice ringing in her head as she decided it was time to turn in. She couldn't help but start singing to herself.

"But I'm dying in a hot tub, I'm dying in a hot tub with my cat!" she lunged down and pointed both hands at Pluto. Pluto was unfazed, just staring at her with an unemotive expression. Eva's smile turned into a scowl.

"Well, fuck you too, then,"

✧✧✧

May brought the promise of vibrant flowers, bikini bodies and so many reasons for people to go out and mingle with their friends at the beaches and clubs.

Well... that was the case a year ago...

In Remington's mind, he and his friends had no need to go down to the beach and risk contracting Covid when he had a perfectly safe and clean pool and patio in his backyard. And within the last two and some weeks, he had succeeded in bringing Eva around more and more.

She got along great with everybody, which had Remington confused as to why she said she had it rough with friends. But everybody seemed to like her, and soon enough she had assimilated into their little pod. She started just with sitting outside with everyone, and when she was comfortable enough she came and hung out inside the house. Afternoons were either spent by the pool or watching TV shows and eating snacks. And the more she stayed over, the more Remington became fascinated with her.

Even Emerson and Sebastian couldn't deny that there was something about Eva that was unique; she was sparkplug of quick witticisms and lame jokes that people would laugh at just because she was so cute. She was mature way beyond her years, and yet she still had fun like a teenager trying to find themselves in high school. More than anything, the boys were curious to how close Eva and Remington were slowly becoming.

Remington liked hanging out in Eva's apartment. The environment held a different kind of vibe; like an aesthetic post you'd tag on Pinterest under a renovations gallery. But Remington was inside Eva's world, seeing the random art pieces she had hung on the walls and getting to hang with Pluto on the couch. He helped her bake when they couldn't think of anything else to do, and she always insisted he'd bring some home even when he assured her that he didn't need it. She was kind, homely, a woman with a clean soul and dirty mind who could make him laugh and didn't care when he openly belched after a soda.

Despite the pandemic, Remington was excited for his birthday. Any other time, he was at a bar or a house party with his friends, drinking until he couldn't feel his legs or ending up face-deep in a grimy toilet bowl. Even though the party wouldn't be as fun as it usually would be, Remington was looking forward to at least spend his birthday with his closest family and friends, only.

Eva wished she could have had the same optimism Remington did, but the Saturday before his birthday, she was none too pleased to find that the drain to her kitchen sink was leaking water. And apparently, it wasn't her landlord's job to come up and fix it for her.

"You want me to come take a crack at it?" Remington asked when Eva explained the situation.

Eva's phone was on speaker as she tried to navigate the utility box in the closet to turn off her water.

"Do you have experience in sink maintenance?" she asked.

"I don't," Remington admitted, "But that's what Youtube is for, right?"

Eva simpered, "As entertaining as it would be watch you destroy my sink, I respectfully decline,"

"You think too low of me, Eva," he whined.

"I just know you better than you think, Remington," she replied smartly, "I got a plumber coming by, anyway. And he can't get here 'til six for some reason so I'll be down a shower day,"

Remington's eyebrows furrowed down, "He's coming at six at night?" he asked.

"Yeah," Eva replied, seemingly clueless to the skepticism in his voice.

"What plumber makes house calls after five o'clock?" he said.

Eva stopped short, "Well, he's an independant freelancer. Makes his own hours, I guess,"

"You hired a fucking freelancer to come fix your sink?" he said incredulously.

"He's what I can afford," she replied.

"So he didn't come from an agency?"

"Nope!" Eva huffed, satisfied when she finally figured out how to turn off the water dial, "He came from Letgo,"

It was then Remington had a sinking feeling in his gut. He didn't blame Eva that she didn't want to splurge her money on a plumber, but the thought of her alone with a strange man -- who mostly carried a multitude of heavy tools -- made his hair stand on end.

"Maybe I'll come by and wait with you while he does the job," he said.

"Why?" Eva asked.

"Because you're a small girl letting a strange man into your apartment after hours," he replied.

Eva turned to her window, still having a firm view of Remington's empty, but messy bedroom, "You were a strange guy I let into my apartment," she countered.

"And now you have concrete proof that I'm not a creep, I'm just a little weirdo," he replied, "I'd just feel better being there with you, is all,"

Eva shrugged, understanding where he was coming from yet assuring herself that he was overthinking it, "I mean, if you wanna'... sure,"

"Great!" Remington grinned, "I'll be by before six,"

The early afternoon soon delved into the night, and just as he promised, Remington was at Eva's apartment ten minutes before six.

And the plumber was late.

Eva attributed it to traffic when the clock hit ten after, but then she was annoyed by twenty after. What was he possibly doing that he was twenty minutes late for a pay grab? Remington didn't say anything, though the knot in his stomach got tighter as the minutes ticked by. And when Eva assured him that he didn't need to stay, he simply shook his head and declined.

"The only way you're getting me out of this apartment is with a fucking pitchfork," he told her, smirking with pride. Eva only rolled her eyes.

It was finally quarter to seven when a battered, unlabelled black pickup truck pulled up in front of the complex. And just as Remington feared, a rather large man came falling out of the truck and started trudging his way inside. He carried no tools with him.

Both Remington and Eva had their masks on and the windows open as the plumber came inside. He was portly, older, and he wore the mask just under his nose; a particular pet peeve of Eva's. He was polite as he greeted the kids, narrowing his eyes at Remington. The whole time he was there, Remington made sure to keep Eva close to him.

"So, what seems to be the trouble?" the plumber asked, coming over to the sink but looking around slowly at the knick knacks and furniture within the apartment.

"Well, I'm not sure. It just started leaking all of the sudden," Eva shrugged.

The plumber glanced at the faucet, then took a look under the counter to the pipes. Eva began to understand why Remington was so eager to come over, now. He stayed well on his knees for longer than needed, not pulling out a flashlight to see in the dark shadows. Even Pluto seemed to sense something was off about this character, he leapt onto the top of the couch where he had a full vantage point of the typical case of plumber's crack.

The plumber finally sat back from his inspection, turning to the two kids, "I see what the problem is. I gotta' get my other tools from my truck, though," he said.

Eva and Remington glanced at each other with uncertainty, "... Okay," she drawled, "We'll, um -- we'll be here, I guess,"

"Okay," he forced himself back on his feet and exited out the door.

Not two seconds later, Remington heard the faint carry of voices in the hallways; a couple by the sounds of it. He took a look into the hall, indeed finding a pair of Eva's neighbours unlocking their door as the door to the stairwell slammed closed.

A few minutes passed, but Eva was confused when she heard the revving of an engine outside. She went to go look out her window, and sure enough, the black pickup truck was speeding away. Needless to say, she was shocked.

"What the fuck!?" she exclaimed, "He left!"

Remington came to look as well, not surprised but his fears quelled as he watched the truck disappear around the corner.

"Good," he said, "Truth be told, I'm pretty sure he wasn't here to fix the sink,"

Eva pulled her face mask off, "What, you think he wanted to rob me?" she asked.

"Or something a little more vile," Remington nodded, simultaneously pulling off his own mask, "He clearly didn't like the fact that I was here,"

Eva's face paled for a moment, now grateful she had let Remington in when he asked. How did he know, though?

"How did you know he wasn't legit?" she asked.

Remington scrunched his nose, "Well, first of all he's coming by at six -- well, seven o'clock on a weekend. Second of all, you found him on Letgo,"

Eva shrugged, "I don't trust Craigslist,"

"Because Letgo is any more reliable?" he raised his eyebrows with a petty grin, "This is the part where you say 'thank you for looking out for me, Remington',"

Eva narrowed her eyes at him, "Thanks for coming by, ya' smug shit," she glanced out the window again, "You think he's going to come back?"

"Not now that he thinks I'm here, too," Remington replied, "Like I'd leave my girlfriend alone with a strange guy at seven at night. In a fucking pandemic, too," he scoffed.

Eva looked at him quizzically, "... I'm not your girlfriend," she drawled.

"But he doesn't have to know that," he grinned back.

Eva had to admit, she was impressed. And moreover, quite grateful for Remington's persistence -- though she wouldn't tell him that.

"Aw, I have such a smart boyfriend!" she gushed sarcastically, clasping her hands together before going to fetch her Lysol spray.

Remington simply sat back down on the couch, feeling pretty damn good about himself now, "Anything for my baby!" he exclaimed happily.

"Shut up,"

#palaye royale #Palaye Royale imagine #Palaye Royale fic #remington leith #Remington Leith imagine #emerson barrett #sebastian danzig #boy bands #band imagines #band blog #band imagine blog #original story #original female character

[dstarstories]

1-20 for Steele 21-45 for Cy

Ooookay... I’m going to try this again & hope tumblr doesn’t close it out halfway through...

Steele

1. Who’s the one who’s reckless and always getting into trouble while the other gotta pull em out

You’d think it’s Steele who’s the troublemaker but nope! He’s usually the one who swoops in to save the day (was going to say he’s good at doing the pulling out but... that’s obviously not true seeing as they have all these kids lmao)

2. Who’s the one to send the other “I love my gf/bf” memes

Easton but they both prefer the funny ones over the sappy ones

3. Who’s the one who listens to a music genre the other doesn’t like and how does the other react

Steele has to listen to a lot of different things for work so it’s usually Easton expressing his distaste with groaning & complaining lol

4. Which one spoils the other more and do they ever get competitive to show the other more love

They do compete a bit but Steele is the one who really loves to do the spoiling. Easton spoils him too sometimes but Steele tries hard to be king there

5. How many years did it take to get married or was it just not for them

Years? Ha! Less than a year. Once they fell, it all happened pretty fast from there. Once you know, you know!

6. What was their wedding like

Very small & simple. Only their closest family & best friends. Easton was already pregnant with TJ & being married was all that mattered to them

7. Is their friends/family supportive

Very! They all adore each other & have grown close. Easton’s mom Jude actually has a group text with Archer & Vince because they legit talk all the damn time lol

8. How does one comfort the other when the other is in distress/having a panic attack/crying

They’re both very similar in that they are calm & reassuring. They will hold the other one & sit with them for as long as they need

9. Which one dissociates

Neither very often but both have, especially Easton. Both have trauma from their childhood which lends to this

10. Which one stares at the other’s booty like “damn” and how does the other react when catching them

Steele always stares & usually makes it known that he likes what he sees. Easton will roll his eyes & laugh. If Steele’s real lucky, he’ll get a booty shake or a wiggle out of it

11. When they live together what kinda place do they live in? What does their home look like?

They do live together. Easton moved into Steele’s house a few months into dating. As their family expanded, they did eventually buy a new house together. It’s a decent sized family home with a pool & lots of land because Easton always says that he wants goats one day! Plus it’s lots is space for the kids & the dogs

12. What do their dates look like

They don’t happen often so they tend to be on the romantic side. A nice dinner, maybe a quiet walk to drive. Then home to snuggle & well... ya know... not have to stay so quiet ;)

13. How does each act when getting drunk

Steele is a recovering addict & lives a sober life. Easton is very supportive of this & does as well for the most part. On the very very rare occasion that Easton gets drunk, he’s actually pretty fun lmao. Steele finds him adorable & funny... until he starts throwing up 😂 He’s also more adventurous & has a certain tattoo to prove it

14. Which one rolls over in the morning to wake up the other one just to give kiss them

Typically Steele since he gets up first. He tries to wake up before the kids to start some coffee then get to Oli before Easton wake up so he can let him sleep a little.

15. Have they saved each other’s lives before

Yes! Easton was in a really dark place when they first met & was trying to find himself. He was on the verge of doing something about it. Steele will openly admit that he has Easton to thank for his sobriety. His family agrees, especially Tobias who found his son after an overdose more than once. Easton showed him what happiness was & gave him a reason to live

16. Does one have an interest the other think is weird but wants to listen to it regardless

Not really. Easton did find it a little weird & funny when he found out that Steele was into building robots since he usually hides his need side well

17. Which one uses cropped hentai as reaction images

Neither really but I could see Easton doing it to be funny

18. Does one of them kinkshame the other

Never! They’re into the same things & love enjoying them together ;)

19. Is one of them self conscious about their body? If so how does the other comfort them

Easton. Steele makes sure to tell him that he’s beautiful & show how attracted to him he is. Steele will never not see Easton as the most gorgeous man on the planet

20. Say they were cuddling on the bed while listening to record player playing the background. Which song is playing?

Dizzy on the Comedown

Cyrus

21. What is their song? Like the song that gives them overwhelming feelings?

Chasing Cars

22. What song do they listen to while going on a joyride

Ain’t No Rest for the Wicked

23. What kinda joyrides do they go on? Relaxing ones or wild ones?

Depends on what’s going on really. Usually relaxing because Mateo will be stressed from work & Cy’s moods aren’t good.

24. Where would they vacation for a honeymoon

They’re beach goers & would want to go somewhere super sexy & romantic. They haven’t started planning their wedding & honeymoon yet but I’m thinking Hawaii, Tahiti or Santorini

25. Do people ever get annoyed of their pda

Yeah a little lol. They have no shame & Cy is super clingy

26. Would they live in the city or the country

Between those two options, the city. But they’d rather live on a beach

27. Which ones the red which ones the blue

I... feel like there’s something to this question that I’m missing & just don’t get lmao. Uhh... Cy - red, Mateo - blue

28. Are either of them mentally ill, if so how do they help one another cope

Cy has very bad anxiety & depression. Mateo had learned how to calm him down. Typically he’s very calm & gentle with him but sometimes he’ll tell him sternly not to say negative things about himself. Because Cyrus is so submissive, that works at times when nothing else will.

29. Does one have a spot on them where they would melt when the other kisses them there

Cyrus does, on the back of his neck

30. Do they dance together

Yep!

31. Do they sing together

Yes, usually when they’re being goofy

32. Which one is better at cooking than the other and makes most the dinners

Mateo is probably better at cooking (at least in Cy’s opinion) but Cy cooks most of the meals since Mateo works all day

34. Are they a reckless couple or safe

Depends on the context lol. They’re pretty safe I think

35. What be they kinks and do they try each other’s kinks

They are both always down to try something new in the bedroom... or out of it ;) I mentioned Cy is very submissive with Mateo & that’s also very true in intimate moments. They’re into some bdsm, being bound, pain, spanking, choking, etc. Cyrus also gets some thrills out of being naughty in public.

36. What would their valentines gifts be to each other

They tend to give really practical gifts. This year Cy gave Teo a new Apple Watch & Teo gave him some a bunch of new art supplies including some charcoal pencils that Cy likes to sketch with. Mateo will sometimes plan something really sexy for them too.

37. Do they get into fights often? If so what do they fight over and how do they make up?

No, they don’t fight very often at all. It’s usually the boring, typical relationship/cohabitation kind of stuff lol. Mateo will go drive around & Cy will call Carlin. They’ll both cool down then they’ll talk it out.

38. Which ones top, bottom, verse

Typically Teo - top, Cy - bottom. That’s mostly because of their overall dom/sub dynamic but they’re both technically verse

39. What kinda sex they be having (gentle rough whatever)

Usually rough. They’ll occasionally have that sweet, slow lovemaking type sex but they enjoy it kinda rough, especially Cyrus

40. Who would fight in honor for the other if someone would insult them

Easy - Mateo. He wouldn’t even hesitate. If someone was insulting or mean to Cyrus in front of him, his good boy demeanor would be good when he snapped & did something about it

41. Which one has a favorite movie that they have the other watch with them again and again

Cyrus! He’s a huge movie buff. His favorite is Back to the Future lol

42. How would one react if the other was to die

Either one of them would absolute lose it. They’d both shut down. Cy would question if he could go on. Mateo would probably withdraw & not talk to anyone about it. They’d both only keep going because of Maverick

43. Who dies first

Don’t do this to me 😭😭😭 I have no idea. I’m going to say Cy just because I only think that Mateo would handle it a tiny bit better

44. Do they want kids

Yes! They have one now, a baby son named Maverick. They do want more one day but Cy’s scared they may not since it’s not easy for him to

45. How would they spend their last moments together

Cyrus would be sobbing uncontrollably. Mateo would be reassuring him. They’d both be holding each other tight. It would be a mess & honestly... so the fuck would I!!

Thanks for asking!! I love our boys 💖💖💖

#ohsimtastic #steelexeaston #cyxmateo #Tiberius Hawke #Easton Ford #Mateo Wilder #Cyrus Hawke #character development #sorry no read more #on mobile & apparently don’t know how anymore

[adhdstudybitch]

Practical Tips for ADHD College Students

I know a few posts like this already exist, but I wanted to add my own experiences to the mix in case it would be helpful to someone else. Some of these will look familiar, some not so much.

Disclaimers: 1) What works for me may not work for you, take everything with a grain of salt and experiment, 2) These are what I’m using for a 4-year school but I imagine it would be applicable for any college? I wish I’d known to do some of these things when I was at CC, 3) I won’t pretend that I am an ADHD success story, not yet. I’m still finding my way, learning to cope, learning to thrive. It’s a process.

NOTE: This post is kinda long; if it’s too long I recommend just reading the bolded/italicized headings and only reading the ones that pique your interest :)

Sensory Issues:

Wear comfortable clothing: Screw the mentality that you always have to look your best in college. At the end of the day, feeling hot but ridiculously uncomfortable will trigger sensory issues (especially if you’re someone who is sensitive to certain materials/styles of clothing) and it will impact concentration and can cause a lot of distress. Are you comfortable in those sweatpants, pajama bottoms, baggy shirts? Cool, wear them. 

Stim toys: Love yourself, buy (or make!) stim toys and bring them to school. Can’t speak for CC because I didn’t use stim toys when I went, but at my 4-year school everyone is too busy drowning in deadlines to notice you squishing thinking putty or using a fidget cube under the table. 

Try different stim toys: I used to get caught up on trying to make the more popular stim toys work for me when they didn’t, so I had to experiment a bit to see what worked. It’s not always as simple as cubes, spinners, squishy toys, etc. If you have issues with texture you’ll want to really experiment, especially with things like putty, squishibles, etc. to see what is comfortable and what isn’t. But there’s a big ol’ market out there!

Headphones/Earplugs: The single most helpful sensory detail for me was always bringing my headphones to campus. I get easily overstimulated in uncontrolled situations with lots of different sounds. I make sure my volume is enough to block the noise out, but the songs I choose in these instances are usually familiar, so they don’t provide too much new stimulation when I can’t handle it. I also keep earplugs in my backpack for exams.

Studying/School Related:

If possible, leave your house: This has been one of the hardest changes I’ve had to make because I’m an introvert and genuinely prefer being home. But I’m starting to learn that my ass will not do work 9/10 times when I’m home. Too much to do, too many other things to get done, lots of fun distractions, and cats! So many cats! Unfortunately cats won’t take my exams. I’ve found that the library is okay, but for me small cafes worked much better. Armed with my headphones, some coffee, and an atmosphere that caters to silently getting work done, I’m able to focus longer, and to focus on what I really need to.

Note-taker: Admittedly I’m talking out of my ass on this one, because I haven’t yet done this. But that’s exactly why I want to stress getting a note-taker. My college life would be infinitely better if I’d done this when the semester started; instead, my notes have gaps where I couldn’t concentrate, or couldn’t process what was being discussed, etc. 

Other accommodations: Accommodations for ADHD differ depending on the college, but some of the common ones are: note-takers, silent exam spaces, assignment extensions, and use of tech such as recorders, speech-to-text software... If you’re like I was and are worried that you’re asking too much asking for accommodations, remember two important things: 1) Accommodations exist to level the playing field, not to give us an edge, and 2) YOU PAY FOR THIS SERVICES. That huge, overwhelming tuition bill with all those “extra fees”? You’re paying for these services already, might as well take advantage of them!

Talk to your professors: This part is truly terrifying for me, but I’ve started opening up this semester to my professors and it has made a difference. The professor for my hardest class actually has a son with adhd so she understood and was even able to provide me with some resources that would help. At the very least, it made my professors aware of my struggles and aware that I wasn’t just being lazy, which calmed my RSD a bit.

Organization: Staying organized is important for any college student, but especially for those with adhd. We lose things a lot, and if things aren’t in obvious, constant places it becomes so much easier to lose or forget where we put things. That being said, your ‘organized’ will probably not be other peoples ‘organized’. For example, I use my Ipsy bags for organization. One holds any writing utensils, flashcards, and post-its, another holds anything medical-related, etc. It seems a bit cluttered and disorganized to other people but it works for me. So try keeping things in the same spot if possible, but remember that finding what organizational structures work for you might take time and effort. If your school has success coaching, I highly recommend it for this purpose! Which brings me to the next point.

Success Coaching: Most colleges offer some kind of program like this, though names may differ. Success Coaching is designed for students of any academic level in order to help them get and stay on track. My college offers study skills, schedule planning, test prep, time management, help navigating campus resources, and a whole host of others. And the people doing the coaching are usually grad students who’ve been through the process. They’re typically trained in working with students with adhd, because that tends to be a significant portion of their students. They’re also just really nice to talk to. Almost like a therapist, but not quite.

Really forgetful? The best thing you can do is change your environment, not try to change yourself. You probably won’t be able to stop your brain from forgetting your notebook at home, but you can get a five subject and keep it in your backpack at all times. Same with folders. Keep losing pens/pencils? Just get a fuckton and shove them in a pouch in your backpack in the beginning of the semester. I’m not kidding when I say I have at least 20 pens and pencils in mine, not including the glitter pens and highlighters. 

Planners: Many people have said that it will take time to find just the right planner for you, and they’re correct. The planner I use right now is 8x11 with wide boxes. Some prefer smaller planners, others will use planner apps or just the calendar in their phone. You’ll have to mess around a bit to see what works for you, but you do have options!

Printables: Oh man I love printables so much, but a lot of the time I find that they’re more trouble maintaining than my adhd can handle. You can find a ton on tumblr, free to download and print, and some very beautiful packs for sale on etsy. Right now I use a monthly budget printable and one for studying terms/definitions. Sometimes the adhd mind needs something pretty and different to cling to, so I try to switch things up every so often.

Color-coding: This absolutely will not work for everyone (I’ve seen people say color-coding notes gets the hung up on the coding and not the notes, and I can definitely see that happening). For me, I use color-coding in my planner. Each class gets its own color. This keeps me from seeing a page covered in the same color of ink or pencil and mentally blocking it out. Gelly roll has the most amazing glitter pens!

Test prep: Will vary depending on the person and how they learn best, but for me I’ve found that no one method will work on its own. I have class notes, typed notes, hand-written flashcards, flashcards on quizlet. I won’t pretend that it’s easy; it’s fuck-all time consuming and sometimes I don’t have energy for it, but depending on the class I usually need a combination of at least two different methods to work. This is definitely something success coaching can work with you to figure out!

General Life Advice (that will impact college):

Get on a sleep schedule: I don’t even care what your particular schedule is (because it’ll vary person to person) but just get on one. Much easier said than done, because our brains never want to shut up at night, but lack of a consistent sleep schedule will mess with your concentration, focus, hypersensitivity, etc. 

I’ll just do this later...: is the adhd monster talking. What even is later? Does it exist? Sometimes I have to tell myself “nope, we’re doing this right now!” Doesn’t always work, but I try my hardest to do things in the moment if executive dysfunction isn’t at my door.

Develop a support system: This can be difficult because sometimes making and maintaining friendships with adhd can be hard, and sometimes family members aren’t very receptive or supportive. But a strong support system can make all the difference in the world! If your current friends don’t understand the extent of what you’re dealing with, send some resources their way and you might be surprised how fast they get in your corner. But sometimes people without adhd just don’t get it. If your college has a meet-up for students with adhd like mine does, this is a great place to meet like-minded students who understand what you’re going through and can provide support and advice! 

I’m going to stop this here because it’s already too long, but I hope this is helpful to someone and I’d love it if you could add your own tips as well! 

#adhd #actually adhd #studying with adhd #adhd tips

[sushigirlali]

Admiration - Part III (Reylo Fanfic)

Part I | Part II | Part III

Summary: Padawan Ben Solo struggles to repel Snoke’s odious influence while coming to terms with his feelings for fellow student Rey of Jakku.

Parings: Rey + Ben Solo

Continuity: Jedi Academy AU; Rey is 19, Ben is 23.

Rating: E

Master list –> AO3 | ff.net | Tumblr

——————

Admiration - Part III

By: sushigirlali

——————

Could you move in slow motion? Everything goes by so fast Just slow down a little Save the best part for last

——————

Ben slowly stirred, shifting as a repetitive pressure in his side started to annoy him. "Poke me once more and see what happens," he grumbled into his pillow.

"Okay, tough guy," a lightly accented voice murmured before jabbing him again.

"Scavenger," he said affectionately, blindly reaching for Rey's lithe form.

She allowed him to pull her next to him, laughing as he pinched her pert bottom. "I borrow parts from the shop one time and—"

"Borrowed?" he interrupted, turning over to face her.

"Fine," she sighed in mock exasperation, "stole, but that doesn't change the fact that I made some much-needed improvements to Master Luke's ship."

Ben snorted, trailing a hand up her body to push a few errant strands of hair behind her ear, "I still remember the look on Luke's face when we found you knee deep in engine parts."

"He was so mad," Rey grinned, taking his hand and bringing it to her lips, "but you took the blame, like always. My hero."

Ben's heart felt full to bursting. "Do you honestly see me that way? As a hero?"

She leaned closer, rubbing her nose against his. "Yes."

All his doubts seemed silly now, when only a couple hours before he'd been sure about them. But Rey didn't see him as a monster or a descendant of the mighty Skywalker bloodline, she just saw him. "I love you," he said softly, cuddling her closer.

"I know," she replied smugly.

"Hey, I'm being serious here," Ben pouted, pinching her butt again.

"None of that now," she laughed, kissing away his frown.

"No?"

"Well," she leered, "maybe some of that. We definitely have better things to do than argue."

"We do?"

"Oh, yeah," she promised, playfully pushing him onto his back again. "Nap time is over, lover."

Ben choked as she kneeled between his hard thighs. "Wh—what are you doing?"

"What do you think?" she smirked, looking him over with hooded eyes. "You really are proportionate to your size, Solo," she said appreciatively.

"Uh…" Ben's brain stalled as she grasped his manhood.

"Loth-cat got your tongue?" she inquired, squeezing him experimentally. "Like this? I didn't get to touch you much before."

