#at least the bronchitis got his life colors right

[orobty]

He did just have bronchitis

[palettes-and-prompts]

25 Dialogue Prompts for Each Color of the Rainbow (Part 2)

Red 1) "How could anyone not like me? I'm perfect." 2) "Quick! They're coming, how do I look? Do I have anything in my teeth? Do I smell because I need to look perfect!" 3) "Wow, have you been working out, you look great!" 4) "Oh, this old thing? I just threw this on." 5) "You really think I'm beautiful?" 6) "I wasn't meant to be some little star. I was meant to be the sun." 7) "They haven't texted me since the date and it's been a week. What if they didn't like me? No, that's ridiculous, I'm wonderful. Something must've just happened to their phone." 8) "I'm going to die alone aren't I? Just me, some cats, and boxed wine. At least Real Housewives will always be there for me." 9) "They're obviously not looking for perfection because I'm right here." 10) "I'm not shopping at a thrift store, that's where poor people shop!" 11) "You had better change for the party because you're fucking high if you think I'm going to let you stand next to me while you wear that outfit." 12) "A gift? For me? Oh you shouldn't have! Oh...a book...wow...thanks. You, uh, really shouldn't have." 13) "Please be a loser somewhere else." 14) "I'm on a diet where I have to drink kale. If you value your life leave right now." 15) "I want this entire box of Kit Kats." "....the whole box." "NOW!" 16) "It's scary out there, I'm not coming with you to check out that noise." "Okay." "No! Wait, don't actually leave me alone." 17) "I am not a scaredy cat! I just don't like when things pop out at me or creep around in the dark or come within ten feet of me unless they're hot." 18) "I would never ever fall in love with you." "Okay, well, you're still holding onto me." "I just didn't want to get lost!" 19) "Wow, you're really strong. Like...really strong." "If you're that thirsty there's a water fountain right over there." 20) "God look at them. They look so good when they're sweaty. Oh fuck they're taking their jacket off." "You're drooling." 21) "Give me back the honey bun or I will scratch your eyes out." "You need to calm down." "You need to not tell me to calm down." 22) "Everyone keeps getting flowers and it's so annoying. Like, we have work to do, you shouldn't be worried about getting flowers. I hate flowers, I-" "I think there are some flowers on your desk." "Oh my god I love flowers! They're so pretty. Aww, I wonder who got them for me." " 23) "I think you're the most dramatic person I know." "That can't be true, I'm not dramatic." "You literally cried yesterday when no one noticed you got your hair trimmed like a centimeter." "It was a big difference from how it was!" "It was a centimeter!" 24) "My ideal home is one that's small but enough to have a family in." "They're such a fucking liar, their ideal home has to have mirrors everywhere, a double curved staircases so they can walk down dramatically, a maze in the backyard, a fountain in the front with a circular driveway, but then the road in is lined with trees because their dramatic and when you get to the gate it has their last initial on it." "Oh my god, you do listen to me!" "Unfortunately yes." 25) "Are you in love with me?" "What? No, I can't stand you." "You remember everything about me! You pay attention to everything I say and I can be very..." "Dramatic?" "Passionate about certain things. You hate it." "I don't hate it." "So you love it?" "We don't have to put a label on what I feel." "Yes we do. You love me!" "Fine, okay, I love you." "Really?" "Don't get all passionate right now." "I'm already planning our wedding in my mind."

Orange 1) "You're really cool, we should hang out sometime. Maybe you could watch me skateboard." 2) "You're always stressing yourself out, why don't you let me help you unwind?" 3) "It's just you, me, and this goat you told me not to get." 4) "You think hiding your snacks is gonna stop me from eating them? I'm like a bloodhound, I will sniff them out!" 5) "What do you think would happen if I snorted Cheeto dust?" 6) "Remember when you told me not to try to reach into the vending machine when my chips got stuck because my arm would get stuck in there. Well, the good news is I got my chips. Bad news is I wont be home for a while." 7) "You know how Gaston ate four dozen eggs every morning to help him get large? Okay, so that's bullshit because when I was a kid I tried to do that and I barely ate a dozen before I threw up." 8) "Oh, I'm an idiot? Because I think I'm fucking styling in these diamond studded crocs while I ride my razor scooter!" 9) "Oh, I always get a perfect score on any test I take. Everyone always thinks I'm cheating but the doctors say I've got something called an photographic memory where I only look at things once and I just remember it. Anyway, wanna see how many ants I can eat?" 10) "One time I got stung by a bee on the tongue because I wanted to see what it felt like." "Did it feel good?" "It did not." 11) "I used to think Bronchitis meant I was growing broccoli inside my lungs." "It doesn't mean that. When did you find out that it didn't mean that?" "Oh, um, like... a few days ago." "A FEW DAYS AGO?!" 12) "So, I did something." "What did you do?" "I should preface by saying I am not smart." "What. Did. You. Do?" 13) "Just shaved a cat to look like a lion with a mane." "That's so stupid, why would you do that?" "Why don't you look at the results first?" 14) "I beat all of Super Mario World and found every single secret." "When's the last time you slept?" "Last time I what?" 15) "Why are you all twitchy?" "I just mixed every energy drink from the gas station with pixie sticks." "Jesus, we're going to the hospital." 16) "I know eating cheese makes you constipated and everything, but like, how much cheese? I don't want to be constipated so what's the maximum amount I can eat without that happening." 17) "Don't freak out, but I'm in jail." "JAIL?!" "It's all a big misunderstanding!" 18) "Can I tell you something without you getting mad?" "You always ask me this and I always get mad." "Yeah, but like, maybe this time you could just...not get mad?" 19) "You are the human equivalent of the smiley face emoji." "Aww! Thank you." "It wasn't a compliment." 20) "You look like you eat sunshine and shit rainbows." "Actually I eat Lucky Charms. Well, just the charms actually with like a little bit of the lucky bit." "You're so positive it sickens me." 21) "I love Thanksgiving." "Yikes. Why?" "Because I get to have dinner with all my friends and family. There's no pressure to buy gifts or anything. We all just come together and appreciate each other." "I could put everything you've ever said on a Hallmark card." 22) "Do you know how much I love you?" "You send me every heart emoji before bed and end it with a kissy face with the words 'I love you' every night. I think I get it." "I'll start doing it every morning just to be sure." 23) "You know how in Inside Out there's all the different little people that represent each emotion?" "Yeah, I love that movie!" "Yeah, I think your Joy emotion person killed your Sad emotion person." "What? No! She wouldn't do that!" " 24) "You have to stop crying every time this scene in the movie comes up." "He thinks she doesn't love him!" "It's just Shrek. You've seen how it ends, you can quote it for fuck's sake!" "I know but he doesn't know right now!" "Oh my god." 25) "I swallowed the key to Person A's car." "Oh my god why would you do that?" "I thought it'd be funny but now I'm worried about it." "Oh now you're worried about it?"

Yellow 1) "I heard everyone survived, is that true?" "Yes, everyone's fine." "Pity." 2) "If being classy means being mean to everyone who's considered to be beneath you then I must be the classiest bitch in the whole fucking world." 3) "I don't think you're beneath me, I know you are." 4) "A piece of advice I'll give to you for free. Stay out of my way unless you'd like to be crushed under my foot." 5) "Hmm, I wonder which shoes I should wear to stomp on the dreams of others today." 6) "Don't cry on me, this jacket is worth more than your car!" 7) "Oh no, I won. Aww! And you wanted it so bad, didn't you?" 8) "You know, in duos it's usually one's the beauty and one's the brains but in our case I guess I really lucked out, didn't I?" 9) "Don't think for a second I'm interested in you, I'm only speaking to you because I have to." 10) "They took something that was mine. And now I have to kill them." 11) "I was scheduled to ruin someone's life today, but I guess I can save that for another time. Let's hang out!" 12) "I know that person, their significant other made my friend cry so I slept with their boyfriend/girlfriend and made them fall in love with me. I can't wait to be there when they tell them they're leaving them for me." 13) "You need good friends, people who will watch out for you and help you handle your problems." 14) "Listen here, you little shit, I've worked hard to get this perfect so if you fuck it up I will destroy everything you love." 15) "Oh, how cute! You think you're a threat to me." 16) "Next time you try to threaten me remember who you're dealing with. Because I don't do threats, I make promises. And when I promised I'd ruin your life I intended to keep that promise." 17) "Oh my god, here comes that insufferable bitc-Hi! Oh my god, I haven't seen you in forever, you look so good!" 18) "Oh, gag me with a fucking spoon. If I have to listen to you idiots try to talk and breathe at the same time I'm going to jump in front of a fucking bus." 19) "Move! I'll handle it just like I handle everything, with grace and vague threats." 20) "What do you mean they're in love with me? Did they say that word for word? Because you know I'm in love with them so if this is a trick it's not funny and I'll fucking kill you. Did they say that word for word?" 21) "I only have strengths I don't have weaknesses." 22) "They called me heartless? I'm not heartless! I'm nice. I'm so fucking nice. I'm going to prove how fucking nice I am and then they're going to look like an idiot for saying that!" 23) "Stop crying. You look fucking pathetic and you're not pathetic because I don't have pathetic friends. So keep your head up, bury your feelings, and act like the goddamn champion you are." 24) "Don't speak, you could make the town idiot feel like a genius." 25) "Stop acting like a loser or you're not allowed to stand next to me anymore."

