#And no. I’m not telling you what the K.E stands for >:)))

[ekster--exotic]

Doctor Midas’ Disquisition: Prolegomenon

   As seen to on the night of October 17th, 2024, at 20:40, I acquired a specimen of large interest. (Now known to me as the Lepirkian race.)

    It was a swift procedure of obtainment: I simply followed the target to a secluded space, then aimed a taser at his neck. (I’ve found that Lepirkians are easily incapacitated by electricity. Individual was unconscious almost instantly.) I approached with stealth and speed, however I was still detected by the specimen. His reaction time was impressive, but I was faster. (This is most likely due to the individual’s plumose antennae, which sense vibrations in the air. Further research have yet to be conducted on this attribute.)

Specimen Name: “Talisman”

Gender: Male

Height: 6 feet, 3 inches (190.5 centimeters)

Family and/or affiliated group:   Hepia Lepirkian Tribe

Specimen seems to have the closest resemblance to Tolype velleda, or the large tolype moth. Wing patterns are near identical, along with a substantial amount of fur-like scales located on his neck. 

Legs are bipedal, much like humans; however they take on a lightly curved and almost digitigrade appearance. 

Arms take on a humanoid form, albeit a few inches longer than the average person. Lepirkian hands are five-fingered and clawed. As observed on the specimen, Talisman, hands seem to fade into a black color at the fingertips. 

I have recovered a small sample of the  Lepirkian’s wing. Next, I plan to obtain a blood sample. (Wing procedure was painless and will not hinder his ability to fly in the future. Although, specimen was visibly distressed. I recognize that there were likely better, less upsetting ways to obtain wing sample, and I will try to avoid such outcomes down the line.)

Sample was observed under a compound microscope, and the results were fascinating. The wing scales showed clear similarities to smaller moth counterparts- although the scales themselves were more resistant and durable than a usual moth’s.

Hopefully I will learn the secrets of these creature’s near-immortal lives. It’s pivotal that I keep the Lepirkian specimen alive, as he is the only source of information I have. I’m in uncharted territory, and every bit of knowledge will count towards something greater. 

—Doctor K.E. Midas

@c-large-pancake-with-holes @l3m0n-c0r3 @azrael-1121 @s7nnydrop-flower @w1llow-w1sp @teddythetriceratops @stickmandennt @analoghorrorisyummy

[violets-page]

Safe and sound |K.E|

Katniss Everdeen X Reader request

MASTERLIST

If you want to get super in the feels listen to ‘Safe and Sound’ by Taylor Swift and/or ‘Lover, Where Do You Live?’  by Highasakite

Gonna be the first to send in a request for my wifey katniss. I would love to see a relationship between katniss and a fellow district 12 person before and after she is sent to the hunger games. It can be platonic or romantic even though I prefer romantic (I’m a sucker for a gooey love story). I was thinking how either the hunger games changes their relationship for the good or bad, it either pushing them closer once she returns alive or the show she had to put on at the capital with peeta making the reader push her away. I love all your fics and your writing is so good, I would love to see what you come up with but no pressure!

In the woods, you could pretend like you two were the only creatures on the whole planet that existed. That the world was your jungle gym, where you swung carelessly and laughed freely. You wandered through the woods alone, It didn't scare you, Katniss was somewhere close by. She had promised to knap you a bunny or two so you could make a new sac for foraging. 

Your fingers trailed along the vine of wild raspberries. They were not ripe yet but in a few days... You should make sure to point them out to her so she can come back and get them.

The cracking of sticks behind you made you whip around, a sigh of relief escaping your lips when Katniss’s smiling figure hopped towards you. She pointed to her sack a grin on her face

“I got three,” You shot a smile to match hers before grasping her hand and dragging her to another part of the woods.

“Where are we going?” Her hand was warm in yours and you let yourself soak up the memory.

“I need to show you something.” 

Her hand was warm in your cold and dirty one, you hope she didn’t mind the dirt now staining her hands, transferred there from your fingertips.

You brought her to a bush, putting your hand up to stop her from walking into it. You raised a finger, pointing at it but carefully avoiding touching it.