"M—move your hands up and down, like—yeah! Like that," he shuddered under her shy caresses.

"Faster?"

"Uh—no," he murmured, closing his eyes against the pleasure; the visual of Rey's small fingers gripping his cock was almost too much.

"Harder?"

"No, thank you." Was she trying to kill him?

"No, thank you? Well, at least you're polite."

Ben's eyes snapped open at her clipped tone. "Rey, what is it? Are you okay?"

"No, I'm fine, just… am I doing it wrong?" she frowned, maintaining the same slow rhythm. "What can I do to make it better?"

"Oh," he said, realizing the issue. "Rey, if you make it any better, I'm going to make a mess," he admitted frankly.

She sucked in a breath, then smiled, "I'd like that, actually. I'd love to make a mess of you."

Ben blushed under her hungry gaze. "You're amazing," he sighed, touching her hair again. But this time, he wrapped his hand around the back of her head and tugged. "If that's how you feel, then would you…?"

"Yes," she said eagerly, already lowering her mouth to kiss his flushed tip. "Mmm, salty."

"Sorry, it's the—"

"Heat?" She paused to lick him again. "I already told you, I like the way you taste." And then she was engulfing him between her pink lips, bobbing her head in time with his harsh breathing. Her movements were a little clumsy at first, but she quickly got the hang of it.

"Rey!" he cried, gripping her hair for purchase. "Wait! I'm—oh, Force!" Ben's back bowed and his dick slid to the back of her throat. "Rey! Fuck! Are you—ah!" His concern dying on his tongue, Ben barely held on as Rey seemed to lose herself in tasting a man for the first time. He could feel her in his mind, probing his fantasies, his desires...

"You already know what I want," he said without conscious thought. "You're what I want. You're perfect, perfect for me." Rey hummed around him in agreement, and the minute vibrations nearly tripped him over the edge. "Wait! Stop!"

Pulling back with a disgruntled glare, Rey wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. "What? We were just getting to the messy part!"

"I want to come inside you."

"Oh!"

"Only if you want me to," he said in a rush.

Rey crawled back up his frame and hovered over his erection. "I want you to," she said, pointedly pressing her dripping pussy against him.

Ben gulped, palming her hips. "You take control, I don't want to hurt you."

"You could never hurt me," she said confidently. "I've been inside your head, remember?"

"I'll never block you out again," he vowed, clenching as she separated her nether lips with two fingers. "I love you, Rey."

"I—ah—love you too!" she gasped, slowly sinking onto his thickness. "Oh, my—Ben!"

"Rey, I—does this feel as good for you as it does for me?" he grunted, trying not to squirm as she enveloped him inch by inch. "Tell me what you need."

She nodded, bracing her hands on his wide chest. "Just—just be still for a minute. It feels good, but you're—a lot." Her thighs tightened on either side of his hips as she determinedly sank lower.

"Take your time, sweetheart," he encouraged. "There's no need to rush."

"I know, but I want—ooh!" she broke off on a moan as the fine hairs of their sex met. "I—I just can't believe this is finally happening! It's—ah! Ben!"

Fully seated within her at last, Ben struggled to fill his lungs with air. The oppressive heat and humidity outside had nothing on Rey's warmth and he felt like he was burning up. Thick fingers nipping into her waist, he made a strangled sound when she unexpectedly flexed her inner muscles. They were a tight fit, but Rey didn't seem to be in any pain. Just the opposite, in fact.

"Are you alright?" she queried after a moment, pushing sweaty strands of hair away from his face.

He cupped her flushed cheeks in answer, pulling her within range of his lips. Instantly feeling more grounded, Ben caught his breath by sharing hers. After what seemed like an eternity, she gently raised her hips, sliding almost all the way off him before forging the connection again, finding a languid pace that had them both on edge. Yet, their lovemaking remained soft and slow, existing in the space of one breath to the next. Of one heartbeat, one soul…

It was then that a word surfaced in his mind, something he had read once is an obscure tome: dyad. The exact definition eluded him, but Ben felt it beating like a tattoo in his mind. Leading him somewhere, drawing him into a separate world… but not alone. No, Rey was there too. Reaching for him… for the balance between them, light and dark. And the moment their hands touched...

Rey suddenly began to shake in his arms, her climax taking them both by surprise. "Ben, I'm—it wasn't like this last time! It's never been like this!" she panted, biting his shoulder, his chest, anywhere she could reach. "I don't know what to do!"

"It's okay, you're safe," he murmured, smoothing his hands up and down her back. "We're both safe forever," he comforted. What's more, he knew it was the truth; nothing could separate them now. They were made for each other.

"Then be with me!" she whined, still teetering on the precipice. "Be with me, Ben! Please!"

"I am." It was freeing to be in love, to be loved in return. He had feared giving into Rey's desires for so long, but now he knew that there was no difference between what she wanted and what he wanted. They were fated, just like Rey had said; soulmates bound through the Force...

Ben groaned harshly as he allowed himself to let go, to come apart in her arms, spilling his seed in an uncontrollable flood of passion. The pleasure was so intense, so sharp, it was almost painful, but then he realized why: Ben could feel Rey's ecstasy as well. "Force, Rey! Do you feel that?"

"Yes!" she screamed. "I feel it too!"

Supporting her weight as her strength gave out and she collapsed across his damp chest, Ben pumped into her a few more times to extend their shared delight. But, inevitability, exhaustion claimed him as well.

——————

You're an unfenced fire! (for last) Over walls we trampled! (for last) It's you I admire! (for last)

——————

Ben roused first this time, shivering despite the fact that Rey was still blanketing him. Though it was barely dusk, the weather had taken a turn. His once steamy bedroom was now cool, the wind wafting in through his open window chilly. "That's weird," he muttered, carefully rolling Rey onto her back as he moved to shut the window.

"Hey, come back," she said groggily, wrapping her arms around his middle from behind.

"I'm here," he chuckled, throwing the latch for good measure, "just hold on for a second."

"Don't wanna," she complained, nuzzling her face against his back.

"You are so greedy," he joked, letting her drag him back to the bed. "We'll have to work on that in class next—oh, shit." Ben froze as he felt his uncle's Force signature approach the front door.

"Are you decent?" Luke called, knocking merrily. "And there's no need to sneak out, young lady, I know you're in there," he added good-naturedly.

"Oh, no!" Rey's hazel eyes were huge in her elfin face as she tracked past Ben to the door. "Ben, what should we do?"

"Get dressed," he said numbly, hastily pulling black trousers and a matching long sleeve shirt from his dresser. He threw the latter at her and tugged on the pants, scrambling to look presentable before their master grew impatient and stormed inside. Quickly looking her over, Ben was pleased to see that his shirt fell to her knees.

"What else?" she asked anxiously.

"Hair!" he responded, grabbing his brush and motioning for her to turn around. Rey complied and he quickly put her to rights, picking up some of her pins and ties off the floor and securing her locks in an Alderaanian plait.

"All done?" Luke said with another knock.

Glaring at the door, Ben ran the brush through his own hair once, then smoothed out his rumpled bed while Rey stowed their discarded clothing in his hamper. "Almost!"

"Are you sure? I can always come back later."

"Just hold on!" they yelled together, giving the room a once over before looking at each other again.

"It's going to be okay," Rey told him, reaching for his hand.

Ben slid his fingers between hers and gave them a squeeze. "I know."

"Right then," Luke said, strolling into the hut as soon as Ben waved a hand to unlock the door. "Now that the two of you have finally figured things out, I must ask that you please cease and desist with manipulating the weather. It's not fair to the other students and inhabitants of this planet."

Whatever they had expected Master Luke to say, it wasn't that.

"What?" Rey gaped.

"Really, younglings, you must have noticed that our moderately temperate planet has suddenly experienced a change in climate today. Several changes, actually." Luke looked thoughtful. "It does seem to be evening out now, though. Likely due to the strength of your dyadic connection."

"So, it was because of us," Ben said in awe, recalling everything that had happened between them today. "Because Rey and I are a dyad in the Force."

The old Jedi texts in Luke's study mentioned Force-users powerful enough to affect the weather of whole planets, but Ben had never considered it could happen in real life. If the legends were to be believed, two Jedi Masters working in perfect harmony could do just about anything. And if those Jedi were also a dyad...

"You knew?" Rey tilted her head in interest.

"I suspected," Ben replied. "It started getting unseasonably hot when we were in the training center and then uh… you know… when we, um…" He trailed off in a mumble, recognizing that his uncle was still very much in the room.

"Ohhh…" she nodded in understanding. "But then why is it so cold now?"

"To balance out the heat?" Ben guessed.

"Precisely," Luke said, sounding amused. "So, if you're going to be together, please don't wait until the balance of the planet is at stake to, you know, be together."

"Are you giving us permission to have sex?" Ben said dumbly.

"I very much doubt I could stop you, so it seems like the prudent thing to do."

"You mean you're not throwing us out?" Rey said hopefully.

"Of course not," Luke scoffed.

Ben's mouth fell open in shock. "And we can still be Jedi?"

"Rey will obviously remain my Padawan when you graduate to Jedi Master, but yes."

"Really?"

His uncle rolled his eyes. "I can see that this conversation is going to take longer than I anticipated."

"But love is forbidden for a Jedi!" Ben exclaimed.

"For the Jedi of old, perhaps, but we are not them."

"No, we're not," Rey agreed, leaning against Ben's side.

"Uncle," Ben said, voice cracking with emotion as he put his arm around Rey for support, "thank you."

Luke beamed at them both, "You're very welcome, nephew. Now, I have some other news I wish to share with you."

"What is it?"

"Since the truth of our lineage has been revealed, your mother has suffered a blow in the Senate. She intends to come stay here for a while with your father."

"They're coming here?" Ben was astonished.

"They want to see you. To explain."

"They do?"

Luke's expression softened. "Of course they do. I'm only sorry they haven't been able to come sooner. You must forgive an old man's foolishness. I've been clinging to what the Jedi were, not what they ought to be. But we're going to change that, from this day forward. Okay?"

"Okay!" they said enthusiastically.

Still, Ben had a few reservations. "Uncle, can we talk later? Snoke's influence seems to have weakened, but—"

Luke waved away his lingering fear. "We can, certainly, but you have nothing to worry about. You will not fall to the dark side, Ben. Not now, not ever." He smiled as he backed up to leave. "Snoke doesn't know it yet, but he's already lost."

Ben knew it too, but nevertheless, it was a relief to hear the words from his uncle, his hero. "Thank you," he said again.

"No problem," Luke winked as he opened the door. "See you around, kids!"

——————

My living example... It's you I admire! My living example

——————

Rey and Ben collapsed onto his bed, laughing uproariously.

"I can't believe it!" she said happily.

"Me either!" he sighed. "All that worry for nothing."

"Not for nothing," she protested, curling into his side. "You needed to work through your fear."

"Thank you for sticking by me while I did." Ben closed his arms around her, kissing her soundly. "I'm glad you didn't give up on me."

"I'm glad you gave me a chance to get through that thick skull of yours," she teased.

"Yeah, well, it's really hard to say no to you when you want something."

"Which just proves that I have excellent taste in partners!"

"Partners?" Ben stared into her bright eyes.

"Life partners," Rey said seriously. "You're stuck with me, Ben Solo. Forever."

"Forever?" Meaning he would have someone in his life who loved him as much as he loved them? Someone who would never leave him alone again? Yeah, he could handle forever. "Deal."

-FIN-

——————

A/N: Thanks for reading my work! This was actually pretty therapeutic for me since I haven't been able to write much since TRoS. I truly believe that Ben should have reconciled with Leia and Luke and gone on to live and atone for his mistakes. I'll always be crushed that he didn't. Anyway, defy every cynical narrative <3 

#reylo #reylo fanfic #reylo fic #ben solo #kylo ren #rey #reylo fanfiction #jedi academy au #reylo au #luke skywalker #admiration #song fic #my fanfiction #sushigirlali

[boogiewrites]

Choking On Sapphires 82

Characters: Alfie Solomons x Genevieve (OFC)

Title & Song: When the Levee Breaks

Summary: Alfie returns to work. He begins to deal with the aftermath of what happened and tries to gain control of an uncontrollable situation.

Warnings/Tags: Language. References to assault and violence. PTSD. Suffering/Physical Pain. Fluff. Grumpy Alfie. Business Alfie. 

Click on my icon then go to my Mobile Masterlist in my bio for my other works and chapters. (Had to do this since Tumblr killed links, sorry.) Please like, comment and reblog if you enjoyed it! It helps out us writers A LOT!

The clack and clash of work within the well ran warehouse beneath the quaint Jewish bakery was running at high proficiency with its boss stalking about the place again. His freshly cobbled shoes, which he refused to replace, much to Genevieve’s annoyance, squeak with the hard fresh leather and nails against the hard floor. Despite being polished, they were covered with dirt and dust just like the rest of him, as was necessary for working in a rum house. He enjoyed the work again, as much as one could enjoy ordering around mostly boys he thought would have trouble pissing in a pot by themselves. But it did get him out of the house. More importantly, it got him away from the abstract and currently unsolvable problems that lie there waiting for him as soon as he left the structure that running his business gave him.

He’d adapted well, in his opinion, to the problems that lie in that big ornate bed at home. He didn’t work nights if it could be helped, he was home for dinner every day and took the Shabbat off, giving him extra time to be with Genevieve. He didn’t like coming back home to problems he couldn’t solve with a shout of his orders, but that was the life they were dealing with. He’d at least been able to put up a strong front at work, perhaps a bit more stone-fisted with his men than he had been previous to Genevieve’s abduction. But he felt like he had control at his dingy warehouse with its strong smells he carried home in his clothes every day. He felt like he had a place that fit when he was working, his problems solved by either agile fingers or mind with a raise of his voice or arms to put forth the labor and intellect to solve them. He didn’t have to think about how powerless he was when it came to the throw of a dice that was Genevieve’s health and mind while he worked. And although he did make most of his money on being a betting man, he’d always prefer horses over the indifferent will of the miraculous mess that was the human body.

He told himself he did it because he wanted to take better care of himself in the face of Genevieve’s decline of health, taking breaks outside to escape the fumes and flames inside his alcove of a workspace. The reality was that Aggie and Claire had beaten him into submission on him eating a full lunch and getting some sun every day. Aggie would know by his mood and his lack of stealth when it came to snacking in the kitchen if he failed to follow her suggestions. But of course, Alfie had found another way to use this forced time to his advantage. As was his way.

“There lads, go on wif ya.” He grunts after handing coins to the scrappy youth's he’d been meeting with on his breaks. Little sets of unassuming eyes and ears around the city, needing the money and having the time and invaluable ability to seem invisible to most, he utilized them for his work. They gave him all the things they’d seen and heard that could interest him. For a few sweets and pounds the information they gave was worth its weight in gold. He watches their worn shoes become even more so on his orders as they shuffle across the dirty brick pathways away from the canal and the work buildings.

“Next appointment is soon sir.” Ollie reminds him, taking Alfie's eyes from the long distance stare they were set in thoughtfully as the kids disappeared around the corner.

“Right.” He huffs out, a hand that smelled awful and felt much the same with its grit from both stress and work rubbing across his face as he scratches his beard in thought. “Put down visitin’ the families in the diary soon, yeah? Seems a few of the children have come down wif some fuckin awful fing that’s killed one of 'em already.” He says without the emotion behind it that it would warrant from any normal person.

“Yes, sir.” Ollie notes in his mind as he follows after his employer, back down the corridors to his office. Despite Ollie being taller, he very much felt small and like Alfie was carving the way back for him as his shoulders swayed and bow legs stalked with a stance that unquestionably told anyone who looked his way, “Don’t fuck with me.”

“So what ‘ave I got before I head out?” He asks with no fondness to the statement, selves rolled up his bulky and gingery hair covered forearms. His hands, as always highly bejeweled, Genevieve’s gifts among them, slap together and rub to commence the last parts of his work day, the tattooed crowns being the least of the signals from him that he was, in fact, the boss in this space.

“We have the meetings with the little birds.”

Alfie scoffs and scoots up his worn leather chair to his large wooden desk, covered in patches of dust and paperwork with a posture perfect back for a moment. “Not so little now eh?” He muses. “In stature or count.” He states with pursed lips and high brows full of amusement for his observation.

The project of little birds had started years ago. Now men, just like the lads he’d paid earlier were now, he had groomed these young men into spies for him in various fields. He had them for the Jewish community, various pubs and shops and corners in every class of neighborhood and at least one in each of the so-called gangster's posse’s, minus one for the boy who had been with Horne. He’d murdered him where he stood in his office the day he came back to work. In hindsight, perhaps it was a bit harsh, but it certainly sent the other boys into high gear to not have the same fate as him. Alfie felt much more in charge of his emotions from what had happened now, but as always, his sort of life would keep finding ways to make him question himself.

“I have the report here, sir. One will be in shortly with his to close off the group.”

“Why’s he late wif it?”

“Not late, only delayed from the nature of his subject. He hosts at the high tea shops in the West End.”

“Ah. Right.” Alfie nods, a twitch of whiskers over chapped full lips that sat in a tight line as he read over his tiny golden framed glasses. The reports with their code words and aliases couldn’t be read any more clearly by Alfie. It all spelled trouble. The word was out about him being behind the pillaging of Horne’s buildings. Word had spread of the less powerful Birmingham Gypsy brothers helping these acts to transpire as well. But it was known Genevieve was counted among them, being the head Shelby’s godmother to his children and that.

Sabini was annoyed by their appearance in London, but planned nothing in retort. In his words, it was reported that Horne, the bloody American, had it fucking coming. This was a general consensus it seemed, no one fond of any Americans moving in on business since the blowup years ago with the American-Italians. Not even Sabini had been safe in that fight. Americans were seen as cowboys, wildcards not to be trusted and looked down upon for their boisterous nature and inclination to assume their importance. The general consensus was fuck the Americans. At least Alfie had something in common with these men. One less in their line of work meant more for them, and with prohibition still enforced, that opened up a piece of the market to make some money in Horne’s absence. Alfie jots down notes with a hard brow to look farther into taking on Horne’s business loose ends. Beyond the professional, it seemed the consensus on Alfie and his reaction to Horne was a mixed one. Some thinking it an overreaction, some, like Sabini seeing it as earned and flex of power. Whether they thought him mad or powerful, he didn’t much care, but the signs all pointed to him being feared for it and that was precisely where Alfie wanted to stand with these men.

Onto the other subject of his almost betrothed, Genevieve, the news was not as pleasant but he had expected worse. Whispers of taking over her businesses, seeing her as weak now we’re starting to appear. Inevitable, Alfie knew but it certainly didn’t help smooth the lines in his forehead as much as it deepened them. No plans so far, it was still too soon to tell and he had done a fairly decent job as far as these papers told him of keeping her state a secret.

But the young man in front of him quickly put that ease to bed.

“The talk is that she’s gone soft. That’s she’s lame and traumatized. Forgive me for saying these things sir, they are not from my mouth.”

Alfie nods, a hand waving to dismiss the apology as his chin rests in his other hand to hurry on the boy.

“Her lack of appearance has caused much chat among the ladies as she wasn’t known for canceling or not being seen before. They know the donations are still going through, but she hasn’t been teaching or going to meetings or cooking at the children’s home. The more extreme of the rumors are, and forgive me again sir, are that she’s been sent to bedlam, pregnant with another man’s child, gone completely mad and being locked in her home and that she’s on drugs now. She’ll wander 'round the estate naked and talk to imaginary people. Most think you’ll leave her soon.” He concludes with a heavy gulp, his mouth dry from the man staring him down across the desk.

How was he going to head this off? How do you kill rumors that have a grain of truth? He knew she couldn’t go out in public yet, it’d be a long time still for that. She was currently dazed at best, mumbling to herself as she wandered the house with his cane. Her body was healing, she could walk with only a limp now. But her mind, that was another subject entirely. He didn’t know what was her, what was medication and what was trauma in that soft head of hers. It was too soon for answers and he needed them. Needed to squash out this weakness that was growing among them. But how could he show she was fine when she very much was not.

“That all?” He finally gruffs out.

“Yes, sir.”

“Good lad.” He says with a nod, his w'ords tense and his jaw tight. “Well, she isn’t lame or in an asylum someplace. She’s at home healing. Doctors orders to stay home and keep calm until she’s all better. So snuff out any other stories, eh? She’s fine, I’m fine. We are together, she isn’t pregnant. Paint a peachy fuckin portrait, yeah?”

“Of course sir.” He agrees enthusiastically.

“Good work. Keep it up and there may be more pay in your future.” He promises with only a slight lie in the words.

With a bow and thanks he exists and Alfie put his stained fingertips to his scabbed forehead and sighs. “Posh fuckin cunts. No lives. Only love to titter stories like fuckin' little girls in school to each other. Fuckin' gossips. Fuckin’...’ell.” He shakes his head and takes a deep breath. “They ain’t so much worried 'bout me, but her. Which is right fuckin' daft of 'em.” He speaks with an exasperated breath and a sweeping display of his hands. “News weren’t half fuckin' bad 'til those fuckers had to go and run their fat fuckin', cock suckin' mouths.” He huffs, brow low as he slumps into his chair.

“Awful that they’re speaking of Miss Durand in such a way. After all she’s done for them and the children.” Ollie responds with a sigh.

“Fuckin' what mate?” Alfie challenges with a sharp twist of his head his way. “Ya fuckin' soft? Ya sweet on her are ya Ollie?” Alfie's voice didn’t hold enough tease for Ollie to not tense up and stutter.

“No! No sir she’s always been a giving woman to those less fortunate and people speaking ill of her with no proof is upsetting. Not surprising at all! But still unfortunate.”

“Yeah,” Alfie drops the knee jerk flare of anger he’d been brewing up. Ollie hadn't done anything wrong. He just wanted to lash out. “The problem is, some of that is just tittle-tattle, right? But what if they did have a way to know fings?” Alfies natural inclination to be suspicious and paranoid was only being fueled by the oddly specific gossip in some instances.

“As in someone at home?” Ollie replies surprised, knowing Alfie had personally interrogated every staff member after Gen was gone. He’s assaulted a few and had found none guilty. The ruling was that someone had snuck in and posed as staff and given her the drink and then slipped out. Not having someone to burn at the stake really hadn’t helped Alfie out at the time. So Ollie was highly curious as to who would be giving information as he knew most of the staff owed Gen a great deal themselves. He knew them as loyal and grateful, but as Alfie liked to remind him from time to time, what the fuck did he know?

———

While Alfie was out gathering his information, Genevieve was at home doing entirely the opposite. The morphine made her mind a mess, but as was the nature of it, she certainly didn’t know it to be so.

Her walks in the garden, one arm held by either Aggie or Claire as they steadied her, seeing her eyes so far away despite being open and focusing on things. She spoke of children often, like they were there. No one knew what she was referring to. Claire and Aggie had their suspicions as to the cause of this hallucination or delusion, which one they were not sure yet, but neither said it aloud. It hurt them too much to speak of and they knew they shouldn’t break Gen's heart by trying to tell her otherwise. Another screaming fit, something like a child would throw wasn’t what they wanted to experience again.

Gen's reality was far different. She was on leisurely strolls in a dreamy garden. Her cheeky and precocious children hiding from her amongst the flowers and hedges. She didn’t see them all the time, or even often, but she did hear them. Calls for mama and papa, little auburn haired cherubs dashing in the corners of her eyes. She didn’t even know their names or faces but something about the thought of them made things not hurt as badly and it was easy to want to stay in the drug-induced stupor where everything was golden and nothing hurt. The reality was too much still, too painful, too much. So she stayed.

The warm, dizzy halo of morphine was only broken when the pain would break through. This was when the glow in her vision would fade and she would be reminded of how she was, in fact, broken. The physical pain acted as a gateway for the mental, for she recalled how she received the injuries and the memories would start to follow. With a wince, her caregivers knew she was coming down, it was time to rest. Her soft and bruised face was set to something besides indifference as her brow would furrow and her jaw would once again tighten with the stress that her current state brought upon her.

In these moments they would see a wounded Genevieve peek through the veil. Her eyes still dilated but the life backlit them in those hours she was lucid. Once she was herself for some brief moments they would ask her about her hallucinations and dreams, as they were both not decreasing in intensity. Any look at the bags under Alfie's eyes from being woken up by her fighting and struggling, mumbling awful reminders through the night next to him would tell the story of how she really felt whether she was willing or able to herself. Awake, the memories didn’t haunt her as heavily as they did in her sleep. With her brain desperately trying to mend itself, it kept trying to heal the parts that were broken and so it brought the memories of her time held hostage forward, inaccessible to her during her waking hours. The only comfort Alfie found in it was telling himself she was just dreaming, not reliving the trauma. But deep down he knew better. He’d been there himself. At this juncture, his body was growing weary and his spirit wasn’t far behind. The process of healing yourself was one thing, watching another attempt it was a whole other beast he had no interest in taming. And yet he found himself sleeping with it in his bed every night. A reminder of his worries and stress and failure that he could find no refuge from.

————

Alfie shoved his feet into the house shoes that greeted him at the door by the hands of maids. Taking his coat, offering him tea, he still wasn’t used to the treatment and he was starting to think he never would be.

“No, no, love.” he gruffs a young maid away with a brush of his hand. “Where’s Agatha? I’d like to know how Genevieve is before I see her.” he sighs, twisting his body and hearing the pops and cracks of age and strain, both accumulating far too rapidly for his liking.

“I’m here, Alfie.” Aggie’s tired feet shuffle around the corner, always wiping her hands on her apron when she appeared. “She’s in her room. Haven’t heard a peep from her in some time now. Which is an improvement. Short time and she’ll take her medicine again. Thought you might some time with her while she was lucid before she took it again.”

“Is she lucid?” he asks with a raised brow.

“She’s been up and around and with the usual exception of the few hours of her medicine and the strange talking, she’s been doing quite well today.” she gives an optimistic nod.

Alfie nods, a large exhalation stretching the muscles of his chest at the good news. He had been fully expecting nothing good after the gossip he’d had to mull over today. Perhaps there could be a light growing at the end of this dark tunnel for them both. “Good.” he responds, thumbing his nose with no other showing of his relief, his face sat hard and preoccupied as it had been since he’d gone back to work.