Green 1) "Well, look at that, we're all alone. So, anything you wanna say to me? Anything you wanna do to me?" 2) "Of course I have sex for money, you think I'd just give all this away for free?" 3) "What do you mean I can't wear this to the funeral? It's my mourning crop top." 4) "How's my outfit?" "Hideous. You should shred it and then burn it just to be safe." 5) "Ew, what do you want?"   6) "I'm gonna need you to not stand next to me at this party, I don't want anyone thinking we came together." 7) "Does this make me look slutty?" "Not at all, it's very modest for you actually." "Ew, okay, I'm gonna go change." 8) "Why are you putting on glitter? We're going to a toddler's birthday party." "Look, if you wanna look like that that's your choice. I plan on looking like I hunt mythical creatures for a living." 9) "The robbers took everything in my house." "Yeah, but they left your clothes so what do you think that says about them?" 10) "I thought you hated the thrift store." "I did, I thought it was a very sad little place, but then I started designing my own outfit with all the decent things they sell and so now I love the thrift store." 11) "They broke up with you? You?! No, I don't think so. Come with me, we're going to fix you and you're going to show them what they're missing." 12) "They might have more money than me but I'm the one who has clear skin and the ability to not look like trash." 13) "A choker can be something that says it all. It can say 'I'm fun and I love hanging out with my friends' but it can also say 'I only have rough sex' you know?" 14) "You're not my type." "You haven't even turned around to see me." "Didn't need to. I could smell that cheap cologne/perfume from a mile away." "What is your type?" "Rich." 15) "What are you doing?" "Eating take out and watching porn." "What kind of porn?" "Bondage porn." "Oh, that kind of day, huh? Should I come over?" "No, I'll just try to sleep wit you." "You do that even when you're not sad." "Okay, you can come over." 16) "Where are you going with my keys?" "I've got to kill someone." "Okay, make sure you don't get blood on my seats." 17) "No, highlight yellow and highlighter orange are not real colors. Okay? Are you a hunter trying not to get shot or a construction worker? No, you're not. You're trying to seduce someone. So lets get rid of this monstrosity and find something that'll make your eyes look pretty." 18) "I love you very much and it's because I love you that I can say this. Please don't wear that outfit or you will embarrass me." 19) "You just kissed me." "Yeah, I did." "Why? Did I seem like I was drowning or that I needed mouth to mouth? Were you trying to kill a bug with your lips? Why would you kiss me?" "I like you. A lot." "Hahaha...wait, seriously?" "Why's that so hard to believe?" "Because I'm me, people don't like me, they just like looking at me." "Well, I like you. A lot. And if you like me maybe we could get some dinner later or something." "Okay!" 20) "Oh my god, is that a skort? I think I might vomit. Skorts are for children, not adults. Once you hit eighteen you are legally banned from wearing skorts unless you play tennis or something. Do you play tennis? No. I didn't think so. Burn that." 21) "Camo is disgusting and if I ever catch any of you wearing it we are no longer friends." 22) "Your shorts are a little too short." "Yeah? You like it?" "You're attracting a lot of attention." "But am I attracting your attention?" 23) "Oh, wow, that's a bright shade of yellow. Um, why don't we try a few different outfits for fun before we decide on that one, okay?" 24) "Hey, I came as fast as I could, where's the body?" "Actually, I called you for a--you came here prepared to hide a body with me?" "Of course I did, you're my best friend." "Aww!" 25) "I only have sex for free when I like someone, and for you, honey? It'll cost triple what I normally charge."

Blue 1) "I heard the pet store got new puppies and kittens, wanna go see them with me?" 2) "We should go ice skating!" 3) "I love having picnics with you, you always bring my favorite foods." 4) "I love spending time with you." 5) "I think I wanna spend the rest of my life with you." 6) "Are you cold? You can wear my jacket if you want!" 7) "I don't want any of that stuff. I just want you. I've always wanted you." 8) "I wonder what it's like to hug a cloud." "Your hands would go right through it." "Yeah, but I've always wanted to touch one." 9) "Is it okay if we stay a little longer?" "We can stay until close if you'd like." "I just really like looking at the fish." "I know." 10) "Could you hug me for like an hour?" "Yeah, okay, wanna watch a movie while we do that or?" 11) "We have to leave right now. The Easter Bunny is at the store up the road and they're doing pictures." "You're an adult." "Please!!!" "Fine. We can go sit on the employee dressed in a rabbit suit's lap." "Yay! Thank you!" 12) "You can't eat that much cotton candy, you'll make yourself sick." "But it's good!" "You'll get a cavity." 13) "Can we go to the fair?" "We're not riding the toddler rides again. People gave us so many dirty looks last year." "But what about the teacups?" "We can ride the teacups, but none of the other kid ones." 14) "Can we shoot fireworks this year?" "You hate the ones with loud noises." "Yeah, but I like looking at them." "I'll buy earmuffs for you." 15) "Can we paint the side room." "Sure, what color?" "I was thinking like maybe a purple or green. Maybe all the colors." "Like a rainbow room? Why would we do the whole room?" "It'd be fun, it'd be cute for a side room or an office, maybe a baby room." "Baby room?" "Maybe. I mean, if you like that idea." "I think it's a great idea." 16) "Can we get a dog?" "You're an adult, if you want a dog you don't have to ask me." "Yeah, but it's your house too so..." "Yes, we can get a dog. We can go to the shelter tomorrow." 17) "So, I was thinking maybe we could have our wedding during the spring or maybe the summer." "You have bad allergies during those times." "Yeah, but I was thinking we could get fake flowers and I could take some allergy medication and it could still look like a spring or a summer wedding." "I'll start looking at fake flowers." "I'll check venues." 18) "Why are you up so early?" "Look outside! It's snowing!!!" "And you woke me up so we could play in it?" "Uh huh." "One hour and then you let me go back to sleep." "I'll go get my gloves!!" 19) "We have to go to the zoo." "You hate the zoo, you said you don't like seeing animals in cages." "I know but the goats just gave birth to baby goats and they're finally letting them out to be pet today!" 20) "I dream about flying all the time but I never thought I'd actually get to do it." 21) "Thanks for tonight, I had a really great time with you. I hope we can do it again soon." 22) "We should move in together. I mean, if you want." 23) "I don't want to lose you, and it took me a while to realize but I know what I want now. Will you marry me?" 24) "I wouldn't trade you for all the gold, silver, gems, or all the most expensive things in the world." 25) "You really are the love of my life."

Indigo 1) "They're obnoxious and loud and stupid and I can't believe I'm in love with them." 2) "You may be a star but you'll never be as big a star as VY Canis Majoris." 3) "The most fucked up thing I ever learned was that Luna moths don't have mouths or a digestive tract because their sole purpose is to mate. So they live for a week and then die because they starve to death." 4) "I think you have more outfits than you have IQ points." 5) "Can you just stop doing...whatever it is you're doing for like ten minutes." 6) "God you're so annoying, just stop breathing. Please? Just stop." 7) "I wish I were a plant, I wouldn't have to talk or think or do all this shit. I'd just have to soak up sunlight, soak up rain, and take in carbon dioxide. Being a plant really is the fucking dream." 8) "Hey, I heard Person A broke up with you. That sucks. So, um, do you think I could get my Chemistry book?" 9) "Are you still upset about your break up with Person A? You shouldn't be, I've seen their family members, they don't age well. But, um, that neighbor of yours, the cute one, their family looks pretty good. And with your genes you two would have some above average looking children." "Thank you?" "You're welcome." 10) "You know, you're terrible at giving advice." "Yeah, well, I'm not used to being around other humans." "Maybe just say people. Calling other people humans is kind of...weird." "Noted." 11) "Do you want to come to a party with me tonight?" "To what? Drink, embarrass myself, have to listen to terrible music, and interact with people I don't even like?" "Yes." "Pass. I'd rather be here studying plants." 12) "Would you like to go out sometime, on like a date?" "Sure, I guess. You just set up the blind date and I'll do my best. Though, maybe you could find me someone who at least can carry on a conversation with me." "No, I mean would you want to go out on a date with me?" "With you? Why would you want to date me? Don't you have plenty of other options?" "I like you." "We wouldn't work out. You and I are too different. You are good looking and nice and deserve someone who's like you. You don't want someone like me anyways. Besides I'd bore you to death before the appetizers came out." 13) "I care about you." "You? Thought you didn't care about anyone." "I don't. Usually. But I think the reason I care so much is because I like you." "You like me?" "Yeah, it's um... it's a new feeling for sure." 14) "What they said back there. You're not a robot." "No, I am. They're right. It's hard for me to be like the others. I didn't grow up having friends so I didn't know what it was like to care about anything other than school or projects." "You care about me. You said you care about me. Is that true." "Of course it's true." "Then you're not a robot." 15) "You kissed me back there. Why did you do that?" "I was testing a hypothesis." "Oh yeah? What was your hypothesis." "You would kiss me back if I kissed you." "And the results?" "Well, if worked the first time. But a good scientists always checks their work to be sure, right?" "That's correct, yes." 16) "Have you ever kissed anyone?" "I've done a lot of things." "Have you had sex?" "Yes, but it was purely for research. I wanted to know what certain things felt like and what certain things would do for others." "Only you could manage to make sex sound so boring." 17) "Hey, I was--are you watching porn?" "I'm researching for an experiment." "What kind? You gonna see what happens when you put your hand down your pants to that?" "No, I was studying to see if I could tell the difference between a real orgasm and a fake one." "If you wanted to study that you could have just asked me." 18) "Do you think I should socialize more?" "Since when do you care what I think? You're the one with a billion degrees." "Well, you're better with people than I am." 19) "You're hugging me." "Yeah. It's what friends do, they hug." "It's, um, nice. I think." 20) "Yesterday I felt the urge to hug the mailman. Isn't that weird?" "Did you hug the mailman?" "No." "Then it's not that weird. Probably just your body telling you it needs to be touched physically, you know?" "What?" "You crave physical touch." 21) "I think I'm lonely." "Yeah, I think you are too." "Should I start dating?" "Do you want to date?" "Not particularly." "Then maybe just try getting friends." 22) "If I have to spend another evening with that idiot I might lose it." "Is this because they thought photosynthesis had to do with photography?" "Don't remind me." 23) "We're having dinner with my friends tonight." "They hate me." "They don't hate you, you're just smarter than all of them combined." 24) "I can't talk to Person A, they tried to ask me about plant cells and actually thought that I was talking about a cellphone made of plants." "They're not very good at Science, but they like you a lot an they're trying to find ways to talk to you. It's cute. You should give them a chance. Take them to a Science museum." "Like, the ones for kids?" "Yeah. They'll love it." "Fine, but if it starts to go bad I'm texting you to call me and say there's an emergency so I can get out of it." "As long as you give it a try." 25) "They're in love with you, you know? Why do you ruin all your chances at love?" "Because sometimes I'm not sure I'm capable of feeling it."