“That's stinging nettle, don't go walking into it, you’ll get a nasty rash.”

You looked up to find her peering off in the distance her eyes squinted to see through the sunlight. You glanced around her to see a deer munching on some grass a few yards away. You huffed, nudging her sharply in the side.

“Katniss! come on, what if I'm not here one day to tell you this stuff.” She looked at you quickly a small frown on her face.

“Why are you so worried about not being here?” You quickly looked down and away from Katniss. As far as she knew your name was only in once.

“Y/n? how many times is your name in?”

“42.”

The silence was physically painful as she stared at you. You fiddled with the ends of your sleeve, actively avoiding her gaze.

“Why?” This was the part of the question you had been dreading.

“You were so sick last winter, so I...” It dawned on her, all the medicines you brought and the food, the firewood, and the clothes. She never questioned how you got them. She should have. You turned around once you had gotten enough berries, keeping your eyes trained carefully on the ground.

Neither of you spoke.

*   *   *   *   *   *   *   *

When Prim’s name was called you were shocked, You truly expected it to be you. When Katniss volunteered you were even more shocked. You should have expected it though, she would have done anything to save her sister. You didn't even get the chance to grab her hand and tell her you loved her before she was standing on the stage. Tears pricked your eyes as hers met yours. You were to busy staring at her to hear the boy’s name.

*   *   *   *   *   *   *   *

When her lips hit his you froze. You had to put your hand on your chest because you weren’t sure if your heart was still beating. Every detail seemed imprinted in your mind. The way her eyes flickered down to his lips for just a moment. The way you did when you kissed her.

You had never hated anyone, you despised watching the games and felt your heart aching for each dead kid. But when the blonde boy came on the screen. you found yourself silently cheering at each step he came closer to death. And each night you would feel guilty, wondering if in the morning her might be gone. But every morning you awoke to find him alive the guilt would disintegrate.

They were the last two left, you felt a sick sense of pleasure at the thought of watching her kill him. All your fears and pain would die with him. Wipe that innocent smile that everyone seemed to love off his face. You hated how he looked at her like she loved him. Heck, maybe she did but you wouldn’t allow yourself to think in that direction.

You watched them stand in the center her bow loaded with an arrow but not pointed at anything. Your brow furrowed when she tossed it to the ground.

When she grabbed the berries you froze.

*   *   *   *   *   *   *   *

You shoot through the woods in search of Katniss. Tree branches scraped at your arms as you brushed them away, she was crouched down in front of a bush of dark blue berries. Your eyes darted over to her fingers where she was observing one. Your eyes widened in horror as she raised it to her lips.

“KATNISS!”

You flung yourself onto her, pushing the berry away and causing you both to topple down the small hill. She looked at you in scared confusion. You were on top of her, your body sprayed flat against her, knocked there when you went tumbling. You didn’t allow yourself to think about the scratch on your forehead or the leaves in your hair as you started scolding her. 

“What the hell are you doing? trying to kill yourself?”

She shook her head quickly, brows furrowed.

“What, no.”

You glanced up the hill where the innocent-looking bush lay untouched.

“Those berries will drop a 300-pound man in minutes.” She quickly looked to the small pouch attached to her hip, when you looked at it you noticed a pile of the berries tumbling out.

“They were for you.” she stared at the berries in horror, quickly turning the bag upside down to dump the rest out. You let out a soft chuckle, relieved she was okay.

“You’re not getting away from me that easy Katniss.” She rolled her eyes, snorting softly before tangling her fingers in your messy hair, pulling your head down to place a deep kiss against your upturned lips.

.*   *   *   *   *   *   *   *

Those berries.

You knew them. You had shown her them, and now she was going to kill herself to save a boy neither of you cared about. Or at least neither of you should have cared about. You watched her raise the berries to her lips and wanted to scream at her. Your breath caught in your throat, you could get any air in. You were drowning in heartbreak. Instead, you let a soft no tumble from your lips.

This was the end. She was gone forever.

Your hand rose to your mouth as you let out a choked sob. It felt like you were dying. The breaths finally came as you coughed on them. Breathing in short strangled breaths as your fingers trembled, the tears would never stop.