He saunters his way down the great hall to Genevieve’s wing of the house. As he does so, he sees a maid dart out of the phone room, kept near the entryway into the kitchens and back halls.

“Oi!” he shouts, her posture straightening and eyes growing wide before she turns to him. “What ya fuckin’ up to in there?” he demands with no politeness, a ringed finger pointing towards the room.

“Callin’ me sista sir.” she answers with a nod, not meeting his eyes. He couldn’t tell if it was from orders or to avoid his direct glare.

“What ya callin’ on work hours for?” he gruffs out with a rise of his chin.

“She’s only home for a short while between jobs, sir.”

“Where’s she live?”

“London, sir.”

“Where’s about?” he gives her rapid questions to read her honesty.

“Clerkenwell, sir.” she keeps her head down and hands together in front of her.

“Hmph. I ‘on’t know you do I? You’re new, yeah? Did I let you in?”

“No sir, I was brought in from another home a fortnight ago when my previous employer passed away.”

“Who was that?”

“Mrs. Hilda Gold from Kentish Town, sir.”

“Mmph.” a rub of his chin, wheels turning at knowing who her former employer was, knowing she was Jewish, but also acutely aware that she was a huge gossip. “I did not know she had passed.”

“I stayed on to clear out the estate then Agatha took me on.”

“Fine fuckin’ timin’ you showed up, eh?”

She doesn’t respond, not certain how to.

“Well get the fuck on... wait, what’s ya name?”

“Dorothy.” she says mid-turn, freezing at the man’s request.

“Well, then Dottie get back to work. No callin’ until after tea, yeah?” he oders with strong squared shoulders and a curt nod.

“Yes, sir. My apologies, sir.” she sputters out fast before disappearing into the nearest corridor.

He sticks his neck out as he passes to find her already gone, chewing the inside of his lip as he continues on with his paranoia as he travels towards Gen’s room.

Genevieve sits so eerily still, tense and afraid to make a move as she stares at the door in the dimly lit room. It’d been left that way to allow her to sleep but as it had been since she’d started getting up and moving around, coming to herself a tiny bit more every day, if she was left in the dark alone she could never sleep unless the medicine forced her to.

Alfie braces himself for nothing good, even though the state of her wasn’t poorly today. With a slow opening of the door, one that unintentionally made poor Genevieve's heart nearly beat out of her chest, he finally shows himself, eyes direct to hers as he sees her sitting up in bed.

He observes her eyes fluttering and her posture slump at the sight of him. At first, he couldn’t believe his feelings were a bit hurt by it. Then she reaches out to him with a face that actually showed something besides neutrality, sleepy eyes and barely parted lips that were pleading for him to come closer.

“‘Ello, love.” he greets, moving over to the bed and taking her hands, kissing her knuckles as he sat next to her on the edge. “You’re looking much better this afternoon.” he praises, a hand to her cheek as he watches her eyes close and her lean into his touch. A lump of fondness erupts in his gut, something he admittedly hadn’t felt since he’d gone back to work and had to compartmentalize his feelings to deal with them. He suddenly felt guilty as her hand covered his, such a tender gesture as she kissed his palm.

Unknown to him, she was flooded with a euphoric relief at his appearance. With her emotions still nowhere near stable, she begins to cry.

“Oh, pet, come now. No reason for all that.” he shushes, wiping the tears away. “What’s wrong?” he asks, picking up the pen and pad next to the bed and with shaky hands, she scribbles away.

“Be quiet for a moment and listen.” it reads, Alfie’s brow furrows, starting to question the optimism of Aggie.

“What are you on about?” he replies and Gen puts her fingers to his lips. The look in her eyes tells him she’s serious. He does as instructed and waits, eyes moving about the room, not sure what he should be listening for.

He watches her raise and her head turn to the door and stare. Much like a frightened deer.

“I don’t hear nuffin’, Gen.” he pats her arm to comfort her.

She huffs out her nose and pursed her lips. “When you’re here I don’t hear them.” She writes, her eyes back again to the door.

A pang of guilt sits heavy in his stomach at her words. “Hear who love?” He asks softly.

“Footsteps.” She communicates, her eyes scanning the bed in front of her with a clear confusion behind them.

“There are people out in the hall all day.” He says with no condescension.

She shakes her head and sighs. “Not in my wing.” How could she explain the fear the sound sent through her. They weren’t just any footsteps, they were Horne’s footsteps. She knew it made no sense. She knew he was dead, but it didn’t stop it from sending her right back to that cold and pitch black room where she was kept, waiting for him to come back and fearing what would come with him.

Alfie sees the very real concern in her eyes. He has a theory as to why she’s afraid but he’s hesitant to ask. “Does anything else make them go away?” He questions, raises her chin up to face him.

She considers it a minute. She didn’t feel afraid with Alfie there for obvious reasons, but what else took it away. “Sleep?”

“Well of course love.” He gives her a soft chuckle and kisses her forehead. “But having me here helps, yeah?”

She nods slowly, a fast one still sending her into the spins.

“Then let me help.” He suggests gently, crawling into bed with her and pulling her to his chest. “This help?”

She nods again, still feeling nervous as she rests her head to his chest. She could focus on him now, hear him breathe, feel it as well.

“Does being in the dark bring them on?” He proposes, fingers stroking her hair, his face bent towards her.

She considers it a moment, slow blinking eyes he was happy to see wheels turning behind. She gives a tap to his chest to indicate yes.

“And only when you’re alone?” He reiterates.

Another gentle tap.

He decides to get to the point, as is his nature, no matter how abrasive it might be. “When you were taken from me…” he begins. He feels her tense against him. “We’re you kept alone in the dark?”

He hears a small whimper from her, her hands now in fists.

“S’all right love. It’s over now. It can’t hurt you anymore.” He coos.

She shuts her eyes, burying her face in his chest.

“And could you hear them outside the door?”

She agrees again, a little whimper of a sound as she pushed her face into him.

He braces her, feeling her breathing grow shaky and uneven, seeing it was painfully obvious she was having trouble with dealing with the memories. Still, he persisted. “Is that what you’re hearing now? When I’m not here?”

A sob moves her upper body and she whines, fingers grabbing at his shirt, smelling still of rum from work.

“There, there, love.” he whispers, putting his mouth to her hair. “Your Alfie’s got ya innit he?” he soothes, smoothing her hair and rubbing her back. “Just memories. They can’t hurt you now. It’ll get better with time, pet.” he laments, feeling her cry in his arms. The pain from the extended panic still alive and well in her chest when she thought about her time held captive. He could feel her skin run hot beneath his hands, the only sounds he’d heard from her since she’d been back were mumbled with pain. He stares at the door as she wears herself out. Holding her like a babe in his arms, face set to an unpleasant detachment. She had so much farther to go before she could venture out. The mention of what happened and she’d fall to pieces. Not to mention she couldn’t speak yet. He was starting to wonder if it was more from physical injury or a mental one at this point.

He did feel sympathetic, empathetic even to her current state, but that harsh bit of him that pulled him through his own dark times tells him she needs to do better, to move forward. He feels impatient, knowing what those on the outside were saying. Normally he would tell any of those posh tossers to piss off with their opinions but now Genevieve was the victim of their rumors and he didn’t want her to lose the place she’d gained in society because of this. He wanted to keep things as well maintained as he could for her, and that meant taking on the stress that would normally be carried by her slight shoulders. Luckily for both of them, he was a tough old bastard who could deal with a bit of posh, West End babble easy enough. But he was more worried about what Genevieve would feel, think and more importantly do when she found out what they were saying. He had so many voices to worry about now. His own in his head, the ones in Genevieve's as well, however many there were now. He was used to listening to people talk about him, and he dealt with it in his own way But now he had to worry about what they were saying about someone else, and not just his people, not only slurs and the like, but a woman he loved. He closes his eyes, pushing his cheek against her head as he knows this will end no time soon.

@jaegeeeeer @cosettewinchester @lookuptheskyisfalling-blog@brianaisasongbird @cry5t4l-w4rri0r @jess2464 @hardygal69 @thegarrisonpublichouse @a-flock-of-angry-pigeons @pootle @negansdirtygirl22 @musingsby-night @shine-dont-shadow @inkinterrupted @vale0413 @emerald-bijou @elaenom @give-jack-a-lightsaber @ultrablackwidower @tinastarkandco @arrowswithwifi @marvelgirl7 @they-are-not-just-stories   @ugly-crying-over-bucky-barnes @alitheamateur @gold-trashbag @divadinag 

#Alfie Solomons #Peaky Blinders #alfie solomons imagine #alfie solomons x oc #peaky blinders fic #alfie solomons imagines #alfie solomons x reader #alfie solomons x ofc #alfie solomons fanfic #alfie solomons fic #alfie solomons fanfiction #alfie solomons fluff #alfie solomons angst #alfie solomons fan fic #peaky blinders fanfic #peaky blinders fanfiction #peaky blinders fan fiction #tom hardy #alfie solomons au #peaky blinders au

[bakudekuficlibrary]

BakuDeku: Angst One Shots Part I

Click here for Part II & Part III!

84 Works.

Fallout by limesicle  ( T | 2,505 | 1/1 )

Katsuki does everything the hard way. Falling in love isn't an exception.

It doesn't take him long to realize he's falling, but it takes him ten years to admit it to himself. It takes another ten before he says it out loud.

For the Future by limesicle  ( T | 2,886 | 1/1 )

In which All Might doesn’t arrive in time. In which Katsuki watches his childhood friend fall by his own hand. In which he realizes too many things after he’s lost too much.

[Major Character Death | Suicidal Thoughts]

Words They Didn't Say by crushingblue  ( G | 1,804 | 1/1 )

Bakugou doesn't know how to say enough. Deku is scared to say too much.

Series Part 1 of Future Feelings

Crossroads by atosei  ( T | 1,493 | 1/1 )

“I already told you,” he said steadily, “I’m leaving for good. As of today, I’m resigning as a Pro Hero.” Bakugou laughed harshly. “You’ve got to be kidding me – you, resigning? Best joke I’ve heard in years.”

If you really knew Bakugou, you’d be able to hear the hint of fear he was trying to hide behind those cruel words. And if you really knew Midoriya, you’d be able to see in his eyes that he was dead serious. And they really did know each other that well, to that extent, to be able to pick up on the emotions that they’d tried so hard to lock away and it was then that something broke between them, something irreversible and Bakugou knew he couldn’t keep this up any longer.

Series Part 1 of Intersection

imbalance (he knocked the world from under your feet) by dovedapple  ( G | 506 | 1/1 )

/ɪmˈbal(ə)ns/ noun the lack of proportion or relation between corresponding things.

Taraché by Funky Hanji (Temari)  ( T | 4,571 | 1/1 )

- «Hey Bakugou. […] You ever been afraid of your quirk? It’s hella strong, I bet it was scary until you learned to control it…! » -

Choices by stardustacademia (cosmiclarents)  ( T | 576 | 1/1 )

The only summary I can think of for this is what's in the tags, honestly. Angsty vague bakudeku w/ a splash of plot. Just a bit.

Series Part 1 of Drabbles With Potential

opia by Ramabear (RyMagnatar), timeto-explode (NoWayApril)  ( T | 2,169 | 1/1 )

In an attempt to breach the wall put up between Bakugou and Midoriya, All Might and Aizawa try something a little unorthodox. The two teens are set down in chairs across from each other with the instruction to stay there and look into each other's eyes.

The strange vulnerability that follows spurs a confession that Bakugou isn't prepared for in the least.

Так бывает by Serpentaria  ( G | 705 | 1/1 )

Так бывает, что ты не предназначен своей родственной душе.

Fearless by ukiinas  ( G | 1,434 | 1/1 )

Izuku's fiery spirit and compassion were so dazzling that it blinded him; his strength and endurance were so captivating that it scorched him like an inextinguishable flame. They’d never come on equal terms as to even try and begin to understand one another, and perhaps Katsuki was to blame, but it was precisely due Izuku’s brilliance that he found it hard to approach him.

Series Part 1 of Fear, Pride, Denial

Tempo by ichikonohakko  ( G | 2,081 | 1/1 )

He promised Katsuki the world.

But Deku was a villain. And no villain should be trusted.

--- Or in which Deku let himself slip up in a moment of weakness.

Series Part 7 of Villain!Deku AU

reconnect: extended version by Ramabear (RyMagnatar)  ( T | 4,639 | 1/1 )

After a brief meeting at Yuuei, Izuku takes Katsuki back to his small apartment for conversation and dinner.

{ Curator’s Note: This work is tagged with “Exes”. }

Screaming never helps Screaming always helps Don't scream Do scream by inspectorwired  ( T | 551 | 1/1 )

Don't look at me that way

Tears by frostyoctopus ( Not Rated | 436 | 1/1 )

lil one shot i made of kaachan/deku.... i rly like bnha haha. i dont read the manga OOPS so idk if these characterizations are 100% accurate... kaachan ponders the real reason why he hates deku so much but he cant pin-point the specific emotion he feels towards deku...

Make Every Moment Last by osakakitty  ( E | 6,885 | 1/1 )

There are days where Izuku Midoriya wakes in a different world. It is usually a world very similar to his own, but with noticeable changes. The thing that changes the most is Katsuki Bakugo. Sometimes he's a friend, sometimes he's not, and sometimes he's something else entirely.

Canon-Divergent story where Midoriya has the uncontrollable ability to travel to parallel universes. He sleeps in one, and may wake up in another. By seeing through the eyes of many different 'Izuku Midoriya,' he learns things about himself and Bakugo.

Terrible Losses by AshREvans  ( T | 1,339 | 1/1 )

rasm835g asked: Could you write a scenario describing Bakugou or midoriya having to react to the other one dying, and how their reactions would differ from one another

From my BNHA scenario blog https://myheroscenarios.tumblr.com/ Feel free to submit requests!!!

Series Part 4 of Multifandom Tumblr Requests Part 3 of BNHA Tumblr Requests

[Major Character Death]

Your sorrow, pouring out of your skin by tandum (nea_writes)  ( T | 3,433 | 1/1 )

Izuku dies in Katsuki's arms, and he becomes intimately familiar with the long shadow of regret.

He's so full of regret he wishes he could vomit it out.

Every time he hurt Deku, every moment he rejected him, every single instance he made Deku's smile fade, haunts Katsuki.

What he should've said to Deku long ago, what he never said, what even in his dying moments he held back, he says now, to the only person who'll understand, and who will never forgive him.

Series Part 1 of Even though all I wanted to do was become strong like you

[Major Character Death]

blindness by umbrage  ( M | 1,771 | 1/1 )

There's a fine line between love and hate, but Bakugou's willful lack of nuance proves both to be equally painful.

Here Comes a Thought by myraj  ( T | 600 | 1/1 )

"Kacchan, I'm here"

Snap Out Of It by ReturnToZero  ( Not Rated | 1,068 | 1/1 )

There was a time in his childhood where he had hopes and dreams of being the best, with the full support of those all around him. Everyone knew he could be a top hero, and he was just waiting on finding a suitable sidekick early on, to ensure they both would be top notch and tightly knit.

“Mom has the ability to pull small objects to herself, I might get that as my quirk!” the quiet voice muses, the joy of imagining his soon to be quirk filling his words with hope unlike any other.

“Still not as good as my quirk though! Cmon Izuchan, you have to do better than that if you wanna be my sidekick.”

Bakudeku Week Day 2: Cotton Candy / Childhood / Sloth

Series Part 2 of BakuDeku Week 2k17

Happy Birthday Deku! by LionellLim  ( M | 3,566 | 1/1 )

15th of July was the day of our hero special day but can he celebrate it with his lover without getting interrupted with his work?

Series Part 4 of Katsudeku compilation of one shot

skin shouldn't look like that by HummusKing  ( M | 3,007 | 1/1 )

“How about I cut you a deal! You’re a prideful kid right? How about I’ll stop if you get on your knees and beg.” Tomura took his hand off Midoriya’s face, the flesh blistering red as blood began to trickle down the boy’s cheeks. Midoriya’s eyes began to flutter, the pain causing him to slowly lose consciousness but he kept his gaze locked with Bakugou’s. Something in his emerald eyes had pleaded for him, maybe to tell him to give up and to get out, or maybe it was a plea for help – Bakugou didn’t know.

[Graphic Depictions of Violence (Torture & Blood)]

I'll Wait by ZoZoTheTaco  ( T | 489 | 1/1 )

For BakuDeku week.

"I waved goodbye to you knowing that you'd come back home to me."

Katsuki falls apart waiting for Izuku to come back home. (inner-monologue style)

I was not born to drown by yabakuboi  ( T | 2,645 | 1/1 )

One more night, Izuku thinks. He’ll stay with me one more night.

another old space odyssey by sorethroat  ( T | 2,058 | 1/1 )

“Car-di-o-meg..aly,” Deku fumbles around the words. “I can’t see the moon with you.”

He stands there, Deku smiling tight like if he moves his tears will spill over, and they’re too young to laugh at the idea that the insurmountable obstacle in front of them is a heart that’s just too big.

-

Bakugou is an astronaut but he's forgotten why. Midoriya wants him to come home.

Lovesick by halcyonwhispers  ( M | 2,652 | 1/1 )

Izuku must’ve felt sorry for him more than Katsuki first thought. There’s always some stupid penalty ‘date’ that’s supposed to make Katsuki feel better because Izuku’s made of fucking rainbows and stupid sunshine.

He couldn’t even let his fuck buddy feel like he’s been used.

"Care" by The_Simpatico_Writer (AjhayLee)  ( G | 826 | 1/1 )

Your life was a movie Scene by scene You had your thoughts that he would soon be Your Teenage Dream And with your fire, you assumed he Would put it out But he couldn't

Come on and make your mind up Love ain't so hard to find ya When he was standing there Waiting for you to care

Waiting for you to care (3x) You thought he had landed All maxed out You let him fall and leave him stranded Without a doubt And you're here beggin' for a lover Well turn around because you missed it Oh you missed it Come on and make your mind up Love ain't so hard to find ya When he was standing there Waiting for you to care Waiting for you to care (3x) Look at yourself Is this really what you wanted Is this really what you wanted Look at yourself Look at what you started Waiting for you to care (3x) Come on and make your mind up Love ain't so hard to find ya When he was standing there Waiting for you to care

[Major Character Death]

Rose Knows by origami_soul  ( Not Rated | 501 | 1/1 )

Bakugou meets a younger Deku in his dream.

[Bullying]

Aquiver by stardustacademia (cosmiclarents)  ( Not Rated | 4,083 | 1/1 )

This is supposed to be their happily ever after.

Unfortunately, 'Happily Ever After' doesn't always guarantee unconditional satisfaction.

Radio Silence  ( T | 1,634 | 1/1 )

When making a dangerous plan one must consider Murphy's law. For those who are unfamiliar, the law states, "anything that can go wrong, will go wrong." But there's a hidden side to this rule that comes into play when you least expect it, "If things are ok, expect them to get bad. And if they do, expect them to get worse."

[Graphic Depictions of Violence (Blood and Gore)]

Walls by chancellorxofxtrash (PhoebeMurdivine)  ( T | 5,245 | 1/1 )

Official sources had announced, that the two students from UA’s Class 1-A, who had been missing for the past three days, had been recovered during a raid led by Heroes, with the participation of their classmates. There had been no official statement regarding the state the two students are in, but hospital sources had confirmed that they are alive, and their lives are not in danger.

[Graphic Depictions of Violence (Torture) | Psychological Torture]

syzygy by shousanki  ( T | 2,151 | 1/1 )

The thought of being apart never even crossed Izuku's mind until it became a reality, and then a nightmare.

we run in antiparallel.  ( T | 1,181 | 1/1 )

there are different ways in which a boy can be saved.

katsudeku week: day 2 - heroes/villains

Sleeping With Ghosts by lalazee  ( M | 1,003 | 1/1 )

“I guess even heroes have to do their grocery shopping.” “Villains, too,” Katsuki said tightly. “Villains?” Deku blinked, gasping softly as he went to his tip toes and looked over the aisle divider. “Where? Shit, Kacchan, you’d better get on that!”

Written for KatsuDeku Week 2017, Day 2: Heroes/Villains.

the way you are is like a dream.  ( T | 4,001 | 1/1 )

nothing makes sense in this world. especially bakugou katsuki.

bakudeku week: day 3 - fantasy (a different kind of au)

[Implied/Referenced Bullying]

I'm Sorry by Viciedy  ( Not Rated | 1,074 | 1/1 )

Suicide. Late apologies. Lack of self-expression. Depression. What more is left?

Bakugou Katsuki sulking in his locked room with a cutter in his hand.

[Major Character Death | Suicide]

“if it could be you…” by holdingoutforahero  ( E | 1,508 | 1/1 )

Loving Katsuki is something Izuku just does.

Only in My Memories. by aeyongdarling  ( G | 1,703 | 1/1 )

He always sees him talking, sees him sending a message and always hear him muttering his usual things. But it seems he was always ignored, always talked over. As if he doesn't exist in other's lives.

Mentiroso Pierrot by Stasawe  ( G | 2,663 | 1/1 )

"No tienes que soportarlo tú solo." Ser capaz de hacer sonreír a la gente era su mayor sueño. Izuku haría cualquier cosa con tal de conseguir ver a las personas felices. Por otro lado, Katsuki estuvo reprimiendo la libertad que le correspondía.

Count of Three by lalazee  ( M | 1,522 | 1/1 )

“You asshole,” Bakugou said, numb fingers fumbling as he shucked off his gloves and threw them aside. “Save two dozen people and then do this? Not on your life.”

Quirkless Vigilante Deku AU.

Series Part 1 of Vigilante/Quirkless!Deku AU

[Graphic Depictions of Violence (Blood & Mild Gore)]

Deku please don't go... by miiba_chan (marichat_girl13)  ( T | 531 | 1/1 )

Series Part 2 of Bakudeku oneshots!

[Suicide]

Bound to You by Magefeathers  ( T | 5,751 | 1/1 )

There were a few moments of nothing but the static, and Izuku feared that maybe the demon had disconnected after all. But then the voice spoke again, and this time it was flat, listless, without any of the anger and fire Izuku had come to expect from it.

“I exist to destroy you, Midoriya Izuku,” he repeated. When he continued his voice was bitter, and almost sad. “I’m bound to you. I am going to steal your breath from you, because that’s the only way for me to be free. Sooner or later, one way or another, I will destroy you.”

there are listed buildings by semiautomatichearts  ( M | 3,309 | 1/1 )

Katsuki first sees colors bloom when he is only three years old. It is timid Izuku, hiding behind the cover of his mother's leg who looks upon him with wide eyes, and Katsuki's world explodes in shades of greens and pinks and blues, and he is so startled, he begins to cry.

His life is then on defined in color, in shades his peers can't see, by the forlorn, timid stare in Izuku's eyes that always lets off more than he is willing to tell. There is a schism driven between himself and his fated other, and Katsuki strives to be better than fate, better than what is defined for him. He is more than the written pages of a book, to be cracked open and read by the gods.

He wonders if it is possible for colors to bloom for someone who will never love you back.

Healing Process by shewizzard  ( M | 10,962 | 1/1 )

When an injury leaves Deku out of commission, Bakugou steps in to help the healing process. Between all of his friends feeding him up and Bakugou pushing him Midoriya ends up putting on some pounds.

Let the Petals Fall by limesicle  ( T | 4,976 | 1/1 )

In a world where hanahaki emerged around the same time as quirks did, it's a disease that doesn't happen to many. But it does seem to run in families. Ever since Katsuki heard that his mother had it, he wondered if he'd get it, too. When the first signs occurred, he tried to fight it. But as the green flowers kept spilling from his lungs, it got harder to ignore.

In short, it's the katsudeku hanahaki AU that no one asked for.

Series Part 1 of Tiger Lilies and Crysanthemums

Our Dream by Purplemerald  ( G | 1,176 | 1/1 )

"Izuku, what do you really want? Die never accomplishing your dreams? Or live and...?" Katsuki didn't continue but the words were already said.

Live and be with me.

[Major Character Death]

11 Miles by Dragonbooks249  ( T | 3,752 | 1/1 )

Is there something you want? Something you need? How far are you willing to go to get it? Bakugou Katsuki would go anywhere to get what he wants. What he needs.

[Major Character Death]

Близко by Explodocat  ( G | 1,175 | 1/1 )

Сигареты. И вещи, озвучивать которые вовсе не обязательно.

Punishment by Purplemerald  ( G | 1,314 | 1/1 )

"You who have done evil, you are a sinner, you do not deserve happiness, you will never forget your sin."

Deku..

I want to be your friend again..

But I'll never forget that I hurt you. Even if that pure smile is given to me, I can never forgive myself.

[Major Character Death]

Pained Lotus by VoidRune  ( T | 1,732 | 1/1 )

Katsuki was still working out the toughest parts of understanding his boyfriend, of rediscovering the childhood friend he lost somewhere along the way. Most of the time, it wasn't expected, but endearing in ways he had simply never seen before.

At times, they just looped back into some old wounds.

Katsuki hated not knowing what to do, but he tries.

Series Part 1 of Lotus

Loving Him is Painful by ioooriiii15  ( Not Rated | 321 | 1/1 )

She's there whenever you're in pain.

She's there when the world turn its back to you.

Why did you let her go?

'Til Death Do Us Part by reijeux  ( T | 2,448 | 1/1 )

Izuku is the world’s greatest hero. It doesn’t take long before Katsuki notices he’s changing; it doesn’t take long for Izuku to realize what’s happening to himself, either.

[Major Character Death]

Start At Ground Zero by lalazee  ( T | 1,551 | 1/1 )

The longer Katsuki knew Deku, the more he realized how much he didn’t know.

Hospital scene, aftermath.

Series Part 2 of Vigilante/Quirkless!Deku AU

A Hero by Purplemerald  ( G | 822 | 1/1 )

Trapped under a villain attack, Izuku could only scream his name as Katsuki makes his decision.

Chewed Up by warschach  ( E | 30,693 | 1/1 )

Zombie apocalypse, more than a third of the population currently dead or in the state of undead, and Katsuki still somehow managed to get his shit stolen by two chicks and Freckle boy.

Fuck this new generation.

Scattered Anemones by gaytodoroki  ( T | 3,582 | 1/1 )

"Fuck you for making me cough up a ton of shitty flowers," is what Bakugou might say to him, if he had the courage to actually confess and wasn't stuck panicking over his stupid crush.

