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[dylawas-reblogs]

Genuine question @ me: why can't you get it together (rant in tags)

[dreamingofaizawa]

Short Stack

Okay, so I recently started a series called Saving Her Sanity, and I had only gotten one part posted. But the more I reread it, the more I really hated the way I’d written it. So I’m postponing that and starting a different series. It’s gonna be a real rollercoaster ride of emotions, so buckle up.

Pro Hero! KiriBaku x ProHero! Fem! Reader

**18+ Fic**

Warnings: Angst, fluff, habitual self-harm, dissociation, swearing from obvious sources, alcohol. Coming up in later parts: smexy times, biting kink, double penetration, unprotected sex, more angst, traumatic past (but not super detailed cuz I can’t handle that shit my heart hurts already)

Word Count: 6.9k

Author’s Note: Alright folks, the reader is a fucking savage and stronger than the fucking hulk cause why the fuck not? Tbh body type isn’t discussed, the only thing is that she’s short af and the angry pomeranian and redhead boulder are freaking giants. Also, everyone’s in their mid-late twenties here. 

Part 2 - Part 3

Enjoy the read!

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You dove out of the way of chunks of concrete, barely making it behind the corner of the alleyway. You took off sprinting, hopefully drawing the villain away from civilian activity. Thankfully he chased after you, onto an abandoned street, out in the open where you had the upper hand. Twirling around, you materialized a scythe and swung it straight at the enormous arm coming at you, nearly chopping off the villain’s fist completely. 

He stopped in his tracks and howled in pain, giving you the opening you needed. You charged him and dropped to the ground, taking his legs out as you slid under him. A chain materialized in place of the scythe and you wrapped it around his ankles and his undamaged hand, hog tying him in place. You’d only been fighting the villain for about five minutes, and backup wasn’t going to be there for at least another two, so you put a quirk cancelling cuff on him and began to wrap his bleeding wrist to keep him from bleeding out. 

As you waited for backup, you sat down and leaned against the villain, who’d passed out from blood loss, and tended to your own wounds from the encounter. Backup arrived, but it wasn’t what you expected. Instead of police, stomping toward you was none other than the number two hero Ground Zero. His vermillion eyes glanced between you and the villain that was quite literally twice your size, and the expression on his face looked ever so slightly confused at the scene he was witnessing. 

He stopped at your feet, glaring down at you for a few seconds, looked back at the villain, then back at you, and when he opened his mouth to speak the most absurd thing you’d ever heard came from his lips.

“How the hell did you do that?”

You looked up at him and raised an eyebrow, slightly irritated at the implication behind the question. Without a word, you stood up and dusted the dirt off your butt. You walked a few yards away, pulled out your phone and dialed the police, making sure they came with a vehicle that could fit the huge villain. When you turned back around to face Ground Zero, you didn’t expect him to be so close to you. He leaned down so you were face to face, narrowing his eyes at you and letting out what sounded like a growl. “I don’t like being ignored, dumbass.”

You rolled your eyes and glared right back at him. “Well I don’t like to be undermined, Ground Zero. I may be small but I can handle myself in a fight.” And it was true. You were very small, at a whopping 5 feet tall (152 cm). His eye twitched and jaw clenched, and you could almost see the steam coming from his ears. Before he could retort, you saw something being launched from behind him. You swung your leg under him and pinned him to the ground just in time to dodge a manhole cover as it whizzed above your heads.

Without hesitation you launched toward the second villain that appeared and quickly had him immobilized and cuffed on the ground next to the first. You turned back to the number two hero, who was still on the ground watching you with wide eyes. You walked over and held your hand out to him, offering to help him up. To your surprise he actually grabbed your hand and let you pull him to stand. He didn’t let go of your hand, instead looking at it, bewildered. 

“Can I have my hand back?” you looked at him blankly. He blinked a few times before releasing his grip. Soon the police arrived to take the villains, and once they left, you began to walk back to the agency since your patrol had ended a little while ago. Ground Zero ran after you and grabbed you by the wrist, turning you around to face him.

“What’s your name?” You raised an eyebrow at the man. “My hero name is Inventory. Now If you don’t mind, I’ve got paperwork to fill out.” He let go of your arm and walked alongside you. You knew why he was walking with you, seeing as you worked as a hero at his agency. As you walked into the building he turned to you with a quizzical look. Without even glancing in his direction you gave a small sigh. “Why am I not surprised that you don’t even know I work under you?”

He seemed slightly shocked. He made it a point to know who was working for him. After all, he couldn’t have anybody screwing up his agency’s reputation. Somehow, though, you’d managed to slip under his radar. Though considering your stature, hero rank, and the fact that you hadn’t made a single mistake since your debut, he figured he’d just brushed you off.

After you filled out all your paperwork, you changed out of your hero costume and into workout clothes and hit the agency’s gym. Like you always did, you went straight to the separate room reserved for sparring, expecting to have to go back out and find a partner. Today, though, you didn’t. As you entered the room, there was a certain angry blonde and a very muscular red-haired man sitting against the wall. 

“Well if it isn’t short stack” Ground Zero called out to you. Well that’s one way to get you mad. You tilted your head sharply to one side, then the other, your neck popping loudly as you took a deep breath to calm your anger. “Hello, Ground Zero. I didn’t expect you to be in here. I’ll just leave you to it then.” The irritation seeped into your voice as you turned around to leave the room.

Of course, the jackass had to go and say something else. “What? You too scared to spar against me? Am I too big for you to handle?” God damn it. You both knew you had taken down much larger opponents than him, and you knew it wasn’t very smart to fight your boss, but at this point you were pissed. You closed your eyes and took a deep breath through your nose.

He stood up and began stalking towards you, his heavy footsteps ringing in your ears. You dropped your duffel and whirled around, walking to him and meeting him in the middle of the room. At least sparring was only hand-to-hand combat, because you knew he’d easily overpower you if he could use his quirk. But you trained almost exclusively in hand-to-hand, because your quirk wasn’t combat related.

As you dropped into your fighting stance, he narrowed his eyes at you, clearly confused at the odd stance you were in. In all your years of training, you had developed your very own fighting style. He quickly shrugged off his confusion and put his arms up in front of his face, ready for whatever you were about to throw at him. The two of you stood there, waiting for the other to make the first move. As predicted, his patience ran out and you easily ducked and dodged the first few quick jabs he threw.

He kept throwing punches, each one a little more intense, and you could see he was getting irritated from how you were dodging every single one. Soon enough he was lunging at you with each punch he threw, his anger getting the best of him. Five minutes of him punching and you dodging had him fuming. You hadn’t even thrown a single punch. Still, it was a game of cat and mouse with you dodging everything he threw.

The whole time he’d been aiming at your face and shoulders, keeping his strikes high. But suddenly he launched at you and his right fist aimed straight for your stomach. Got him. You planted your right foot and spun counter-clockwise, grabbed his wrist with your left hand, grabbed his shoulder with your right, and used his own momentum to fling him over your head. He landed on his back with a thud, all the air pushed out of his lungs from the impact. 

You knew he’d have to take a few seconds to get up from that, and that meant you won the match in a single move. You stood over his head, smirking down at him. He glared up at you with eyes wide as saucers, wheezing from the throw, and the redhead cackled from his spot against the wall. You kneeled down and hunched over, your noses inches apart, and said, “Still think you’re too big for me to handle?”

Staring down at him, you stood again and walked over to the redhead. “Hi, I’m (y/l/n) (y/n), hero name Inventory.” You introduced yourself and held your hand out for him to shake. He took it and introduced himself as Kirishima Eijirou, a.k.a. Red Riot. You walked back over to Ground Zero and once again held your hand out to help him up. This time, he slapped your hand away and got up himself. “The name’s Bakugou Katsuki,” he said, scowling at you.

Kirishima got up and came over, “Come on Bakugou, don’t be a jerk just cause you lost. Sorry about that (y/l/n), he’s just prideful.” You chuckled lightly, waving it off, “It’s fine. I’ve heard ALL about Ground Zero’s friendly personality and peppy attitude. Anyway, It’s been fun, but I should get going.” Kirishima stopped you before you could walk away. “Hey, (y/l/n), we were gonna go out for drinks after this, you wanna join us?” You looked over to Bakugou, who didn’t give any input, choosing instead to glare at the corner. “Sure I’ll meet you outside in ten.”

You picked up your duffel and went back to the locker room to change into your civilian clothes. The bar was only a couple blocks away, so you all left your stuff in your cars and walked over. Bakugou didn’t say anything the whole way there, still wallowing in his humiliating defeat. You, being the smartass you are, decided to poke the bear.

“Stop sulking Bakugou, I haven’t lost a sparring match since high school. Besides, if we were to use our quirks you’d most likely win the match. You don’t gotta be all depressed about it.” His head snapped toward you and his hands popped and crackled at his sides. It was probably meant to scare you, but you only put your hands up in mock surrender. 