You watched her stand there with this boy. He was going to be her last kiss. The world faded away as you watched her stare into his eyes. Those should have been your eyes. She whispered something to him as they lifted the poison berries to their lips. Those should have been your lips.

And then the voice came on. You couldn’t hear a word over the ringing in your ears. Your hand gripped the fabric over your heart as you cried out in relief when their hands dropped. She was alive. She was okay. This should have made you feel better, but the image of her staring into his eyes, their bodies nearly pressed together as they held hands, wouldn’t leave your mind.

*   *   *   *   *   *   *   *

When she came back everything felt strained. You couldn’t meet her eyes and every touch felt forced.

The kitchen was silent other than the knife scraping against the potatoes and the soft crunch of you grinding herbs. It was giving you a headache, the stress of it all. Pretending like nothing was wrong when in reality you were breaking at the seams you had carefully sewn around your torn heart. It was too much for you. The silence. The pain in your heart. 

“Katniss.”

You were with her in your family’s shack, you had refused to go to her house. Even though it was large and warm with beds and working furniture. She hummed in acknowledgment not looking up from where she sat peeling potatoes.

 “What happened in there?” You knew what had happened, you’d seen it. What you didn't know was how it felt, the whispers and secrets off camera as they struggled to survive.

 The sound of the scraping knife came to a jagged halt but you couldn’t bring yourself to look over and gauge her reaction.

The silence grew too loud and you forced yourself to gaze up at her. She was staring down at the knife in her hand, when you glanced at it you could see bright blood against the blade. “Did you cut yourself?” You rushed over to her, lifting your apron to wrap it around the slice on her thumb. She just kept staring at the knife, her face frozen in a horrified expression.

“Katniss?”

 The anger and frustration faded when you saw her broken eyes shoot up to you. She looked petrified, her hands still holding the knife trembled under your grasp. The silent unshed tears shattered your heart as you ran your fingers through her hair. She hadn't worn it in a braid since she came back and your fingers kept catching on small knots. She leaned her head against your stomach and sobbed. You pulled the bloody knife out of her tight grip setting it on the table behind you before turning back to look at her. You shushed her, untangling her hair as her tears soaked through your blouse. Her hands slowly  moving to wrap around your waist.

Katniss didn’t cry, not in front of you or anyone else. Not when her dad died and not when she left for the games. They had changed her, that much was obvious. You’d been so fixated on her with a boy that you had failed to think about everything else that was going on in the arena. 

The people she had to kill, the people she had to watch die, knowing there was nothing she could do to help them. And then, at the end with Peeta, Maybe that was her trying to save them. Maybe she knew that they wouldn't let her die. It didn’t matter to you anymore. She was here with you, in your arms. She was yours. She had been before the games and she remained when she returned. It didn't matter what had happened between her and Peeta in the games because, in the end, she had chosen you.

 You swayed slightly as her sobs quieted down. You bent down to kiss her forehead, your hands cupping her cheeks as her hands gripped your wrists.

 “Your safe here Katniss. No one can hurt you now, or ever again. I promise.”  She nodded her head a few times, trying to reassure herself of your words. You gripped her hands, rewrapping your apron tightly around the cut on her finger. 

You hadn't wanted to examine it till she calmed down, afraid that the blood would send her into another frenzy. You kept her hand clasped tightly in yours, Her eyes were glazed over as you led her to her house, yours lacked the medical supplies needed in the case that the cut was worse than you thought. The gated community was huge and quite intimidating. You felt your heart pound as you neared the large black gate of the ghost town.

Primrose stood in the kitchen washing vegetables, she looked shocked when she saw you, opening her mouth to speak but quickly snapping it shut at the sight of Katniss. “3rd room on the left, 2nd floor.” You nodded at her with a small smile before leading Katniss ever so slowly up the stairs. The appearance of her bedroom seemed to snap her out of her daze as she straightened a bit and turned to you.

“I'm okay.” Her smile was sad but she was trying to brighten it up. You frowned at her.

“Don't lie to me.” She sighed, she knew you and knew her lying skills. There was nothing she could get away with.