Violet 1) "You smell like desperation. That a new cologne/perfume or is that just you?" 2) "I'm not here to play nice, I'm here to protect your ass because you couldn't follow simple instructions!" 3) "God, you are so annoying. I can't believe I have to put up with you for six months." 4) "Get your shit, we're getting out of here. I'm not leaving you in this hellhole, alright? Pack your stuff, you're coming with me." 5) "Are we gonna be a family?" "Let's not call it that, let's call it I'm taking care of you for a while alright?" "For how long?" "For as long as you want me to." 6) "Are you gonna be my mom/dad?" "WOAH! No. Absolutely not. I'll be your guardian, okay? And it's only temporary." 7) "Goddamn it, kid, wake up! You can't annoy the shit out of me for months and make me care about you just so you can die like this. I'm not allowing it. Come on, get up, kid. If you get up I'll take you to that Funland place you wanted to go. Anywhere you wanna go. I'll be better to you. I'll...fuck! I'll take care of you for the rest of your life. I'll teach you how to ride a bike and be there for you when you do Science fairs and shit. I'll be your mom/dad." 8) "You're stupid trying to save me like that. You can't swim." "You never taught me how to." "Yeah, well, I'm gonna teach you when we get out of here." 9) "You're evil and manipulative and you're mean and I kinda love that about you, kid. You remind me of me. If you want a place to sleep and food you don't have to dig out of the trash you can stay with me as long as you want." 10) "Can I get a motorcycle?" "Absolutely not, kid. As long as I'm alive the only two wheel thing you'll be riding on is a fucking bicycle." "Well, can I get a bicycle?" "Yeah, we can steal you one later." 11) "You might be the most annoying person I've ever met in the world but I'd die for you." 12) "If you ever come near me or my family I'll fucking kill you. I will bury you in a shallow grave and leave you as food for the worms. Do you understand me?" 13) "You're not going to die here because I'm gonna protect you." 14) "Hey, you trust me don't you?" "Yeah." "Good, you're going to have to disguise yourself. And whatever you do keep your head down, don't talk, and don't let go of me, okay?" 15) "Hey short stack." "You came for me?" "Course I did, did you really think I'd leave you behind?" 16) "I'm coming with you." "You're not." "I am and you can't stop me." "I can handcuff you to that bench over there and leave Person A the keys." "...well I would appreciate if you didn't do that." 17) "Hey there, stranger, haven't seen you in a while." "What the fuck are you doing here?" "Is that really how you greet your best friend?" 18) "Out of my way." "You'll die if you go in there." "And you'll die if I don't go in there." 19) "I'm always gonna be here for you, you know that? 20) "Woah, what's wrong, why are you crying?" "You'll be leaving after this." "Come here, I'm not leaving you after this. I'm staying here with you. Did you really think I'd leave you here all alone? You can barely make toast." 21) "Hey, you can't run off like that again, do you hear me?" "Yeah, whatever-" "No! No, you don't get to whatever me about this. You could have fucking died out there. So you look me in the eye and you promise me you're never going to do that again!" "I-I promise I'll never do it again!" 22) "Look, I'm not your parent so I'm not going to tell you what to do, but that kid you're hanging around is bad news. I've seen their arrest record, you shouldn't be hanging around them. I know they're nice right now but people like that take advantage of nice. I would know. I used to be like them." 23) "I love you. More than anything in the world and that's why I train so hard. I have to train harder because now I have to be stronger. Because now I finally have something worth fighting for." 24) "You can't come with me. You're staying here." "I want to fight!" "You're sick. You need to stay here with Person A, take some medicine, and get some rest." 25) "Hey, watch your mouth, no one talks like that in front of my kid!"

[ashtheshortstack]

take my scars & make them stars - prologue

Rating: M Ship: Kristoff/Anna prologue

Tags: Hurt/Comfort, Angst, Sick Fic, Cancer Fic, Chronic Illness, Chemotherapy, Modern AU, Coffee Shop AU, Fluff and Angst, Fluff, Eventual Smut, Angst with a happy ending, Mutual Pining, Mentions of Character Death

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Next Chapter

Anna Anderson had grown up in a rather… sheltered environment, not that she’d like to admit it. When admitting to a sheltered life, it meant she was implying she was naïve, innocent, and unsure of the world. Which wasn’t true at all.

Mostly.

Being raised in her household meant she was always in Elsa’s shadow. Her elder sister was born premature, and their mother had a lot of complications during delivery. Elsa was labeled a “sickly child” by her parents and family. Anna shouldn’t have even been born as a matter of fact. Her mother, Iduna, was told Elsa would be the one and only child she could ever give birth to.

Clearly, that was wrong. Anna came into this world as a “miracle baby,” but a healthy one. Not one that her parents needed to fret over like Elsa.

Anna couldn’t even count the amount of doctor visits, hospital visits, or nights she was left alone with the housekeepers while her parents rushed Elsa out the door as she coughed wildly in her father’s arms. It was a miracle itself that Elsa survived cases of the flu, bronchitis, and even pneumonia once as much as she had.

“Can Elsa play today?” she had always asked.

Her father shook his head. “No, Anna. Elsa is sick today.”

“When will she get better?”

“I don’t know, Anna, I don’t know.”

When Elsa was seven, Agnarr and Iduna decided it would best to keep Anna away, for fear of her contaminating Elsa in any possible way. Her sister began wearing gloves on the regular. A mask over her face anytime they visited highly populated places. There were no more family vacations, no more sneaking outside to play, no more leaving the house.

Anna was ripped away from her first year of kindergarten as she and Elsa had begun homeschooling instead. Not together, of course. They weren’t allowed to be in the same room hardly, let alone do schoolwork together. Anna was removed from school because of the germs she could contract from other children. The possibility of having friends was suddenly unavailable.

Her parents were often busy with work as well. With Agnarr being the CEO of the family business, and Iduna often shoveling whatever overloaded paperwork he had, they didn’t have time to homeschool their children themselves. They had money for that. So, they hired tutors to teach their children. And for Anna… that meant she rarely saw her parents at all.

Elsa had their undivided attention. Whatever Elsa needed… at any time. No more bedtime stories for Anna… no more play time with Anna… She never wanted for anything. Anyone from the outside looking in would see that Anna had everything. Toys, games, books… but not the attention of her parents.

Not what she knew she deserved.

Anna could recall the lonely nights, curled up in her bed with a Gameboy in her hand. No one would ever pop in and tell her lights out. Sometimes, only sometimes, Anna wished she could be sick too. She wanted her mother and father to check on her. She wanted them to be concerned for her well-being like they were for Elsa’s.

She was special too, wasn’t she? They told her she was a miracle. A child her mother wasn’t even supposed to have. And at times… Anna wished she hadn’t. What was the point of existing when no one cared that you did?

And that’s when Anna found herself nose deep in romantic novels… Hoping to feel something. Anything at all.

She found herself wishing for that romantic moment of a prince coming to toss pebbles at her window. The desire for a man to come save her from this miserable life she’d been living consumed her mind. It was the one thing the prayed for, begged for… though there was no way to meet anyone when she was cooped up at home. Never allowed to leave the mansion for fear of getting her sister sick.