When you got to the bar you all ordered your drinks and sat down at a booth. Kirishima looked at you and started asking questions. “So, (y/l/n), if you’re so sure you’d lose to Bakugou’s quirk, what’s yours?” You answered him like you answered everyone else who’d asked you the same question. “Basically, it’s like an inventory in a video game, hence the hero name. I can “store” things in a pocket of space and materialize them whenever I need them,” then you held out your hand and materialized your car keys and cell phone.

His eyes went wide and he started gushing about how cool and convenient that is. Meanwhile, Bakugou just rolled his eyes and mumbled “showoff” under his breath. Kirishima elbowed him and told him to behave, making you giggle at the dynamic of the two. Despite being at a bar, the only one that drank any alcohol was Kirishima. What really shocked you was that he was a terrible lightweight, and getting him to walk back to the agency was proving extremely difficult, because he was leaning nearly all his weight on you and Bakugou didn’t bother to help.

In fact, Bakugou was busy snickering at the sight of you trying to keep Kirishima from stumbling out onto the road and taking you with him. You’d be lying if you said Kirishima wasn’t heavy, but years of weight training and hero work pays off cause you could easily squat over 200 lbs even if you were tiny. So about a block from the agency, you’d had enough of trying to keep Kirishima from falling over and you just stopped walking.

Kirishima was too out of it to notice. But Bakugou turned and started teasing you for not being able to handle the weight. You just rolled your eyes at him. Before Bakugou could move and take him off your hands, you took a deep breath, and hauled Kirishima onto your shoulders in a fireman carry. Bakugou’s jaw dropped, and he froze in place, just staring at the scene in front of him. That both annoyed you and made you extremely proud, cause you just impressed the number two hero. You were sure the scene was at least a little funny, a giant hanging off your tiny frame, but you ignored it.

Once you had Kirishima secured on your shoulders, you started the trek to the agency. Again, Bakugou was completely silent, but you could tell it wasn’t because he was sulking. Once you were back at the agency, Bakugo led you to his car and got Kirishima settled in the back seat while you stretched out your arms, popping your shoulders and neck. You were about to say bye and head back to your car when Bakugou stopped you. 

“Thanks for carrying him. It was impressive. Unexpected,” he said, not making eye contact, “And the match earlier…You did good. I haven’t been beat that bad in a while.” It almost looked like he was blushing, but it was so subtle you couldn’t tell. You smiled softly at the compliments. “Thanks, Bakugou. I had fun. I’ll be going now.” You turned to walk to your car, but he stopped you again. “Oi, short stack!” You froze at the name, and turned around with a sickly sweet smile on your face, “Yes, Bakugou?” “What’s your number?” It was your turn to be shocked. But you got over it and recited your number to him as he punched it into his phone.

When you got home it was just after midnight, so you got ready for bed and lay down to sleep. The next few days passed relatively quickly, occasionally running into Kirishima or Bakugou. There wasn’t any villain activity in the area, and your gym time was productive. You got a couple of people to spar with you when you needed it, and spent any extra time weight training.

The next day you were off, just like every day you had off, you went straight to the agency and hit the gym. You spent a solid hour at the punching bag and went to go spar again. This time there were five others in the room, which was extremely rare. Normally the room was empty. Two pairs were already going at it, so you asked the fifth if she wanted to spar. 

You’d already worked up a sweat at the punching bag, but you needed the spar, so instead of finishing quickly you made sure to take a couple punches and throw a few before ending the match. You kept the same partner for a few matches, winning each one, and soon the others were watching as you won two more rounds.

The partner you’d been sparring with tapped out to get water, and someone else quickly took her place. You immediately jumped into another match. And then another. And another. Soon they tapped out as well, and by then there were a few more people filing into the room to watch. It confused you, because you’d never seen more than ten people in the padded room, but you ignored it and began another match with yet another partner.

After another few rounds, your new partner tapped out, and you decided it was time to get some water. But it wasn’t until you stepped back out into the center of the room that you realised nobody else was starting a match. Nobody else was sparring with anybody, all their eyes locked on you. As you looked around the room, you noticed it was getting crowded with people, all your previous opponents had already left, and a new opponent stepped out to challenge you.

Now this was strange. Even with your opponent getting into his fighting stance, you looked around the room, confused as to why there were so many people. You dodged a jab, snapping your attention back to your opponent. Well that was a dirty move. At his next swing you ducked under his arm, lunged to his side and swept his legs out from underneath him, ending the match before he could even blink. Playing dirty gets you knocked the fuck out as far as sparring goes for you.

The crowd that had gathered cheered at the quick takedown, and yet another opponent stepped out. You lost track of time, sparring dozens of different opponents, never losing a single match. If you began to tire all you did was end the match quickly to regain energy. After you went to refill your water for what must have been the 20th time, you checked the clock. It was already noon. You’d been sparring for five hours. 

When you went back into the room, another opponent waited in the middle. You apologized and said you had to leave, and the crowd dispersed within minutes. You showered and changed, and as you left the locker room you got a text from a number you didn’t recognize.

?:

Oi short stack, what are you doing right now?

Correction, you knew EXACTLY who this was.

You:

Just got out of the gym. Why?

Bakugou:

Where?

You: 

At the agency

Why?

You didn’t get a reply, but you didn’t need one, cause Bakugou was waiting for you outside the building, sitting in his car, with Kirishima in the passenger seat. “You haven’t had lunch yet right?” Bakugou asked. You shook your head no. Kirishima spoke this time, “Great! Let’s go eat, I’m starving!” Bakugou rolled his eyes and told you to get in, and you chuckled as you got into the back seat.

During the ride Kirishima asked about your day, and you told him about the strange occurrence while you sparred, with a crowd forming to watch and people popping out of nowhere to challenge your winning streak. “Wow (y/l/n)! You still haven’t lost? I should spar with you and see if I can win!” You giggled at that and agreed to spar with him next time. And you kept reiterating how strange it was that there’d be so many people in the room at once, when normally there’s only a handful at a time.

They both questioned it but soon shrugged it off as Bakugou parked the car in front of the sushi restaurant. Lunch was a whirlwind of Kirishima asking you questions, you asking them questions, and Bakugou bickering at Kirishima when he ignored Bakugou entirely. It was fun seeing the two so close. Eventually the conversation rounded back to your sparring matches earlier.

“So how long were you there? If a crowd formed you had to have been at it for a while.” Kirishima asked, trying to figure out how long you’d fought people. You answered sheepishly, a bit embarrassed that you’d lost track of time so easily, “Well...when I checked the clock it’d been about five hours.” Both of them froze, staring at you with wide eyes. Your face burned and you took a sip of your water. Bakugou was the first to talk. “You’re a fucking beast.” Kirishima’s expression went from shock to concern. “Are you ok? Like, how are you not passed out right now?”

You assured him you were fine, and explained how much time you spent in the gym nearly every day, even after patrol. Your gym time only seemed to surprise them more, and after they told you about their gym schedule, you realised just how much time you spent in the gym, and the more you thought about it, the more you realised how lonely you were.

Kirishima seemed to catch on to your stress and smoothly changed the subject. After lunch, Bakugou drove you back to the agency, and Kirishima asked if you wanted to go to their place for drinks. “Sure, as long as I don’t have to carry you again,” you laughed. Kirishima turned and looked at you, his cheeks nearly as red as his hair. “Wait...you carried me?”.

Bakugou barked out a laugh. “Yeah shitty hair, she threw you over her shoulders and hauled your wasted ass back to the car.” Kirishima’s face somehow burned brighter and apologized profusely, but you waved it off. “Nah, it’s fine! Besides, if Bakugou wasn’t being such an ass I wouldn’t have had to carry you. I just got sick of trying to keep you standing upright while he snickered at me being short.” Bakugo scoffed. “Well you’re definitely not tall.” “I don’t need to be to kick your sorry ass.”

At that Bakugou went silent and Kirishima exploded in a fit of laughter. “Put a sock in it shitty hair! And you!” Bakugou glared at you in the rearview mirror, “I’m gonna beat your stubby ass next time!” You looked at him with a smirk and a raised eyebrow. “Is that a challenge, Ground Zero?” He growled at the mention of his hero name. “Yeah short stack, it’s a fucking challenge.”

Soon the car parked in the parking garage, and you all went up to their shared apartment. It was spacious, and very modern. Bakugou pointed out the bathroom and went to the kitchen to grab three bottles of beer. The three of you settled into the living room and the conversation went just like lunch did. Most of the questions were directed at you, and you answered honestly. 

The questions were generic and friendly, what you like to do in your spare time (besides going to the gym), your favorite foods, colors, your likes and dislikes, your pet peeves. After the first round of questioning you’d only got through one bottle of beer. “Hey, what other kinds of alcohol you got?” you questioned Bakugou. He got up and listed his menu from the kitchen. You asked him for a glass of the cream liquor, and he returned with a glass filled with the liquid. 

After hours of aimless conversation and a few more glasses, you found yourself slowing as the alcohol permeated your system. That was your signal to ask for a snack and water, and you stopped your intake of alcohol. Bakugou caught on to your self cut-off. “You don’t need to limit yourself. We’ve got a spare room if you need to stay the night, and if you need to call in tomorrow the agency has plenty of people to take over your patrol.” His statement shocked you, and you looked at him like he was crazy.