You sat her on the bed peeling your apron off her wound. The blood had dried and stopped but you wanted to make sure it wouldn't get infected, It was deep and spanned from her fingernail to the base of her palm.

Primrose appeared carrying alcohol and gauze, setting it on the nightstand before hurrying out. You watched her retreating figure before turning back to Katniss, who was staring up at you.

 “Hand.” She held it out and you grasped it carefully, as to not rub your fingers against the exposed wound.

 You soaked a piece of the gauze with the alcohol before wiping the blood around the cut. You were avoiding the cut itself because that would be the hard part.

“I thought of you.” You looked up at her with a furrowed brow, the gauze slipping over the cut causing her to hiss and you too look back down.

“When I kissed him. I thought of you, and how all I wanted to do was come back.” You chewed your lip remembering the way your cried yourself to sleep, repeating in your mind that you never wanted to see her again.

 You wanted to forgive her, to shove the memory away and embrace her with open arms, to kiss her like you used to. But the image wouldn't leave your mind. You closed your eyes and tried to picture something else. Katniss, alone in the woods, falling asleep to the memory of your lips. Your heart calmed and you opened your eyes to find her eyes desperately searching your face.

You leaned down a soft kiss against her lips as your hand reached to cradle her neck.

“I'm with you, always.” With time the memories would fade, until then you let her lips bring you comfort and her hands bring you peace.

_____________________________________________

[hoekaashi]

Seven Years | K.E.

a/n: thank you for 700!! i really appreciate it. should i have written fluff for this? mayhaps. did i? nope (: also thank you to @bakugoustanaccount​ for making this amazing banner for me, love you boo pairing: kirishima x reader words: 1.2k warnings: mentions of death and blood, a car accident taglist: @babydabi​, @suckersuki​, @animoozies​

Seven years, down the drain. Kirishima sat in the hospital bed, numb. What about the rest of his life? What was he going to do now? He thought back to what happened and tried to think of any signs that he missed. Anything that could have changed the outcome of that night.

The two of you were on your way back from your five year reunion. The reunion wasn’t hosted by the school itself, but rather the students who graduated five years ago. Kirishima was enjoying himself, meeting up and talking to his old classmates he hadn’t seen in a while. Even though you saw them around once a week, you stuck with your friends, opting out of mingling with your fiance. Mina brought up how different you and Kirishima were - Kirishima being this open and friendly person who got along with everyone easily and you being a more selective person, choosing to stick to what was familiar to you. 

It’s true, no one really saw the two of you getting together, but there was something about you that drew in Kirishima and it took him almost a year to finally get the courage to ask you out. You didn’t know what it was about him that made you want to know him better. Maybe it was the way he always made you comfortable, or maybe it was the warm feeling you felt whenever he was around. You felt safe in his presence. The shock that came over him when you didn’t hesitate to say yes made you clutch your stomach from laughter and from that moment, he knew you were the one he wanted to spend the rest of his life with. But here you were, seven years later, taking your relationship slow and enjoying every moment. You weren't in any rush to get married and Kirishima learned how to slow things down with you by his side.

“Babe, why don’t you talk to people with me? You’re just standing here with Kaminari and Mina.” Kirishima pouted.

You glanced between the three people around you. “Well, it’s like I’ve been telling you since our first year, Kaminari is my favorite.” 

“Kaminari is my favorite,” Mina said with you, causing Kirishima to pout harder.

You wrapped your arms around his waist and planted a kiss on his cheek, giving into his wish. “One round and that’s all.”

Kirishima’s pout instantly flipped to a smile and he led you out into the crowd. As much as you just wanted to hang with your friends, it was nice to see everyone again. You got caught up in conversations with a few people like Shinsou and Midoriya, losing track of the time you spent talking with them. Kirishima watched as you became animated as you spoke and couldn’t help the smile on his face. Regardless of how long the two of you had been together, he felt like he was falling in love all over again every day.

“If you aren’t gonna fucking pay attention to what I’m saying, I’m leaving.”

Kirishima turned to Bakugou, rubbing the nape of his neck. “Sorry Bakubro, I can’t help it sometimes.”

“Tch, whatever.”

