#there was barelt ever a second of doubt

[designation-miracle]

thinking abt how the second hinami thought abt how she couldn’t function around pretty girls and then was like or pretty boys and i sent an anonymous ask in that was like “HINAMI BI??” yes, me over a year ago. hinami bi.

#i remembered that i did this recently and i think about it often #kasamatsu hinami #there was barelt ever a second of doubt #i was only like is she?? in i believe it was chapter 6?? with the homophobic fiance #and it was only for w second i am a bi hinami truther unless shes not specifically bi

[writefasttalkevenfaster]

Rafael Barba / Not Ever

As requested by @azriealkane: 

Barba finding out his s/o has the same blood clotting in brain issue I do, it's dvst if interested, and him helping them deal with all the test, pain, and meds that go with that.. I'm having a really hard time and it would be nice to have a story to replay in my head to help me relax.. Sorry if it's not doable..

Really hope you feel better soon <333 I managed to whip this up last night, but it’s really bothering me that it’s not in the same format. 

Rafael Barba was never sure what to think of higher powers. Sure, he had been raised a devout Catholic by his parents, but considering the fact his father would come home from church each day and beat his mother, while she cried out for him to hide or run, he wasn’t sure how much faith he could put in the man upstairs. There were times he doubted his own faith, truly testing it against his against his own pessimism and pragmatisms. But after what he saw day in and day out, people’s lives ripped apart from one act of violence or another, he knew one thing for sure: true evil existed. And if one exists, the other did as well. Or so he’d like to believe.

That supposed truth became a little truer when he met you. A beam of sunshine in his perpetual drudgery and squalor, swimming in the depths of the debased and the depraved. A chance encounter in a coffee shop, when you paid for his drink as a way to pay it forward, only you left more than your money behind, but your scarf. So he waited for you the next day, your usual order in hand that he had asked the barista for, who had giving him a knowing wink, much to his bewilderment. And when you entered, you spotted him almost immediately, periwinkle scarf in hand and your order in the other. So instead of working on your screenplay as you had planned for that day, Rafael occupied your time instead with the most stimulating conversation you both had in weeks. And you would continue it, for weeks, over text, the phone, and even in person.  Suddenly, facing the evils of the world didn’t seem as damning, when he had you to come home to each night.

But what hadn’t occurred to him, was what happened when the evil permeated his very home?

You complained only of headaches at first. He had thought it was from using your laptop too much. With a tendency to turn your brightness all the way up for hours at a time, he had written off as merely that. So, he installed a program to adjust the lighting on your screen accordingly, brushing the problem aside. But it only seemed to worsen. Soon, the headaches were accompanied by nausea, and the nausea brought vision problems along with it. But the worst had yet to come. Rafael had been unaware of the extent of the problem, until he came into your shared apartment one night, calling out your name, only to hear a thud in response. Everything he held fell with a clatter, as he ran to the bathroom, to find you sobbing next to the toilet.

His heart sunk to his feet, as his eyes scanned for any sort of injury, but it seemed you had collapsed to the floor, your eyes fluttering open and shut. “Mi amor, darling, what’s wrong?” He pushed your hair back, tucking the locks behind you ears, before taking your face in his hands. This seemed to stir you from semi-conscious, as your eyes finally opened, meeting his own. “We need to get you to a hospital,” He tried to lift you to your feet, but you only shook your head, pulling Rafael back down.

Your head was still shaking “no.” “I just came from one,” The words were barelt a whisper, but it felt like a punch to the stomach. “It’s been getting worse, Rafael,”

For the first time in a long time, Rafael was afraid. Afraid to know, to ask, for the words to be said beyond the tip of his tongue, but his desire to know won out his fear. “What’s wrong?”

You sighed, as you moved up slowly, propping your back against the cool tile, so you could tell him properly, and you only smiled, “You look more terrified than I am, Raf.” You pressed a warm palm to his cheek. “It’s nothing, believe me. Nothing that will keep me down for long,”

“Y/N…please,” He pleaded with you, the words were too hard to ask a second time. He couldn’t. He couldn’t ask again.

“I have Dural Venous Sinus Thrombosis, or DVST,” You explained the condition, that it was a blood clotting issue in the brain. You were likely to survive and recover with treatment, but there were no cures or easy fixes. This was something the both of you would have to live with. “I know it won’t be easy,” And a tear slipped down your cheeks, and that, to Rafael, was more heartbreaking than your sobs, “and I won’t blame you if you want to leave me-“

Rafael rubbed his thumb against your cheek, breaking off your words, as he slowly pulled you into a kiss. And he tried to convey all of his emotions with it: sadness and anger; hope and fear; and most importantly, love. “We’ll get through this,” His warm words whispered against your lips were a promise to keep, a promise he would keep, God as his witness. The two of you would get through this, because surely as there is evil in this world, there was good. And you were his good, all of his good, and he wouldn’t let you go.

Not ever.