He spoke again, “If you’re cautious about sharing a place with two guys, Kiri’s nearly wasted already, he can’t do shit, and if I were stupid enough to do anything I’m sure you’d kick my ass before I got within a foot of you. As for tomorrow, both of us are off, and like I said, the agency is not short-staffed. And i’ve got meds if you’re worried about a hangover, and I don’t mind lending you clothes if you need them.”

You were stunned. Completely and utterly bewildered. But he made good points, so you decided to take up his offer to spend the night. “You know what, I’ll stay. But I'm gonna slow down with the alcohol, because hangovers are a bitch to deal with even with painkillers.” And with that, the three of you continued talking. Soon Kirishima passed out and Bakugou hauled him into his room. Surprisingly enough, when he came back out he actually engaged the conversation.

He asked about your fighting style, how you developed it, how long you trained. Most of his questioning was about your physical strength and tenacity, nothing personal. But then he asked why you spent so much of your time in the gym instead of with friends. And you answered honestly and bluntly, probably mostly because of the alcohol. “To be honest, I’m not much of a social butterfly. I don’t really have friends, because I don’t ‘make friends’ with people. In fact, you could call me antisocial. I don’t really like talking to people. I don’t speak unless spoken to or unless speaking is necessary.”

And he only dove deeper. “Why not? The world too scary from down there?” he teased. You laughed darkly at the comment, choosing to drain your glass of alcohol in favor of answering the implied question. He looked at you and raised an eyebrow. “What is it?”

“What is what?”

“You avoided the question.”

“Well it wasn’t really a question, just a jab at my height again”

“Yeah, and you didn’t jab back.”

You huff, “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“I think I know exactly what the fuck I’m talking about.”

“Just drop it Bakugou.”

“I won’t drop it. Not until you give me some kind of answer.”

“Are you always this insensitive or is it just the alcohol?”

“Spill it (y/l/n).”

“Ugh fine! But I’m not giving you any details.” You crack your knuckles, take a deep breath, and a long drink of water before you talk again. “I used to like making friends. But all the friends I made turned out to be liars and fakes. I was used. A lot. After a while I finally had enough, so I stopped approaching people. I decided if people want to be in my life they can approach me. I got good at reading people, and I shut them out fast if they weren’t good for me.” You sighed, praying that was enough to sate Bakugou’s drunken curiosity. It wasn’t.

“And if people approached you with the intention of using you? If you read them wrong?” he pried. Screw it. You already spilled this much right? Might as well get it out. “I got really good at pretty bad things. I don’t usually read wrong, because I’m suspicious of everyone that walks into my life.” Internally, you prayed that was enough for him. “What kinds of bad things?” Well that’s unfortunate.

“Things like eavesdropping. Spying. Hiding. Manipulation. Lying. Deceit. Long story short, I have trust issues. It’s easier to keep people at arm’s distance than make friends that could hurt you.” At that, Bakugou goes quiet, his eyes studying your face. And you stare back at him, waiting for the judgement that comes with opening up to people. Waiting for the ‘maybe you should openup more’ and ‘just give people a chance’. But his answer is unexpected. His face softens ever so slightly as his eyes lock onto yours, his voice low, soft and somewhat comforting. “Sounds rough.” You look away, trying to keep your breathing steady, not giving tears the chance to fall, “I’m gonna turn in. Good night, Bakugou.”

Moving quickly, you disappear into the spare room and curl up into the bed sheets. Why the hell are you crying? You’d talked about this before. So why now, of all times, are you suddenly sobbing into your hoodie, clinging to it like your lifeline? You try your best to keep quiet, hoping the only other person awake doesn’t hear you. You don’t know how long it’s been, but you hear the door handle turn, and you freeze, closing your eyes and steadying your breath, going completely silent in mock-sleep. It was a technique you’d perfected long ago, turning off your emotionsin order to avoid confrontation.

You hear heavy footsteps, knowing who it is that just stepped in. He was the only other one still awake. You feel the bed behind you dip, and strong arms curl around you and turn your body, burying your face into Bakugou’s solid chest. His deep voice rumbles softly in your ear. “I know you’re not sleeping shorty. I listened through the door and heard you crying. Just let it out.” And before you can stop them, the tears you’d willed to disappear begin to pour down your face. So you sob into his chest, his arms tightening around you as your entire body shakes.

Soon you’re drifting into sleep, your body giving in to exhaustion. You’re in a deep sleep, and Bakugou stays there, holding you, until the last hiccups subside. He leans away to look down at you, and brushes strands of hair away from your face. “How long has it been since you’ve cried, princess? How long since you bottled up those emotions inside you?” He questions your sleeping figure. He presses a soft kiss into your forehead, gets up and tucks you under the blanket before silently leaving the room and going to bed.

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When you wake up, your eyelids are heavy and swollen, making it hard to open them. You tenderly massage them open, remembering the reason they’re so puffy and sore. Despite the discomfort of your eyes, you feel refreshed and light, a weight lifted off your chest that you didn’t know was there in the first place. No, it was more like it’s been there for so long you’d gotten used to the pressure. Slowly, you sit up and blink away sleep.

You check the clock and it’s 8 am, a couple hours later than you normally get up. At the foot of your bed is a set of folded clothes. You quickly change out of the clothes you slept in, and into the t-shirt and sweatpants that you assumed were Bakugou’s. As expected, they’re giant on you, but they’re comfortable, and they smell like Bakug-- NO. Stop. You shake the thought out of your head as quickly as it came and go out to see if either of the guys are up.

You quickly get your answer when you see Kirishima lounging -- freaking SHIRTLESS -- on the couch. Talk about eye candy, damn. Like sure, his hero costume doesn’t exactly hide anything, but it’s different when he’s laying across a couch in nothing but gray sweatpants. Again, you clear the thoughts before they screw you over, and greet him. “Hey (y/l/n) how’d you sleep?” “Pretty good, thanks. I’m surprised you’re up so early Kiri.” He laughs at the observation, “Yeah. Bakugou got me up a little while ago and I couldn’t go back to sleep.” Yeah, that makes sense. You nod and make your way into the kitchen, and as expected, Bakugo is there.

“Good morning Bakugou,” you greet him. “Morning shorty. How’d you sleep?” You answer with the same reply you gave Kirishima a few seconds ago. You lowered your voice a little and leaned slightly toward him, “Thank you, by the way. For last night. I really needed that.” He just nods, focusing his attention to the fridge to find breakfast. Satisfied with that, you turn and head back to the couch and chill with Kirishima until Bakugou calls you to the table to eat.

You ask them what they do on their days off, and today the plan was just to stay in and lounge around the house, not doing much of anything and just relaxing. So, that’s what you did. As the hours passed, you found yourself liking the company of the two men, despite their imposing size. You didn’t feel small with them. But the question lingering at the back of your mind was why? Why were you so comfortable around them?

Thoughts buzzed around in your head like a hurricane, mixing with the doubt that they were in any way comfortable with you, and the fear that they were only using you for what men always seem to want. Soon you were telling yourself all the bad scenarios that would end in them leaving you all alone again. You didn’t even know them all that well, but you had become attached and were already bracing yourself for the inevitable loss of the two. The memory of crying to Bakugou last night swirled into your mind and wouldn’t disappear.

You were spiraling into a panic like you always did when people got close. But it was hidden, suppressed, contained. Whenever you panicked it never showed, the only telltale sign being your sudden need to scratch the soft flesh on the inside of your elbow. You hadn’t scratched in so long that any previous wounds had completely healed over, the only evidence left were small patches of discoloration, only evident if you stare long enough. That was about to change as your nails dug furiously while you stared off into space.

Kirishima was the first to snap you out of your spiral, grabbing your wrists and shaking you out, calling your name frantically. Your senses began to drift back, and the next thing you noticed was the sting on your forearms and the light stain of blood on your nails and fingertips. Your eyes drifted from your wrist up to your inner elbow, and you winced at the sight of blood seeping out of the shredded welts. It looked like it should have hurt more than it did.

“Bakugou! Get the first aid kit from the bathroom! (y/l/n)’s bleeding!” Kirishima called out to him. You heard quick heavy stomps and a curse from the blonde before he came over to examine your arms. He looked at you, and you looked back at him, still dazed from your inner turmoil. He knew from that look you were out of it. Instead he questioned the redhead to ask what had happened while he was in the kitchen figuring out what to make for lunch.

“I don’t know! I was watching tv and when I turned to ask her something she was staring off into space and scratching at her arms! She was bleeding before I even turned and I grabbed her before it could get worse.” Bakugou clenched his jaw and went to get a wet washcloth to clean up the blood. You were watching this all unfold before you, still not quite attached to reality. When he returned, he put the cloth on his lap and grabbed your face in his hands, stroking your cheeks with calloused thumbs. He called your voice, attempting to ground you, and didn’t stop until you finally took a few quick breaths and blinked, answering him with a small ‘sorry’.