The rest of the night went by in a blur. When it was finally time to leave, you couldn’t have felt more exhausted. The two were in their car, Kirishima driving them home.

“That is the most mingling I’ve done in a long time,” you commented as you leaned the passenger’s seat back and closed your eyes.

Kirishima chuckled. “You enjoyed yourself though. Admit it.”

You opened one eye to look at the red head. “I admit to nothing.”

He placed a hand on your thigh, giving it a gentle squeeze, and you placed your hand on his. “Babe, I know you said you aren’t in a rush...but I can’t wait to marry you.”

You smiled softly. “Me too. Maybe next year.”

“That’s so far,” he whined.

“I’m not going anywhere, neither are you. We should just enjoy life as it comes.” You propped the seat back up, not wanting to fall asleep and leave Kirishima alone to drive.

He hummed. “I love you.”

“I love you too.” Those were words that only Kirishima heard. You never said them for anyone else - not even when Mina got you shitfaced at her birthday. Those words belonged to Kirishima and him only.

He removed his hand from your leg, placing it on the wheel, and leaned forward a bit. “The fuck is…”

Kirishima slammed on the breaks and managed to avoid crashing head first into a stop truck. You felt all the sleep leave your body as you stared in shock at what almost happened.

“Why is there a truck parked here -”

Your words were cut off by another truck hitting the car from the back. The car collided into the truck in front of them, the entire front of the car crushed under the truck.

Thinking fast, Kirishima hardened himself last second, avoiding a majority of the damage he would’ve received. Once the car stopped moving, he opened his eyes and looked around. He felt himself freeze over when he saw you lying next to him, covered in blood, unconscious. He reached for you, keeping his quirk activated to avoid the glass and metal all around him.

“Hey, wake up,” he said as he turned your head so you were facing him.

Your eyes fluttered open and you coughed up some blood. “Eiji…” you whispered. Just that amount of effort was too much for you. Wincing from the pain, Kirishima saw that some of the glass was stuck in your throat.

“Don’t move or do anything. I’m gonna call for help and the doctor’s will help you.” He broke through his door and reached into his pocket for his phone. Quickly dialing for an ambulance, Kirishima began to investigate the trucks. Both of them had no drivers in them which he found strange until he remembered the last villain he fought with. Kirishima had killed the villain’s wife. It wasn’t on purpose, but they were both highly wanted criminals. The villain could control objects…

Kirishima looked around for the villain but couldn’t find any traces of him. By the time the police and ambulance got there, he had searched the entire area around them and found nothing. He got into the ambulance with you, holding your hand, and trying not to cry. You were covered in blood from head to toe and he watched as the EMTs tried to stop some of the major bleeding. He kept telling himself that everything was going to be okay, that you would be okay.

Kirishima was treated for his wounds while you were operated on. No one could give him any information on what was going on and he stopped asking. Eventually the ER doctor came into his room with a grave look on his face.

“I’m sorry, she didn’t make it…”

Those four words were enough to destroy his life. It was a joke right? They were messing with him. Kirishima ripped out the IVs in his arm and grabbed the doctor by his scrub’s collars. Bakugou showed up in time to pull his best friend off the doctor. He had heard the news and pulled Kirishima into a tight hug. The blond took all the hits and punches his friend delivered to him as he got his anger out. He didn't let go until Kirishima cooled his rage off and finally started crying. It felt like Bakugou held his friend for hours before he finally calmed down.

Sniffling, Kirishima spoke. “She said she wasn’t going anywhere. She lied to me…”

[theatreworksstkilda]

DRIVE: REBECCA MESTON IN TOP GEAR

Theatre People

K.E. WEBER — MAY 31, 2019

Inspired by true events, playwright Rebecca Meston, has written a tale of loss and heartbreak set to a backdrop of time and space.

Drive is a play that was inspired by former NASA astronaut Lisa Nowak, who in 2007 drove from Houston to Orlando to confront her ex-lover’s lover and supposed attempt to kidnap her. Five months before this event she had been up in space on a mission.

Meston was gripped by the crime at the time, but it wasn’t until 10 years later, when she was constantly driving across regional SA that she remembered it like a flash.