Tags list:  @rosathawne, @the-geekgoddes, @justpastthesecondstar, @anime-music-is-life, @snek-shit, @dreila03, @taylorhogle0510, @semperfi4015, @procrastdanation. @mwesterfeld1985, @neeadinghugs, @mypretty-weeper, @p-i-n-e-a-p-p-l-e-s,  @iworldlywriter, @aspiringyoungwriter, @supermoonpanda, @occamybarnes, @iammostdefinitelyonfire26 @laneygthememequeen, @meganlpie, @sweetsummertime99

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[writefasttalkevenfaster]

Hey I know your not doing asks but if you or someone you know could do me one on Barba finding out his s/o has the same blood clotting in brain issue I do, it's dvst if interested, and him helping them deal with all the test, pain, and meds that go with that.. I'm having a really hard time and it would be nice to have a story to replay in my head to help me relax.. Sorry if it's not doable..

Omg I’m so sorry!! I know you had reached out to me before and I hope you’re doing better! I’m in the middle of studying still, but I managed to whip this up now so I hope you enjoy

GIF Credit (sorry, Tumblr is being dumb). 

Rafael Barba was never sure what to think of higher powers. Sure, he had been raised a devout Catholic by his parents, but considering the fact his father would come home from church each day and beat his mother, while she cried out for him to hide or run, he wasn’t sure how much faith he could put in the man upstairs. There were times he doubted his own faith, truly testing it against his against his own pessimism and pragmatisms. But after what he saw day in and day out, people’s lives ripped apart from one act of violence or another, he knew one thing for sure: true evil existed. And if one exists, the other did as well. Or so he’d like to believe. 

That supposed truth became a little truer when he met you. A beam of sunshine in his perpetual drudgery and squalor, swimming in the depths of the debased and the depraved. A chance encounter in a coffee shop, when you paid for his drink as a way to pay it forward, only you left more than your money behind, but your scarf. So he waited for you the next day, your usual order in hand that he had asked the barista for, who had giving him a knowing wink, much to his bewilderment. And when you entered, you spotted him almost immediately, periwinkle scarf in hand and your order in the other. So instead of working on your screenplay as you had planned for that day, Rafael occupied your time instead with the most stimulating conversation you both had in weeks. And you would continue it, for weeks, over text, the phone, and even in person.  Suddenly, facing the evils of the world didn’t seem as damning, when he had you to come home to each night. 

But what hadn’t occurred to him, was what happened when the evil permeated his very home? 

You complained only of headaches at first. He had thought it was from using your laptop too much. With a tendency to turn your brightness all the way up for hours at a time, he had written off as merely that. So, he installed a program to adjust the lighting on your screen accordingly, brushing the problem aside. But it only seemed to worsen. Soon, the headaches were accompanied by nausea, and the nausea brought vision problems along with it. But the worst had yet to come. Rafael had been unaware of the extent of the problem, until he came into your shared apartment one night, calling out your name, only to hear a thud in response. Everything he held fell with a clatter, as he ran to the bathroom, to find you sobbing next to the toilet. 

His heart sunk to his feet, as his eyes scanned for any sort of injury, but it seemed you had collapsed to the floor, your eyes fluttering open and shut. “Mi amor, darling, what’s wrong?” He pushed your hair back, tucking the locks behind you ears, before taking your face in his hands. This seemed to stir you from semi-conscious, as your eyes finally opened, meeting his own. “We need to get you to a hospital,” He tried to lift you to your feet, but you only shook your head, pulling Rafael back down. 

Your head was still shaking “no.” “I just came from one,” The words were barelt a whisper, but it felt like a punch to the stomach. “It’s been getting worse, Rafael,” 

For the first time in a long time, Rafael was afraid. Afraid to know, to ask, for the words to be said beyond the tip of his tongue, but his desire to know won out his fear. “What’s wrong?” 

You sighed, as you moved up slowly, propping your back against the cool tile, so you could tell him properly, and you only smiled, “You look more terrified than I am, Raf.” You pressed a warm palm to his cheek. “It’s nothing, believe me. Nothing that will keep me down for long,” 

“Y/N…please,” He pleaded with you, the words were too hard to ask a second time. He couldn’t. He couldn’t ask again. 

“I have Dural Venous Sinus Thrombosis, or DVST,” You explained the condition, that it was a blood clotting issue in the brain. You were likely to survive and recover with treatment, but there were no cures or easy fixes. This was something the both of you would have to live with. “I know it won’t be easy,” And a tear slipped down your cheeks, and that, to Rafael, was more heartbreaking than your sobs, “and I won’t blame you if you want to leave me-“ 

Rafael rubbed his thumb against your cheek, breaking off your words, as he slowly pulled you into a kiss. And he tried to convey all of his emotions with it: sadness and anger; hope and fear; and most importantly, love. “We’ll get through this,” His warm words whispered against your lips were a promise to keep, a promise he would keep, God as his witness. The two of you would get through this, because surely as there is evil in this world, there was good. And you were his good, all of his good, and he wouldn’t let you go. 

Not ever.

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