He grabbed your wrists, which Kirishima had already released, and spoke to you in a hushed tone, but still strong and intense. “(y/l/n) I need you to listen to me. Are you allergic to anything? Anything at all?” It took a few moments for you to regain your mental balance, but you shook your head. “No. Nothing.” He let out a soft breath and with that he began to clean and dress your arms, wiping away blood and cleaning your fingers and nails in silent concentration.

By the time the entire ordeal was over, the different sensations from the sting of the alcohol wipes to the cool ointment and the soft gauze had grounded you completely. As Bakugou went to put the first aid kit away, Kirishima reached out and gripped your shoulders, looking over your face and into your eyes with tender concern. “You okay little pebble?” He moved his large hands so they rested at the sides of your neck, his thumbs gently brushing at your jaw.

You blush lightly at the endearing nickname and the new sensation of his hands. Leaning slightly into one of his palms, you nod. “Yeah, I’m okay. I don’t really wanna talk about it, but I’ll be just fine. I just got distracted.” He looked at you with a face that said he didn’t believe your excuse, but he’d drop the subject because you asked him to. Letting his hand release you, he gives you a toothy, mischievous grin. He leans in closer to you and nearly whispers, like he was about to reveal the world’s biggest scandal.

“That was the most gentle I’ve ever seen Bakugou. Thanks for bringing that side out of him,” he says, flashing another smile. You giggle a little at the thought of the explosive male being gentle, not quite believing it if you hadn’t been subject to it. Then you remembered why he’d been there, tending to the wounds you’d subconsciously inflicted on yourself. Your eyebrows knitted together lightly, remembering the spiral and being shaken out of it by a panicked Kirishima. When Bakugou came back, you grabbed one of their hands in each of yours.

“I’m sorry for worrying you,” you say softly. After a few moments of silence, you decided you owed them an explanation of some kind. “And thank you for catching me. The scratching is a nervous habit when I’m stressed. I thought I got rid of it, but obviously I haven’t. It’s been a long time since it happened last, and it was triggered by my own drifting thoughts. It’s purely subconscious and I don’t realize what I’m doing until the pain becomes too unbearable and snaps me back to reality.”

By the end of your explanation, the two were looking at you with concern and understanding. Kirishima gently smiled, and Bakugou’s features relaxed, when you squeezed their hands appreciatively. The comfortable silence was suddenly broken by a low growl. You laughed at the comedic timing of your stomach and glanced at the clock. It was just after 12:30, and Bakugou got up to go make lunch. After eating you asked to wash your clothes, and asked to use the shower. Kirishima got you a spare towel and plastic wrap to cover your newly dressed forearms. Five minutes under the hot water and you were already feeling suffocated. The steam clouded your lungs, making it harder and harder to breathe.

You knew you had a problem with hot water. You always have. Jacuzzis were never relaxing for you, and you loved the cool water of the ocean the deeper you dove toward inky blackness. You turned the handle in the shower, letting the water turn cold. Your body shivered slightly from the sudden temperature change, but quickly relaxed as the cold water washed away all the stress from a few hours ago.

When you had finished up you went to go relax on the couch again, settling into the space between the two. Now with your mind clear, you began to wonder something that you probably should have wondered a while ago. How tall were they, really? They stood over a foot taller than you, so they had to be at least 6 feet tall. You looked from one to the other, your head swiveling back and forth, before you decided to just ask them.

Bakugou barked out a deep laugh, “Why you wanna know shorty? Finally realizing how scary we look from down there?” You rolled your eyes at him, but he answered anyway. “I’m 6 foot 4 (193 cm).” Kirishima looked down at you and beamed, “I’m 6 foot 6 (198 cm).” Bakugou scoffed, and you giggled at the blonde getting upset over height. Suddenly you bounced up from the couch and turned to the two, barely containing the thought that suddenly popped into your mind. Out of the two, the redhead seemed like the more likely to carry out your request, so you turned to Kirishima with wide excited eyes and a lopsided grin like a kid in a candy store.

“Can you carry me?!” you blurted out a little too loud. Kirishima blushed hard, and then you realized how ridiculous the request sounded and rushed to explain. “Sorry! That sounded weird right? I just wanna know what life looks like from that high up! I’m only 5 feet tall so…” you rambled a little before Kirishima laughed and stood up. “Sure little pebble.” He turned you around and squatted down, put his left arm around your waist and right arm against your thighs just above your knees and told you to lean back and sit on his arm. 

Once you were seated snugly, your back pressed against his chest, he stood up and you gasped a little from the new angle. The floor looked so far away, and you knew that if Kirishima decided to hold you by your armpits your feet would dangle a foot from the floor. Bakugou looked up at you from the couch and scoffed. “Alright shitty hair, put her down before you drop her and she breaks her legs from the fall.” Your hilariously rebellious brain took that as a challenge. You smirked at Bakugou, his eyes daring you to do exactly what you were thinking. But before you could move he looked at the redhead behind you, and the arm around your waist tightened as he reached to grab his right bicep. He slightly activated his quirk, locking you in place. 

“Aw, c’mon! You’re no fun! I’ve jumped from buildings before and landed perfectly fine!” You whined as you squirmed in Kirishima’s arms. Both of them laughed at your struggle, and once again, your brain instantly settled on ‘challenge accepted’. You quickly surveyed your surroundings, going about the best way to escape Red Riot without damaging any of the heroes’ property.

Before either of them could react, you materialized quirk-cancelling handcuffs and clasped one side around Kirishima's left wrist. The instant it went into effect, you brought your foot up and back down into the redhead’s stomach just hard enough for his grip on you to loosen up. When his right arm dropped to grab his abdomen, you slipped down along his body, grabbed the free cuff on your way down and snapped it around the leg of the coffee table, Kirishima landing flat on his ass with an ‘oof’.

Once again, Bakugou just stared in shock. You crossed your arms and smirked at him, “What was that about dropping me, Bakugou?” He was silent. Kirishima chuckled from his spot on the ground. “Damn, you’re a sneaky one little pebble.” You turned back around and took a deep bow. You materialized the cuff’s key and released him, storing them back in your quirk’s storage space. Finally recovering from his shock, Bakugou looked at the time and said, “Alright, short stack. Let’s go spar.” You turned to him and spoke what your brain had thought only moments before. “Challenge accepted.”

[myelocin]

11:11 and we’re right where we need to be | captains

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*how your 11:11s are spent with: sawamura daichi, ushijima wakatoshi, bokuto koutarou, kuroo tetsurou, shinsuke kita, terushima yuuji, & oikawa tooru *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

*click keep reading bc everyone else’s is posted fully :D

-

sawamura daichi: life as parents has never been too tough of a job for neither you or daichi considering your son  had always been on the more mature side. the alarm clock that’s usually yelling at you to wake up is left without a schedule for the day so when the two of you are in that stage where you’re sort of awake, but too lazy to do anything about it—the numbers are flipping to 10:58. the curtains in your room are closed, but not enough so a little light is leaking from the window’s bottom right corner. even with the poor lighting in the room, it’s enough for you to trace the outline of daichi’s profile beside you. you know he’s awake because when you wrap one hand around his middle and squeeze the spot he’s ticklish at, a smile is quirking in the corner of his lips and he’s laughing at you to knock it off. you’re peeking at the clock that’s still showing 11:08 on the screen when you finally decide to sit up and stretch, poking daichi in the chest along with whispers of “get uuuupppp,” your voice a little hoarse from the lack of use. he groans and pulls you back down on top of his chest in time with his phone ringing signaling a call from suga. you’re laid back down and the clock on his phone changes to 11:11 just in time with your son’s face lighting up the screen. he’s waving at you with an ice cream cone carefully balanced in his other hand. daichi’s next to you still rubbing the sleep out of his eyes but he shoots a smile to the camera when your son starts talking about his day and how much fun he was having staying at his uncle suga’s house in the city for the weekend.

ushijima wakatoshi: you and your 6 year old daughter, asami, are waiting in the kitchen preparing lunch because the two of you are expecting him to be home early from practice that day. you’re standing next to her mixing the batter in the bowl while she’s standing on a chair next to you, holding the mixing bowl still while talking about the things her teacher made her class do in class the day before. asami is much like you, you realize because you recall your mother telling you stories from your childhood about how you always liked to tell her how your day in school went. the clock on the oven tells you it’s 11:11 when you hear the front door open then close, with wakatoshi’s voice booming his “Tadaima” in the background. your daughter is squealing and instantly leaping off the table, yelling her “Okaeri papa!” while she’s running to greet him at the door. you’re wiping your hands on your apron when you hear her yell out, “mama! come heeeeeeere!” from the living room. when you make your way to your husband and daughter, she’s sitting on the ground with holding the very same cat she’s been begging the two of you to get her ever since she saw it at the adoption center three weeks ago. you open your mouth to react but wakatoshi’s giving you a look that looks like it’s he’s stuck between an apology or a plead, so you sigh and smile. wakatoshi leans towards you to kiss your cheek and you tell him “tadaima,” with a look to tell him you’ll be speaking to him later. (though ultimately you decide to keep the cat because asami falls asleep that night with the cat snug between her arms. wakatoshi is teasingly telling you an “i told you so” and you can’t help but think that asami resembles her father in the way how the both of them have you completely wrapped between their fingers.)