And no matter how tempted she was, Anna could never leave. If something were to happen to Elsa because she broke the rules, the guilt would eat her alive. It was a thought she couldn’t have sitting on her conscious. It was one her parents would never let her live down. She couldn’t imagine what they’d say if she was responsible for making their first born ill.

With that, Anna decided to continue her streak of dubious daughter. She followed the rules, played nice, stayed out of Elsa’s space.

And still sometimes wondered if Prince Charming would show up for her to let her hair down to him.

                                                         o~o~o~o

Thankfully, Elsa got better the older the sisters got. She was still a bit OCD, standoffish, and their parents continued to cater to her every whim. But at least they started to sit at the dinner table together every night. It was largely spread out. Elsa sat on the opposite end as to stay away from everyone else. But it was a start. Being able to talk to her parents again thrilled her. Getting to know Elsa again, her sister she’d been so close to before illnesses got the better of her, was so refreshing as well.

Anna had done everything she could to stay close to Elsa: slipping her drawings, toys, and cards under the door when she could. There was never a response, but she could see Elsa’s shadow take the item every time.

The car accident that took their parents from them when Anna was fifteen was completely unexpected. She wasn’t sure how they would make it through. Elsa would be next in line as CEO when she turned twenty-one, which was a lot of pressure to put on someone who had just lost her parents. Especially parents that coddled everything she did.

Gerda, one of their housekeepers, engaged in the lengthy process of becoming Anna’s legal guardian so the sisters could remain together in their home. It was a lot of paperwork. A lot of issues with the courts. But Gerda knew that Elsa couldn’t be Anna’s legal guardian as her health wasn’t up to par. Besides, it would only be three years until Anna was eighteen herself and could move away from home. She held onto that thought through it all. If she could just make it to eighteen, she could move out and find someone to be with.

The thought came to life sooner than Anna had expected. Gerda gave Anna the choice of enrolling in school and, of course, Anna took the opportunity to begin high school.

Which was just as much of a nightmare as television and books made it out to be. There were thankfully girls that were kind to her and took them under their wing. They had all warned her about Hans, but she didn’t take heed them. All she saw was that prince in her fairy tale dream she’d been waiting to come true. He was the first boy to show interest in her, so she’d be damned if she didn’t take the opportunity to fall in love.

She convinced herself Hans was her “true love” like all the stories told her. Elsa didn’t like him when she introduced him, but Anna brushed it off to Elsa really not liking anyone. She should’ve listened to her sister. Listened to everyone, in fact. Anna wanted to deny she was clueless, but she was. She had no idea what love was really like. She’d barely gotten it from her parents. She and Elsa didn’t start getting close until after their parents were gone…

                                                          o~o~o~o

 Senior Prom was the night that turned her dreams upside down. Hans whispered how “hot” she was in that dress. She was beautiful, he was lucky to have her, he wanted her on his arm to show off because he had the “prettiest girl in school” with him. He said all the right things. All the praises she needed to hear to flatter his way under her dress.

She’d let him. She wanted to get it over with, right? All of her friends weren’t virgins anymore. Anna was in high school, and she’d be in college the next year. It was normal to have sex with your boyfriend. Especially after prom. That’s what books told her. That’s what society told her.

The guilt ate at her afterwards. She wanted to enjoy it. This was her boyfriend, right? It should’ve been magical and great. Then why didn’t it feel that way? They were safe. Used protection. It wasn’t as if they were irresponsible.

But her body no longer felt like her own. He’d suddenly taken that from her. She felt dirty. Maybe, somewhere in the back of her mind, she knew he was no good for her. Knew he was using her. Knew he didn’t love her. The rose-colored glasses seemed to shatter… but would anyone else ever want to be with her? She didn’t think so… She was just some broken girl with dead parents and hardly a home life. The fact that Hans even spared her a glance was lucky, at best. Maybe, her wish came true in some form or fashion.

Thus, she stayed. She desperately wanted someone to care. Hans had given her attention when no one else did. So what if wasn’t the “one true love” ideal relationship she’d always dreamed of? It was still someone to be with her. Someone to kiss, to hug, to cuddle… even if he was kind of a jerk.

And she’d been stupid enough to stay with him through their first two semesters of college, despite how much worse he seemed to get. He got new friends in college… if Hans had been a jerk before, he was a real dipshit after he gathered his knew college posse. Anna had no desire to be around his frat buddies. They were obnoxious at best. They were loud, drank uncontrollable amount of beers, smoked who knows what all the time.

Everything Anna had been conditioned to avoid like the plague. She wouldn’t dare tell Elsa, who had long since taken over the company and had much less time to pay attention to Anna’s relationship woes. Elsa seemed to have given up the idea that Anna would dump the pretentious boy and accepted he was a part of her younger sister’s life.

Despite how miserable he made Anna, she was just so desperate. She’d realize that eventually when she continued to stay even though she’d overheard him say to a frat buddy that he started dating Anna in high school because there would be money to inherit eventually. It broke her heart.

She still said “yes” anyway when he proposed.

                                                           o~o~o~o

 It was the diagnosis that did her in.

When the doctor informed her, she had stage two breast cancer at the ripe age of twenty-one, a rarity. Anna decided a few things in that moment: if she was going to go through this, it sure as hell wasn’t going to be with Hans, if she was going to die (though a stage two diagnosis was hardly a death sentence especially since she was so young, but just a precaution) she sure as hell wasn’t going to let Hans have her money and profit off her dying, and she took this as her wake-up call, it was time to live her life.

She marched into his home, not even to bother knocking on the door. Only to find her fiancé lip-locking with some dark skinned, bleach blonde, who was obviously trying too hard. Anna barked out a laugh when she saw them.

Hans gaped, eyes wide as he pushed the girl. “H-Honey! Can you believe this bitch!? She just came onto me!”

Anna quickly slipped the ring off her finger before waving at him. “Oh, don’t stop on my account. I’m just here to get my things because we’re through,” she stated boldly before chucking the ring at him. It smacked him in the forehead, and he yelped. “I have cancer, too, by the way,” Anna chimed as cheerily as she could. The girl on the floor just sat stunned at the whole exchange. Hans seemed to be a bit shocked at her admission as well.

“Y-You’re sick?”

“Not that you care, but no. I’m not sick, I have cancer. There’s a difference.” Sick was a word she associated with Elsa. The sickly one. That wasn’t Anna. She wouldn’t be that girl.

Hans quickly stood from the couch. “But, hun, you need someone to be there for you through this.”

She tried not to laugh at the term of endearment. Sweet talking her wasn’t going to convince her to stay, especially not after she just caught him sucking face with a sorority girl on their couch. Anna started up the stairs to get her things, glancing back at him. “Certainly not you. I have my sister.”

“Oh, please, Anna. What has Elsa ever done for you?”

The glare she shot him was deadly enough, she hoped. “Warned me about you, for one. And I’ve put up with your shit long enough, Hans Westergard.”

His feigned concerned expression quickly turned into a smirk, as if he could finally drop the act. “Please, you think your sister will take care of you? What a joke, Anna, you said yourself she couldn’t even take care of herself growing up.”

There it was. That dark tone his voice took when he was talking about her behind her back. The one he tried to hide from her, but she’d heard anyway. He was only trying to keep her because he wanted to use her. He definitely saw dollar signs knowing she was diagnosed with cancer of all things. Hans didn’t know the details, so of course, he would just think she was going to die.

She continued up the stairs to their room, and he followed after her. Anna grabbed her suitcases from the closet. Yanking her clothes from the drawers and closets, she began shoving her garments into the bags. Hans stood in the doorway. If he was going to try to block her in, he had another thing coming.

“Honestly, Anna, this is ridiculous. You need someone to take care of you.”

“Like hell it’ll be you. I’d rather be surrounded by people who love me.”

He chuckled, leaning against the doorway. “Oh, if only someone did.”

Anna felt her fingers quivering. Oh, how badly she wanted to chunk something as his face. But she didn’t. Knocking him out with a snowglobe would be a poor decision. “You said you did,” she hissed. “But I’ve known for so long that it was fake. That is was all a lie. But I still stayed and hoped you would change like a complete fool.” She slammed the suitcases shut and zipped them quickly. “Not anymore, Hans.”

Walking towards him, he did as she suspected and blocked her exit. She gave him a hard stare. “I’ll have a moving truck come to pick up the furniture my sister paid for in a few days.”

“You’re not going anywhere.”

Her fist collided straight with his jaw. Hans stumbled backwards, falling to his ass on the carpeted floor. Rubbing his jaw, he glared up at her in surprise. Anna fled immediately. The girl was sitting on the couch awkwardly, staring at the engagement ring Hans had sat on the table.

“Good luck with him,” Anna blurted before slamming the front door behind her.

                                                         o~o~o~o

 As she drove away, the house she’d shared with Hans faded quickly in the background, she shed tears she’d kept in for so, so long. She kept her gaze on the road, driving towards the mansion, and wiped away the dampness on her cheeks.