“Then I couldn’t stop thinking about it,” she says. ” Now with a small child in the back of my car, and driving amidst highways and freeways and long stretches of horizon, I was struck by the more thematic elements of the story, like how big the world is, and how incredibly small. How completely capable and driven you can be when the stakes are so high, but you’re also feeling lost, or grief-stricken, or heartbroken.”

“Looking out at the road there was this immediate sense of “I can’t look away now. I can’t get distracted. Or seek to be distracted. Yes there may be a banger of a song on the radio and I’ll go into memory, or fantasy, or a conversation I wish could happen, but ultimately, at the eleventh hour of this drive, I will have to face it. Face myself.'”

While the show is about an astronaut and an otherworldly backdrop, it’s really about loss, heartbreak, the end of a marriage, a long-term relationship. In an epic way. Meston explains that the show charts a 14-hour trip through space and time, in the back seat of our heroine’s car, memory and fantasy come and go like a dark, otherworldly version of Taxicab Confessions.

Meston goes on to say that beyond the location and Americana of it all, is a 14-hour unravelling of a highly capable woman; filled with mess, nuance, and controlled rage. How does this happen? What does a complex unravelling of an inner-life look like? Bringing it back to the here and now, the relevant themes explored include:

How a woman so at the top of her game, with a family and a 19-year marriage, can fall so spectacularly apart?

How we often use this old adage “the truth will set you free”, but what is the actual process of getting free? What do you have to go through first? Is it a dark 14-hour drive of the soul made through the middle of a rainy night?

How close are any of us, at any time, to snapping? To getting into a car and not looking back? Do we in fact all have 10 per cent of Lisa Nowak in us somewhere?

When you put your distractions aside, your double screening, your social media, your Game of Thrones addiction, all the stuff that helps you look away, and properly face yourself, what happens?

The engrossing work took approximately two years of work from initial concept to completed work.  A first stage development, as part of Vitalstatistix’ ‘Incubator’ residency, was done in May, 2017. Meston then worked on it with dramaturg Saffron Benner, as part of ‘A Month in the Country’ at Hothouse, and then, in 2018, it went through an inSPACE development with a packed out showing. Meston and team have now spent four weeks rehearsing and it’s primed and ready.

Meston confesses that one of the challenges of getting Drive to performance stage was in explaining the idea in one or two quick sentences!

“The form of the show – road theatre – and that audiences are basically going on a drive from A to B over 50 minutes – isn’t a style we regularly see on stages,” says Meston. “We have road movies, Thelma and Louise, Death Proof, etc, but what does road theatre look like and feel like? What are its conventions? How do you abstract a car? All brilliant creative challenges.”

Meston acknowledges that the joys, on the other hand, was making this very style of work, and with a story that explores the more complex and nuanced elements of what it feels like to be human. “And working with an extraordinary team of artists who care deeply about making new work, and who are all exceptionally good at bringing new Australian work to life,” she says.

Research was a big part of Meston’s journey with two years devoted to researching the world of astronauts, NASA, space travel and what it takes to get there. In that time,  Metson’s insight into the world and mind of her lead character, Stella, heightened making writing her a little easier.  

“When it came to writing the show, it all just poured out of me,” she says. “Maybe “easier” is the wrong response. It was still really hard too, Stella is a tricky character and not exactly the easiest person to spend time with. “

“She is going through great loss while in a sense coping, or treating her car drive like a mission into space. No it didn’t end well, but she was highly functional. I relate to this, as I’m sure a lot of audiences will. We don’t all fall apart and become immobilised during loss and grief. Some of us do the exact opposite. I felt I knew my material very well, as opposed to her being “easier to write'”.

As a playwright, Meston cares about finding the genre that serves the story. Whether it’s cabaret, stand-up, direct address, a punk rock musical, a five-hour durational public performance. “Growing up, when my mum was angry at me when I’d have a friend over, she’d sometimes whisper in my ear, “When I get you behind closed doors, WOE BETIDE!!” (she’s English)”

It’s precisely this that interests her. The behind-closed-doors of a character. The hard parts of a character. Not the one smiling broadly, and waving goodbye to said friend. The one who closes the door, turns and shows the mess, the anger and all that’s been temporarily flattened out for public display.