bokuto koutarou: it’s a wednesday when your sister drops off your twin nephews at the apartment you and bokuto share because two days prior to today, he had gladly offered the both of your services to babysit your twin nephews for the day. you suppose it couldn’t have been too bad of an idea because the entire morning the three of them: bokuto, nephew a, and nephew b, have been doing nothing but run around and yell incoherent things as they took turns being lifted up by bokuto. you guessed it must have been close to lunch time when the three of them come in looking at you with a sheepish grin followed by an audible grumble of the stomach. nephew b decides it was time to let you know that his diaper was feeling a little full so as you see bokuto lift nephew a by the arms and quickly walk to the kitchen, you snort, close your book, and usher nephew b into the washroom to freshen up. by the time you’ve finished and walk into the kitchen with nephew b holding your hand, bokuto’s already looking at you with the smile he wears when he’s super proud of what he did. and you’re kind of smiling in a really fond way because what you see in front of you is the leftover cake akaashi brought the two of you last week with some extra candles he luckily found stuck on top. nephew a is waving over his twin brother so he can too, “blow out the candles uncle bokuto got for us.” you’re smiling along with the two of them, because in a way it’s kind of cute, so when you pull your phone out to record a little video of the two of them clapping along to bokuto singing “happy birthday” jokingly beside them—the digital watch on the notification bar changes to 11:11 right when the song finishes and they’re blowing out the candles. bokuto’s still smiling at you in the way that’s letting you know he’s super proud of his idea, but because you guess wishes during 11:11 were in order—his idea wasn’t so bad after all.

kuroo tetsurou: after your daughter heard that her papa had to be at work today and couldn’t make it to the tea party they’d been planning for a week now, it surprises you when she’s asking to bring him a bento box at work instead of sulking about the cancelled plan. she’s holding the bento box she helped you make tightly in her hands in the car ride on the way to tetsurou’s office, and she’s holding it with the same caution even as the two of you are riding the elevator and walking to his office. your wristwatch points to 11:11 so you decide it must be a safe time to open the door to his office after an okay signal from his assistant outside and a light knock to his door. he’s sitting in his office, his suit crisp and pressed perfectly and you could almost snort in laughter when you see the state of his hair ruffled back to its usual bedheaded state even though he gelled it to perfection earlier this morning. your daughter’s shrieking as she runs to greet him and promptly place the bento on his hands. tetsurou shoots you a wink and a smile when you tell him about how hard she worked on making the bento for him before he’s looking at her, his expression one of feigned shock as he says, “wow! my princess made this?? for me??” and you’re smiling along to their interaction because your daughter has stars in her eyes because her papa who she looks up to so so much is praising her for her hard work this morning. you don’t really think much of the time when your husband has her seated on his chair while he pulled out a stool to sit next to her letting her feed him the contents of the bento she proudly helped you make as he listens to her tell him about the dish. (you know that he knows it’s just egg but the way he’s nodding along to her explanation as if it’s the most interesting thing in the world has your heart feeling light, so you don’t comment.)

shinsuke kita: the weather outside isn’t too brutal that day and since the both of you practically enjoy the outdoors, kita decides to join you for harvesting some fruits that’s good and ripe from the garden in the backyard. he compliments you on the yellow sundress you chose to wear that day and you smile as you peck him on his cheek while saying your own compliments about how good he looks with the farmer’s tan he’s been getting. kita’s crouched down next to you, positioning himself in a way so that the sun isn’t beating down too hard on your face; he realizes you don’t really enjoy that because the last time it happened you were scrunching your nose and squeezing your eyes like it hurt a lot. when the sun isn’t bothering you as much, he’s back to back with you when the two of you are crouched over looking for the ripe strawberries to pick, and he’s telling you a story osamu told him when he visited him in the city the day before. you’re laughing along and a clock from inside the house clicks to 11:11 when the basket you have beside you is half full and you’re closing your eyes when a nice breeze floats in because you’re thinking about how nice this is. you don’t really keep track of the time because you’re outside and all that matters at the moment is how happy and smiling kita looks when he turns to face you and shoots you a smile as warm as the sun hitting your bare shoulders. he’s asking you “what should we make for lunch?” and you shrug telling him whatever he wants as long as you get to make your strawberry jam for later. it’s still 11:11 and you suppose that it would have been a little funny if you actually knew the time because at the right in that moment as kita belts out a laugh and kisses your cheek, you feel like all your wishes have manifested to real life in the form of your little garden by the house you share with the one you love the most.

terushima yuuji: he’s at work but you guessed he must be taking his lunch break a little earlier because when he calls and the digital clock tells you it’s only 11:11, you’re still seated in the living room clicking through different channels while yuuji is waving his hello at you while opening the bento box he brought with him to work. he’s telling you how good your cooking is while you’re only half paying attention to what he’s saying because his story is getting a little too scattered for you to actively pay attention to. though, you’re laughing when he starts to complain about this one client that came in and demanded to get his jet black hair to platinum blonde in a day with minimal damage. yuuji’s getting a little more animated, and because you love him and appreciate the stories he shares with you—you click off the tv and lay on the couch staring face to face with him from your phone as he continues to rant about a couple other “nightmare clients,” as he dubbed them. you’re looking at him stuffing his mouth full of the food you prepared for him and smiling because even though so many years have passed since your high school years, you’re elated to see him smile and look at life with the same positivity as he always had. a couple more piercings had been added to his face and his hair may be some shades lighter than how he kept it from before but he’s rolling his eyes and barking out laughter in the way that has you feeling like you’re listening to him rant about the team they played against that wasn’t all too much fun. when his coworker is calling for him to hurry up, you’re still smiling while lazily bidding him a goodbye wave because like in high school, he’s still giving you kissy faces along with enthusiastic waves as he shuts off the call.

oikawa tooru: in hindsight, iwaizumi was right—you should have left him at home when you went grocery shopping that day. the two of you are back in japan to visit some family and friends for the summer and while iwaizumi and the others had put the two of you on grocery run duty, you should have remembered how excited tooru is to buy all the food he missed while living in argentina. you’re walking next to him with your hands crossed while he’s steering the cart in the completely opposite direction of where all the things iwaizumi’s grocery list was located in. tooru’s laughing at you telling him to get the things first before stacking up on all the snacks you know he’s going to get but nods his head and lets you steer the cart anyway. you’re choosing between which watermelon to get when tooru’s on the phone next to you saying, “iwa-chan, (y/n) and i are almost done, can’t you just wait? it’s only 11:11 to early for lunch.” and when you plop the chosen watermelon in the basket, tooru is giving you a thumbs up after briefly inspecting the watermelon and then continuing to tell iwaizumi, “iwa-chan stop yelling, it’s 11:11 make a wish!” and you’re finally laughing along because you could already imagine the vein popping out on iwaizumi’s forehead on the other end of the line. tooru is walking next to you shooting you a smile every time he drops a familiar snack in the cart and tells you, “feels like we’re in high school again right?” while you smile at the sentiment of the memory and laugh, “yeah except we couldn’t afford to grab everything off the shelf so at least now we can thank your pro career for this.” tooru’s laughing along with you as the two of you walk down the familiar aisles you two frequented many years back. “so are you finally admitting you’re with me just for the money?” he jokes and you give an exaggerated “yes,” before pecking cheeks and continuing with, “i’m with you because you’re like the stray cat i can’t get to leave me alone but i ultimately end up loving anyway.” (you’re walking ahead of him and you can hear him feign a gasp behind you but you suppose banter like this is one of the many reasons why you’re with tooru in the first place.)

[resinatingbeauty]

In Memory of The Best Friend I Ever Had - RIP Shadow (assumed)- 4/30/2021

Shadow showed up at my parents house where I lived at the time, one night back in 2016. I had just gotten home from working at a local country club late in the evening, tired, and physically burnt out from working 40+ hours a week on top of going to college for my associates degree. I saw something pass by the driveway out of the corner of my eye. Something massively fluffy, tail straight up in the air, trotting along. There are many feral cat colonies in this town and many cat owners that lived on that street. Needless to say, I didn't expect this one to whip back around and start chirping at me, rubbing my legs after I called to her.

My mother was adamant when my last two cats had past 8 or so years prior that she wasn't looking for any more pets. My mom loves animals, but she also loves her home and was thinking about doing renovations before adopting any new companions. I knew I was in trouble when this cat came to me with nothing but affection, clearly malnourished, but strangely well groomed. I knew she had to be owned by someone, I had no idea who.

That night I went inside after spending some time enjoying her company. At the time, I was calling 'Charlemange'' as a play on 'Charlemagne'. I had been taking a medieval humanities course at the time and the name seemed fitting enough considering how much scraggly fur she had. Huge paws. Big, fluffy tail and mane. I had never seen a cat so gorgeous around the area. All the feral cats are short hairs, reinforcing my notion that she had to be someone's pet.

I watched through the window slit of the front door as Charlemange played with the moths and other bugs that were attracted to the lamp post my parents have at the end of the driveway and regretted leaving her out there.