Anna had led a sheltered life and had had many wishes growing up. She wished to have a prince to come save her from the mansion and take her away. She wished to be sick like her sister, so her parents would pay her the same attention they gave Elsa…

She realized in that moment that she shouldn’t had had such desires in the first place. Wishing on a star in real life was entirely overrated…

[heyamandahey]

CAT to ER to ICU

Thursday, April 25, 2019

After dragging my feet through the land of ZocDoc, I booked an appointment with a primary care physician since I did not really have one all these years. When ever I have had health insurance in the past, it has always felt sufficient to see my dentist and gynecologist regularly. I rarely get more than one cold per winter, maybe strep throat if I’m going through a traumatic breakup, but that’s it!

After getting approval for a CT scan through my primary doctor, I informed my office I would be getting a scan over my lunch break, but I should be done in time for our afternoon meeting.

The radiology clinic attended to me in a relatively timely matter. I received some sort of iodine drip to increase the contrast of the scan. They warned it may make give me feelings of needing to urinate or a metallic mouth flavor. My groin got sensationally warm.

CAT SCAN An unfamiliar sci-fi machine lay ahead of me with a Battlestar Galactica Cyclon-like eye beam, menacing red horizontal laser against a dark rectangle at the bottom of a large donut-shaped contraption. Mm, doughnuts. Its shape reminded me how I have been fasting for four hours. I mildly wondered if I would have time to pick up a sandwich before my meeting back at the office.

While the donut structure stayed static, the platform bed I laid upon slid back and forth. Gears inside the torus spun faster than a washing machine. It amazed me we could get imagery of any kind this way, and while I have wondered what it would be like to get a CT/CAT scan in the past, I did not expect to do so at this point in my life. It felt too early.

After getting the IV removed and dressed back in my normal clothes, I waited for my results. I expected the radiologist to sit down with me to explain the situation. The receptionist hands me a few papers, plus a CD that must contain my scan. Hah, CDs. I dimly think about how I have no CD drive at home.

After about fifteen to twenty minutes, a man enters the waiting room to confirm my identity. “Are you Amanda? You poor thing!” Oh, no.

This man had apparently already spoken with my PCP on the results of my scan, and I was to go to him straight away for further instructions. The radiologist continued on to say he has seen my doctor before as well for “a thing on his back” before reassuring me everything would be all right. He raised his hand for a high-five. I returned it.

PCP Visit Dr. Adams did not sit down with me to go over the CT scan as I had expected. Instead he had already spoken with the doctors at a nearby hospital and instructed me to head straight to the ER. I should take a cab. He handed me a square of paper.

All right. Definitely not making that mid-afternoon meeting. Probably no time for a sandwich either.

ER In the cab ride over, I called my parents to update them on my situation, but I kept it light-hearted. “Feel better, kiddo!” my mom consoled. I expected to go in for another test or two. I did not know I would spend the next two nights at the hospital. Upon entering the main entrance of the hospital, I feel my sense of control slowly start to crumble. The gravity of the situation suddenly feels immensely heavy. I had expended my last bit of self-control in convincing my parents that my present condition is not a big deal. In truth, I was no longer sure. I have never been to the ER, let alone received explicit instructions to go into one.  

Security guards lined what I expected to be a receptionist desk, but there is no office worker in sight. Tears start to well up in my eyes. All of the surrounding signs say unhelpful things like Green Pathway or Blue Pathway. None of this makes any sense. What’s going to happen to me? What am I doing? Where am I going? Is my eyeliner running?

One security guard reassured me, “Take your time, take your time. Where do you need to go?” He politely looked away while I struggled to fight back tears. After fumbling something about a thoracic surgeon, I remember that I need to go to the emergency room. Go outside and farther down to the right.

In a fog I enter the next unmarked door. A kind-faced man tells me it is about a fifteen-second walk more to the right. How did I get this bad at wayfinding? A wave of idiocy washes over me when I finally see the huge and clearly-defined letters that read, “E M E R G E N C Y – R  O O M” outside.

After checking in and traversing a few tunnels, all windows and natural light disappear. My vitals are taken in one room. I follow another medical professional through sterile hallways, lined with painted cinderblocks, fluorescent lights, and double-doors accessible only via an identification card. Dozens of hospital beds with grey faces and sullen looks line a central cluster of office desks. Behind each computer screen sat someone in a solid-colored scrub, completely unfazed by the organized chaos.

I am led to Bed #56. Is this corner of the room meant for me, or is someone else going to need this bed? I sat down like it’s a couch. Surely someone will come by to conduct another test or two, and then I can just go home. Maybe I can still make it to my gym class to fit in another workout.

A flurry of people stop by my bed, separated only by a curtain partition. What brings me to the hospital? How did my symptoms start? How long have I had this cough? Let me take those printed materials and CD from you.

Two thoracic professionals show me the results of the CAT/CT scan. Based on previous Google searches, I had expected a 3D-model but instead they’re aerial snapshots, slice by slice. Look at the dark spot in the center. That is my trachea. Like a reverse full moon, as we see pictures that approach the center, it turns almost into a sliver before waxing back into a full circle.

Over the course of the evening I learn that I most likely have lymphoma. There is a kind that tends to afflict younger women in the mediastinum or the space between the lungs. This rather large unknown mass most likely has been pressing on my superior vena cava (SVC), which would explain the neck and facial swelling, as well as my trachea, which would explain the coughing.

I don’t have allergies or cold or cough or sinus infection or bronchitis. I just have a tumor. See, guys? I was never contagious.

ICU Because I am essentially not bleeding to death, I will be moved to the ICU in a couple hours. They have deemed my condition unsafe to sleep at home, and I must be monitored at all times. I may have to stay at the hospital “several days” or at least through the weekend.

It is only Thursday night. I take out my phone to cancel my gym class.

The ICU ends up being on the fifteenth floor, and I receive a room all to myself. I don’t think I have been inside a hospital since I visited my paternal grandmother at one back in the Nineties. I did not think I would be at one regarding my own health for another decade or two. It is already a comforting change to see a window to the outside world, despite my occasional disdain for the sun.

I am scheduled to receive corticosteroid injections every six hours. A blood pressure cuff will measure my pressure every fifteen minutes before midnight, then switching only to every hour until morning. Occasionally my veins are flushed with a saline solution to keep the IVs clear. Its cooling sensation is rather pleasant, and it’s what I generally imagine Marvel superheroes feel when power courses through their veins.

Sleep is sparse, but I find rest. I have been instructed to fast, so I contemplate my next meal, eventually finding the Food Network to quell my hunger through a twisted sense of exposure therapy.

[butteredonions]

End-Of-Year Fic Meme

IT’S BAAAAACK!

I’m tagging anyone and everyone who would like to have fun with this. @bosstoaster, @velkynkarma, @ashinan, @mumblefox, @flusteredkeith, @atimelordswife, @oldmythos, @queenvallkyrie, @maychorian, @andriseup, and anyone else who wants to play!

[2017 onion edition]

Stats:

List of Fics Posted: They’re all Voltron :’) All gen unless otherwise indicated.

On Tumblr: Onion 2017 Masterpost: 10,800 words voltron thinktank masterpost: my portion of which equals ~5200

On AO3: The Size Of Our Actions, ch. 6-12 (smol!Shiro, de!aged fic, gen. 40,081 words added this year) The Cavalry (Paladins, adventure/mission fic. Conclusion of a 4-part series with @bosstoaster, @mumblefox, and @ashinan as part of the Season Two countdown. (9,644 words) First Steps (Lance-centric, Star Wars!AU) (9696 words) Foundation (Keith-centric, Star Wars!AU, prequel to First Steps) (8982 words) Intrinsic (Star Wars!AU featuring Padawan Shiro) (1219 words) Disturbance (Star Wars!AU, sequel to First Steps) (18915 words) like threads, weaving (Uliro, collection of 5 prompt fills) (5338 words) brace (Uliro​) (2532 words) collision (Uliro, role reversal AU of sorts) (10455 words) cutthroat (Lance-centric, Hunger Games!AU) (1363 words) colors don't fade (Keith-centric, remix for @andriseup) (2625 words) parallel (daemon!AU, primarily Keith and Pidge) (5656 words) if tomorrow never comes (time!travel AU, onion’s first Sheith) (4195 words) indulgence (Uliro featuring blankets and h/c) (1859 words) enough to endure this (Uliro soulmate AU) (4916 words) relentless (Hunger Games!AU, prequel of sorts. Shiro-centric, tagged as pre-Sheith) (3217 words)

Total number: 16, plus tumblr Total word count: 144,156 * ( tumblr: 15,995 | AO3: 128,161) *not counting another 100k+ of drafts that have yet to see the light of day :’)

Ship/character breakdown: Ship breakdown: 5 Uliro, 2 Sheith. The rest are gen. Character breakdown:  1 full ensemble piece; 1 smol!Shiro with complete ensemble (no single narrator, everyone gets a turn); 1 young!Shiro; 3 Lance-centric, featuring others; 3 Keith-centric (one with help from Pidge); 3 Ulaz POV. The rest are all Shiro :)

Characters that had the main focus: Exactly the same as last year: Shiro is the clear winner here. I have no regrets.

Answers to more questions beneath the cut!