[Panic Attacks]

we make homes out of people and we forget that they are bones and blood and stardust and all of them can perish as well. by moonblossoms  ( G | 854 | 1/1 )

katsuki reflects on his life with and without izuku.

[Major Character Death]

silk by holdingoutforahero  ( G | 669 | 1/1 )

Katsuki is anxious, Izuku can recognize that even from the slightest signs. He is going to snap any second and this time Izuku has to let it slide instead of letting out a weary sigh and a sharp “Kacchan”. Katsuki’s hand is slightly trembling as he ties the obi of his inner underrobe. Izuku steps closer to him and pulls the narrow belt out of his hands.

“Here, let me."

For the Flowers that Bloom Inside by limesicle  ( T | 8,457 | 1/1 )

Hanahaki develops in approximately two out of a hundred people. The strength, the prognosis, and the outcome depend on the person afflicted and, of course, the person who made the disease present in the first place. Izuku has known these things for as long as he can remember–for as long as he’s seen his mother coughing petals. Two out of a hundred–and he would be one of them–like being quirkless wasn’t bad enough.

Izuku’s side of the story of the katsudeku hanahaki AU (you don’t need to read the other half first to understand it)

Series Part 2 of Tiger Lilies and Crysanthemums

A Classical Storm by oceanswrath  ( T | 1,400 | 1/1 )

In that moment only the two of them existed, a force to be reckoned with greater than the storm raging outside.

i have seen every single one of your life milestones and i’m really glad i’m one of them. by moonblossoms  ( G | 1,072 | 1/1 )

izuku reflects on the milestones he and katsuki have shared together aka i write a terrible fanfic at 3am and say the word milestones a lot.

[Major Character Death]

Odd Combinations by whatthefuckisupkyle  ( M | 1,813 | 1/1 )

Katsuki called Izuku over to his house because he was just a mess at 3AM.

[Graphic Depictions of Violence | Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-Con | Implied/Referenced Self-Harm | Implied/Referenced Abuse]

{ Curator’s Note: None of the Rape & Abuse warned about above is between Katsuki and Izuku. It is from Bakugou explaining all the things that were wrong in the relationship he was in that he had just ended. }

Green Haze by reijeux  ( T | 2,408 | 1/1 )

Denying his soulmate the first time brings a nightmarish consequence to Katsuki as he's forced to live through different lifetimes where he dreads the coming of Christmas.

[Major Character Death]

stained glass variation of truth by cheaperthantherapy  ( T | 3,717 | 1/1 )

It has been six years.

Well, it has been six years, ten months and four days.

Twenty-Four by SharkbaitSekki  ( T | 15,874 | 1/1 )

Izuku gets himself kidnapped, and Katsuki is dragged into it with him as they face villains with particularly terrifying illusion Quirks.

It ends up being a living nightmare, but Katsuki can't bring himself to regret following Izuku into it all. Because between the pain and the terror, between the lies and the illusions, between life and death, at least they can always hang onto one another. Even if everything else is fake, they know that they will always be real.

[Graphic Depictions of Violence (Torture)]

This is Grinder, not Christian Mingle... by Crandberrycrush  ( E | 7,568 | 1/1 )

The quality of the video was horrible, fuzzy green hair was all he could see for the first few seconds, before a flushed and freckled smile much too close to the camera appeared, followed closely by a gratuitous amount of laughter.

“Kaaaaachaaannnn…. What are you doooooin’?”

The screen wobbled and refocused on the face, round cheeks glowing in the red and yellow lights of some unknown bar. Cheesy pop music cracked through his speakers - trash that Katsuki would never be caught dead listening to. Suddenly the image switched from Izuku’s face to the flat wooden surface of what Katsuki could only assume was the bar and ended. Fucking Deku.

Do you Regret it? by MadamBlue  ( M | 1,331 | 1/1 )

A rescue mission goes horribly wrong

[Graphic Depictions of Violence (Blood and Gore)]

saltwater knives & saltwater lives by writedeku ( T | 1,580 | 1/1 )

Before.

(Before is a time Katsuki doesn't like to think of now. Before was before, now is now, but it does deserve reflection.)

Series Part 2 of the saltwater saga

[Bullying | Physical Abuse]

to know you by Anonymous ( T | 7,645 | 1/1 )

They were the Wonder Duo, the saviors of the innocent, and it took that reminder to get Izuku through yet another sleepless night.

defluo by managician ( T | 1,165 | 1/1 )

defluo: verb. to flow down, waste, disappear. “I probably should have thought about the consequences of selling my soul first.”

[Major Character Death]

Ожоги by Explodocat ( T | 3,356 | 1/1 )

После достижения четырнадцатилетия человек не может прикасаться ни к кому, кроме своего соулмейта, не вызывая ожоги.

I've Loved You Since Forever by BeanPasteMan ( G | 289 | 1/1 )

Katsuki and Izuku went on a mission together and Katsuki died. Izuku never got the chance to tell him how he felt before Katsuki passed away.

[Major Character Death]

Am I Ready? by Ryxmas ( G | 6,226 | 1/1 )

Even after one and a half years after his disappearance, Izuku never really stopped thinking about Katsuki. After all, Katsuki always had a habit of barging into your life, even if you never expected it.

Don't Phunk With My Heart by yamarik ( T | 7,972 | 1/1 )

Deku wakes up with a hangover in the worst possible place. Now he’s in fear for his life. Meanwhile, Kacchan just wants to return Deku’s train pass...

heaven in hiding by halcyonwhispers ( T | 8,827 | 1/1 )

After years of without contact, Izuku's suddenly thrown into playing seven minutes in heaven with Kacchan at a dumb house party he didn't even wanna go to.

He didn’t expect how things turned out.

Endless by chancellorxofxtrash (PhoebeMurdivine) ( T | 3,582 | 1/1 )

It’s been six months since the pro hero Ground Zero’s last stand, and Izuku was determined to make things right.

[Graphic Depictions of Violence | Major Character Death]

One More Time, One More Chance by limesicle ( T | 3,256 | 1/1 )

Katsuki knows he’s made mistakes–some worse than others–but none as bad as letting Izuku walk into that fight alone.

Series Part 2 of Spring BakuDeku Week 2018

let our proud fossils prove who we were by shousanki ( T | 2,622 | 1/1 )

Katsuki does not die. He does not kind-of propose to Izuku while in the throes of near-death delirium either. And they are not talking.

Series Part 2 of 青春ノンストップ ーSpring Bakudeku Week 2018ー

Lie by chancellorxofxtrash (PhoebeMurdivine) ( T | 1,883 | 1/1 )

The timer on their wrists, written with black numbers were different for everyone, constantly counting back the seconds. Everyone knew that the moment you first touch your soulmate, the timer on both of your arms will reach zero.

The timers on the arms of Izuku and Katsuki kept counting backwards.

Lost, but lost together by Tsulivy ( T | 1,660 | 1/1 )

"Kacchan... It's too late... It's already spreading, I can feel that I'm losing my last grip on whatever's left of my sanity," Deku said weakly to Katsuki, who was holding him in his arms, silently shaking trying to comfort the other. "you need to leave... Before I go after you, I don't want you to be lost, too."

"Shut the hell up," Katsuki said out of breath because of an upcoming panic attack. "I'm thinking, let me fucking think for one goddamn second, we'll figure it out."

"Kacchan..."

[Major Character Death]

Meeting Again by Dana91 ( G | 1,141 | 1/1 )

Bakugo never thought he would see him again. Not there. Not at the Hero License Exam. But most of all, what the hell was quirkless Deku doing with Shiketsu uniform?

Series Part 1 of Shiketsu AU

The Me you don't know by Dana91 ( T | 1,391 | 1/1 )

Sequel to "Meeting Again", same AU.

Just a really emotionally constipated Bakugo and a new "Deku" he is not familiar with. Someone should switch off those emotions for him anyway.

Series Part 2 of Shiketsu AU

Love That's Left Behind by ploThief ( T | 1,439 | 1/1 )

The trio flinch when they hear the tale-tell guttural moan of hungry zombies. Two new zombies have heard the commotion. One looks savage, face twisted forever in an angry scowl. The other is plainer, moving with a slight limp. The two are bloodied and dirty, but in much better condition than most zombies they cross. Newly turned, Ochaco’s mind supplies. It leaves a bitter taste in her mouth.

[Major Character Death]

Into the Night by MadamBlue ( M | 1,721 | 1/1 )

He takes a step.

The world doesn't need me.

Another step.

I'm useless.

He braces himself on the low wall.

I can't control my quirk.

In one swift movement, he scales the wall and stands tall, looking out into the night one last time. In a strange way, he felt at peace. The day was already cold and calm, just how he wanted to feel.

I can't protect anyone.

Izuku takes one final breath and closes his eyes, his foot outstretched to take the final plunge.

[Suicide Attempt]

Being Alive is the Most Comforting Thing We Have by Mrs_AgustD ( M | 1,135 | 1/1 )

“'Suki, please no” The typically violent tempered blond freezes all movement, just like the blood in his veins freeze. 'Suki 'Suki 'Suki The word echoes and bounces around the inside of his skull, and he feels bile rise up his throat and he panics. Only one person calls him 'Suki, but he’s dead, he is so very dead.

[Anxiety Attacks | Mentions of Self-Harm]

#BakuDeku #KatsuDeku #BNHA #bkdkfl masterlist #masterlist #w:os #ws:complete #g:angst #w:mcd #t:s #w:violence #t:bullying #t:panic #w:rape #t:abuse #t:sh #curator ellie

[wintersqueenmab]

Silly, do all the questions you definitely deleted. All of them.

Well, since you asked so nicely, sure. Under the readmore to save dashboard space.

1. how tall are you?

I’m 5 foot, 9 inches tall, or 175 centimeters for those of you using metric units.

2. what is your body type?

Softer than I’d like, but otherwise pretty standard.

3. what is your favorite part about your body?

I do like the color of my eyes, and I think my hands are pretty nice.

4. is your current hair color your natural hair color?

Partially, yes. However, the top of my head is currently a cotton candy riot, so not that part.

5. are you more outgoing or more shy?

I like to pull off the shy -> outgoing combo for maximum damage.

6. are you more femme or butch?

Being AMAB, I’m pretty sure I’m automatically on the butch side. Not where I’d like to keep it, though.

7. are you tol or smol?

I don’t think 5′9″ is very tall, or very small. The middle it is, then.

8. wine mom or vodka aunt?

Definitely vodka aunt.

9. weird habit?

Does eating popcorn seeds count?

10. favorite meme?

I’m a sucker for bass boosting in the middle of otherwise normal videos.

11. do you sing in the shower?

Ironically, that’s one of the only places I don’t sing.

12. ever used a bow and arrow?

A couple times, but never in any seriousness.

13. are/were you a theatre kid?

Not currently, but I definitely was in high school. Would love to go back.

14. have you ever seen a broadway musical?

Nah, son. Shit’s expensive.

15. do you think musicals are cheesy?

Yes, but in a good way.

16. have you ever been a part of a protest or a march?

Sadly not.

17. favorite Cards Against Humanity Card?

“Pac-Man uncontrollably guzzling cum.”

18. last movie you watched?

Spider-Man: Far from Home.

19. behind the camera or in front of it?

In front, definitely. Doing theater has shown me that I love being in the spotlight.

20. favorite tv show?

Toss up between Steven Universe and A:tLA.

21. meaning behind your url

Comes from an old username I had a long time ago. I still use Rydyr for most things online.

22. reason you joined tumblr

Kingdom Hearts fandom, then almost immediately comboed into Homestuck.

23. who’s your closest tumblr friend?

Probably samysticeti.

24. what’s something most people love that you hate?

Lord of the Rings.

25. have you ever taken narcotics?

Nope.

26. have you had sex?

Sure have.

27. have you ever gotten caught sneaking out or doing anything bad?

Yes, several times.

28. worst/funniest lie you’ve ever told?

I once told my dad that my brother had destroyed my writing journal to get out of writing in it for the day. It worked!

29. describe your passion without mentioning it.

Getting to know systems and the best way to exploit them is pretty dang neat.

30. describe your best friend.

Always there for me, even when I don’t want them there. But they know better.

31. give us one thing about you that no one knows.

Now, what makes you think you’ve earned that?

32. how do you feel right now?

Slightly irritated at the amount of formatting work I had to do for this (a lot), but otherwise good. Go listen to Starlight Brigade if you haven’t heard it, it’s fantastic.

33. what is your biggest fear?

Not becoming who I want to be.

34. what’s a song that always makes you happy when you hear it?

Glory, by Bastille.

35. what is the best decision you’ve made in your life so far?

Being more outgoing has, in general, done a ton for me.

36. have you ever tried your hardest and then been disappointed in the end?

Yeah. That’s life, though.

37. something you fantasize about.

Financial stability, a harem of cuties, being in a harem of cuties. Lots of unattainable goals.

38. last time you cried and why

A while ago, probably over past relationships.

39. what was the last thing that made you laugh?

A dumb play my friend made in a League of Legends match.

40. do you really, truly miss someone right now?

Always.

41. who do you feel most comfortable talking to about anything?

Honestly, nobody. Without sounding like an edgelord, there’s a lot I don’t want people to know because they’d just worry.

42. the last time you felt broken?

Last night.

43. are you starting to realize anything

Many, many things.

44. are you more dominant or more submissive

Depends on the context, obviously. I try to be assertive in everyday life, but I think I’m more submissive in the bedroom.

45. i’ll only date you if _____. (fill in the blank)

I’ll only date you if you treat me with respect.

46. do you prefer to date people the same age as you, younger, or older?

I don’t have any real preference, but I think I’d feel weird if I dated someone significantly younger than myself.

47. describe the person you’re in love with/have a crush on in great detail.

That’s not fair; I have too many crushes to single anyone out. One of the pros/cons of being poly.

48. do you have any kinks?

Look, there’s a whole ass list here. Gotta get more specific.

49. first thing you notice in a person?

Probably their voice if I’m actually interacting with them. If I’m seeing them from afar, it’s their hair.

50. how can someone win your heart?

By being sweet to me.

51. been rejected by a crush?

Of course.

52. have you ever had feelings for someone who didn’t have them back?

Tons of times.

53. would you have sex with the last person you text messaged?

If they were down, yeah.

54. is trust a big issue for you?

Like, do I have trust issues? Not really. Is it a big thing for me in a relationship? Once we hit a certain point, yeah.

55. did you hang out with the person you like recently?

A couple of them, yeah. Not nearly enough, though.

56. is confidence cute?

It’s fucking sexy.

57. what would you say if the person you love/like kissed another girl/boy?

Good for them! They’re living their best life. Fuck jealousy.

58. would you be able to date someone who doesn’t make you laugh?

Probably not. I love being with funny people.

59. does the person you have feelings for right now know you do?

At least one of them does. I try not to make it a big deal.

60. ever embarrass yourself in front of a crush?

I’ve embarrassed myself in front of my partners more times than I care to count.

61. do you want to get married

Not unless the government gets really cool about a lot of things really quickly.

62. worst thing you’ve ever done?

Lied to people that trusted me.

63. three things that turn you on.

Confidence, a nice pair of legs, and the ability to take charge.

64. who do you hate?

Nazis.

65. favorite term of endearment?

Stardust.

66. who was your celebrity/fictional gay awakening?

Probably some fucking Homestuck characters, I dunno.

67. intimidating girls or kind girls?

Both. Both? Both are great.

68. what do you look for in a possible partner?

We gotta like the same stuff. Also want to get freaky in the bedroom the same way.

69. do you tend to like more masculine, feminine, or androgynous girls?

Sixty-nine, eyyyyy. Uh, all of them.

70. are you good at flirting?

Only when I’m unaware I’m doing it.

71. who was the first person you came out to?

My friends in high school.

72. do you have any friends who are wlw?

Yes! Several.

73. is your crush wlw?

Some of them are, yeah.

74. last person to make you reconsider your sexuality?

Pretty much literally any attractive person. I think about it a lot.

75. write a short love poem to your crush/self?

I wish you’d know me

As I’ve gotten to know you

See me as I am

76. do you fall in love easily?

Love, no. Infatuation? Almost pathetically so, yeah.

77. is there something that happened in your past that you hate talking about?

Boy fucking howdy, yeah.

78. are you good at hiding your feelings?

Yep.

79. are you a forgiving person?

Extremely. I just wanna be friends with everyone.

80. what is your “type?”

Kind people that can slam me against a wall and make me thank them for the privilege.

81. fall asleep in her arms or rub her back until she falls asleep in yours?

B O T H

82. tall girls or short girls?

I’d love to be with a girl that just fucking dwarfs me in height.

83. hugs or kisses?

I fucking love hugs. And I’ve had strangers tell me I give great hugs, so I wanna share that with others.

84. twirl her around or get twirled?

Fuck, dude, I’d sure love to get twirled.

85. tummy kisses or thigh kisses?

A tummy kiss that transitions into a big fucking tummy raspberry.

86. hairline kisses or neck kisses?

Neck kisses, hell fucking yeah.

87. play with her hair or stroke her tummy?

Hair, absolutely. Too many people are ticklish.

88. making out or soft kisses?

I don’t understand why I need to choose here. They’re both great in different situations.

89. hugs around the neck or hugs around the waist?

Waist! Easier to pick people up that way.

90. how confident are you in your sexuality?

I’m pretty confident in my ability to be attracted to nearly anyone that’s nice to me.

91. when you like someone do you blush or get butterflies in your stomach?

Butterflies, with blushing only when I get embarrassed around them.

92. have you ever liked a friend as more than a friend? did you tell them?

Yes and yes.

93. how old were you when you realized you were into girls?

Well, being AMAB, this was pretty early. It took me a lot longer to accept being into guys.

94. most embarrassing thing you’ve done in front of a cute girl?

There was this one time I just nerded out about MtG for like ten minutes, and she was just sitting nearby. When I saw her, I almost died.

95. do you have a favorite lesbian ship? is it canon?

Rosemary from Homestuck. It’s so good.

96. what is the most aggravating thing someone has said to you about your sexuality?

“Are you sure you can’t just pick one person and stick to them?”

97. when was the last time a girl made your heart flutter?

Like six hours ago.

98. what is love to you?

Love is caring about another person more than yourself. It’s wanting the best for them at all times. It’s being happy when they’re happy and being sad when they’re sad. It’s seeing the universe in their smile, and glimpsing eternity in how they make you feel.

99. ask me anything.

Well, this sure is awkward. If you read all this, congrats! You know more about me now than my own parents probably do. Have a great night, everyone.

#me #ask meme #99 questions #this was fun to do

[fanfictionconnectionwordpress]

Mystic Messenger Fanfiction | Vanderwood+Seven - Wrecked Ass

***I've been involved in a number of things lately, and this is one of them! This idea was a collaboration with @chaoticstarblossoms, my official FFC artist and best friend. This is what we ended up with - to post for @vanderweek. This is for Day 6 prompt Partners~ Regular posting will resume next week, I'm thinking. ~Let's Connect! FFC***

Vanderwood could hear it. That accursed song. Seven had become obsessed with it lately. More like, ever since Vanderwood had complained about it on a mission, Seven would play the song whenever the elder agent came over to check on the redhead’s work. It was nearly constantly on repeat while Vanderwood would clean - the environment far too dirty for any sensible person to be able to work in, let alone himself with his OCD.

He called out into the bunker as soon as he entered. “Turn that shit off before I tase you!” That was how it always started, and for a while it would be off - until Vanderwood would start cleaning and get too in-the-zone to step away. Seven knew Vanderwood had to accomplish each task before he could pause. That asshole. This time, though, the music didn’t turn off.

The agent stepped into the living room of the bunker - eyebrow twitching at the mess everywhere. Where was the music even coming from? It was fainter than normal. Something was off. Vanderwood undid the clasp on his taser-holster, pulling it back for easy access as he pulled out his gun from its hiding spot. There was something very off about this.

It didn’t feel like there was danger afoot - more like the redhead was up to his tricks again. If there was a trick, Vanderwood didn’t want to be involved. He had to find Seven before shit could go down. Every room would have to be scanned, and he started with the computer room and bedroom - eyebrow twitching at the mess but thankfully able to ignore it now that he was slipping into work mode.

Vanderwood stalked from room to room, holding his gun forward and scanning every nook and cranny before he moved on to the next. Some of the rooms, he could hear the music more loudly than others. Still, it would be a mistake not to check every room until he found the right one. The music could just as easily have been a diversion, and Vanderwood didn’t want to get caught in a trap because he was playing hot and cold with some CD player.

He opened another door, checking around and nearly muttering, ‘Clear,’ to himself before he saw it. A pair of glowing orange eyes lit up. Bloody fucking Hell. What in the God-damn universe was that? Seven had a number of ridiculous things in his bunker, but the things that Vanderwood hated the most were the kid’s gadgets. He built all sorts of robots and creatures, and each seemed more dangerous than the last.

A, “Woof!” reverberated through the room - the apparently robot-dog stepping forward into the dim lighting coming from the opened door. Its mouth opened again - an orange glow appearing slowly. Fear clutched Vanderwood, an emotion which was very rare for him. Typically, he would have rushes of adrenaline but never outright fear. However, there was a bloody fire-breathing robot-dog in the bloody bunker!

Vanderwood popped off a shot or two, slamming the door closed as the beast staggered back. He held the door in place, chestnut-brown eyes widening as the door seemed to grow hot - giving off enough heat for him to worry that his long hair was going to light aflame. It didn’t, but he felt his anger rising even more. Was the little asshole trying to kill him?

With renewed energy, Vanderwood was back to his scanning. Every room from then on was clear - the sound getting louder and louder as he approached the final room in the house. It was the garage. Vanderwood hadn’t thought that the kid would put his, ‘baby cars,’ at risk enough to plot some trick in there, but maybe he was underestimating the redhead’s trickery. Either way - when all of this was over, Vanderwood was going to whoop the redhead’s ass. Or tase him. One or the other. Bloody Hell, why not both?

Slowly, with all the care in the world, Vanderwood opened the door into the garage. He was blasted with the song on an even higher volume that made his already damaged ears ring. The agent kept his gun up, scanning the surroundings. Where the fuck were the cars? That was when he caught it, movement from the corner of his eyes. Vanderwood had previously cleared that space, but he hadn’t looked at the ceiling.

There was now a large wrecking ball coming down from above, falling in a bee-line towards him as Vanderwood jumped back, pressing himself against the wall. Thankfully, the wrecking ball stopped just a foot from him. Seven had apparently planned for that, and he’d also planned for the outfit that he was wearing as he sat atop the bloody wrecking ball, seemingly lip-synching to the music.

Vanderwood couldn’t even make his brain function to put his gun back in its place. He watched, completely dumbfounded, as Seven swung back and forth on the item in what was very clearly a nude bodysuit. Thank fuck that the kid wasn’t actually naked. Though even the idea of it was enough to make Vanderwood shiver.

In the span of a minute - Vanderwood had gone from violently angry to scared for his life, confused as all Hell, and now back to violently angry all over again. “Zero Seven! Get the fuck off that bloody thing!” How had the kid even gotten that into the house? Where were the cars? They certainly weren’t here. Those were some premium luxury cars, too. The agent took comfort in the fact that Seven at least loved those precious commodities enough not to have destroyed them for this stupid trick.

Seven was laughing so hard now that he could barely even hear Vanderwood launching into a yelled lecture. That look on his partner’s face had been worth all of the hard work he’d done to get his baby cars moved to a secure location and then building his wrecking ball from scratch while hanging from the ceiling. Truly, this was his greatest accomplishment yet. There wasn’t even a way for Vanderwood to make him stop, because it was swinging back and forth like the very dangerous one-ton pendulum that it was.

Or so he’d thought. Seven had been so busy with setting up the specifics of how to build it and making sure that he wouldn’t actually hit Vanderwood when the ball fell, that he hadn’t accounted for how short of a time it would take gravity to slow the object in question. Already, its swing was shorter - getting shorter by the second. That detail wasn’t missed by the elder agent.

A dark smirk curved on Vanderwood’s lips as he realized what was happening. Seven had stopped laughing now to throw puns at him, and Vanderwood kept the redhead busy by continually responding - pretending that he still wanted the kid to get off the thing by himself. All the while, he was moving slightly closer as the swing lessened - so that Seven wouldn’t notice just how small the swing had gotten. When it was nearly to the middle of the room, he saw the realization cross the redhead’s face.

He hadn’t planned for this! Seven only realized what was happening when he questioned why he was getting a look at Vanderwood’s face so often now. The redhead sat petrified, trying to come up with the escape plan that he’d neglected to create beforehand. Curse his uncontrollable excitement! Probably the worst part of it was that the older agent wasn’t even doing anything. Seven looked up at the male, clutching the rope on his wrecking ball for dear life.

Vanderwood loved the way that Seven’s eyes were widening, preparing for his impending doom and punishment. He just stood there, letting the guy stew in it. Seven made a nervous chuckle after they’d been motionless for a minute or two, trying to get off of the wrecking ball. “I should get going to work, huh?”

The older agent just pressed his hand to Seven’s back, keeping him in place atop the item. “You want to get to work now? You look busy to me.” The music was making his ears ring more the longer it played so loudly, but he didn’t care right now. Seven deserved some torture after what he’d done. He watched as the redhead shifted uncomfortably on the large sphere, clearly not a good position to be in for long periods of time. “Uh…Yeah…I’d like to get to work!”

This device of his was so uncomfortable that Seven was sure it would wreck his ass if he didn’t get off of it soon. Maybe if he kept pretending like nothing had happened, Vanderwood would be nice and let him off the hook? Unlikely, but he had to give it a try. “I’ll just get right on it!” Again, he tried to move and was stopped. “You’re already on it.” His eyes flicked to the wrecking ball and back to Seven’s face. “You certainly came in like the wrecking ball you are, today.”

Vanderwood shifted, getting some earplugs out from an inner pocket of his jacket and in a deliberately slow motion, inserting them into his own ears. He was probably speaking much louder now thanks to them, but he’d been practically shouting over the music already. “We’ve got plenty of time before the deadline, so why don’t you enjoy your music a little bit longer?”

He could still faintly hear the song past the earplugs, and it was playing in his head, too. At least the painful ringing was gone. That, and there was another reward out of this. Seven would never again play that song - certainly not on repeat. The boy had a sore ass for a week. Vanderwood hadn’t even needed to whoop it to make that happen.