I simply thought that Charlemange would return home where she belonged. When I went out to my back screened in patio, whom do you think was waiting for me? Meowing? Charlemange. To my mother's horror, she would launch herself at the screen and hang there to get our attention. Imagine this big ass cat hanging from your screened in porch you've been trying to renovate by all her claws.

She was persistent and Charlemange NEVER returned home, wherever home was.

Eventually, I sealed the deal, low key giving her a can of tuna. Now you see how Shadow went from Charlemange to Shadow.

For about a month, all I had to do was make a high pitched noise and Shadow would come out of wherever brush she was stalking, running and talking until she found me. One evening, I went to give her her dinner, and she shot in the front door.

Mortified, I watched as she scooted right into the one place that I dreaded her to go. My parent's room. That night, as a 20 something, I received a lecture from my father about how my mother felt about pets. 'She isn't a kitten, you know,' he said, 'thats a grown cat. Someone else's cat.'

I just listened and acknowledged what he was saying. I knew there was no point trying to explain what exactly happened. When my dad got done going off on the back porch and went back in to bed, I heard a meow from the patio door. Shadow had been standing at the door, waiting for him to leave , almost like she was saying, 'Hey, I'm really sorry about that, sis,'

Shadow would go on to live in or around the property for nearly a month. I made an effort to find her owners and return her to no avail. Eventually, a single mom I had been working as a private tutor for as a side hustle agreed that she would take Shadow. This would only last for a few months. The family had another cat, Karma, whom had been declawed (I abhor this) and two little girls who had no respect for animals (especially cats) because of this. I knew how the oldest handled Karma and my only solace in handing Shadow over was that I knew she wouldn't be hit by a car, would be fed, loved to a degree, and would scratch the shit out of them if they fucked up.

Their mother ended up calling me, giving me money to bring Shadow in to the humane society, saying she was a wonderful cat, just not the best fit for the girls. I could only imagine what Shadow went through at that house, because the time there changed her. The collar I had on her was returned to me snapped in two. It looked like it had been pulled off. I cringed thinking about it and never put another collar back on that cat. At the time, a woman had been busted hoarding 100+ cats that had all been relinquished to the humane society and local rescues. The humane society's solution for most was euthanasia and I wasn't about that for Shadow. Back to my backyard she went.

Eventually, Shadow won over my mother and my father, especially my father, whom you would never think would love that cat so much. When my mother brought Shadow to the vet, we were surprised to find she had a chip in her ear registered to someone on our block. As per protocol, animal control was sent out to investigate. The woman told animal control that she didn't want the cat. All she did was run away. Shadow's real name was Holly, but she was still Shadow to me.

Shadow became the best friend I ever knew. Not a night went by where she wasn't under my covers sharing the pillow with me, laying stretched out on her back or side as the little spoon. If she wasn't in my bed, she would sit at the door to the bedroom, guarding me or in a chair next to me, always watching. I could do no wrong in that cat's eyes. She was the highlight of my day when I got home from every crappy job I had since. A furry coat to soak up the tears shed during long nights of insomnia and depression. An inspiration for my art and spirituality. My familiar and kindred spirit. If I would talk to her, she would respond with chirps and meows like she knew exactly what I was saying. If someone else was in the room giving her attention and I walked in, she would perk up and run toward me like they never existed. Shadow was the second cat that chose me. I have never chosen a cat from a shelter or adoption / rescue facility. This is how I acquired both my childhood furry friend and Shadow.

It all began when I noticed Shadow's fur was sticky and stiff, like she had been sitting in honey. Just the end of her tail at first. She always had this silly habit of sitting in her food tray, so I cleaned it and her and thought nothing of it until the drooling started.

Shadow had always been a drooler, but not to this extent. Drool bubbles would pop from her left lip. One night, when I came home from work before I started my leave to focus on my Etsy shop, I was horrified to find her sitting on the couch with a bloody chin. Now, there wasn't a large amount of blood, but this alarmed me significantly. It was time to see a vet, like, yesterday. Thankfully, my shop sales had been great and I didn't have to fret over the bill- I was ready to pay whatever it was to make her feel better.

The vet confirmed what I knew deep down and didn't want to acknowledge because the thought was just too painful. Cancer. No chance of survival even if I wanted to go through the hell of treatment, which involved removal of the tongue and jaw. I brought Shadow home and cried, hoping for the best -that the antibiotic would work. The vet said she had been wrong before, it could just be an abscess and it would heal. Shadow was still doing cat things. Shadow was still my best friend, she still loved me, she was still trying to cuddle me at night and surrounding me with the reminder of death in the odor of her breath.

Yesterday, I brought Shadow in to be put to sleep. The decision was made when I looked up from making a rune set and saw puddles of blood on the floor, a stream of it from her face as she was sitting in the window sill. I have never felt so heartbroken. Not even at a family member's funeral. I asked to bring her home, burying her under the tree where I buried my last cat and childhood familiar, Elmo. When I saw the standard biohazard bag peeking up through the dirt, I knew that was where she belonged. With her sister. Yesterday, my heart was buried with that cat. Eleven years was not long enough but each one filled with so much love and happiness. I stood with her until the end. The only peace I feel is that I know that she is no longer hurting. I know she knew I loved her.

I miss you Shadow. To those of you who have recently lost your best friend, your familiar or the love of your life, my heart goes out to you. I hope that someone else can read this and share my pain. I understand that there was nothing I could do but love her. Love your pets. Love them as long and as well as you can- nothing is immortal. We accept this when we commit to caring for our (mostly) furry (sometimes scaly or feathery) friends. This doesn't mean that it hurts any less when we lose them.

To my customers, who have been patiently and diligently awaiting orders while Etsy forced hiatus on my shop, preventing sales during this crisis in addition to my sister in law's wedding and me poking my own eye out back and February- you all are really the best turn of luck I've had. You do not know how much I appreciate you allowing me the time to spend these last few precious moments with her. It truly means the world to me and I hope at the end you receive something worth your time and patience. I have not forsaken fulfillment, and orders are still shipping. Unfortunately, I NEED to reopen and accept new orders, as Etsy is demanding payment for $600 worth of shipping labels. My shop is still appearing as in hiatus at the moment, but I ask for all the support my friends, supporters and followers can offer at this time as I essentially will be working for free when I reopen to pay these fees. Great, right?

If you are awaiting refunds, there is literally no money in the account associated with Etsy. However, as the funds become available, I will be processing refunds / cancellations. I'm sorry for the delays, I never thought I would say I found success at the worst possible time. I urge the rest of you- if you have a deadline for your order for the love of goddess TELL ME. I am getting a little frustrated with buyers (who are frustrated with me, understandably, but still, my item descriptions are clear about relaying deadlines) who are upset or complaining about meeting gift deadlines or other deadlines I literally had no idea about. I'm a decent psychic, but not perfect.

~ Samantha

(Owner/Designer/Creator blursedbaubles.etsy.com)

[xxfanfiction-emo-trinityxx]

Dec 24

Words: 1 941 Prompt from  @fanficy-prompts

You leant back against the counter of the empty coffee shop, adjusting the black apron which was tied around your waist. It was Christmas Eve, and since you were the only employee of the small coffee shop who did not have any big Christmas dinner plans, you had been given the last shift of the day, which tied you to the cozy, but now lonely shop until midnight. Then you could close up, and go home. Your family lived half way across the country, and this year there had not been enough money left for you to fly over for the holidays, so you had decided to stay here.

You wondered why you were even longing to go back home after this shift. What was waiting there for you except the halfheartedly decorated Christmas tree, and the now cold Chinese take-out from lunch? Your bed, with soft, cozy but cold blankets, no one to keep them warm while you were at work, no one to welcome you home, not even a cat who would cuddle with you when you sat down, or a fish who would completely ignore you. But the way it was, the flat was as empty as this shop, but less decorated. Well, Christmas this year officially sucked.

None the less, you automatically put on your customer smile and turned towards the door as you heard the bell ring. The artificial smile was immediately replaced by a real one though once you recognized the red-brown hair, and the icy gray eyes of one of your favorite regulars.

“Merry Christmas,” you smiled as Andy walked over to the counter, “The usual?”

He nodded, and strode over to a table in the corner next to the window. You furrowed your brows. Usually the tattooed drummer was quiet but cheerful, and always up for a little chat. Today seemed different though, and remembering that it was not the normal Christmas Eve tradition to go to a coffee shop, mind on your own, made you understand him better. After all you had not been in the best of moods either before he entered. And you could not expect to have the same effect on him as he had on you, considering you had grown quite fond of the man.

You prepared two cups of cappuccino with almond milk, one for him, one for you, and emptied a bag of vegan Christmas cookies that were on sale, onto a small plate before stepping out from behind the counter, and strode over to him.

Andy looked up, his gaze softening as he saw you, and even a smile tucking at his lips when you sat down opposite him. You pushed his cup over to him, and placed the plate with the cookies in the middle between the two of you.

“On the house,” you winked, making him finally smile properly.

The coffee shop was dimly lit, mostly relying on the many candles that were spread over the tables and the atmospheric lighting across the counter.