Specifics:

Best/worst title? Best title: I am that rare breed of creature who loves titles :’) this year it’s a tie between collision and if tomorrow never comes. Both give me chills for different reasons. Worst title: I’m not really fond of cutthroat or relentless, but they’re accurate.

Best/worst first line?

The second-best and sometimes most evil part of a story. Best: if tomorrow never comes      Of all the reasons why Shiro had missed their date, ‘time travel’ is the last thing Keith expects to hear.     :’)

Worst: colors don’t fade     Finding out about Shiro hurts. Yeah, definitely, but also the understatement of the year. Something more riveting and gripping would’ve been a stronger opening for Keith here.

Best/worst last line? The best and also most evil part, too. Best: cutthroat      “My name’s Pidge,” Pidge snaps. The setting sun gleams in her glasses, her brown eyes vicious and hard. “District Three. Who are you?” One of the best plot twists and cliffhangers I pulled off all year.

Worst: colors don’t fade      “That’s Shiro’s number,” Commander Holt says, to the room, to his daughter, to Keith. His face is pale and equally full. Keith can barely breathe. “117-9875 is Shiro’s number. If his file’s here - if he’s in penal lockdown like my son is - then the Arena didn’t kill him after all.” Honestly it’s a good ending, I just don’t like it because I had more story to tell and ran out of time. This one’s entirely on me. There’s more here than I could get to and that irks me.

General questions:

Looking back, did you write more fics than you thought you would this year, less than you thought, or about what you predicted? Bit less. I’d planned on finishing two major WIPs this summer, but grad school and The Move™ took over so much more of life than I expected.

What pairing/genre/fandom did you write that you would never have predicted last year? I wasn’t expecting to foray into ships. I also wasn’t expecting to realize how deeply I love blankets and fluff omg What’s your favorite story this year? Not the most popular, but the one that makes you the happiest. collision :) I love the premise and I’m stupidly proud of the pacing.

Okay, NOW your most popular story. I still have to count smol!Shiro, because it’s still in progress and it still isn’t done. Catch me next year on the wrap-up, too, hopefully with a finished thing~

Story most underappreciated by the universe? daemon!AU got a little less attention than I expected, but in hindsight it was a pretty busy time for folks and the pieces were quite short.

Story that could have been better? I really wish I could’ve spent more time on colors don’t fade. There was at least one more scene I wanted to write, but I ran out of time and energy for it pre-season four, and brooke had already patiently waited long enough. I wanted to do better for her. I also am not super happy with how The Cavalry turned out, but considering I wrote it when I had bronchitis, I guess it’s not bad.

Sexiest story? I started writing ships this year, so I guess.....that? it’s really mild ship as far as ship goes, though, hardly even noticeable most of the time. I don’t read hardcore ship so I don’t know how to write it beyond pining and snuggles, and I’m comfortable with that. Saddest story? enough to endure this. Most fun? collision practically wrote itself, which was awesome. Actually, so did First Steps - I grin wildly when I reread it. I miss writing fun scenes like the first half of that story. Story with single sweetest moment? The entirety of Smol Chapter Nine is so sweet and fluffy it gives me cavities. Also I giggled like a smol child myself writing it, so.

I also am just so partial to this moment in relentless:

Winning means killing three others. No; forty-seven. The odds aren’t good. “Keith,” Shiro manages. “I brought you something,” Keith says, pulling away to dig in his pocket. “Here.” A thin beam of sunlight breaks through the window, glinting weakly off the small copper object in Keith’s hand. “Keith,” Shiro says again, his breath caught in his throat. He cups his hands beneath Keith’s; the little rusted key dangles on the string between Keith’s fingers, between their hands. “I can’t take that from you, that’s - that goes to your father’s - ” “The shack’s a dump and we both know it,” Keith says, before Shiro can. His eyes shimmer, but his chin is set firm. “I need you to take it.” “I can’t,” Shiro breathes. He can’t take his eyes off Keith. “Keith, that’s all you have.” “No, you’re all I have,” Keith corrects, and pushes the key into Shiro’s right hand.

Hardest story to write? Probably The Cavalry, just because of circumstances. I gleefully volunteered to wrap-up the series, and had fun tying all the pieces together, but the timing just wasn’t good. I had to wait until all three other pieces were complete, as well as my grad school applications, and then I got bronchitis and was traveling that same weekend....just couldn’t dedicate myself to it properly or clear my head as much as it deserved.

Easiest/most fun story to write? collision wrote itself, I swear.

Did any stories shift your perceptions of the characters? Yes. I wasn’t expecting to fall in love with writing Ulaz, and how much fun he’s been to explore and develop based off a mere ten minutes of content. I also wasn’t expecting to enjoy writing Lance as much as I did. I put off using his POV for a story until there wasn’t a choice, but he’s actually quite a fun narrator. He’s so stream-of-consciousness that he’s surprisingly easy and relatable to get into.

Most overdue story? parallel was at least a year in coming. I sat on those snippets for entirely too long.

Did you take any writing risks this year? What did you learn from them? This year I posted my first sheith fic, and nobody died :) Which sounds irrational to someone outside the fandom, sure, but I’m glad and relieved. This year I took risks in taking prompts and learning how to answer them. That’s largely been nothing but fun, though I’ve had to learn how to say no to a few things and not feel guilty for them. It’s also been a great lesson in learning when good enough is fine and not waiting until things are perfect. Also, a fantastic way to keep writing and/or get back into it. All the prompts you’ve sent in have been motivating and fun to think about, even if I haven’t gotten to / or won’t quite get to them as I’d hoped. <3 I also learned it’s way easier to start ideas than finish them; fun, yes, but something I’m hoping to improve upon next year.

What are your fic writing goals for next year?

1) Figure out a writing schedule that works with grad school, if that’s even possible. 2) Finish things, including: - The Size Of Our Actions - collision - maybe the epic star wars fic I’ve now been sitting on for a year and a half - and at least one of the AUs (Hunger Games, Star Wars, etc. or....?) 3) Boss has told me I should stop being scared of writing sick!fic

:) happy new year and 2018!

[charmingturkeysandwich]

Knock, Knock Ch. 23: F is for Fire

Didn’t leave you hanging too long, I hope. Please keep in mind I have zero firefighting experience. And, hey, let me know what you think? Hope you enjoy!

Read on AO3.

Start from the beginning on Tumblr.

When they smelled the smoke they should have just run. They should have put on something other than their pajamas, maybe, but beyond that they should have done nothing but snatch up their phones and wallets and head for the fucking hills. They should have just reacted like any normal, scared human would.

But no. They weren’t normal. They didn’t just run away from bad stuff. They ran toward it; they tried to stop it. They were helpers.

Emma loved that about herself, and about Belle. It’s why they became friends in the first place. They were the ride or die kind.

And it appeared they were choosing die today.

Leave it to her to be cracking jokes in her head before she burns to death.

(Hey, she gets bitter when her attempts at helping don’t do a damn thing.)

“Belle! Belle, are you here?”

To be fair, when Emma and Belle had run toward the source of the smoke rather than away, they really weren’t thinking it was going to be life-threatening decision. Kind of like how she figured closet sex in an airport wouldn’t get her on the terror watch list or how she thought becoming friends with her loud next door neighbor couldn’t possibly irrevocably change her life. Oh, how the universe loved to prove her wrong.

The smoke was now so heavy that Emma couldn’t see her fingertips as they slid along the soon-to-melt retro-ass commercial carpet, her attempts to crawl down the hallway not seeming to get her anywhere close to fresh air.  

“Emma!” Belle choked out, somewhere to her left. “Stay low!”

No, Belle, I was planning on going up there where all the heavy smoke and death was.

Fuck, she needed to chill with the snark and focus on surviving.

Focus, focus. One tends to lose focus after the psychopath they were trying to help bops them over the head and throws even more accelerant at the walls of his apartment.

Not only the walls that were currently surrounding her, but also, you know, the one right above Emma’s own dwelling.

Yep, if she ever did crawl her way to safety, she was going to be back living in her fucking car again. Provided, of course, that it wasn’t parked so close to the building that it burned, too. Then she’d really be homeless.

Homeless. And just when she’d found somewhere that had felt safe, the mad fucking hatter upstairs had to go off his meds and in an attempt to cleanse the bad out of his life, he set her living quarters on fire.

She and Belle had been having a delightfully lazy morning. Mimosas with pancake brunch, reruns of mindless comedies, a few rounds of Chutes & Ladders – it was perfect. Emma was anxiously awaiting Killian’s arrival home, and Belle was planning out all the things she was going to yell at Will before inevitably forgiving him. It was as if nothing was going to fuck up their day.

But then they smelled the smoke. It wasn’t visible yet, not downstairs at least. So they slid on some flip flops and shuffled upstairs, following the smell (and eventually the screaming).

“Should we call the police?” Emma had asked (you know, before thinking about to whom she was speaking).

“I am the police, Emma.”

“OK, yes, but not this town’s police. Do you have your phone?”

“No, it’s charging in your room. Do you?”

“No. Of course not.” Why would she bring something like a communications device in a possible emergency? That would only be rational.

“Well, can’t turn back now. Let’s hope he’s just pissed he burned his popcorn.”