Like this? Want more? Check out my tumblr or website =0 ~Let’s Connect! FFC

#vanderwood #mystic messenger #mystic messenger fanfiction #saeyoung choi #vanderweek #mysmes

[mallowmarshstan]

Early Blooms and Late Blooms

A little one-shot (possibly) of the puberty headcanon I had (and so did another Tumblr user have an au similar ! :D ) 

Craig starts puberty early and before everyone else in the class. Craig faces the difficulties of puberty with Tweek by his side. Tweek, on the other hand, is a late bloomer.

It was the September of 6th Grade when everyone noticed a change in Craig. His face had been speckled in pimples, his hair under his hat became greasy, an onion-y odor seemed to follow him around, and his already tall height shot up even more. Craig’s parents had already sat him down and gave him the talk of the birds and the bees.

Laura Tucker looked at her eldest child sitting on their couch. “Well, Craig, you’re of that age now where changes happen.” “What kind of changes, Mom?” Craig asked flatly, he had already taken notice of everything going on with his body. Obviously. It was his body.

Laura shifted uncomfortably and sighed. She knew having a son would mean she’d have to give him the talk. She just never expected it to be so soon it felt like. She imagined her son sitting on the couch as the same little boy who begged for a guinea pig for his 6th birthday. 

“You know, Craig, with your body and the changes you’re experiencing…..Thomas, YOU tell him! You’re the man!” Laura glared at her tall husband.

“Why the hell should I tell him?! YOUR mom was the nurse!” Thomas Tucker’s eyebrows furrowed. The topic of puberty being a touchy subject for everyone.

The Tuckers began to argue and flip each other off. Craig quietly went upstairs to avoid his parent’s screaming match. It was normal for them to argue and yell but probably not normal for other families. At least that’s what Craig thought. He knew Kenny’s parents would beat the shit out of each other. The Tucker’s fighting never got that bad though. 

Laura yelled up the stairs after her only son. “Craig!! From now on if Tweek spends the night he’ll have to sleep on the floor!! I don’t want any funny business, Mister!”

Funny business?

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Days at school was a living hell for Craig. The other boys teased him and the girls avoided him like the plague even though he was gay. Everyone knew that.  Craig was in a committed relationship with Tweek Tweak. Craig didn’t give a fuck what people thought of him. It was a natural thing for the body to do at a certain age. And if anyone didn’t like it they could fuck off. Especially Stan and those assholes.  

Tweek didn’t mind his boyfriend’s change because, for the most part, Craig was still the same Craig.  He was still the same monotone nasally voice black haired beauty he loved. Craig still was there to calm Tweek down when he got too freaked out or when he got too angry at something. At lunch, Tweek still sat next to Craig. Craig’s friends, Clyde, Token, Jimmy, and Jason ignored him until he invested in some deodorant. They hoped it was soon. So, they sat at another table. Tweek figured if Craig could handle his panic attacks and coffee breath, he himself could handle Craig’s body odor. It was awful though. Tweek could not deny that.

Tweek sat next to his boyfriend and looked at him adoringly. “Craig? Can I -NGH- ask you something? Jesus, don’t be mad!”

“Yes, Tweek?” Craig looked up from his bag of chips.

“Are aliens laying eggs in your face? And that’s what those red blotches are?” Tweek scooted away from Craig just a bit.

Craig rolled his eyes and glared at the twitching blonde and said nasally. Aliens in his face? He wondered what went on inside Tweek’s head.

“No, Tweek. Aliens are not laying eggs in my face. They’re called pimples. It’s normal for puberty. You’ll get them too.”

Tweek’s jaw dropped a little. “Puberty?! I thought we weren’t supposed to get that until later on?!”

“I must have started early,”, Craig shrugged, “By the way, my parents said that when we have our sleepovers we can’t sleep together. You have to sleep on the floor. But, I’ll take the floor. You can take the bed.”

“Why can’t we sleep together anymore?! Did I do something wrong? OH GOD!” Tweek’s hand reached for his hair to pull at.

Craig caught his boyfriend’s hand in time and held it. Craig knew exactly why his parents told him not to sleep in bed with Tweek. His body had started going through strange changes. Craig blushed at the thought of what had happened a few times at night and how he woke up with sticky sheets. Instead of answering Tweek’s question and going through a big awkward explanation, Craig simply shrugged.

Lunch was silent after that, except for the strange noises Tweek made. Craig was used to it though. When he first met Tweek it annoyed him but he quickly found them endearing.  Craig kept looking over at his boyfriend and couldn’t for the life of him find anything sexually appealing about him. He was cute and adorable but not sexy. Tweek was attractive but Craig had no desire to try anything more than just hugs and kisses with his boyfriend. Tweek and Craig had watched porn together a few times but it was weird and they both agreed they could never do what the men on the screen did. That was before Craig started puberty and even now that he had started puberty he still couldn’t imagine Tweek that way. It was already weird that Tweek only came up to his shoulder now. Craig had always been tall but now this was just ridiculous.

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On Fridays, Tweek and Craig had sleepovers at the Tucker’s. Their sleepovers crept into Saturdays and almost Sunday nights. Tweek’s parents were too tired from the busy week at the coffee shoppe to host a sleepover.  It was always the Tucker house where they had their sleepovers. The Tweaks creeped Craig out and he just knew something was off about Richard Tweak. Craig just couldn’t put his finger on it.  Plus, Craig hated coffee and that’s what the Tweak’s drank with every meal. How Tweek’s kidneys hadn’t shut down yet baffled Craig.

Tweek sat in Craig’s room and looked into Stripe the guinea pig’s cage. This was Stripe #8.  Tweek’s blonde freshly wet hair from the shower flatly sat on Tweek’s head. It was similar to when South Park went through their metrosexual phase and Craig had to hold Tweek down to gel his hair down. Craig and Tweek used to sneak and take showers together to save on the hot water but since Craig started puberty that was a real no-no. Back then it was different. Craig missed those days.  Tweek was curious about what Craig’s body looked like now but was too freaked out by it all to suggest a shared shower.

Craig came up behind his boyfriend silently from his own shower and gently placed his hand on Tweek’s shoulder. “Isn’t she beautiful?”

Craig’s voice cracked.

“WHAT THE FUCK!!,” Tweek threw his arms in the hair and shook uncontrollably, not realizing that it was his lovely boyfriend behind him and not a robber.

Craig quickly spun the computer chair around so Tweek could face him. He had known better than to sneak up behind his boyfriend. “Babe, calm down. It’s me. My voice cracked.  It’s still me. Calm down.”

Tweek’s greenish hazel eyes were wide with terror and one twitched, he was breathing heavily and his face was white as a ghost. Craig held his boyfriend close to his chest and gently rocked the smaller boy’s body. Tweek slowly stopped twitching and relaxed in his boyfriend’s arms.

“That scared me.”

“I know.”

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Later that night Craig had set up pillows and blankets on the floor of his bed. He insisted Tweek take the bed. Craig honestly didn’t want to sleep on the floor but he didn’t want Tweek to wake up with a puddle of stickiness on his lower back. Not only would that be awkward and embarrassing but Craig was certain Tweek would freak out and claim that he was probed in the night and an alien left fluid on him. Something along those lines. Craig never knew that odd thing Tweek would come up with next. Craig got onto the floor and looked up at his bed with the space sheets, the Red Racer ones were in the wash. Thank you, puberty.

Tweek finally spoke. “Craig? Please, can we cuddle? My room has a night light and yours’ doesn't. And it’s scary and what if-”

“No, Tweek. You’ll be fucking fine. Goodnight,” Craig cut his boyfriend off. His hormones had made him very easily annoyed and with a certain twitchy paranoid blonde around him always, he was like a firework ready to explode sometimes. He didn’t want to be harsh to Tweek but it was already bad enough he was sleeping on the floor. He was exhausted from school. He just wanted to go to bed. With or without Tweek at his side. Craig knew he could be stubborn and now was one of those times. 

The rest of the night Craig was kept awake with the sniffles and whimpers of his favorite blonde.

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“What do you mean you’re not going to spend the night again?” Craig asked as he watched Tweek pack up his clothes into his backpack. Tweek was still in his pajamas but had pulled on his sneakers.

Tweek whirled around and looked up at Craig. “You made me cry last night! And you didn’t even care! -NGH- You asshole!”

“You’re being a child. Just stay and eat breakfast and see what happen!,” Craig frowned and reached for Tweek’s backpack.

The blonde jerked away from his boyfriend and walked to the door. “Just because you’re a puberty monster doesn’t mean I’m a fucking child, CRAIG.”

Craig rolled his eyes and followed Tweek, “Babe… I’m sorry and I love you.”

“I love you too,” Tweek stopped in his tracks and smiled a little. Those three words were all he needed to hear to ease his frustration.

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That night after watching movies and eating pizza, Craig and Tweek sat in Craig’s room. It was odd because things were still strained between them.  The Tuckers didn’t drink coffee in their house and that made for an irritable and cranky Tweek. Normally Tweek could bring a few thermoses of coffee with him but this time he forgot.

“I’m tired,” Tweek finally said with a yawn.

Craig stood up, “Yeah, me too.”, He looked down at his favorite person in the world and smiled a little. He did miss cuddling with Tweek last night. Tweek was like a human hot blanket and Craig got cold easily.

“Well...goodnight then,” Tweek got into the bed and much to his surprise Craig followed him.

Craig wrapped his arms around Tweek. “Goodnight, honey. Don’t tell my parents.”

“BUT I THOUGHT!!” The coffee-addicted Tweek shot up and gripped the sheets.

Craig pressed his lips to Tweek’s to hush him up and slowly pulled away with a shhh. Tweek stayed quiet and nodded. Kisses always made Tweek silent.

“It’ll be okay. Just don’t tell my parents,” Craig assured Tweek. Although, he was unsure of his own words.

Tweek nodded and curled himself close to Craig’s body and gently stroked his black-haired boyfriend’s side until he fell asleep. Craig held his precious yet feisty Tweek close and looked at his face loving and slowly fell asleep.

Much to Craig’s surprise, Tweek thankfully didn’t wake up to alien probing liquid on his lower back.

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Months passed and sure enough, the other boys in the class started puberty.  The classrooms smelled like petting zoos and onions. The only person who seemed to be left behind in the puberty was dear Tweek. Even Butters surpassed Tweek. The girls got breasts and each became moody one a month. The boys had deep voices that cracked and sometimes put books over their laps in the middle of class. The other students would knock Tweek down in the halls. Tweek was naturally tiny but now he was an easy target. He wanted to stand up for himself but he figured it wasn’t any use. Craig defended him though, like a good boyfriend.  Tweek knew Craig was easily annoyed by him so Tweek tried to keep his paranoia to himself. It didn’t work. Craig still had his monotone nasal voice but just a few octaves deeper. Tweek didn’t understand why he hadn’t started puberty. He was almost 14 and nothing had happened. He longed for pimples and body hair growth. Craig had awkwardly told him about the weird dreams and waking up with puddles of stickiness on his sheets. It was an odd subject but Tweek wanted to know everything about it. And just because Tweek was his favorite person, Craig told Tweek everything about his wet dreams.

The other boys in school would brag about how many times a week they would masturbate. The biggest asshole of the class, Eric Cartman, would sometimes pop his pimples in the direction of his frenemy Kyle and had the goop hit him.

“You fucking asshole, Cartman!” Kyle yelled.

Tweek looked around the classroom to take in everyone’s different bodies. There was Craig who shot up to 6′0 and seemed to be growing every day. He shaved regularly so he had a fresh face but still had pimples. Clyde had gained weight and stood at about 5′8, he had a few acne blemishes from his food choices but his father got him Accutane.  Wendy was stunning. She was slim but kept her dark hair short. She had zero pimples but refused to shave her body hair as a statement. Her boyfriend, Stan, was grossed out by the idea at first but stayed with her. Stan, himself, was covered in leg and arm hair and a weak mustache on his upper lip which his dad would joke that he must have been hit with dirt. Kyle had zero pimples, much like Wendy, and seemed to be short compared to his friends. His body hair was red and everyone called him fire-crotch. Eric Cartman was a whopping 280 and about only 5′7. His face was covered in acne and he was trying to grow a neckbeard. He smelled like Cheeto dust and ham farts. Kenny was long and lanky and stole razors from the pharmacy to shave his body and face. Token’s voice had deepened and it was smooth. Nearly every girl crushed on him. He was tall, dark and handsome. Jimmy, as well, was handsome. With only a scattering of acne on his forehead. His stuttering voice was cracked regularly. Bebe was one word: thicc. Then there was Butters. Butters was still as sweet and naive as he had always been, just 6 foot tall.  Tweek ignored most of the girls and their physical accomplishments because they didn’t interest him. Only Wendy and Bebe did. Wendy was a friend of his and Bebe was his cousin. Tweek seemed to be a kitten in a group of lions. 

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

“You’re just a late bloomer, honey,” Mrs.Tweak would say as she poured coffee into her son’s mug, not realizing that the coffee had stunted her son’s growth.

“Don’t worry about it, babe. You’ll go through puberty eventually. Remember what Mulan’s dad said to her? The late blossoms bloom the most beautiful or something? That’s gonna be you,” Craig would say monotone as he gently ruffled his boyfriend’s hair, unsure of what to do with Tweek without it being awkward and uncomfortable for the both of them.

“You know, son, I was a late bloomer myself. Late, like the pansy flower who, with proper care, will bloom late into the year. The pansy beautiful and soft like out mild blends here at Tweak coffee. Coffee that is gentle like the cool breeze on an autumn day,” Richard Tweek would say leaned against the kitchen counter as he drank his mug. Comparing the situation to a pansy flower did not help at all.

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It was frustrating for Tweek to walk in the hallways holding Craig’s hand and all the other kids being at least a head taller than him. It was also frustrating that he came up to almost everyone’s shoulders and the general armpit area. After gym class really fucking sucked.

“Hey, babe? Is that a zit?” Craig leaned down with a smile to examine Tweek’s face, “Holy shit! It is!”

Tweek brightened up and smiled, exposing a few gapped teeth. “OhmyGod! Craig! A pimple? Does that mean?”

“Babe, I think you’re about to start puberty!” Craig put his hands on his boyfriend’s face and felt around for more.

Sure enough, Tweek started puberty soon after and Craig and Tweek faced the awkward struggles of puberty together.

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also did you notice I really suck at punctuating dialogue? 

#tweek tweak #craig tucker #south park #sp creek #creek #sp #south park fanfic

[downtheaxon]

trigger warning: this is a meditation on the after-effects of sexual assault and relationship violence, featuring explicit discussion of suicidality and self harm. I know I write on these themes a lot, but I feel like this is more raw than usual and something that could potentially hurt a few of you - even if we are close friends, please don’t feel pressured to read it. 

reassuring comment added now that I’ve written everything: I’m posting this as an exercise in vulnerability and a cry for comfort. that said, I am safe and feel like I should reassure everyone of that. I am safe and now that this is over I will crochet, eat some soup, and go to two yoga classes. maybe play some piano. writing like this externalizes the heaviness and makes me see it from an outsider’s perspective, which helps me pull out a lot of self-compassion. though I feel this way on some level, I also feel an urgent need to care for myself on other levels, and reach out when in crisis - in short, I am safe but have a lot to process. and processing it publicly like this helps with the shame I feel and will likely help me bring this up in my next therapy phonecall.  

I finally have a day off and haven’t written about my mind in a really long while. but, before I write (which may take an hour and my god is it an hour that I need) I will put some salmon on my plate and brew a cup of black cherry tea. let me get back to you.

I’m letting hayley kiyoko’s girls like girls finish playing before I put on my spotify daily mix number 4 (hozier, bon iver, handmouth and more, apparently). there’s a cut grapefruit and salmon and tea near me, and my coffee cup that’s almost finished but has gone a bit cold by now. I don’t know why it is that writing through tumblr makes me express myself most truthfully, more truthfully than if I opened evernote or textedit or wrote on paper or if I spoke to someone directly via voice or text. the liminal space of having no audience while having a vast audience is comforting, I guess. a different kind of false vulnerability coupled with a kind of anonymity. 

now that I’ve put on daily mix 4, let me start by saying what I thought to say when I got up to make tea: I am permeated by sadness. 

it is exhausting to be permeated by sadness. I feel it at the base of my sternum, stirring gently, right at home in my very core. agitated when something goes wrong, and peacefully present otherwise. this is all a cliche, I know. I know. but lately my sadness feels like its own separate entity, living comfortably in me, and almost harmoniously. it keeps quiet sometimes, which I am grateful for, but still nuzzles into me just to remind me - I’m here and will always be here and that’s ok. 

and that’s ok. 

I’m trying to make peace with who I am. I know that self-identity shapes perception. I know that thinking of myself as a cook makes me cook more, that thinking of myself as a yogi makes me take advantage of my unlimited classes more, that thinking of myself as mentally ill probably exacerbates symptoms (just think positive!). 

I’m trying to make peace with my limitations. my need for regularity in sleep and diet, my rapid exhaustion, my failing memory. my tendency to shut down completely. my readiness to cry when something hits me hard.

when something hits me hard.

I just paused in writing this to read a reference letter that my old volunteer coordinator wrote for a big national scholarship (she emailed it to me as I was writing this). and I cried. I cried at the cognitive dissonance of my brain repeatedly telling me how worthless I am and this person tangibly proving the wonderful things they have to say about me. it’s funny because I really believe that those two people exist at once. 

“I love me but I don’t love me back” to paraphrase a post I recently reblogged. 

how can I exist as selfish, unloveable, and needing to be hurt punished destroyed when I also exist as compassionate, kindhearted, intelligent, successful, and supportive? 

and yet my brain is convinced, convinced, that this is how this works. when I’m tired, I have less energy to devote to silencing the ever-pressing thought of “you don’t deserve to be alive”. I am not suicidal, per se, because I want to be alive. things are really looking up lately, and really working out, and I am involved in exciting initiatives and have mutually cared about wonderful and interesting people and am growing all the time... but I do not feel like I deserve it. 

how do I fight for the things I should be fighting for (like scholarships, authorship, opportunities, attention?) when I feel like I don’t deserve to relax, to eat, to laugh. 

my homework for therapy for these two weeks was to think about shame. let me say this: I am ashamed to tell anyone how I feel. I am ashamed of these complex feelings of no self worth, I am ashamed of my urge to self destruct, I am ashamed of my shame. I am ashamed to say the truth about how I feel, about what I experience, about how I react.

two weeks ago, at the doctor’s, I cried uncontrollably. and I mean that literally. I cry a lot, maybe once a week, and it’s often dramatic and torrential (and necessary). but these tears were... different somehow. I don’t remember a lot from the winter of 2014, when I spent more of my time awake in flashbacks to the past than in the present, but I suspect that these recent tears were similar to those days. 

“that’s not supposed to hurt” the doctor said very kindly very gently and I am on my back crying crying crying unable to see and I barely hear her and I am afraid and ashamed and crying. 

“I’m sorry, I have a history” was all I could choke up and she wouldn’t let it go. I know why, I know it’s her training, she needs to make sure it’s ok and not believe me when I say “it’s nothing, it’s fine, I’m ok” she’s supposed to push, to ask, to make me tell her. and I cry, I cry and I make it off the exam table to the chair where she writes my prescription and I cry I cry I cry. I step out of the office, to the lab to drop off the swab for testing (the poor lab tech does not acknowledge I am crying but is clearly uncomfortable), to the bathroom to cry more. fifteen minutes later I am unable to stop and I am hungry and want to go home so I walk through campus, first inside then outside, crying quietly, effortlessly. my face barely moves and tears just go and go and go and it’s raining outside and I keep crying. 

I walk home slowly and pick up my prescription close to the house, so nearly an hour has past since I started crying. I am more in control now, thankfully. the pharmacist says, in a whisper as she hands me the prescription “just try not to have relations with anyone” and something breaks more. tears and shame.

this is all a fucking cliche. 

I tell my therapist about it a week later, when I call him by the river, but I change the subject right after. we revisit it three times during the hour, always briefly, three sentences. how do I talk about it?

I know that there is so much I don’t remember. I know. the fall of 2013 is a blur of pain and I have recurring visions that I don’t know if they were true. when I am upset and think that I deserve to be hurt, I see myself getting pushed into a wall, right shoulder and bicep first, hip and head next. always the same image. but I don’t think that happened, because I would remember it.

(but what about the gap in my memory after he takes my phone from me?)

I estimate: how many times? first maybe two times a week, by the end every day. does every day count? when did it start being every day? it couldn’t have been every day. 

I know when the last times were with certainty. I know the dates and even the times of day. the circumstances. those are clear.

the cliche of talking about this (I don’t call it by the word almost ever I don’t call it by any word sometimes and today is one of those days) almost four years after it happened. over two weeks after my amygdala relived it anew. 

I think that’s the real trouble with these things. they feel like they keep happening. first, it wasn’t once. it was at least two times, but probably not more than a few dozen worth. probably. do the math. 

(god you’re pathetic, how could you ever let that happen a few dozen times? no one would do that, you must be making it up so that you can have an excuse to feel sorry for yourself)

and since it happened a lot (or didn’t happen at all, I made it up), the memories all muddled together, the fearshame returning all the time... it’s a cliche, I know, I know it’s a cliche, but it feels so recent. it feels like I can’t tell the difference between the act and the memory. the replica is the real thing, the same fearshame (I like putting those words together because that is the thing that feeds my sadness and it is one and the same). 

cliche, really. 

how do I cure this? how do I stop being stuck and having this on replay again and again and again. 

I feel like I’m dishonest with people who don’t know. if someone doesn’t know about this, well, they have the wrong idea about me. they don’t see the rot.

(the feeling of being fundamentally rotten and flawed, shame around who you are, the feeling of being destined to hurt anyone in the end, the feeling of being broken, the feeling of being fundamentally evil, the feeling of imposter syndrome on a greater scale, the feeling of inadequacy, the feeling of deserving this pain and so much more pain, the feeling of deserving getting slammed into a wall right shoulder first)

but I am ashamed. ashamed of the trauma rot pain. 

(hasthag bell let’s talk day and pretend that mental health exists in isolation of abuse and flawed power dynamics and people getting profoundly hurt by other people and that if we all just talked more it would go away but talking remains frightening when it’s not self contained in the conventional narrative)

how to combat the sense of��“no, you don’t understand, I’m not legitimately ill. I deserve to feel this way. I am doomed to sadness.”

I hate the just world hypothesis, that bad things happen to bad people and good things happen to good people. but I believe it.

and if bad things happened to me, it is because I am bad, and therefore I don’t deserve to be alive. but I am ashamed of that thought because if I say it out loud people will know how bad I am, how rotten, how destroyed, how obsessed with self pity. they will know and they will agree.

how can I be the worst human on earth and trick others into thinking that I am kind, loving, smart, supportive?

it is comical when the mental illness tricks you and you find yourself thinking “well, I couldn’t possibly be worse than hitler” and it says “oh no, trust me, you’re way worse than hitler”. I chuckle but the sadness stirs at the base of my sternum, awake and nuzzling into me. 

how do you heal when you remain convinced that you deserve to have your bones broken instead?

#personal #this is not a happy post

[nuclearbrachy]

Thank you @tigrerramon for letting me do this!

1. Who was the last person you held hands with?

My great grandmother. She was asking what I wanted to be ;v;

2. Are you outgoing or shy?

I’m very shy

3. Who are you looking forward to seeing?

Um no one in particular I guess. I don’t really see that many people

4. Are you easy to get along with?

I think so unless you really get on my nerves. Which is really hard to do. Other then that I can be a very chill if I’m comfortable with you.

5. If you were drunk would the person you like take care of you?

HELL YES THEY WOULD!

6. What kind of people are you attracted to?

someone that’s nice and smart *shrugs* tbh I don’t really know haha. I guess I’d date a nerd like me XD!

7. Do you think you’ll be in a relationship two months from now?

NO

8. Who from the opposite gender is on your mind?

I guess my friends *shrugs*

9. Does talking about sex make you uncomfortable?

It depends on who I’m talking to because If I’m really comfortable with someone than I’m done for talking about anything 

10. Who was the last person you had a deep conversation with?

My grandmother I think

11. What does the most recent text that you sent say?

“I hope you get good rest”

12. What are your 5 favorite songs right now?

In no particular order:

Swimming Pools (Drank) by Kendrick Lamar

We Got the Power (feat. Jehnny Beth) by Gorillaz

Persecution of the Masses (1172) by Shiro Sagisu

Ichthyosaurus Communis by Austin Wintory

Battle! (Giratina) by Jun’ichi Masuda, Go Ichinose & GAME FREAK

13. Do you like it when people play with your hair?

No

14. Do you believe in luck and miracles?

I came this far in life so yeah I believe in luck and miracles

15. What good thing happened this summer?

Monster Hunter Generations.

16. Would you kiss the last person you kissed again?

I haven’t kissed anyone so....