“There is a British/Nordic detective series called Marcella with Anna Friel which I found so intriguing in the making of this work,” explains Meston. “The character of Marcella is not immediately likeable, but you are with her, care about her, are on her side, from the beginning because of her richly drawn, nuanced character who is neither maiden, mother or crone. The storytellers I like best include Patricia Cornelius, Kate Mulvany, Bryony Kimmings, Clare Barron, Jeanette Winterson, Barbara Trapdio and my late friend, poet Hima Raza.”

Next on the list for Meston is the making of Hits of the 70s, 80s and 90s – an intimate cabaret with a live choir, which aims to reimagine the mythology of Australian rock music from a female perspective.

Meston explains that it will feature a rambling house party come front bar of an Australian pub, complete with garish, swirly carpet that sticks to your feet and reeks of stale beer and cigarettes.

But for now, Meston’s focus is Drive – a work that aims to be brutal, funny, aware of itself as theatre and profoundly moving.

As the show charts a 14-hour trip through space and time, in the back seat of our heroine’s car, memory and fantasy come and go like a dark, otherworldly version of Taxicab Confessions. Urgent and immediate, Drive tells the stories you will never read about on your Instagram feed, but to which your heart will explosively relate.

June 6 – 15

www.theatreworks.org.au/program/drive/

[thelazydoughnut]

K.E.

Oh, so this is how it's going to go? So, everything will suck right now and there is no safe place without seeing you everywhere?

Guess what, when people hurt me really bad, I remove them from my life. When they try to convince me that the one person I trust more than anyone has been telling you personal info about our relationship when I know it's not true, well, welcome to my shit list. When you constantly remind me that you feel superior to me and that my life is minuscule compared to yours, yeah, go fuck yourself. You need to be put in your place. Your arrogance has ruined whatever relationship we will ever have. I want you as far away from me as possible.

To boil it all down, you kicked me when I was down. That is unforgivable. I have no time for people with that arrogant behavior, that is toxic to me. You must have very low self esteem to constantly need to compare yourself to me. Maybe you should take a seat in the humble corner.

What even pisses me off the most, is because of how pathetic I felt at the time, I didn't stand up for myself. I didn't get the satisfaction of putting you in your place myself. I remained weak and let you walk all over me. I'm so angry as myself for that.

So bottom line, if I said this to your face, you'd come up with a million excuses for yourself just to save face. I'm not interested in hearing whatever you say, you are done. Get far away from me so you can't ever hurt me again.

[hoekaashi]

Sometimes | K.E.

a/n: this is based on sometimes by ariana grande. also thank you bribro for being bored and making my banner pairing: kirishima x reader warnings: none taglist: @bakugoustanaccount​, @babydabi​, @suckersuki​

You were sitting at the table by yourself, the waiter passing by several times and giving you a different look of pity each time. Sighing, you pulled out your phone and opened a game. You had exhausted all social media about twenty minutes ago and didn’t want to text your friends, only for them to mock you or say ‘I told you so’. After finishing your seventh glass of water, you really needed to pee too, but you knew that if you got up, the table would be given to someone else seeing as how there was a huge rush at the front and this restaurant was hard to get into. You noticed the waiter walking back over to you and you were ready to tell him off, but you saw the glass he had in his hand.

“This is from the man at the bar, in the beige suit.” He placed the glass down and walked away before you had the chance to say anything.

Looking at the man the waiter described, he raised his glass to you and winked. You gave him a tight lipped smile back, but moved the glass away from you. Opening your phone again, you went back to your game, wondering how much longer you would be sitting by yourself. You heard footsteps approaching you once again, but ignored them.

“Don’t like the drink?” a voice behind you asked.

You looked to your right, locking your phone and saw the man from the bar standing next to you, his drink still in hand. “I actually don’t accept drinks from strangers.”

“In that case, my name is Daisuke.”

You looked the man up and down. He was pretty good looking, clean cut, and knew how to dress well. From the quality of his clothing, you could tell he either made good money or knew a place that sold really good dupes.

“Like what you see? Most people do,” he said, a little too cockily.