Sadly that wasn’t the case. It was dear old Bucky’s door they knocked on – and were at first met with a go the fuck away. Belle kept pounding, insisting they just wanted to help, and something in her plea must have gotten to him because he opened the door. She couldn’t have gotten through to him too well because once they were inside, he did nothing but scream things at the two of them about their gender being the downfall of humanity, about how love was a disease, about how he needed to cleanse the bad out of his life.

It seemed the fire had started on the couch, probably ten minutes before the women had entered the room. Jefferson had piled some photos and letters and what looked like women’s clothing on the multi-colored 70s nightmare of a sofa and tossed a lit Zippo on it like she’d only ever seen in movies. After attempts to reason with the bastard had stalled, Belle had run to the closest fire extinguisher (across the hall in the laundry room) while Emma continued to plea with him to please return to the realm of sanity. But before Belle could return, that sorry ass piece of work excuse for a person slammed the damn door closed and shoved a chair against it, his hand around Emma’s throat tighter than even the nastiest bail jumper she’d encountered.

“Jefferson! Jefferson, nothing in this world could possibly be terrible enough to justify torching the building. Or killing me! Just let me go and let Officer French put out the fire and everything will be OK. It’s all going to be fine. Just stop and think and don’t ruin your life. Everything will be OK. It’ll get better.”

“Sure, that’s easy for you to say, Princess Lovestruck. Remember, these walls and floors here are pretty thin and I know damn well you don’t know any kind of struggle that isn’t purely consensual.” He quirked his eyebrows on the last word in a gesture that would have been seen as only playfully suggestive had his eyes not been full of white-hot rage (and had Emma not been sweating from, you know, an actual fire the psycho had set).

And what a psycho he really was. Emma had obviously known how thin the walls were, that he could hear them, but this somehow made it a whole lot more disgusting. And creepy. And just… once she wasn’t in a life or death situation she was going to reevaluate her sexual choices because the “public” thing was seriously the opposite of thrilling once you got into all the fucking consequences.

(Stupid reality.)

“You think that because I’m – cough – happy now that I wasn’t miserable before?” I suffered plenty enough of my own and I got out. I was dealt a crap hand in this life but I played it best I could and I didn’t lose. I got out of it. Just like you’ll get out of this. Just don’t get yourself killed or, you know, imprisoned before you get there.”

Jefferson looked like he actually might be contemplating her advice, his stormy eyes looking just that much more human, so she’d taken the opportunity to elbow him and twist out of his hold.  She immediately sprinted toward the doorway to remove the chair and let Belle back inside, her constant pounding throughout Emma’s little speech proof that Belle wasn’t giving up. Just as Emma had yanked the chair back and the door flew open, a large object struck her on the head and she dropped. White foam was visible in her periphery so she was pretty sure Belle had probably gotten the extinguisher working, though the fire had already spread from the couch and across the floor to the window.

Visibility was pure shit, so she couldn’t honestly tell the extent of the damage. She’d been more focused on Jefferson than on how the flames were spreading, but it couldn’t have possibly gotten this out of hand in mere minutes, right? Maybe her head wound had her exaggerating the extent of what was happening. Maybe she was just panicking.

But before she could rationalize herself out of dire straits, something crumbled. Loud. It sounded like brick which meant it had been an external wall and not just a piece of furniture or a kitchen cupboard.

Fuck.

Emma rubbed at the bump on her head and tried desperately to right herself, but the vertigo was like ten shots of tequila, and by the time she was steady enough to focus her eyes on the scene again, a terrible realization hit her - after Emma had elbowed Jefferson he had somehow gotten lighter fluid into his hands and he now seemed to be spraying it all over his walls, across the floors, and even on himself.

“Please, stop!” Belle yelled to him. “We can help you!”

Emma grabbed for a nearby bookshelf to help pull herself up and it was like she’d transported into the third circle of Hell or something. Flames were everywhere. Belle was trying to spray Jefferson with the fire extinguisher, but he was constantly moving and igniting even hotter flames with the lighter fluid and before long she was out of juice.

There was a blanket on the not-yet-burning side of the room, so Emma took a chance, grabbing it and lunging at Jefferson (whose clothes were now partially on fire). She’d tackled him to the ground, but he was eliciting PCP-levels of fucking super-strength and as soon as they hit the floor he rebounded, throwing her across the room and smack into a structurally unsound wall. Debris came crashing down on her, but Belle grabbed her hand and tugged her toward the door before she got lost in the rubble.

“Jefferson, please! Just come with us. We’ll help you!” Belle shouted, the ash in the air making her voice scratchy like a lifetime smoker with bronchitis. “Please. It’ll be OK! Come with us!”

“This world ain’t for me anymore, ladies,” Jefferson said, oddly calm for the fact that they were inside a literal inferno at the moment. He looked at each of the women individually, bowed his head, and motioned like he was tipping his (invisible) hat.

And in the blink of an eye, he’d leapt out the second story window in a hail of glass and flame.

Their own safety now at stake, Belle tugged Emma’s arm and the two of them shuffled their way through the debris, the ash-muddled air, past the patches of fire and finally into the hall. As soon as they were outside his door, they hit the ground, desperately searching for a way to get out of the now very-doomed building.

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

Killian was going to kill her if she up and died on him.

-

Why the hell of all the goddamn people he’d made acquaintances with in this godforsaken town, not a single fucking one of them had been a firefighter?

The building wasn’t just on fire. It was ablaze. It was most certainly going to be a total loss, the East side of the building already starting to give and most of the roof caved into the third floor. The fire trucks were now positioning themselves to prevent the fire from spreading to adjacent structures rather than try to stop the current fire – meaning they could tell the building wasn’t going to survive either.

There was still a ladder truck smack in the middle of the road out front, spraying a constant torrent of liquid onto North side of the building, the least damaged and the most likely place for those inside to, you know, still be alive.

Ambulances were lined up in the alley just past Emma’s car, so Killian started toward them, walking with purpose and daring anyone to stop him. If Emma had been home, she’d probably already gotten out. She was probably barking at EMTs to stop doting on her, that she was fine, and to just go take care of someone who actually fucking needed it.

His Emma was a smart one, was a survivor. She’d have gotten herself out.

But it seemed they were only treating one person so far – a man with longer hair and a nearly unrecognizably burned face. There were several people working on him, so not much else could be seen of the man, but his injuries were certainly extensive.

Hope. He needed to keep having hope that Emma wasn’t lost somewhere, looking like that poor dude – except without all the medical attention.

When he realized she wasn’t in the alleyway or around back, he circled back to the front of the building, no longer attempting to be stealthy. Firefighters were rushing the middle entrance, the one that led to the second floor. Were there more people still inside?

“Killian!” he heard. A man’s voice. Familiar, but he couldn’t place it. So he turned and finally noticed the crowd of familiar faces. Survivors. Thank God.

Across the street, just past the fire trucks and police vehicles, stood thirty or more of his neighbors. Some of them he knew by name, others of them he only knew by their laundry schedule or the TV show he could hear them blaring at all hours of the night. But they were at least people he knew, people who might have some clue where the goddamn love of his life had gone – since she clearly wasn’t among this particular group.

“Gus! What happened?” Killian jogged up beside the man, a local tow-truck driver who thankfully seemed unharmed.

“I thought someone had burned their pizza or something. But then there was screaming – I think that dude above you had some kind of meltdown? It seems he started the fire.”

Goddamn Bucky. “You mean Jefferson? I always knew he was crazy…” He shook his head, still in disbelief that this is where his done had gone. “Where is everyone else? I don’t see everyone in this crowd.”

“Well some people weren’t home, I’d imagine. But I do think there are a few people inside. Someone had been trying to stop the guy before he apparently jumped out the window.”

God, this fucker. Killian couldn’t help but hope the man didn’t survive the fall, but twenty feet certainly wasn’t fatal. Then again, if he couldn’t locate Emma in the next five minutes, the fall wasn’t going to be that guy’s problem.

Killian would be. It had probably been him at the ambulance, right? Killian could make his way back there and just “accidentally” hit him with a falling brick.

“So, Emma? Any idea where she might be?” Killian asked, attempting to hide the panic and rage in his voice (but probably sorely failing). It would be just like Emma to try to save the crazy dude. Especially if Belle were still there with her, playing the everyone-deserves-a-chance accomplice.

“I don’t know, man. Maybe she wasn’t inside?”

“Last I knew she was home. Her car’s here. She’s a right idiot when it comes to her own damn safety and it sounds just like her to run off and try to save some nitwit with a death wish!” He hadn’t meant to start screaming. He hadn’t meant to lose his cool.

But he also wasn’t about to lose the love of his goddamn life.

Before Gus could respond, could really even react, Killian stormed off toward the building, determined to get inside.

Nothing was going to stop him. Nothing was going to convince him to back down from this fight because nothing was going to keep him from Emma.

Nothing but an arc flash from the electrical circuits, a blast of heat out the secondary door, and a fully-suited fireman knocking him out of the way, that is.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing here?!” The masked man shouted at him. “You’re going to get yourself killed!”

“My girlfriend! I think she’s inside. Emma!”

The man softened for a moment, shifting his oxygen tank and pushing Killian to the side. “You’re Killian, right? Swan’s your girl?”