17. Do you think there is life on other planets?

Yeah

18. Do you still talk to your first crush?

I haven't soon or talked to my first crush since preschool I think 

19. Do you like bubble baths?

I prefer showers

20. Do you like your neighbors?

Yeah, their good people

21. What are you bad habits?

Procrastinating, talking to my self, biting my nails, forgetting stuff, and a lot of other things that I can’t remember right now 

22. Where would you like to travel?

Um I heard the United Kingdom is nice. Okay I don’t really know where I would want to go

23. Do you have trust issues?

Yes

24. Favorite part of your daily routine?

Laying in bed after a long day and checking Tumblr, Discord, and Youtube

25. What part of your body are you most uncomfortable with?

EVERYTHING

26. What do you do when you wake up?

I check Tumblr on my phone

27. Do you wish your skin was lighter or darker?

I’m okay with my skin the way It is

28. Who are you most comfortable around?

My best friend, grandmothers, and some of my other family members

29. Have any of your ex’s told you they regret breaking up?

I’ve never been in a relationship so no

30. Do you ever want to get married?

Maybe

31. If your hair long enough for a pony tail?

No

32. Which celebrities would you have a threesome with?

None

33. Spell your name with your chin.

hnjsadzrfdefdrswazxdx- I tried

34. Do you play sports? What sports?

No I’m too lazy 

35. Would you rather live without TV or music?

I can live without TV. The Internet is my TV now

36. Have you ever liked someone and never told them?

YES

37. What do you say during awkward silences?

Not a damn thing. I usually leave the conversation when awkward silence starts

38. Describe your dream girl/guy?

Someone that really cares about me and accepts me for who I am. Someone can talk to about anything and have long fun conversation with. Someone that is patient with me and is understanding. Someone like that I don’t think they want to be with me

39. What are your favorite stores to shop in?

Gamestop, Best Buy, Barnes and Noble, and Target

40. What do you want to do after high school?

I didn’t know when I graduated and I don’t know now

41. Do you believe everyone deserves a second chance?

Sure, but that depends on what they did

42. If you’re being extremely quiet what does it mean?

Being extremely quiet is kinda my thing and usually means I just don’t have anything to say. I’m also quiet when stuff is bothering me like if I’m dealing with anxiety and depression or If I’m mad

43. Do you smile at strangers?

Sometimes

44. Trip to outer space or bottom of the ocean?

Bottom of the ocean

45. What makes you get out of bed in the morning?

Usually my classes on days I have school. Other then that It is entirely depends on my mood. Some days I just wake up with zero motivation to do anything

46. What are you paranoid about?

Failure, disappointing my family, my family in general, losing close friends, having no future, and being usless 

47. Have you ever been high?

No

48. Have you ever been drunk?

Double No

49. Have you done anything recently that you hope nobody finds out about?

Triple No

50. What was the colour of the last hoodie you wore?

It was all bright red

51. Ever wished you were someone else?

YES ALL THE TIME

52. One thing you wish you could change about yourself?

E V E R Y T H I N G

53. Favourite makeup brand?

I don’t wear makeup

54. Favourite store?

I already answered this on number  39

55. Favourite blog?

All the monster hunter ask and rp blogs that I follow

56. Favourite colour?

Green and Black

57. Favourite food?

Calamari

58. Last thing you ate?

Steak and French fries

59. First thing you ate this morning?

A peanutbutter bar

60. Ever won a competition? For what?

No

61. Been suspended/expelled? For what?

Nope, I don’t like causing any trouble

62. Been arrested? For what?

Another nope, I don’t like doing illegal things

63. Ever been in love?

Sure, If you call unhealthy fascination with a person love?

64. Tell us the story of your first kiss?

It never happened

65. Are you hungry right now?

LIKE A DEVILJHO

66. Do you like your tumblr friends more than your real friends?

I don’t have any irl friends so yeah (I’m pretty pathetic XD)

67. Facebook or Twitter?

Facebook

68. Twitter or Tumblr?

Tumblr

69. Are you watching tv right now?

Nope.

70. Names of your best friends?

Um I don’t think they would want their names on her

71. Craving something? What?

THE BOOTY ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) (nah I’m really craving that MONHUN STORIES!)

72. What colour are your towels?

Whatever random one I pick

72. How many pillows do you sleep with?

Two

73. Do you sleep with stuffed animals?

No

74. How many stuffed animals do you think you have?

MY LITTLE BRACHYDIOS PLUSHIES!!!

75. Favourite animal?

Crocodillians

76. What colour is your underwear?

Black

77. Chocolate or Vanilla?

Vanilla

78. Favourite ice cream flavour?

Butter Pecan and Salted Carmel

79. What colour shirt are you wearing?

Dark Blue with a small American Flag on the side

80. What colour pants?

Grey with a white stripe

81. Favourite tv show?

Sherlock, South Park, Monty Python’s Flying Circus, Puella Magi Madoka Magica, Free!, Steven Universe, My Little Pony…. Oh, what? WHAT?!

82. Favourite movie?

Jurassic Park, Pacific Rim, and 

83. Mean Girls or Mean Girls 2?

Mean Girls since its the only one that I watched

84. Mean Girls or 21 Jump Street?

21 Jump Street

85. Favourite character from Mean Girls?

If I barely remember watching this movie in highschool then what makes you think I remember the characters 

86. Favourite character from Finding Nemo?

Bruce, Anchor, and Chum

87. First person you talked to today?

My grandmother

88. Last person you talked to today?

My great grandmother

89. Name a person you hate?

I don’t waste my time hating people anymore

90. Name a person you love?

My family

91. Is there anyone you want to punch in the face right now?

Nobody

92. In a fight with someone?

No, I don’t like fights

93. How many sweatpants do you have?

Probably 10

94. How many sweaters/hoodies do you have?

3 or 5

95. Last movie you watched?

Secret Life of Pets with two of my little cousins

96. Favourite actress?

I don’t have one

97. Favourite actor?

I don’t have one

98. Do you tan a lot?

No, The sun is my mortal enemy

99. Have any pets?

I have 2 dogs. One is a female Shih-Tzu and the other is a male Chihuahua

100. How are you feeling?

A little tired

101. Do you type fast?

Depends

102. Do you regret anything from your past?

WHAT DO YOU THINK?!

103. Can you spell well?

Well enough, but I still butcher a lot of words

104. Do you miss anyone from your past?

Family members that have passed

105. Ever been to a bonfire party?

No

106. Ever broken someone’s heart?

Oh I think their was this girl in high school that would always flirt with me, but I always thought she was just joking until she told me why I didn’t bring her to prom and she was being serious. I told her sorry and that I always thought she was just messing with me. I don’t know If I broke her heart, but she looked kinda upset

107. Have you ever been on a horse?

Yeah, at some guy’s birthday party

108. What should you be doing?

Whatever I damn well please

109. Is something irritating you right now?

My mother

110. Have you ever liked someone so much it hurt?

Yes, I have

111. Writing or drawing?

Drawing even though I don’t do much of it now

112. Who was the last person you cried in front of?

My driving instructor because he was yelling at me. It was just the whole him yelling at me and the anxiety I was having caused me to break down in tears. It was really embarrassing now that I look back at it

113. What was your childhood nickname?

JJ

114. Have you ever been out of your province/state?

Yeah

115. Do you play the Wii?

I did, before my little cousin. He just kept crying and screaming he is sorry over and over again until me and my sister calmed him down. His dad was mad at him though

116. Are you listening to music right now?

Yup, to the Ace Attorney series soundtrack. It never gets old.

117. Do you like chicken noodle soup?

It taste good

118. Do you like Chinese food?

YES

119. Favourite book?

Jurassic Park and Project Maigo

120. Are you afraid of the dark?

Not anymore

121. Are you mean?

I can be

122. Is cheating ever okay?

HELL NO

123. Can you keep white shoes clean?

No

124. Do you believe in love at first sight?

No I don’t believe in that disney bullshit

125. Do you believe in true love?

Sometimes

126. Are you currently bored?

These questions are entertaining, but honestly I wanna play Pokemon Moon right now

127. What makes you happy?

Peace and quiet, talking to my friends, playing videogames, reading books, drawing, and anything Monster Hunter related

128. Would you change your name?

Maybe my last name

129. What your zodiac sign?

Taurus

130. Do you like subway?

Its okay, but I haven't been their in a long time

131. Your best friend of the opposite sex likes you, what do you do?

....Why are you doing this to me, tag meme?

132. LGBTQ+ right supporter?

YES

133. Favourite lyrics right now?

*shrugs*

134. Can you count to one million?

No, I would lose interest after 50

135. Dumbest lie you ever told?

“Yes, mom, this year I’m going to work hard.” (My lie was really similar to yours)

136. Do you sleep with your doors open or closed?

Closed. I don’t like staring at a dark hallway

137. How tall are you?

I’m 6'2"

138. Curly or Straight hair?

Curly

139. Brunette or Blonde?

Brunette

140. Summer or Winter?

Winter! I love the cold

141. Night or Day?

Night! I love the dark

142. Favourite month?

May

143. Are you a vegetarian?

No, I love meat too much

144. Dark, milk or white chocolate?

Milk chocolate

145. Tea or Coffee?

Coffee

146. Was today a good day?

It was okay

147. Mars or Snickers?

Snickers

148. What’s your favourite quote?

"Shoot, I'm so dumb as hell I'll never get hired in today's fast-paced world. I'm gonna go to my room and just wait for my body to die."

~ Meatwad

(A quote that I relate to a lot)

149. Do you believe in ghosts?

No

150. Get the closest book next to you, open it somewhere, what’s the first line

The closest book near me is a skecthbook so nope

I won’t tag anyone since Its pretty long...wait actually I’ll tag one person >:D @yian-ruru

#tag meme #brachytalks

[tigrerramon]

Hey look @meetmyinnerdemons I finally did it ^^

1. Who was the last person you held hands with?

My mother. She likes to use me as a walking stick on our strolls.

2. Are you outgoing or shy?

I’m probably the shyest person you’ll ever meet tbh.

3. Who are you looking forward to seeing?

All of my friends! I love to be around them ^^

4. Are you easy to get along with?

I suppose so? After you’ll break trough my first inner wall, of course. And if you don’t mind keeping the conversation going by yourself pretty much all the time.

5. If you were drunk would the person you like take care of you?

The part about “person I like” confuses me a bit, but I don’t see any reason why anyone would take care of me anyhow, so I guess no.

6. What kind of people are you attracted to?

Either smarter, nicer and more outgoing than I am (which are actually rather easy to find ^^’) or nerds and losers as miserable as me (which are a lil’ bit more difficult to spot XP).

7. Do you think you’ll be in a relationship two months from now?

Bwahahahahaha!!! X’DDD

...Oh wait, you were asking seriously?

8. Who from the opposite gender is on your mind?

Sherlock Holmes and doctor Watson, but they’re on my mind 24/7. As for real people... no one.

9. Does talking about sex make you uncomfortable?

Yup, actually. What do you know, I have the mind and maturity of an 8-year-old, of course I’m going to be uncomfortable.

10. Who was the last person you had a deep conversation with?

My mother, I think.

11. What does the most recent text that you sent say?

“Good night (^^)/”

12. What are your 5 favorite songs right now?

In no particular order:

Zinogre Theme [Intense Symphonic Metal Cover] by FalKKonE

Adrenalize by In This Moment 

Dear You -Cry- by Yuduki (the original and -Hope- versions could’ve also been there, but I decided to put this one on the list, since it’s probably my fave Dear You so far)

Magia by Kalafina

Lone Digger by Caravan Palace (DON’T JUDGE MEEEEEEEEE)

13. Do you like it when people play with your hair?

I kind of don’t have a choice X’D Really tho, I don’t mind.

14. Do you believe in luck and miracles?

If the fact that I’m still alive and well doesn’t prove it’s existence, then I don’t know what does X’D

15. What good thing happened this summer?

Asagao Academy: Normal Boots Club and Monser Hunter Generations were probably the best things to happen.

16. Would you kiss the last person you kissed again?

You mean, to never kiss anyone? Sure, why not.

17. Do you think there is life on other planets?

Maybe, maybe not. I don’t have much hope for that tho.

18. Do you still talk to your first crush?

I was never talking to them in the first place, so X’D

19. Do you like bubble baths?

Waste of my precious time and water. I prefer quick showers.

20. Do you like your neighbors?

I don’t even know them.

21. What are you bad habits?

Fiddling with my hair and fingers, talking to myself, leaving dirty dishes in my room/sink, tapping my foot on the floor, drumming my fingers, biting at my nails, dozing off at random, giggling for no fucking reason in the middle of the conversation, procrastinating...

22. Where would you like to travel?

Either Scandinavia or Canada. Maybe Australia too.

23. Do you have trust issues?

I’m way too trusting, if anything. Does that count?

24. Favorite part of your daily routine?

Coming back from dinner, laying down in my bed and checking YouTube/Tumblr/Facebook/Twitter/whatever.

25. What part of your body are you most uncomfortable with?

All of it, but if I had to choose, I’d say belly =,=

26. What do you do when you wake up?

I used to check Tumblr notifications when my mobile was still working, now I just kind of... Lay there... Trying to get to my senses.

27. Do you wish your skin was lighter or darker?

I’m perfectly comfortable with the tone of my skin, thank you very much.

28. Who are you most comfortable around?

My father and one of my childhood friends - the only one that hadn’t leave me behind (^^)/

29. Have any of your ex’s told you they regret breaking up?

I’ve never been in a relationship, and I don’t think that I ever will.

30. Do you ever want to get married?

Not really, no.

31. If your hair long enough for a pony tail?

Ya bet!

(ps. Why is there an “if” in the beggining of the question?)

32. Which celebrities would you have a threesome with?

None =)

33. Spell your name with your chin.

WQjkkjtrlkrfdjkaZ - welp, close enough XD

34. Do you play sports? What sports?

Nope, sorry. I’m a lazy fatass wasting my whole life on the couch.

35. Would you rather live without TV or music?

TV, easly. I’ve stopped watching it three years ago anyway.

36. Have you ever liked someone and never told them?

Oh, if it was only once...

37. What do you say during awkward silences?

I try not to speak in those situations, but I often start blushing and giggling uncontrollably against my will.

38. Describe your dream girl/guy?

They truly love me and want to be with me no matter what. This is pretty much my only requirement. For extra flavor, they might also be intelligent and patient with me.

39. What are your favorite stores to shop in?

Empik and other bookstores. ‘Cause we’re talking shopping, like, in the broad sense, right? Right?

40. What do you want to do after high school?

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA-

41. Do you believe everyone deserves a second chance?

Of course!

42. If you’re being extremely quiet what does it mean?

Being extremely quiet is pretty much my natural state, but if you mean exeptionally quiet even for my standards, then it means that my anxiety and self loathing are probably stiking back. Or I’m just in a bad mood/overwhelmed and need a moment. One of the two.

43. Do you smile at strangers?

Sometimes, if they strike me as nice.

44. Trip to outer space or bottom of the ocean?

Outer space, it’s less claustrofobic. At least a little bit.

45. What makes you get out of bed in the morning?

Elementary sense of duty. That’s when I have school. At the weekends and breaks it’s usually the grotesque and outright GROSS nightmares that I have when I sleep for too long. Seriously, some of them work better than a gallon of thick, black coffee mixed with RedBull and a bag of sugar. Ugh.

46. What are you paranoid about?

Failure, making a fool out of myself, being ridiculed and made fun of, being used, all of my friends leaving me behind and forgetting about me, future in general...

47. Have you ever been high?

No.

48. Have you ever been drunk?

No.

49. Have you done anything recently that you hope nobody finds out about?

No, fortunately :D

50. What was the colour of the last hoodie you wore?

I’m wearing one right now, and it’s... *sigh* ...pink. I freakin’ hate it, but it’s just so comfy...

51. Ever wished you were someone else?

Oh hell yes, time and time again...

52. One thing you wish you could change about yourself?

E V E R Y T H I N G

53. Favourite makeup brand?

??? I don’t do makeup. Ever.

54. Favourite store?

Didn’t I answer this one already in point 39?

55. Favourite blog?

Piwnica Prezydenta Internetu (The President’s of the Internet Basement), Przyczajona Logika Ukryty Słownik (Crouching Logic Hidden Dictionary), Niezatapialna Armada Kolonasa Waazona (Kolonas Waazon’s Unsinkable Armada)

...But you don’t care about those, do you? No, of course not. You meant Tumblr blogs, didn’t you? Oh well. there are some good blogs on here too, like Sameshack, Skylordlysander, Maxa-postrophe, Zaby’s Mind and, of course, Adventures in Lurning.

(No I’m not going to tag any of this people I’m not crazy)

56. Favourite colour?

Still purple, still black.

57. Favourite food?

Four cheese pizza. I’m ready to kill and die for one at any time, anywhere.

58. Last thing you ate?

Haribo gummybears. Yummy~

59. First thing you ate this morning?

A homemade hot dog.

60. Ever won a competition? For what?

There was some sort of scientific contest in the elementary school? Something about nature and the enviorment, anyway. I’ve no idea how I did it, but I did.

61. Been suspended/expelled? For what?

Nnnnnope. I’m generally not a troublemaker.

62. Been arrested? For what?

Nnnnnope. I’m generally not a criminal.

63. Ever been in love?

Yeah, once. Although, when I look at it now, it seems more like a deep, intense, unhealthy fascination and obsession with a person rather than love... Poor guy.

64. Tell us the story of your first kiss?

There was none. The end.

65. Are you hungry right now?

I’m always hungry.

66. Do you like your tumblr friends more than your real friends?

No way!

67. Facebook or Twitter?

Facebook, even tho it’s a total mess.

68. Twitter or Tumblr?

Tumblr. You see, it’s an easy choice because I’m addicted

69. Are you watching tv right now?

Nope.

70. Names of your best friends?

Wiktoria is my bestest friend since elementary uwu And yes, we have the same name. Funny, isn’t it?

71. Craving something? What?

... Too far?

72. What colour are your towels?

Blue, yellow, pink, white and striped with a fuckton of others.

72. How many pillows do you sleep with?

Three, two big + one small.

73. Do you sleep with stuffed animals?

Not anymore.

74. How many stuffed animals do you think you have?

In my room there are four - a bear, a duck, a snake and a Pikachu. I used to have a lot more tho. They are still in the attic.

75. Favourite animal?

Owl, especially Eurasian Eagle Owl <3 Idk man, they’re just so cool~

76. What colour is your underwear?

Cream

77. Chocolate or Vanilla?

Vanilla. Chocolate is overrated.

78. Favourite ice cream flavour?

Cheesecake and lemon <3

79. What colour shirt are you wearing?

I’ve just changed, so now it’s red.

80. What colour pants?

Cream with blue and red patterns.

81. Favourite tv show?

Sherlock, South Park, Monty Python’s Flying Circus, Puella Magi Madoka Magica, Free!, Steven Universe, My Little Pony.... Oh, what? WHAT?!

82. Favourite movie?

Monty Python And The Holy Grail - say what you want about it, but it’s one of the few comedies on which I’m laughing trough the entire thing every time I watch it and I absolutely love it <3

83. Mean Girls or Mean Girls 2?

I’ve never watched any of those, sorry ^^’

84. Mean Girls or 21 Jump Street?

Never watched 21 Jump Street either.

85. Favourite character from Mean Girls?

Why the hell are you so obsessed with Mean Girls?!

86. Favourite character from Finding Nemo?

Gill was pretty cool, I guess.

87. First person you talked to today?

My mother.

88. Last person you talked to today?

My father. He made a margheritta candle for me from the leftover wax I hadn’t thrown out yet. No, really - the candle legitimately looks like a top of a marheritta pizza. Only it smells like orange, raspberry and vanilla...

89. Name a person you hate?

Every single person that was bullying me for the six years before I started high school. I know it’s petty, but I still hate every single one of those motherfuckers.

90. Name a person you love?

My parents, for starters.

91. Is there anyone you want to punch in the face right now?

The entire Mag publishing house for delaying Wings of Fire: The Dark Secret for another four months =,= It was supposed to be out almost half a year ago, dammit!

92. In a fight with someone?

No, fortunatelly. I hate fighting. (AndI’m not very good at it either XD)

93. How many sweatpants do you have?

Around 6, I believe.

94. How many sweaters/hoodies do you have?

9 or 10.

95. Last movie you watched?

Harry Potter and The Deadly Hollows, pt. 1 - I haven’t watched it all the way trough, however. At one point my parents has thrown me out of the room, because I was constantly comparing it to the original, explaining background and unintentionally spoiling later scenes XD Don’t watch adaptations of things that I like with me. Ever.

96. Favourite actress?

I don’t have one.

97. Favourite actor?

I don’t have one either ^^’

98. Do you tan a lot?

Not really. I just burn, usually.

99. Have any pets?

A lovely dog and a small pack of chickens, whih I consider to be pets too <3

100. How are you feeling?

Mostly relaxed, although kind of tense. Better than yesterday, at least.

101. Do you type fast?

Fast enough not to drive pepole that I text with insane.

102. Do you regret anything from your past?

*breaths in*

B O I

103. Can you spell well?

Well enough, but I still make stupid mistakes every now and then.

104. Do you miss anyone from your past?

My cousins, best friend from childhood and one particular friend from elementary/middle school.

105. Ever been to a bonfire party?

Yep, yep, yep!

106. Ever broken someone’s heart?

Never!

107. Have you ever been on a horse?

Yeah, and I still remember some of the basics of riding it ^^

108. What should you be doing?

Getting pissed at Mofftiss while watching The Final Problem, but ehhh... I’m kinda scared ;^;

109. Is something irritating you right now?

My father flashing a flashlight right into my eyes trough my room’s window. He’s just an asshole like that.

110. Have you ever liked someone so much it hurt?

Yeah, once or twice.

111. Writing or drawing?

I hardly do any of those anymore, but I’ve always felt more confident with writing.

112. Who was the last person you cried in front of?

Oh my, uh... I think it would be my entire fucking polish group at school. This was probably the most embarassing thing that I did this school year...

113. What was your childhood nickname?

I didn’t really have any? ;^; Everyone was always calling my by my real name.

114. Have you ever been out of your province/state?

Yeah, pretty much every year since I was eight.

115. Do you play the Wii?

No, sadly ;^; I’d love to try it someday tho, I’ve heard that it had some good games.

116. Are you listening to music right now?

Yup, to the Ace Attorney series soundtrack. It never gets old.

117. Do you like chicken noodle soup?

A lot.

118. Do you like Chinese food?

I like the noodles, but I don’t think that I’ve ever tried anything else? I probably should...

119. Favourite book?

Gaaaah, so many to choose from! Uh, um... Jurassic Park? It’s nostalgic at least ;^;

120. Are you afraid of the dark?

A little bit, especially if I’m not at home.

121. Are you mean?

Way more that I would like to be.

122. Is cheating ever okay?

Nope.

123. Can you keep white shoes clean?

Not to save my life X’D I have a peculiar talent to get dirty all the goddamn time.

124. Do you believe in love at first sight?

No way in hell. It’s weak, stupid, unrealistic, juvenile and lazy.

125. Do you believe in true love?

Absolutely. I’ll most likely never find it, but I know that there are people who did.

126. Are you currently bored?

And why do you think I’m answering those questions?

127. What makes you happy?

Peace and quiet at home, my friends giving me some of their precious time anywhere at any time.

128. Would you change your name?

Why would I? It’s not that bad. My surname is way worse.

129. What your zodiac sign?

Virgo

130. Do you like subway?

Never was in any. If you’re talking about the restaurant tho... Nnnnope, still wasn’t in any. Oh well.

131. Your best friend of the opposite sex likes you, what do you do?

Pretend that I don’t know and nothing has happened, while simultaneously screaming and absolutely panicking on the inside.

132. LGBTQ+ right supporter?

YES, DEFINITELY!

133. Favourite lyrics right now?

The crowd wears a dress of hypocrisy

Am I decieving?

Am I being decieved?

Does it even have any...

...impact on the future?

(Jekyll & Hyde - Hatsune Miku and IA)

134. Can you count to one million?

If I was really, really bored, then I think I could.

135. Dumbest lie you ever told?

“Yes, mom, this year I’m going to work hard.”

136. Do you sleep with your doors open or closed?

Closed. I don’t want my dog to get in in the middle of the night and wake me up (and believe me, he does that).

137. How tall are you?

About 170 cm.

138. Curly or Straight hair?

Straight, it’s easier to take care of.

139. Brunette or Blonde?

Indifferent, but let’s say brunette.

140. Summer or Winter?

Summer! I don’t have to do anything!

141. Night or Day?

Night. I love to sleep.

142. Favourite month?

July - the holidays has just begun and I have the time for literally everything <3

143. Are you a vegetarian?

No, I love my meat way too much <3

144. Dark, milk or white chocolate?

White, even tho it technically isn’t even chocolate anymore.

145. Tea or Coffee?

Tea. I can drink it anytime I want without consequences.

146. Was today a good day?

It was okay.

147. Mars or Snickers?

Mars, I hate the nuts getting between my teeth =,=

148. What’s your favourite quote?

It varies, but in this very moment, I think that this one speaks to me the most:

Almost nobody dances sober, unless they happen to be insane.

~ H. P. Lovecraft

(Just try to guess what is my biggest problem right now)

149. Do you believe in ghosts?

No.

150. Get the closest book next to you, open it somewhere, what’s the first line

(Translating translation, sorry)

“Glory has leaped forward with bared teeth and catched the nearest spear.”

I still won’t tag anyone since I don’t want to get into people’s hair for no good reason

#this is oficially an ask meme account now #holy molly that was a lot of questions #but it was fun #morda tig

[kierantwo]

The world through their eyes, Kieran Weller

Chapter 1

Crashing, she was crashing. Crashing fast and forcefully. Her ship breaking apart, wires and metal ripping out of the framework and burning away into the nothingness of starry space. The sirens were blaring louder and louder stating the obvious to her again and again. This was not planned. She’d hit something, an asteroid? She didn’t know exactly what but whatever she had collided with destroyed her ship. She just wanted to get away from what she just endured. She couldn’t believe it. She didn’t even want to think about it. She didn’t have time to think about it.

As her blazing inferno began to spiral through space it sped through an asteroid belt. Millions of small rocks repeatedly thudded into the metal exterior, scratching and tearing away the casing surrounding her. The glass windscreen suddenly glared the message “SYSTEM SHEILDS OFFLINE. ENGINE FAILURE.” “Really? I hadn’t noticed.’ She thought angrily to herself. The message was suddenly cut off as a larger rock bombarded into the glass. Small shards of fine glass sprayed into her face.

Large cracks and intricate fractures spanned along the surface of the windscreen. They grew larger and larger as the engines increased speed. Sparks suddenly exploded from the ship’s controls as she desperately tried to take control again. Her fingers were bleeding and glass shards became snug inside her skin as she wrapped her aching hands tightly around the joystick.

There was no way she could control the ship as it plummeted into the starry abyss below her. The buttons on the control panel were all glaring in odd, crazed, unorthadox patterns. She looked at the fizzing, smoking controls and glanced at the ‘EMERGENCY’ box. She was never to use this under any circumstances… but it was an emergency, they couldn’t punish her for that, right?

She quickly clicked open the casing surrounding the red button labelled ‘Dimension Jump’. The button, originally a dull crimson, suddenly illuminated into a vivid scarlet. She contemplated whether or not to press the button. Where would she end up? It would be better than being burnt alive by the rapidly approaching star progressing closer and closer to her ship. Without a second thought she slammed her bleeding hand onto it and a glaring louder alarm screeched into the already hectic control room. The world around her began to blur, as if her perception were a water colour painting, being drowned in water. A blinding light in the horizon grew brighter and brighter as the ship got faster and faster. Then, silence enveloped her senses.