You opened your mouth to respond when you finally saw the man you had been waiting for. You broke out in a smile, looking past Daisuke, your stomach fluttering from the sight of him. “My boyfriend is here,” you replied, your gaze never returning to the man.

He muttered something as he walked away, but you weren’t paying attention. Kirishima’s smile faltered as he watched the man walk away from you. He kissed the top of your head before sitting down across from you.

“Who was that?” You knew Kirishima got jealous when other men tried to make a move on you, but he never tried to act on it. Eyeing the other man, his playfulness disappearing, and when he felt more threatened, the appearance of his arm around your waist or shoulder.

“I don’t know, some guy who bought me a drink and asked why I wasn’t drinking it.” You shrugged and finally picked up the menu in front of you. “What took so long?”

Kirishima couldn’t help but feel uneasy. This happened a lot more than he liked to admit. “Uh, I was on my way here when a villain showed up in front of me. I had to deal with that.” You placed your hand on Kirishima’s, causing your boyfriend to immediately look at you. He grimaced and looked down at your hand, interlocking your fingers with him. “I’m sorry, I always do this.”

You gave him a warm smile. You understood why he felt this way. The two of you had grown up in the same neighborhood. While he went off to become a hero, you chose a more traditional pathway. While the two of you had been friends, you didn’t become close until your second year of high school when Kirishima saved you during a villain attack when he was out with Fatgum. You had been dating someone at the time and over the course of five years, he watched you go through three relationships and two casual flings. It was always really easy for you to get bored in relationships, the longest one lasting nine months before a new guy caught your eye. He watched you go through all of this, but here the two of you were, having been together for three years and he was still on edge. You didn’t mind it though. You appreciated that he cared so much. There was never a moment when you reassured him that you weren’t going anywhere that wasn’t filled with love and was always one hundred percent genuine. With Kirishima, everything just clicked. To this day, you didn’t know what it was about him, but you never found yourself bored of him or caught your eyes wandering. Hell, you didn’t even think you left the honeymoon phase yet.

Looking at him now, his red hair down and pulled back in a small ponytail, the first two buttons of his wrinkled shirt undone, his blazer a bit too small for his build, you felt love bloom in your chest as if it was the first time.

“Ei, honey, there are so many people in this restaurant, but you’re the only one I’m looking at. You’re the only one I care about.”

He looked at up, about five different emotions crossing his face in under a second. Finally, his usual, warm smile returned. “Yeah, I guess I forget that sometimes.” He brought your hand up to his lips and kissed it before picking up the menu himself.

You watched as he looked through, deciding what to eat. You always found yourself questioning why you never noticed him before. Why you put yourself through all those years of heartbreak when Kirishima had always been next to you. 

Without looking up, Kirishima spoke. “Why are you staring at me?”

“I love you.” His eyes peeked up from behind the menu. “I just feel stupid that I never noticed you before.”

He took a moment to figure out what he wanted and flagged down the waiter to order. Once that was done, he took off his blazer and leaned forward on the table with his hands clasped. “You weren’t stupid, you were being a teenager.”

“You were always there for me.”

He smiled. “And I always will be, even if things don’t work out.”

You frowned. “Ei, don’t say that.”

“I’m being honest.”

“I never…” You looked down. There weren’t any secrets between the two of you, but you always gave each other space until the other was ready to talk about some things. “You already know how I felt about my past relationships. Either I wasn’t happy, or it got boring, or I was lied to and cheated on. But with you, Ei, I never had those problems. I never find myself wondering if or when we’ll end. I only have amazing memories with you. And I want to thank you for that.”

You gave him a moment to let the words sink in. “I don’t ever want to give you the impression that I’m going anywhere, because I’m not. But giving you good memories and making you happy? Those aren’t things you should be thanking me for, angel. It wouldn’t be manly of me if I wasn’t giving you something as simple and basic as that. Also it would be pretty shitty.” He rubbed the nape of his neck. “I’m glad you told me that though. I guess I still need to work on my own confidence.”

You grinned. “I’ll be right by your side the entire time. When I tell you that there’s nothing you need to worry about, I mean it. I love you so much Eijiro.”

“I love you more.”