“Sooo…” you dragged out the word, looking at Andy who took a sip from his coffee, “what brings you here?”

He sighed quietly and shrugged.

“Family dinner spontaneously got canceled because my dad broke his ankle, and I got nowhere to be really,” he answered.

“So you decide to go to a coffee shop of all places,” you asked, raising your eyebrows at him.

“I was lonely,” he defended, “and I was kind of hoping you would be the cursed one to do this shift.”

You smiled at his confession which had made him look away in embarrassment.

“Since I got no Christmas party to attend to either, and sitting here with you is a lot better than sitting at home on my own, I doubt this shift is really cursed,” you joked, before quickly taking a sip of your hot beverage as well, hoping to play over the fact that you had been a lot more confident with your words than you felt. It had not been a lie, no, not at all, but usually you were not one to say these things out loud.

Andy did not seem to mind, because he only smiled softly.

With him as company time passed quickly, and the conversation you were having made you almost forget how sad your empty apartment would seem when you returned home. He was the only customer over the entire evening, the city seemed like a ghost town, not a single person walked past the shop windows, and only one car sped down the road with howling motor. It felt like the two of you were in your own little, private bubble, surrounded by the warm glow of candles, and the rich smell of ground coffee with cinnamon. There was lots of laughing, jokes, funny stories, sometimes even the one or the other shared painful memory, but tonight it seemed alright, tonight it was okay to share these things, to talk more than usual, to open up to one another, to lay bare your hearts.

Honestly you had no recollection when, how or why Andy had taken hold of your hand, but it did not matter. His tattooed hands were wrapped around your cold fingers, and it felt like your skin was sucking up every last drop of his warmth that was possible. Your chin was resting in your free hand, supported by your elbow resting against the table, and Andy was leaning over the table as well. Only a few inches were between your faces, and your talking had died down to a whisper, which slowly subsided after hours, leaving you to stare at each other.

You had never looked into anyone’s eyes for as long as you were looking into Andy’s now. Every detail of his face seemed to burn itself permanently into your memory, and if you had not been in love with the drummer before he entered the shop this evening, you sure as hell were now. Sometimes you had to remind yourself that breathing was an, admittedly annoying, but necessary thing to do, too engulfed were you by Andy’s eyes, which seemed to see right through you, into the bottom of your soul.

You did not know what to think of this, but then again you were not properly thinking at all anyway. It felt like you were hypnotized by the man in front of you, and all you really could think of, was how beautiful and kind he was, and how lucky you were that you did not have to spend Christmas Eve entirely on you own.

Your trance was rudely interrupted by the small alarm clock on the counter that signaled the end of your shift.

“Seems like you made it,” Andy grinned, suddenly sitting back, drawing his hands away from yours, which left them colder than before.

“Seems like it,” you nodded, and got up.

“Want me to help you clean up,” he offered, but you shook your head.

“It’s fine, there’s not much left to do,” you explained while picking up the cups and the now empty plate, carrying everything behind the counter.

You somehow had expected Andy to leave, maybe say good night, or even hug you, but instead he waited patiently while you cleaned the dishes and the coffee machine. He even grabbed a towel and insisted on whipping the counter clean.

Once you were finished with all the cleaning and preparing the shop for opening in the morning, you grabbed your coat, and joined Andy at the door, where he had waited.

“Are you going home now,” Andy asked, holding the door open for you as you stepped outside, pulling your keys to the shop out of your pocket.

“Not much else to do, is there?”

With experienced fingers you looked the door.

You really did not want to return home. After having spent so much time with Andy, the empty flat seemed to repel you more than it had at the beginning of the evening. Did you really want to go back to the cold Chinese take-out, the halfheartedly decorated Christmas tree, the cold blankets? Secretly you hoped Andy would ask to join you home, to do something together, so you would not have to go home. Should you ask him to come home with you, invite him for another coffee, maybe tea or mulled wine? You were certain you would even face the embarrassment of rejection just to be sure you had tried everything possible. Your thoughts were interrupted by Andy.

“Anyone waiting for you,” he asked.

The question surprised you. You were sure you had mentioned that you were alone, without partner or any kind of family. Quickly you shook your head, wondering what he was up to.

A small smile spread over Andy’s face as he continued talking.

“Good,” he whispered as he stepped a little closer to you, taking your hands in his.

They were warm, just like you remembered them from when you had sat inside. His fingers were gentle as they closed around yours tenderly, not at all holding on too tightly. Your own hands responded without much consent of your brain, intertwining with his.

You wanted to say something, tell Andy how much you had enjoyed tonight, how thankful you were for his company, how much it meant to you that he had come to see you, but your voice failed you, no words coming out of your mouth.

Andy’s eyes were fixed on yours, and he seemed to sense your sudden muteness, but only smiled a little, shaking his head.

You were not sure who had leant in, maybe both of you at the same time, but suddenly Andy and you were kissing underneath the lamp post in front of the coffee shop. It was slow and gentle, careful, almost scared, but so perfect, so warm and loving, and you felt like all the sadness of having to go back to your flat was melting away, all the worries were suddenly just gone. Andy was kissing you, and holding your hands, and it felt like this was all you had ever wanted.

When you broke away, cheeks and lips red, rigid breath from excitement, and eyes closed, you gently leant your forehead against Andy’s, not yet willing to give up the warmth and comfort he was radiating.

“Come back to my place,” he whispered, and you could tell he was nervous.

A smile tucked at your lips, and you nodded against his forehead.

“’d love to,” you answered, finally opening your eyes and meeting Andy’s grey ones, that shone with such happiness, that it warmed you all over again.

“Then let’s go,” he decided, letting go of your one hand so you could walk side by side.

You adjusted your grip on his fingers, shoving your now free hand into your coat pocket. Andy smiled and did the same, before he lead you down the street, past windows with Christmas decorations and past the square where a fir tree had been decorated extensively.

Quietly you sighed in contentment, and rested your head against Andy’s shoulder. The long day had exhausted you, and now that you even had someone by your side, tiredness started to spread through your body. You were glad to have taken the night shift for Christmas Eve, you realized; otherwise Andy and you would never have ended up here, together. You closed your eyes, allowing your feet to carry you blindly, and trusting Andy to safely lead the way. This Christmas had not at all been as lonely and sad as you had expected it to be.

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Huawei Honor 6 Plus with Featured Review

New Post has been published on http://thebestsellingreviews.com/huawei-honor-6-plus-featured-review/

Huawei Honor 6 Plus with Featured Review

Huawei’s successful Honor series received a handful of additions to its repertoire last year including the Honor 6 and Honor 6 Plus.  In the same month Huawei also launched the Honor 6 Plus, which features a nearly identical build and spec sheet as the Honor 6, just in a larger body.

Specs

The Huawei Honor 6 Plus doesn’t set the bar for any kind of bleeding edge specs, but it’s no slouch either.  Performance wise the Honor 6 Plus contends with most high-end phones that came out in 2014, with only later entries like the Galaxy Note 4 and Nexus 6 pulling ahead.  Powered by Huawei’s own Kirin 925 Octo-core processor, which is a slight bump up from the Kirin 920 in the Honor 6, as well as a new high-end standard 3GB and a larger 5.5-inch screen over the Honor 6, this phone is near the cream of the crop.

5.5-inch 1080p IPS LCD

HiSilicon Kirin 925 Octo-Core CPU (1.8GHz Cortex-A15 Quad-core, 1.3GHZ Cortex-A7 Quad-core)

Mali-T628 MP6 GPU

3 GB of RAM

16/32GB internal storage, microSD card support

3600 mAh Li-Po battery

Android 4.4.2, Emotion UI 3.0 Skin

Dual 8MP rear-facing cameras, Dual-LED flash

8MP front-facing camera

Dual-SIM support

150.5mm tall, 75.7mm wide, 7.5mm thin

165g

The Honor 6 Plus supports a wide range of spectrum that works throughout the world, but only up to 3G HSPA in most countries that aren’t China.  If your country’s LTE bands are on the list and your carrier uses the technology, the Honor 6 Plus supports LTE Cat-6 Carrier Aggregation.

2G: GSM 900/1800/1900MHz

3G: HSPA 850/900/1900/2100MHz

4G: LTE 1800/2100/2600MHz (Band 1, 3, 7, 38, 39, 40, 41)

Display

The display on the Honor 6 was already one of the better 1080p LCD displays I’ve ever seen, but the one packed in the Honor 6 Plus is even better. Ghosting is almost non-existent and isn’t noticeable in anything I tried, which is a marked improvement over the other LCD’s out there I’ve seen with good black levels.  The only issue here are the viewing angles, where light bleed from the sides of the device become obvious as you tilt the screen, but are completely unnoticeable when viewing straight on.

Hardware and Build

The build quality of the Honor 6 Plus feels largely the same as the Honor 6 before it, however this time around Huawei actually used metal for the sides of the device instead of the faux brushed-metal looking plastic.  This results in a higher quality feeling device, especially when it’s cooler and you can feel the cold metal against the sides of your hands.  The back is the same shiny plastic glass material and the same pattern underneath as the Honor 6 has, which gives it a bit of an elegant appearance.  Huawei kept the unique 3-sided trim around the device where both sides and the top of the phone feature a metal trim, but the bottom is a smooth rounded plastic.