High pitched noises were ringing in her ears. She was seeing double, triple or maybe even quadruple. All she could see were the faint outlines of two large planets. Her small ship was drifting aimlessly towards the larger, more vividly blue and green planet. Her mind was blank. She wasn’t processing anything… she wasn’t even aware she was crashing to the surface of planet earth in a ball of fire.

-United Kingdom, Earth. Lily Richmond wasn’t your ordinary girl. Well, who is now adays. Lily had thick brown hair that flowed like a silky river from the top of her head to around the midsection of her shoulders. She wasn’t exactly a tall girl, but for 15 years old, she wasn’t short either. Lily had round hazel eyes, lined with a constellation of freckles just beneath them, the starry spread of freckles stretched from one cheek to the other. A round face encompassed these features.

Lily was all alone in her house, it was a Friday, the 21st November. One of her parents date nights, this week? Bowling. They had always left Lily on her own, because of her age she could be trusted, she’d already done all her homework. That was a first priority in Lily’s intelligent mind. Her friends were either bitching about people at her school or having sex with their partners. Yep… That describes them just about, thought Lily.

She was bored, completley out of her mind infact. Lily glanced at her bedroom clock. The blue numbers blinked "21:35”. She had her arms and legs stretched like a starfish across her bed. Nothing interesting ever really happened in Lily’s life, the most that would happen is maybe her parents would win bingo on one of their dates. Her life wasn’t interesting at all. Just school, food, sleep and tumblr. School was always a first for Lily, she didn’t want to dissapoint her parents you see. They were very… how to put it, expecting? The fear of her parents dissapointment in her drove Lily to the edge sometimes.

She had her whole life planned out, or rather her parents did. She was in secondary school, the last part of Year 10. Her parents had chosen everything for her. She may as well have just handed the options paper to them, Lily wanted to study art and Drama, she loved being creative and expressive. Her parents discared this and chose single sciences and Modern foreign languages instead. Lily hated them for that, she really did.

After secondary, she was going to go to college, all her courses would be chosen by her parents again. University was maybe the only chance she might have at freedom or self expression. She hoped so at least. One thing Lily’s parents hadn’t factored into her life was relationships, love or fun. It was a strict regime in the Richmond household.

As Lily laid on her bed, she sighed heavily. Hoping for someone or something to come and relieve her of this horrible boredom. She began to hear a rumbling, not a loud rumbling, but a rumbling increasing in volume. She sat up. “What the?” She asked herself. Lily lept off her bed and poked her head out her open bedroom window.

The night sky was black, dark and cold. Many stars were faint in the sky that night, her breath began to form a ghost like presence as she scanned the sky for the source of the rumbling. Her eyes darted across the inky black landscape, the forest behind her house outstretched and stretched upwards, as if they were yawning old men. The rumbling had now begun to grow louder and louder, her heart was beginning to thump against her chest. As if out of nowhere, through the darkness of the clouds covering the moon. A horrificly bright ball of furious fire sped uncontrollably towards her house. The oranges and reds flickered in contrast against the dark of night.

“Holy shit” She mumbled. She couldn’t stop looking at it, Lily knew she had to pull away and get to safety but it was so beautiful. The ball of fire, sooner than she thought it would, collided violently into her back garden. It smashed into an old oak tree standing proud in the mid back. The tree collapsed and began to fall to the ground. Wood scattering all around the garden.

The blazing ball of death that should have killed her, had now stopped burning. The fire deceased and smoke fizzled from the oval looking pod. “I’ve gotta check this out” Lily said, still somewhat in shock. Her body moved her quickly out of the house and into the backgarden. Horrible, thick black smoke drifted upwards from the pod in the large crater presumably made by the smoking wreck. Lily’s feet squelched in the mud surrounding the pod. The feeling was gross as the muck separated between her toes but she had to continue.

Timidly, she walked towards the hole in the ground. The unstable soil beneath her suddenly gave way and she slipped down to the pods resting place. Recouperating herself she glared at it in awe. It was a large oval, grey coloured, egg shaped veichle. It sparked and made very worrying noises. Towards the back of the egg veichle, there were panels of the exterior missing, exposing the inner mechanisms. Many wires and beams were melted and snapped. Lily looked at the front of the egg. The windscreen was shattered, revealing a female’s body of her height laid inside.

“Oh my fucking god!” She exclaimed in panic, without a second thought, Lily darted to the front of the veichle. She looked at the wreckage. “This is gonna hurt” She sighed. Lily climbed onto the free space on the exterior and got inside through the windscreen. Glass shards stuck into her foot. She winced in pain. The body was limp, but they looked like they were breathing. “That’s a good start” She smiled. “Hello? Can you hear me?” Lily asked, opening the body’s eyes. A spark in the background made her jump and poke the body in the eye. “Ow…” They almost silently moaned. “Can you hear me?” Lily asked again, she had begun to worry. “G-get out, I-it’s not safe” The body weakly protested. “My name is Lily, I’m not leaving without you” Lily protested, wrapping one of the body’s arms around her shoulder. “Lily please” The body coughed. Wincing in the immense pain they were feeling. “What’s your name” Lily asked, more sternly this time. “It’s Ava, M-my name is Ava” Ava stammered. “Okay Ava, let’s get out of here” Lily gasped, the air in the pod was thick and hard to inhale, as if it was alien.

Lily began to lift Ava up, onto her feet she pulled her to a standing position. Ava was coughing violently. The ship groaned. “This won’t hold for long, Lily get out now!” Ava exclaimed with all her strength. The ship had begun to groan even louder. It seemed like it would collapse and crush them at any point. “Ava be quiet okay? Hold onto me” Lily stated. She began to drag herself and Ava to the opening made by the cracked windshield. “Can you try and pull yourself up to there?” Lily asked, gasping and hoping to get clean air soon. Ava let go of Lily and held onto the way to freedom. She exclaimed in pain as glass dug into her skin. “There we go, just a bit further” Lily smiled with a sigh of relief. She pushed Ava up as much as she could. Ava’s bruised and bloody body crawled up out of the vehicle and she flopped into the muddy earth. Lily hauled herself up to the surface as the ship gave it’s last groan of life.

“LILY! QUICKLY!” Ava cried in shock. As Lily clambered out of the sparking wreckage, she saw the entire framework begin to join back together. The metal that was missing grew and sprung back into place. The glass reformed into a barrier and the smoke stopped. The entire ship looked almost brand new. “I-its fixed itself?” Lily asked in confusion. “Lily get back, it fixed itself so it can return home. They’re going to find me again…” Ava pleaded. Lily did as she was told and crawled back into Ava’s embrace. The ship roared into life, bright blue flames exploded from the engines. It hovered up out of the crater and spun around. In a blink of an eye, it sped up and soared out of the atmosphere, leaving Ava and Lily alone together in the darkness on that cold Friday night.

Ava coughed. It broke the silence between them. Lily looked at Ava in worry. Ava’s breath was raspy and uneven. Lily didn’t know what to say to her.

“Are you okay?” Lily finally asked. Ava didn’t give a reply, only a sorrowful look.

Ava looked different, different to you and I. She had a human figure and complexion except, where a girl of her age would have deep eyebags, Ava had a beautiful galaxy of stars and stardust in purples and teals. Once Lily had noticed this, it was all she could look at. Ava’s eyes were out of this world. Lily’s heart nearly melted looking at them.

“I just realised how bloody you are… Come inside and I’ll help you clean yourself up, does that sound okay?” Lily asked, placing a comforting hand on Ava’s shaking leg. Ava nodded and went back into Lily’s house. She helped her up the stairs and into the bathroom. The bright lights and cleanliness of the white tiles almost blinded Ava as she walked into the bathroom. Lily held her hand and helped her down onto the closed toilet seat.

Ava had remained silent. “Let’s get the big question out of the way” Lily sighed, standing in front of the medicine cabinet next to the shower. She opened it and began searching for the antibacterial wipes. “You’re from space?” Lily asked, popping her head out from the cabinets open door. Ava nodded at this question. “Right okay. You’re alien?” “…kind of. It’s hard to describe. I don’t really want to describe it. It’s glamorous and beautiful where I’m from, but It felt like a prison.” Lily nodded. “I can relate to that” She sighed. “My species is actually of human origin. We descended from you” Ava replied. “So I’m like your great great great gre-” “Technically no, but I guess we are biologically linked somehow? But it’s so distant you wouldn’t even see it” Ava smiled, cutting Lily off. “I’m the princess of my planet.” Ava mumbled. “Wait what?” Lily asked, unsure of what she just heard. “Yep. I’m a princess. Royalty. About to become queen actually… I had to escape. I, I don’t know how to explain this. My planet doesn’t accept it. How could they accept their new queen if she was, ‘one of them’.” She sighed, her breathing had began faltering again. Lily picked up on this and sat next to her, perched on the white sink. “It’s okay Ava, you don’t have to say it if you don’t want to” Lily smiled. In her hands were the wipes. Ava looked down at them in confusion and fear. “What is that.” “It’s a thing that’ll clear away the blood” “Will it hurt?” “…it’ll sting, but it’s necessary, squeeze my hand if you need to” Lily replied. Ava, almost too quickly, grabbed Lily’s hand. Lily smiled at Ava… glad she held her hand. Lily began to dab away at the blood, clearing Ava’s skin of the crimson mess. “Ow” Ava winced. “Nearly there” Lily smiled, she finished and put the box back where she found it.

There was an awkward silence in the room as Lily cleaned up Ava. They spent a good hour in there sorting themselves out. “Tell me about yourself.” Ava said. “Uh… My name is Lily Richmond, I’m 15, hella gay and my parents are too controlling.” She smiled, cleaning muck out of Ava’s perfect nails. “My name is Ava Darstory, I’m 15, also hella gay and my parents are way too controlling.” Ava smiled, Lily looked up at her. She began to sweat nervously.

“I mean, I’m straight?” She nervously laughed. “Why?” “Why, what?” “Why did you run away?” “…You have to marry a prince to become Queen. It’s not like I even want to be Queen? You rule together as King and Queen and make children to be the next heirs to the throne, and the cycle continues” “Ah. I see the problem there.” “Yep. My parents found out and… well that was an interesting argument, that got published in the news.” “FUTURE QUEEN’S SEXUALITY SCANDAL????” She mimicked big letters and actions. Lily hugged Ava tightly. “That must have been fucking horrible” Lily sighed, almost wanting to cry. Ava had tears trickling down her face from this sudden kind embrace. “I stole a ship and flew away. Something hit me though. I began to crash, there were sparks and sirens everywhere. It’s still a blur. I remember hitting something and then it went white, after that I crashed.”

“You can crash…” Lily paused. “Bad choice of words… You can stay in my room if you want, my parents won’t mind… I’ll just say you’re a friend from school.” Lily smiled. Ava laughed and pointed at her eyes, “I’d love that, but this isn’t normal” “This wonderful thing called foundation exists Ava, it makes your shitty spotty oily skin look acceptable to society.”

“Sounds fun” She laughed. “Spending hours infront of a mirror plastering yourself with make up sounds fun to you?” She laughed, raising an eyebrow. “It’s better than anything at home. The most fun I got was when Archer came round and we’d…” Ava’s voice trailed off. “Who’s Archer?” “Archer? He’s the prince. There are many other princes on my planet but he was the best candidate. I was his best candidate. The day we found out, our friendship wasn’t the same.” Ava sighed, it was obvious to see that Ava missed Archer and her times she had with him.

“Does he know that you’re gay?” Lily asked “The whole bloody planet knows Lily… I can’t go back there” Ava mumbled. She stood up and wobbled slightly, Lily grabbed her hand and helped Ava regain balance.

“Thanks” She laughed. “Come on, let’s get you some sleep.”

#gay #lgbtaq #space #creative writing #writing #descriptive writing #or narrative? #narrative writing #hope you like it #gay space drama #my writing

[endoftheline72]

Untouchable Ch 1 - Repost for Tumblr.

She couldn’t decide whether it hurt more to breathe or to think.

Caitriona tried to take a deep breath and instantly answered her own question as a searing pain shot through her abdomen. She blinked and tried to focus. White. All white. Cold and, her brow wrinkled, a strange smell. Slowly her eyes began to focus, though the throbbing in her head didn’t make it any easier. She was still in the car. Some good news at least. The windscreen was entirely covered with snow. The airbag had deployed and the engine was off. Perhaps deciding in anger to drive from Seattle to New York, instead of flying with everyone else wasn’t her best idea. Her left leg was throbbing. Caitriona tried moving it but stopped instantly as a stab of pain raced from foot to knee, white hot in its intensity.

She let out a stifled scream, trying desperately to breathe, waiting for the pain to subside. Clearly moving was not an option. Gingerly she reached for the door, sucking in pained breaths as her sore body protested. The door was jammed shut. Terrific. She undid the seat belt and carefully leaned over. Her handbag was laying in the passenger  foot well, momentum having flung it there when she’d misjudged the corner and side slipped into a drift. Christ, it was cold.Fingers could just reach the edge of the long strap that had tangled itself around the handbrake. Tugging at it, she finally maneuvered the bag within reach. She scrummaged through the oversize bag, hunting for her phone. “Shit.” She held it up. Of course, no friggin service. She tried the key. The engine so dead it didn’t even pretend to roll over. “Well if this fucking day can get any worse, I’ll be surprised.” She closed her eyes, leaning against the headrest. What a hideous mess. She’d smiled through that damned convention despite the utter feelings of betrayal that were assaulting her from every possible side.

Him.

Her.

Both of them.

All of them.

No one was escaping without being hurt this time. Not Tony. Not Sam and most definitely, not her. It had started with her walking in on Tony with not one, but two press whores, one male and one female, in the shower of her hotel room and had ended with Sam telling her he loved her and kissing her in his hotel room. It was bad enough, she had to suffer through a very public event afterwards, seeing fans, smiling, being around both of them.  She’d barely managed. Camera’s she knew. Being on display she knew. So, she shut down, hit the automatic pilot button she’d developed in her modelling days and just gotten the job done. Getting on a plane with both of them, in a somewhat private setting was absolutely out of the question for her. She needed space. Time to think. Time to figure out what the fuck to do now. How the hell to get out of the mess she’d landed in.

Her head, like the rest of her body, was aching wickedly. Part hangover and part accident she figured, shivering as the cold began to seep into the air around her. She tried to move her leg again. Eyes clamped shut, immediately regretting the decision as agony ripped through her. She decided to focus on her breathing, willing the pain to stop. Moving was clearly not an option. Suddenly the car seemed to lurch, a sinister cracking heard through the snow caked windscreen. Caitriona was forced to grip the wheel and brace herself as her body fell forward. The nose of the car sloping down.

A cold burning made itself known around her feet, slowly working its way up her calf. Her heartbeat jumped at the sight. Water. Ice cold, frigid, deadly water. Now the panic began to set in. The water rising quickly, already half way up her shin. She shouldered the door again. It refused to move, even a little. She reached down, frantically searching, probing, trying to move the seat. If she could just slide it back, maybe she could get her leg out somehow. Bracing her good leg and taking a deep breath, she pushed, straining, willing the seat to move. She slumped forward after a few moments, panting in exertion.

The water began to lap the bend in her knee, her teeth already chattering. Her hands white, the blood being shunted inwards, her body’s natural response to the impending hypothermia. She tucked her damp hands underneath her armpits, trying to warm them, yelping when cold skin met warm, frantically trying to think what to do next. Another cracking sound heralded a change in angle, as the car slid further into the water. She was trapped. She tried the seat again with pressing urgency as the water crept higher, her thigh becoming wet with the icy water seeping into the car’s interior. Her heart was fairly pounding in her chest, panic rising just a steadily as the water. In desperation she shoved at the door, yelling, pushing, straining as the water continued to rise. Without warning tears began to course down her cheeks as the reality of the deadly situation began to set in.

Was this how she was going to die? Out here in the middle of nowhere? Alone? Drowned in icy water? By the time the water was lapping at her stomach, the cold and sheer panic had consumed her. Insidious frigidity was seeping into her mind, numbing it, enticing her to shut down, to calm, to relax. So much so, that the sound of the back window shattering and a cold blast of artic wind rushing through the cabin, barely even registered.

A deep male voice sounded beside her ear, “Can you hear me?” It said. Almost in slow motion she turned her head. Deep blue eyes, framed by a handsome face looked intently at her, “Can you tell me your name?”

“Caitriona.”

He smiled, neat white teeth and a gentle expression greeted her, “Alright, Caitriona. I’m Johnathon.” He glanced down at the water now half way up her chest then back to her face, “We need to get you out of here.”

“My leg..” She stuttered, her teeth chattering so badly it was difficult to form words.

“I know.” He said calmly, eyes locking with hers, “I’m going to move the back of the seat and then we are going to slide you out of here. Okay?” He began to shift, her hand gripped his arm, pulling him back. She tried to speak but the words were caught in her throat, hypothermia ceasing muscles and thoughts. His larger warm hand covered hers, “It’s alright. I won’t leave you. I’ll be right here. I just need to move this seat Caitriona.” He nodded at her and slid around. He knew he had minutes only to get this woman out of this car before it slipped the rest of the way into the lake, taking them both with it. He gripped the seat low down, his arms strongly objecting to being submerged in freezing water. Fingers searched until he found the weak joint in the seat mechanism. He’d seen it a hundred times in the road accidents he’d attended. Most seats failed at a particular point in many of the head-on collisions he’d been called to when he’d worked in rescue. He knew the weakness usually lay in the teeth mechanism that connected the seats together. If he could manage to move either one of them, changing the seat angle, that should be enough to try and slide the woman out. Bracing his feet against the base and gripping as low down as he could, almost putting his head under the water, he levered his body against the seat, muscles strained, his back arched as he pulled, shaking the chair back and forth, not stopping at her cries of shock and surprise. He couldn’t, there wasn’t time. It was now or never. He took a deep breath, the water covering his head as he knelt on the floor of the car and levered with all the force he could muster, straining the very fibre of every muscle group he had until, almost through sheer force of will the chair mechanism split. It didn’t sheer off completely but it moved. He hoped it was enough as he broke the surface, sucking in deep breath and shoving the back of the chair down. He reached over the back of the seat and grabbed her under the shoulders and tugged her backward. She screamed, but thankfully, her body came free and in a matter of seconds he had an arm around her waist and was dragging her across the back seat, bodily hauling her out the back window.

The wind hit her like a twenty-tonne truck, taking what little breath she had, icy fingers seeming to the seek out the very last vestige of anything that remotely resembled warm anywhere in her entire body. They both landed with a sodden thud on the iced surface of the lake. She’d have screamed if she’d had the breath for it, as it was she barely had time to think before she found herself being dragged across the ice. “Off the ice to the car.” He shouted over the wind and driving snow as they finally reached the shoreline.

Caitriona was really shaking now, uncontrollable and savage, her limbs ached, her head felt distant and light. She suddenly felt tired, so very tired. Arms slipped under her legs, a wave of confused dizziness washing over her as he hoisted her up, cradling her against him as he slogged through the knee-deep snow, face into the biting wind. Get her to the car. Get her warm. His mind was already working on what he needed to do next. He felt her relaxing, felt the grip of hyperthermia lulling her to sleep, to shut down, “Hey!” He yelled, jostling her, her head snapping back and heavy eyes opening, “Keep your eyes open Caitriona.”

“So tired..”

“Stay awake.” He urged as he struggled up the last drift, back to the road and thankfully a warm truck. Johnathon set her down, wedging her between his body and the car, taking her weight as he quickly opened the door. “Almost there now.” He spread a blanket across the seat then lifted her in as best he could. She screamed as her ankle twisted, pain chasing the sleep temporarily from her system. He wrapped her tightly in the blanket and shut the door. The truck was warm, having been left running, the heated seats and the warm interior air chased the chill from the air and she slumped back into the softness of it. Her head rolled back and she was vaguely aware that they were moving. She tried to focus, but her eyes refused to foloow any instruction her brain was giving, blurring and urging her to close them. Warm air was blowing in her face in stark contradiction to the cold she felt deep in her body. Dark brows knit in confusion, but try as she might, her mind refused clear. She just wanted to sleep.

“Hey,” A hand on her shoulder roused her, “Tell me your name again.” He needed to keep her talking, once she was in the cabin and warm, he’d let her sleep, but until then, “Come on.” He shook her harder, hard enough to cause her lidded eyes to open and shoot him an outrageous glare, “What’s your name?”

The eyes blinked slowly then cleared, “Caitriona.” Her voice wavered slightly, her teeth still chattering, her body still shaking with deadly hypothermic cold, “Caitriona Balfe.”

Johnathon’s focus turned back to the road, dodging drifts, straining to see in the growing dark and driving storm. The weather was worsening by the minute, with snow and wind this hard, there was no way the road would still be open. Returning to the cabin was the only real option. In any case, town was a four hour trip on a good weather day and there was no way that this woman, whoever she was, would make it that far, even with the gentle warmth of the car’s interior and shelter of a wrapped blanket. “Alright Caitriona, tell me about your family.” He flicked a glance at her, at least her eyes were still open.

Dark brows knit in confusion, “What?” Her fingers and toes were beginning to burn as they slowly warmed.

“Your family.” His voice was deep, soft and steady, “Tell me about them.” Keeping her talking would keep her conscious. Apart from the cold, her foot was clearly hurt badly. He wasn’t entirely sure it wasn’t broken, but the woman had been in a car wreck and he was concerned there could be other injuries not visibly obvious. He prompted and prodded, getting her to relate the names of her mother, father and siblings, what she did for a living, where she’d been driving to. Her answers had been clear and articulate, if not punctuated by spasms of uncontrollable shivering and more than a good amount of exasperation aimed solely had him, particularly when he’d asked about a husband, wife, boyfriend, girlfriend, partner and children. Then the answers had been coloured with varying degrees of anger, frustration, sadness and a distinct hint of none of your business.

She was an actress who had been travelling from Seattle to New York for work, her parents and family were in Ireland, she had no children and her boyfriend was in New York, though something about the way she reacted to that didn’t quite sit right. He suspected there was more to that story but wasn’t really in the mood nor the situation to care extensively about it.

“Where are we going?” She asked, breaking through his introspection as she exhaled deeply trying to stifle the shaking.

“Cabin. Not far now.” He pointed through the windscreen at a dark blurry shape not too far down the track or road or whatever it was that he was following. She squinted her eyes, she wasn’t even sure there was a road, though she could see the structure he was pointing to, “A place to get out this storm.”

She nodded, suddenly aware of the situation. Having deliberately taken the backroads to give herself more time to think, she now realised the price of that decision. She was in the middle of nowhere, and worse no one knew she was here. When she failed to arrive, yes, someone would raise the alarm, but she wasn’t due in New York until late tomorrow night and it was a long time between now and then. A long time for, she glanced at the man beside her, a long time for anything to happen to her.

He looked like a decent type of a guy, but isn’t that what they say about all serial killer types, they look like your normal everyday nice guy, except they kill people for kicks. Scenes from the movie Misery flashed through her mind and she fumbled in the damp shirt pocket. Shit, her mind cursed as her fingers closed around her phone, instantly feeling the icy wetness covering it. Hands trembling she pressed the button. Nothing. No light. No power. Nothing.

“No signal up here anyway.” Her head snapped to one side to find the most ocean blue eyes she’d ever seen watching her quietly, “but if you want to try, you can use mine if you know the numbers you need."

She accepted the phone, glanced at the screen then handed it back. No service. “There no landline? At this cabin? Either?”

“No phone, but this storm will blow itself out in a day or so and then its only 4 hours or so to town.” The car stopped moving, the headlights illuminating a bigger cabin than she’d been expecting, “Wait here in the warm. I’ll unlock and then come and get you.” He opened the door and several snowflakes blew in with the icy wind.

She watched as he leapt up the half a dozen or so in no more than two strides, disappearing from her view behind a solid wooden door. She glanced down at the keys, hanging in the ignition, the engine purring softly in the background. If she wanted to, escape would be easy right now. Apart from the fact that she didn’t really know exactly where she was, where the road was, where the town was and couldn’t reliably see more than two feet in front of her. Serial killer or not, she wasn’t going anywhere without his help. Another wracking series of shakes rattled through her bones, the phone slipped from her fingers, landing with a thud on the floor at her feet. She bent to retrieve it and immediately regretted it. She let out a strangled yelp and sat back. Definitely not going anywhere without his help.

The help returned presently, toting a second blanket. The door opened and a snow dusted blond head leaned over her, wrapping a second blanket around her shoulders, “Hold on to me.” She look a breath, steeling herself against the pain as strong arms slid under her knees and she was lifted from the car. She wrapped an arm around his neck, feeling the instant solidness of him, holding herself steady as he crossed the threshold, kicking the door shut and setting her gently down on the edge of the large bed. He knelt down at her feet, nodding towards her boots, “I’m going to try and get these off,” Blue eyes looked up at her, “It might hurt, but we need to get you warm and see what we’re dealing with here.” She nodded mutely and curled her fingers into the softness of the covers. He unzipped the side of her leather boot on the good ankle and slipped it off without a single sound.

The second boot was not as simple. “Almost there.” He murmured in sympathy, having heard the stifled gasps, yelps and at least one bitten off scream. She’d decided half way through the procedure to try and focus on something, anything other than the sharp stabs of pain running up her leg. He had strong shoulders, she observed, muscles clearly defined beneath the shirt, flexing and relaxing as he moved. His hands were large and warm, gentle in their strength as one gripped her calf. Gentle yet steady and sure. There was no hesitation or nervous shake in the grip, in his actions. He pulled the boot free. This time she did scream, white hot agony raced up her leg and fingers involuntarily gripped the covers, knuckles white with tension. The ankle had swollen to well over twice its size, her foot puffed and slightly red. The ankle joint itself had already started to turn shades of purple. It could well be broken, but with no real way to tell, at least not yet, all he could do was wrap it, keep it still until he could get her to town.

“Is it broken?” Her voice wavered and he looked up to see tears escaping the corners of her eyes.

“I’m not sure Caitriona.” He shot her an apologetic look, knowing how much these type of injuries could hurt, “What I am sure off,” He stood, “is that you need to get warm. Start by getting out of those wet clothes.” He untucked one edge of the blanket, “Can you do that by yourself?”