Looking at the right side of the device you’ll find both volume rocker closest to the top of the device, the power button just under that, and both SIM card trays below the power button.  What’s really cool that Huawei did here was make two different sized SIM tray slots, so one fits a micro SIM and one fits a nano SIM.  On the top side of the device you’ll find an RF blaster for remote control of TV’s and other RF-controlled devices, with a noise-canceling mic to the left and a 3.5mm headset jack to the right.  The bottom side of the phone has a microUSB port nestled right in the middle of the device with another noise-cancelling mic to its left.

Moving onto the face of the device you’ll find no physical buttons at all, as the screen takes up the vast majority of the face.  Above the screen you’ll find the earpiece with the proximity and light sensors above it, and the 8mp front-facing camera to the left of the earpiece.  The back of the phone you’ll see the speaker on the bottom left, which features the same vertical dotted pattern as on the Honor 6.  The top left of the device holds something special, as the dual-LED flash sits alongside a dual-8MP camera setup.

Performance and Memory

Just as you would expect from a high-end Android device the Huawei Honor 6 Plus breezes through apps without issue.  Huawei’s EmotionUI is a sleek and powerful Android skin that’s got plenty of features and a low overhead, ensuring that your phone won’t choke on any performance-intensive task such as gaming, HD video or multitasking.  Benchmarks like AnTuTu show it at the top of its game, competing with the likes of the Xiaomi Mi4, OnePlus One and Meizu MX4 Pro without using the same chipset.  Gaming performance is phenomenal and handled everything I threw at it with ease.  The 1080p display delivers sharp, crisp visuals and the framerate never let me down even in demanding moments on visually intensive games.

Multitasking was just as much a joy to use as the rest of the phone.  Huawei uses a Recents button to make multitasking quick and easy, so bringing up the list of recently used and currently running apps is just a single software button press away.  Instead of the standard virtually scrolling list of apps with thumbnails Huawei uses a paginated interface that shows 4 large thumbnails of open apps on the screen, arranged in each of the four corners of the device.  Swiping left or right moves between pages, while swiping down locks and app in memory and swiping up closes the app.  This is a fantastic layout that’s different from stock Android but doesn’t change things in a negative way as Xiaomi’s MIUI does with its awful small row of icons.  Switching between apps was an instant affair, only taking any length of time because of the transition animations between windows.  I never saw any redraw or other symptom of poor RAM management the way I’ve seen on some other Android skins.  This means you won’t have to wait for the page to reload in the browser every time you reopen the app, as it stays in memory like it’s supposed to instead of being cleared out all the time.

Battery Life

Battery life was nothing short of spectacular in my testing.  With a 3,600mAh battery the Honor 6 Plus features a larger battery than the vast majority of phablets out there, and with a screen resolution of 1080p you’re absolutely guaranteed to get better battery life than with the available line of Quad-HD screen phones out there.  There was nothing I could do in normal use to kill the battery on the phone, from streaming music all day, watching YouTube videos, keeping the brightness on max and using the phone for chatting on Hangouts all day.  This thing just wouldn’t die, and that’s a great thing.  I’d wager you could easily get a day and a half out of the battery in any normal scenario, and Huawei also provides an ultra power saving mode to keep your battery lasting for days and days.  In this ultra power saving mode only calls, messages and access to contacts will be available, meaning Huawei’s integrated communications app is the only app able to be running.  This makes your smartphone not so smart, but it ensures that you won’t be stranded in situations where you absolutely cannot have your phone’s battery die.

Software

EmotionUI 3.0 is a bold new step for Huawei, and one in the right direction in nearly every facet of the OS.  It takes Android 4.4 KitKat’s appearance and turns it almost all white, with thin-lined teal icons gracing the notification bar and other areas of the OS.  There’s definitely some iOS 7/8 influence here but it looks much more like Huawei’s own creation rather than just a clone or a good impression of what Apple is trying to do with its OS.  The biggest defining software difference between the Honor 6 and Honor 6 Plus is the inclusion of screen-off gestures.  Huawei now lets you double tap to wake the device as many phones since the LG G2’s debuted the feature.  Within the options menu under gesture controls you’ll find the screen-off gestures setting, which enables you to launch any app by drawing the letter c, e, m or w on the screen even while the phone is locked and the screen is off.  This is a level of convenience that’s easily overlooked but one that’s not easily let go once you start using it.

Sound

As can be expected from a single-back facing speaker, the sound output from the physical speaker on the Honor 6 Plus leaves a lot to be desired.  Volume was lower than I would have liked in every application, from music to using the loudspeaker on the phone app.  I found it impossible to use the loudspeaker when in a moving car, especially on the highway, where the volume was just too low to hear the person on the other end of the line.  There’s no audible distortion from the speaker when the volume is all the way up but that’s not really saying anything given the overall low volume present from the speaker.

Audio output from the 3.5mm headset jack

Camera

One of the most unique features on the Huawei Honor 6 Plus is the camera, as the back of the phone has not one but two 8 megapixel cameras.  This is a similar setup to what HTC did with the One M8 in the Spring of 2014, except instead of having one fairly low resolution Ultrapixel camera and a super low resolution Duo camera, Huawei features two full-quality 8MP shooters nestled right next to eachother.  HTC branded its sensor the Ultrapixel camera because the physical pixels were 2 microns in size, which is nearly double the 1.1 micron pixel size of most sensors in smartphones nowadays.  Huawei sort of follows this by creating a 1.98 micron “effective” pixel size, meaning both cameras are somewhere in the range of 1 micron pixels, but combining the image of both produces one that’s roughly the equivalent of the quality you would see out of a sensor with 1.98 micron pixels.

If all of this tech talk bores you, just remember this: the bigger the pixels the more light is allowed to enter the sensor, meaning low light photos will look better than on phones with smaller pixel sizes.  Combining both images results in a 13 megapixel image in the end rather than an 8mp or a 16mp one.  This gives you the best of both worlds, with an effective resolution higher than a single 8mp sensor but without the noise that a smaller 16mp sensor would bring.  Overall I found the pictures taken with the Honor 6 Plus to be superior to most 13 megapixel shooters out there, with less noise, better color accuracy and almost no need to use those nasty denoise filters we’ve become so used to that make pictures muddy and unusable at large sizes.

Huawei also features a couple of interesting depth tricks that use the secondary camera to isolate objects and allow you to not only apply filters to the foreground or background of an image, but also to refocus after taking the picture.  Using what’s called “Wide aperature” mode on the camera takes an 8mp shot with only a second or two of processing time in between.  Because of this processing time wide aperature mode isn’t going to be good in every situation, especially one with lots of movement, but it gives you the freedom of more post-processing options than you would normally have with a picture taken from auto mode.  After taking the shot you can select where the focus should be in the picture and adjust the virtual aperature of the lens, meaning the objects not immediately in focus will either become more or less blurred as you increase or decrease the aperature.  You can also apply filters here such as making the subject in focus colorful while tinting the rest of the shot in black & white, or applying a pencil sketch filter to the unfocused part of the shot.

HDR photos are extremely quick to take, and while it obviously doesn’t use an instant on-sensor HDR method it does produce a full 13mp resolution image.  There’s a bit more noise going on here than I would like to see in this mode, which unfortunately means the denoise filter goes into overdrive in lower light situations.  This makes low light HDR very difficult to use as the images get muddy and details fade away.  In strong lighting situations though the HDR produced some phenomenal results, taking near-instant shots with excellent color accuracy, great shadow balance and overall natural looking lighting without haloing or other common HDR imaging artifacts.

Low light shots are generally fantastic so long as you’re not in areas that are too dark.  For these areas you need to switch from auto mode to Super Night mode, which uses both cameras to hold the shutter open longer and grab more light, then stitches the photos together in an attempt to make a less blurry photo.  I found that letting it automatically choose these settings was usually a bad idea, as it held the shutter open a little too long and always resulted in a blurry photo.  In this mode there are quick options for changing ISO and shutter speed right on screen, so dropping that shutter speed to something more manageable like 1/2 or 1 second fixed my problem and produced absolutely stellar low light photos.  Just don’t move when taking these or try to capture anything moving as it’ll come out blurry.  Check out the gallery below for a smattering of different shots.

Conclusion

Network support in the US remains a low point for the Honor 6 Plus, but unlike the Honor 6 I was at least able to get 3G HSPA connectivity out of the device.  Beware if you’re planning on using this phone on T-Mobile’s network or one of its MVNO’s though, as it didn’t play well and I received not only a number of dropped calls but no MMS support whatsoever.  If your carrier supports the bands here you’re going to get one of the finest wireless network experiences possible though, especially if LTE Category 6 Carrier Aggregation is supported in your region.  At around sub $400 this high-end phablet is perfect competition against what’s already in the market, but I’m not entirely sure about what’s to come.  The Spring 2015 lineup of phones is looking to be more killer than ever, and if the pricing is right on these new phones Huawei’s latest might not look quite as good as it does right at this moment.