“Yes.” She nodded, not at all sure she could, but unwilling to strip off in front of a potential serial killer if she could help it. But he was right, while the uncontrollable shaking had eased, the occasional bone rattling shake still shivered through her body without warning.

“I’m going to go and get you something dry to put on.” He reached up and pulled a curtain from its ties near the head of the bed, “Try not to put any pressure on that ankle.” He flicked the curtain around the bed, leaving her sitting there, listening to his footstep recede.

With a great deal of awkward maneuvering, trying not to bend or topple over, her fingers white and stiff, she finally managed to wiggle out the jeans and underwear, covering herself with a blanket. She was starting on the sodden shirt buttons when she heard his footsteps followed by a grunt and a noise which she imagined was him depositing heavy bags onto the floor. Her assumption was further reinforced when she heard the unzipping of one of the cases. She had her shirt undone when his voice startled her. A long arm poked its way through the curtain, “Try these.” The hand tossed the clothing onto the head of the bed, then disappeared.

She smiled to herself, doubting that a serial killer would bother trying to avoid copping a glance at a semi naked woman. She looked down at bra clad chest and shrugged, especially since half the world had seen her naked on television. She reached over and inspected the pile of clothing. A large navy blue sweatshirt, that she was sure she could fit four of herself inside, and a pair of long grey sweatpants. Not a fashion statement to be sure, but they were dry and, she thumbed the soft fleecy material, should be warm enough. She flicked the long legs of the pants out and gingerly slipped them over her own legs, lifting her backside to pull them up, tying the drawstring in a bow before slipping the sweat shirt over her head, settling the soft folds around her. She sighed softly, it was utter bliss to be dry. She took a small breath, the clothes smelled clean and fresh and held with them the slight scent of men’s aftershave. She decided she liked it and took a deeper breath. A move she rapidly rethought as a sharp pain reasserted itself, stabbing her left side. She let out a yelp and closed her eyes.

“Everything okay?” a deep voice sounded from beyond the curtain. Blond brows knit a moment, then he shrugged, a decision made, he poked his head through the curtain. She was sitting very still, her hands clenched in the blanket. He moved to her side, concerned there had been greater injury than he first thought. Tossing three elastic bandages on the bed, he touched her shoulder, “Where is the pain Caitriona?” There was a gentleness to his voice, tinged with more than a hint of urgency.

She finally swallowed and opened her eyes, looking up into similar ocean blue ones. “My side.” Her voice wavered.

He crouched down, “Can you lift this shirt a little?” he asked quietly looking up with one brow raised in question. Sniffling back traitorous tears that threatened to fall, she nodded slowly, then gripping the bottom of the shirt lifted the edge, high enough for uncover her ribs, stopping just short of the underside of her breasts. His fingers were warm and gentle as they carefully probed her stomach and ribs. “Sorry,” He said, when he touched a particularly tender spot, “I don’t think there’s any real damage or breaks, but you’re going to be bruised and sore for a few days.” He reached for one of the bandages, “This will help, but it’s going to hurt for a bit.” He unfurled an arm’s length of bandage and knelt in front of her, “Put your hands on my shoulders,” He looked up and shot her an apologetic smile, “Squeeze as hard as you need to and try and keep breathing.”

His shoulders were broad, strong muscles sloping down from his neck. She gripped them hard as the bandage was applied, tighter than she was expecting. “Breathe Caitriona.” His movements were precise, quick and sure and Caitriona realised that he’d done this before. “All done.” He said softly, sliding the hem of the sweat shirt down but remaining kneeling and still, “Just breathe.” She focussed on the simple instruction a few moments until her grip relaxed with the gradually easing pain, “Better?” His voice was gentle, deep in its timbre and seemed to match those deep blue eyes perfectly.

“A little.” She was suddenly very aware of the warmth of the muscled flesh of his shoulders beneath her palms and immediately dropped her hands into her lap.

“Well,” He said standing up, “Sorry to be the bearer of more bad news, but we need to get you in bed.” He stopped a moment and flashed her a smile, “ Not what it sounds like but you know what I meant?”

She couldn’t help but smile, “I know what you meant.” She conceded and held out her hand, “Can you help me up first, I need to…” She hesitated then flicked a glance towards the bathroom.

“Oh right.” A slight flush of red coloured his neck, “Put your arms around my neck.” He bent over and waited until she was ready, then carefully lifted her behind the knees, carrying her to the bathroom and setting her down on the floor, letting her lean against the towel rail, “Let me know when you’re ready okay?” He slipped outside, closing the door behind him. He moved the fireplace and started to stack the kindling and logs, striking a single match, gently coaxing the flames into life. Next he moved to bed and flicked the covers down. He was about to set the pot on the stove, when he heard the bathroom door open.

It took a lot less time that he’d thought to get her settled. She’d endured the painful wrapping of her ankle bravely, and was now reclining, wrapped in several blankets, a warm mug of chicken soup in her hand, foot carefully elevated on a pillow, back propped against the headboard, listening to soft sound of the water running in the shower.

In the confusion of it all, Caitriona had completely forgotten that he’d been submerged in that cold water as well. He emerged a few minutes later, dressed in similar clothing to what she now was. They fitted his muscular form far better than hers. She studied him quietly over the rim of the mug. Tall. He was tall, taller than she was. Square shoulders, her eyes drifted down, strong back, narrow hips, long legs, all in all the perfect picture of a very attractive man. Not to mention, those eyes.

The object of her musings glanced her way. They were blue, deep blue like crystal water of a tropical ocean, darker than her own. “Pain easing off a bit?” He asked as he bent to feed another log into the gently crackling fire.

“Yes, some,” She responded as he straightened and walked towards the large bed she was comfortably ensconced in. Johnathon picked up a large grey blanket from long couch and with an efficient motion, flicked it open, letting it settle down over her body, carefully holding one corner and laying it ever so gently over her ankle, “Enough to be bearable at least.”

He seemed to consider this a moment, then moved to the stack of bags. He opened a smaller one, studied a small box a moment then walked to the kitchen area. The entire cabin was one large room consisting of a largish kitchen and dining area, a comfortable lounge and two easy chairs in front of a large open stone backed fireplace and a large raised platform that contain the massive bed she was resting in. He swung around, a long glass of water in his hand and return to the bedside. “Try this.” He offered her two oblong shaped capsules, “They aren’t very strong but will help some.” In truth, he wanted to give her something far stronger, but the only medication that would have the strength he needed would also have the unwanted side effect of making the taker excessively drowsy, something he was trying to avoid. The shivering had stopped and Johnathon was reasonably happy that she was warming slowly, gradually coming back to a normal thermic range. Still, he’d keep her awake for another few hours, then assess the situation again. “Thank you,” She said, swapping the cup of hot soup for the glass and pills, “I’ll take anything that might help at this point.” She swallowed the medication and took a long drink of water, handing back the empty glass and accepting the mug, “Thank you for the soup as well.” She took another mouthful, “It’s really good. Where did you get it from? All the way out here? I mean, the nearest town is …?”

“In good weather? 4 hours away,” He finished for her.

“Right, so you keep a stock here just for rescuing stranded drivers?”

Johnathon chuckled softly, a small smile crinkling the sides of his handsome mouth, “No. I made a pot full when I first got here.” He nodded towards the cup, “That is the last of it though.”

“What about you?” She glanced at the cup, suddenly feeling guilty at taking food from his mouth.

He shrugged, “She’ll be right. I’ll knock something up from the staples I always leave here.”

Caitriona’s brow knit and she cocked her head to one side, “Where are you from Johnathon?” He had an accent, similar strength to her own, but very different in both tone and lilt. It was easy to listen to and seemed to suit him perfectly. It was also different to anyone she’d ever met or heard, but she decided she liked it.

He smiled that smile again and Caitriona found herself smiling back, “Well,” He stood and walked toward a large wooden cupboard, “Definitely not from Ireland.” His deep voice held a cheeky note as he spoke over his shoulder, blue eyes meeting hers in silent accusation. He opened one door and standing on tiptoes, reached up and hoisted down yet another blanket.

“No. Not from Ireland, I know what that accent sounds like.” She met his gaze, raising her own cheeky eyebrow over the rim of the cup, “So?”

“Australia.” He said, leaning over her and putting the blanket over her shoulders.

“You’re a long way from home then?”

“A bit.” He straightened and moved to the window, leaning on strong arms and surveying the blizzard outside. “I could say the same about you Caitriona. There is a few thousand miles between Ireland and the US.” Johnathon turned, crossed his arms over his chest, leaning back against the sill.

She lifted her eyes to his, “Can I assume that ‘a bit’ means you don’t live here?” She glanced around the cabin. It was clear he didn’t and that had her wondering why he was here. It was also clear that he’d deflected her question.

“No.” His blond head shook, “Just a bit of a getaway that I visit now and again. I was on my way back to civilisation when I happened upon your car tracks.”

“Lucky for me,” She answered, swirling the last of the soup around the cup, “If you hadn’t come along, I’d be at the bottom of that lake with the car.”

He pushed off the sill and held out a hand, gesturing for the now empty cup, “As soon as the storm lets up, we’ll have to let your family know that you’re not in that car before they raise an alert and send someone out looking for you.”

She handed the cup over, “My phone was soaked, but it didn’t have a signal anyway. Does yours have service?”

"Nope, not in here anyway.” Johnathon wandered to the kitchen and started filling a stainless-steel kettle, “It does if I stand on the top of the hill out there,” He pointed at the window, currently completely white, snow flurries and wind occasionally rattling the panes.

“You can’t go out there.” She stated practically.

He smiled and took down two cups from their hooks, setting them on the counter, “Not at the moment, no.” Caitriona watched as he bent and fossicked around in the cupboard under the bench, “But I will when it’s not so hectic.” A large container and a spoon was dropped on the counter, “So if you can remember the numbers of your boyfriend and family, you can write a few texts and they will send the second I do manage to get service out there.” He spooned two large heaps of light brown powder into each cup, then added boiling water. He stirred each cup vigorously, then walked to the bedside and lowered one cup, one brow raised in silent question. The rich scent of chocolate wafted up into her senses as she gratefully accepted the cup, sniffing appreciatively at its contents. Johnathon dug into his back pocket and handed her his phone, “Texts will send quicker with less signal than trying to make a call, but if you’d rather, I can try and call it in to the local police and have them contact whoever you want.”

“I know the numbers I think,” She took a sip of the hot liquid, deliciously sweet and thick, “Texts will be fine.” More than fine, she had no real desire to actually verbally speak to Tony again yet, nor Sam, nor production. She’d send a text to them and to her family so if Johnathon, she turned her head and looked at him. He was sitting quietly in a chair, cup in one hand, a laptop propped on his knee. If he turned out to be the crazy serial killer type, they would at least know where she was and she guessed, he was right. The last thing she wanted was to worry her family and cause someone to have to be out in all this searching for her. She started with a text to each of her sisters, stopping periodically to drink the hot chocolate. “How long do you think we’ll be stuck here?” She queried, “I should tell them when to expect me.” She indicated the phone.

He paused, looking at the storm, clearly considering before answering, “I’ll have another look in the morning, but storms like this tend to blow themselves out in a day or two.”

“So,” She calculated, “Thursday sometime?”

“Start with that and if it changes,” He put the laptop on the table and stood, stretching slightly, “We’ll try and get the message through. Okay?” She nodded her agreeance, watching as he crossed to the kitchen and started digging around for more supplies she assumed. She flicked the screen of his phone, noting its plain background. No pictures of family or, she glanced over to see him put two pots on the stove, no significant other. Caitriona idly pondered that for a few moments, narrowing her gaze to his hand. No ring, and no marks where one should have been. Not that that was any indication, her mind warned. Many men didn’t wear rings and marriage wasn’t the only indicator of relationship status. She looked at her own hand, conspicuously devoid of any such adornment. That had never meant that she hadn’t been attached to someone. She shook her head, clearing the uncomfortable memories and set back to her task. Next came her mother and father, clear messages, short and sweet, similarly with production and her agents, all business and professional and then a simple, “Don’t worry. I’m fine,” to Sam and Tony alike. She pressed send for each of the messages, automatically queuing them. A long list of messages displayed on screen. A history of his texts. She couldn’t help herself, she ran a finger over the few messages he had stored there.

Most were to someone called Jackson Porter, various others to several police inspectors, detectives and, her eyebrow rose a little, special agents, FBI, CIA and MI6. Who was this man, James Bond? Should she be concerned? She flicked a nervous glance at her rescuer. It occurred to her that he hadn’t volunteered any information about himself, but had gotten her to spill details about her family, her job, her travel plans. The key question now became was this by design or by coincidence? Only one way to find out. “Johnathon?” Clear blue eyes looked up from packet he was currently studying, “What about your family? Won’t they be expecting you home? You said you were on your way when you found me.”

He leaned on the counter, “No one is expecting me anywhere, not now.” He shrugged, mentally wiping the reasons for that away, “I was on my way to New York to consult on a case there, so I’ll let them know I’ll be a few days late.”

“Consult on a case?”

‘That’s right.” He opened the packet and tipped it into one of the pots, “I consult with a few different law agencies occasionally to help them solve cases.”

That seemed to fit what she’d snooped up. “So you’re a detective, special agent or something?” She asked, finishing the cup of hot chocolate

He opened the freezer and pulled out several frozen items, “Something like that.” He smiled and began dumping the items into the pots, already gently starting to the steam.

“My father is, or was a police inspector in Ireland, he’s semi-retired now.” Caitriona offered, “actually,” She thought on that, “They only call him in now when they need him. But then again that could be their way of easing him out the door, he’s 65 now, should have probably retired years ago if you ask Mum. ”

Johnathon stirred one of the pots and added more water, putting the lid on and turning back to her, “Did your father specialise in any one area?”

“No. He was the inspector of a small village station.” She reached over and put the cup on the bedside table before leaning back against the headboard and readjusting the blanket around her shoulders, “What about you? Do you have a particular type of case you consult on?”

“Varies.” He answered honestly, “Missing people, serials, homicides, vice occasionally, cold cases generally.”

“What case am I keeping you from now? The one in New York I mean?” Caitriona asked as he poured what she though was rice into the second pot.

“You’re not keeping me from anything major,” He said with a gentle smile and wandered over to the chair and picked up the laptop, “It’s all right here.” A long finger tapped the screen, “A thirty year old cold case, a missing teenager.” He set the machine down on the coffee table and wandered to the bed, “Disappeared from a roadside outside of Vancouver, his mother lives in New York now,” Johnathon held out a hand, “Better que up a text to them.” She obligingly handed over the phone. He tapped out a few messages, pressed send and then dropped the phone onto the bedside table closest to her. “In case you need to send other messages,” He clarified in answer to her questioning look. Caitriona smiled at him, realising that he could have taken the phone, erased the messages and no one would be any the wiser. Instead he had allowed her to snoop and provided her with a convenient way to check her messages were still queued. That is not to say that he couldn’t delete them at the first opportunity when she wasn’t around, her untrusting mind sounded. Caitriona grimaced as a lingering cold shiver worked its way through her recovering body. “Still cold?” He asked, a concerned look flashed her way.

“No. I don’t know where that came from,” She tightened the blanket around her shoulders.

“Shock.” He commented, rising and putting another log in the crackling fire, “It’ll take a little while for your body to work through that,” He straightened, “But in the meantime, plenty of blankets and no sleeping for a while okay?”

“Alright.” She agreed amiably. A small silence fell between them, Caitriona leaned back against the headboard, watching as Johnathon moved quietly around the cabin, stacking bags into the corner, stirring the pots on the stove, stoking the fire, checking the windows, moving things from freezer to fridge, finally settling with long glass filled with ice and ginger ale, which had also been offered to her, minus the ice. He dropped into a large lounge chair, feet crossed at the ankles, laptop resting on his thighs. The dim white screen lit his face, clicking here and there, sipping on the drink. He was naturally quiet, Caitriona mused, comfortable with silence, not seeking to fill it with small talk or white noise, just content to let it be. She watched his blond brows draw together, squinting and leaning forward to study something on the screen. Whatever it was, he evidently found it disagreeable, shaking his head and with a click of finality, he leaned back. If he was a serial killer, he was the most attractive one she’d ever seen, in both looks and nature. She considered the phone, sitting on the table. Should she check? Did she need to? Probably not, but, she sighed softly, she’d trusted Tony and look where that had landed her.

She reached over and collected the device, flicking through the start screen. All the messages were still there, queued and waiting to be sent, along with the three more recent ones of Johnathon’s. She glanced between him and the phone. She normally wasn’t one to snoop, but this was far from normal circumstances. Mentally shrugging she flicked a fingertip over the messages. The first was to an Australian police detective telling them that Johnathon had would look into some case. The second was in reply to a real estate agent, the message having been sent almost a week ago, she looked over at her cabin mate who was still reading quietly. Why, she wondered, had it taken him over a week to reply, particularly when the reply consisted of exactly four words – no, sell it all. The last message was to Jackson Porter, telling him to make a start without him and to notify the local police that he’d found a woman named Caitriona Balfe in a car wreck. She took comfort in that message, confirming her thoughts that this man was indeed not a serial killer. They tended to not want to inform law enforcement of their plans. The serial killer in question had wandered over to the kitchen. A delicious smell, meaty, rich and strangely comforting, wafted from the pot he was stirring. Johnathon rapped the spoon on the side of the pot then turned and placed something Caitriona couldn’t quiet see into the oven beneath the cooktop. A particularly vicious gust of wind rattled the windows closest to her, the small flicks of snow and sleet hitting the glass with a muted tinging sound. Far from easing, the storm seemed to be increasing. Caitriona returned the phone to its resting place, “Do you think it’ll get much worse?”

“Tough to tell,” Johnathon commented, watching the trees outside bend and flex in the windy onslaught, “Certainly isn’t pleasant out there for sure.” He glanced at her, a worried expression washing over her attractive face, “Not to worry though, this cabin has been through worse storms with no worries at all.” The laptop chimed, drawing both their attention. Johnathon walked over and inspected the screen. It was low on power and he wandered over to the bed’s opposite side, dropped the machine onto the surface of the bed, then knelt, plugging in the charger into the wall socket. He stood for a moment, clearly thinking, then began pulling over a chair. He sat down, long legs rather uncomfortably tucked under the chair and pulled the laptop onto his thighs, concentrating on the documents on the screen. She smiled at his chivalrous antics.

The resident serial killer didn’t want to sit on the bed beside her while his laptop charged. She took the opportunity to quietly study him. Blond hair, combed neatly back, longer at the front, shorter at the back, following the contours of his skull. A small furrow in his brow as he concentrated, blue eyes, bright with a thoughtful intelligence, the light of the cabin casting a slight shadow on the high cheekbones and straight line of his nose, the grooves of the philtrum leading to his upper lip, the bottom fuller in the centre than the top. A large hand lifted, long fingers idly scratched his chin, the dark blond stubble rasping softly in the still air. The fingers folded into a fist that tucked against his cheek, leaning on it as he continued to read. She followed the lines of his neck, his adams apple, bobbing as he swallowed, neck muscles strong and defined, sloping down to his shoulders. He was certainly extremely attractive, she reflected, swallowing and laying a hand on her stomach, a warm feeling tingling just below the surface of her skin. He ruggedly handsome in a totally different way to the carefully sculptured, trimmed and manicured look that frequently surrounded her. She almost laughed out loud as her mind compared the look of her rescuer to man she currently assigned in her mind as her significant other. Tony, with skin whiter than her own, dark hair always looking unruly, left far too long, smaller in frame and height.

Though, her mind added, she strongly doubted that Tony would ever have been seemingly content wearing trace pants and sweatshirt in anyone’s company, even a stranger. No, he would have worn a designer shirt and pressed pants, a precise example of a urban business man with an ex model come actress as a significant other. That wasn’t necessarily a bad thing, she guessed. It was almost a prerequisite he dress that way given her profession. In fact, it had come in handy more than once since Outlander had started to gain traction. There had been plenty of press the flesh and “networking” dinners, lunches and cocktail parties to attend along with an assortment of press junkets and TV talkshow appearances. She’d been glad of a friendly face and Tony had fitted in well with the meet and greet crowd. He had proven to be an excellent plus one, seemingly happy to spend hours small talking with complete strangers. While she made connections with directors, network heads and other actors, he connected with people who were cashed up and always looking to invest in someone or something.

Not a bad situation for a man trying to start a bar and club franchise in greater London. She thought on that for a moment. Was that all their relationship was? No, surely, it had to be more than that. Afterall, Tony was a friend, a good one. He never argued about her decisions. They liked similar things and while the sex, what little of it there had been, hadn’t been earth shattering, it hadn’t been completely disastrous either. They weren’t highly affectionate, but that suited her. She lived in her apartment, he lived in his. The romantic side of her brain told her it wasn’t an ideal situation or the fairy-tale that everyone hopes for. Though, her mind warned, any situation would have been better than LA. That cruel deception had almost broken her and she was determined to never go there again.

Ever.

That is precisely why the shower scene she’d walked into in Seattle had triggered a response. Caitriona closed her eyes and leaned her head against the headboard. She’d run. Run because she’d been afraid. Terrified. Not of a relationship ending. Terrified that she fallen into the same trap and had allowed someone else to deceived her so very badly again. Despite all her safe guards, all her promises to herself, all the rules she now followed, was it happening again? Everyone knew that lightening never struck twice.

No, the common thread was her.

Was she partly to blame for the whole mess she found herself in? Her occupation, her choices, her rules, her past? Was he only that way because of her? In a relationship that really wasn’t a relationship and more of an agreement between friends of mutual advantage? She sighed out loud as that realisation set in.

The answers were all yes and the thought of that suddenly made her feel cold, a reflective shiver passing through her.

Cold and very, very alone.

“Caitriona?” His deep voice sounded like warm liquid honey, trickling down her spine and into her hearing, not altogether unpleasant.

Blue eyes opened to regard him, “It’s alright Johnathon. Not asleep. Just thinking.” Should he ask? Not really his business, but, he could see that shadow. The shadow of sadness lurking back there in the clear pools of blue.

Not his business he reminded himself then leaned forward and lifted the laptop on the bed, “Just a few more hours then you can sleep a bit.” He stood and walked over to the oven, pulling the large glass open. The warm smell of freshly baked bread wafted out, and Johnathon placed a small loaf on a wooden cutting board. He turned then and pulled out two bowls, spooning steaming rice into one of the bowls, then covering it with a delicious smelling thick beef. Not bad for a freezer meal and ready to cook bread, he mused, infinitely glad that he’d cooked double earlier in the week and left half in the freezer. He looked up at her, “Would you like some?”

“No thankyou. I don’t eat red meat or gluten. ”

“Don’t or can’t?” He queried, cutting two thick slices of the bread and sitting them on the edge of the bowl.

“Don’t.” She watched as he walked back to the bed, sat down quietly and began eating with definite intent.

“You don’t know what you’re missing.” He commented around a mouthful of food, a half grin of his face, “Sure I can’t tempt you?” He offered her the bowl, one eyebrow raised.

“No thanks,” She smiled softly at him, privately thinking that the meal did indeed smell and look delicious, “Besides, I just finished soup and hot chocolate. I’m full.”

“Is your appetite down or that’s about normal?” He balanced the bowl on his knees then attacked its contents with enthusiasm, running the crust of the bread around the bowl sopping up the last of the stew.

“About normal after a day like today.”

He nodded then stood, refilled the bowl, “It has been a bit of day,” Caitriona watched with muted amazement as he polished off the second bowl and started on the third as he leaned on the counter, “Could have been worse though.” He emptied the bowl and started decanting the leftovers into containers.

She thought about that while she watched him tidying up. What would her family have done? What would Tony had done? Would they have even missed her? Would she ever have been found? The not knowing would have driver her father insane. Her family would have mourned her, of that she was certain. Tony? She honestly didn’t know. He would have publicly made all the moves , but privately, she didn’t know how he’d really feel. Move on to better things most likely. She could have laid there in the bottom of that lake for years. An icy death, alone. Lost even in death to her family.

“How close Johnathon?” She asked quietly. He looked over at her, one eyebrow raised in question, soapy suds dripping down his forearms, hitting the dishwater in large drops. “At the lake. How close was it? How much time did I have if you didn’t happen by?”

“As long as you needed I reckon.” He said cryptically then turned back to the sink and finished off the pot setting it dry.

“What do you mean?”

“I’ve seen a lot of close calls. I worked in emergency rescue for a bit,” He commented wiping his hands on a tea towel then coming to resume his seat beside the bed, “ You’d be surprised what strength people find when they are fighting to live.” Blue eyes focused on hers, “And you were fighting. That’s all that matters really.”

“Sounds to me like you’re down playing the role you had in all this,” She held his gaze, half intrigued by his personality and half wanting to just keep him talking to hear his voice, “We both know that door wasn’t opening anytime soon and without you, I couldn’t have gotten the seat belt off. So, how long did I have really?”

“Not long.” The deep voice was soft and gentle and matched the steady gaze, “Five minutes maybe.”

“Five minutes.” She blinked and swallowed, dropping her gaze as the thought of how close she’d really come to dying hit her. Five minutes and she’d have been no more. Her eyes closed, a lone tear escaping from beneath long lashes and trickled down her cheek. Five minutes, not time enough for a coffee. A warm hand curled around her wrist, “Hey, it doesn’t matter if it was five minutes or five hundred minutes.” the strong fingers tightened, “Car is at the bottom of the lake, you’re not.”

She opened her eyes to study his, “Thanks to you.” She said quietly.

He leaned back and shrugged, “Thanks to poorly designed seats and an application of suitable force.”

“Suitable force originating from?” She challenged gently.

“From a simple physical lever system.”

She laughed softly, “A lever system? Called Johnathon?”

He flashed her a lopsided grin, the corner of his mouth making a small dimple in his cheek, “Called it doesn’t matter because it all worked out.”

“That must be awkward to write when you’re filling out forms.”

He smiled broadly at that, finding the intelligent humour behind it intriguing, “Only when I have to fill them out in triplicate.”

Caitriona laughed and conceded defeat. He wasn’t going to accept what she understood all too well he had done.

Johnathon Chase had just saved her life.

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AO3 http://archiveofourown.org/works/10919163/chapters/24283398

#untouchable #outlanderrpf