“Yes! I need to go. I need to find her. I need to – ”

“Listen, Killian. I was at Graham’s funeral. I saw how much you care for Emma, but please. You need to let us do our work. If she’s up there, we’ll bring her out. I promise.” He paused, gesturing across the street to where the rest of the apartment’s inhabitants were. “She’ll kill me if I let you go in there and die. So get back. Now.”

Logic wasn’t completely lost on Killian – the man had a point. But how could he just stand back when he didn’t know where Emma was, how she was doing, if she was even breathing or conscious or ever going to open those beautiful green eyes ever again?

The fireman whose name he never caught charged back into the building, and a solid weight slammed into Killian’s back, grabbing his arm and pulling him backward. Killian allowed the force – probably a person – to tug him along, but he just stared forward.

Watched the flames dance as they destroyed the awning. Followed the ash as it floated from the wreckage. Stared blankly as his literal home burned down – while his metaphorical home was lost somewhere inside.

-

It was getting dense, the layer of smoke that was penetrating even the air closest to the floor. The building kept rumbling as it shifted, the boards beneath her less and less likely to actually hold her weight much longer.

And she was getting tired, so very tired. Her muscles were a little sore, sure, but it was more than that. It was deep in her chest kinds of tired.

It was smoke inhalation and carbon monoxide poisoning or whatever shit she could remember from her stupid Forensic Files binge watching. She was fucking dying and it wasn’t nearly as theatrical as she thought it would be. It was just sad and pathetic. And slow, far too slow.

Belle was just behind her. She kept her hand on Emma’s ankle so they wouldn’t lose each other, but it was like the hallway was endless, was like the fire escape kept getting further and further away the closer they got to it. Jesus fuck, were they even going the right way? If they finally got to the end of the hall and there wasn’t some type of ladder at the end of it, she was going to be super pissed.

You know, if she wasn’t too dead to have feelings.

Feelings. She missed Killian already. She hadn’t even left him yet, not technically. But she didn’t want to go a place without him. And she didn’t want him to have to be without her.

(They made a pretty good team, you know.)

“Emma… Emma, move,” Belle mumbled, her voice barely audible through the rest of the sounds of destruction. “You have to keep moving. We have to get out of here.”

Emma willed every bit of energy she had left to just making her arms pick up, making her knees drag along the now-definitely-burning floor, desperate to get to safety. She couldn’t think of Killian. Or Mary Margaret or David or Ruby or of any of the other people she’d never see again if she didn’t get out of this hellhole. No, that was just a distraction.

So she focused only on Belle’s hand at her ankle, on all the gumption and pride and badassery the two of them had inside them and picked up the pace. Pieces of ceiling were falling and someone’s hair was burning and it was way too much like the last few minutes of Cabin in the Woods for her liking, her entire reality crumbling before her eyes, but she just kept crawling despite the complete impossibility that she’d ever see the light of day again –

And that’s when something crashed into her head.

(God, this really was the end, wasn’t it?)

But her last remaining vestiges of logic were shouting something at her – the impact hadn’t been on the back of her head, like someone had fallen on her. No, she’d hit the crown of her head. On something in front of her.

A wall. She’d hit a wall.

She’d hit the wall.

Unable to see and barely able to breathe, Emma sat up, feeling around for any sign of a window. She shook the foot that Belle was grasping, hoping to alert her that they may have found their way out. Receiving the message, Belle scooted up next to Emma, feeling around as well.

There were more rumblings behind them and what sounded like voices, but it was probably just the lack of oxygen making her hallucinate, so she kept her focus on finding the way to the other side of that fucking stupid wall that probably re-concussed her recently obtained concussion.

On wobbly legs, Emma tried to stand, to reach just a little higher to see if they were in the right place and to her absolute relief, she felt the telltale sting of getting stabbed by broken glass. “It’s a window! Belle!”

The women both stood, bunching their PJ tops around their elbows to clear away the rest of the broken glass. Flames were shooting above their heads and out the top of the tall window, but Emma leaned out, desperate to get to the fire escape and eventually to the ground.

But of fucking course, just as she’d suspected, they’d gone to the wrong damn end of the building. The fire escape was toward the back – which had been where the fire had already spread. They were now at the front of the building, a clear(ish) view of the city, the fire trucks, the world that wasn’t crashing around them – but absolutely no stairs.

Fuck it.

Despite there being no clear way to the ground and despite not having enough oxygen left in her body to perform any kind of physical task, Emma climbed out of the window and onto a very thin ledge, the ground below now feeling much further away than twenty feet had any right to.

Fire fighters at their posts started yelling to her to wait there, that they’d get the ladder to that window right away, but with Belle still stuck inside behind her, that just wasn’t an option. So instead of waiting for the help that was being offered, Emma tight-roped her way across the building, completely ignoring all commands from below, and leapt off it toward the end of the fire truck.

To her absolute surprise, she actually made it, landing (hard and painfully) on some kind of shiny contraption she’d make sure to learn the function of someday.

“Ma’am! What the fuck was that for?! We were just about to save you.”

“Nobody saves me but me,” was the last thing Emma remembered mumbling before the darkness finally took her.

-

That damn, daft, dumb, idiotic, ridiculous, obnoxious, fucking woman.

The firefighters were probably thirty seconds from getting the ladder to her, from being able to calmly and professionally get her out of the building and safely to the ground. But no, little miss impatient pants has to go a jump off the thing just like the fucking psycho who set the damn fire!

OK, it was slightly different. Emma was just trying to escape. She was probably desperate. And she was aiming to live.

But she was still the dumbest idiot he’d ever known in the history of his time on Earth.

Belle, the ever-sensible one, had waited for the firemen. She’d been carried down the ladder and promptly whisked into the ambulance. Emma had gone there as well, but it took even the strongest guy a moment to hoist her from such a high spot – she was on top the truck, after all.

(Damn stupid woman.)

Gus ran with him to the side of the ambulance Emma was in, tried to use his connections to help beg Killian’s way to Emma’s side, but because they weren’t married and because Emma wasn’t awake to consent, they couldn’t allow him to be transported with her.

God, it was the longest day of his fucking life and it wasn’t even noon yet.

All his pleading to no avail, Killian watched as Emma and Belle were rushed to the nearest hospital, him unable to do anything to help either of them.

After taking a well-earned moment to just rage at the stupid fucking universe for this very not-OK turn of events, Killian – at Gus’s behest – put on his helping cap and started making calls. He told David and Mary Margaret what had happened, had called Will and told him which hospital to go to. He’d stopped off at the local dollar store to grab Emma and Belle some real clothes for when they were ready to be out of hospital gowns (hopefully soon), and made a call to his own renter’s insurance company to file a claim on, you know, everything he fucking owned.

(Hopefully Emma had heeded his warning and gotten some herself, as well.)

All the logistics taken care of, Killian drove to the hospital, announced himself at check-in, and sat completely useless in the waiting room, blankly staring at the empty wall that didn’t even have the decency to be filled with a television screen.

[bitchi-chan]

before you fall

title: before you fall rating: teen and above audiences fandom: haikyuu!! pairing: kageyama tobio/hinata shouyo

You walk past the city rather briskly, hands swaying with the autumn breeze. You bump into faces you do not recognize and mutter an inaudible remark of apology. They don’t seem to care, Kageyama, they never do. Because just like you, they have places to go. And time was never in any one’s hands, so you walk, and walk, and eventually run until the wind was blasting against your face.

You enter the building and this bouncy feeling greets you, along with the white walls and people dressed in uniforms with the same color. It makes you dizzy somehow, but your feet start to move without you realizing it.

Then you were there. Room 136, second floor. And you enter almost immediately. You run a hand through your black, unkept hair and breathe deeply.

There he was, sitting majestically on the bed with his orange hair going in directions. The same old hospital gown draped over his body making him look small. His body has become thinner and frail hands flipped through the pages of a volleyball magazine. But when he saw you, ah, Kageyama, you’d wonder over and over again until your brain short-circuits that “god, what did he do to deserve this.” His smile was wide and bright when he saw you, and his eyes shone with some light of hope or whatever. You don’t know, all you know was that the room had lighten up when he lightened up.

“Hey Kageyama!” His voice was hoarse, but still carried the same chime when he was still up and about, healthy and not bedridden by a lung disease you can’t pronounce.

Hinata Shouyou was dying, Kageyama, and you, you’re trying your best not to fall apart.

X

It was unexpected that his life would have to be cut short. It shocked everyone, it shocked you the most. You trembled, too, when Hinata was shaking and coughed maniacally during practice. You all thought that it was the weather getting to him, but you did not expect blood to spill from his mouth and him fainting from lack of oxygen.

You rushed him to the hospital, along with the team, and you prayed to a god you don’t believe in: let him be okay. It was like a mantra, and you couldn’t have thought of a better prayer because your head was filled with the image of the redhead.

Doctors couldn’t figure it out. Some said it was Bronchitis, others Tuberculosis, and perhaps Pneumonia. The rest claimed that it was an unknown virus. You restrained yourself from shouting at the doctors and nurses because Hinata’s family was there, and it would have been worse if you had thrown a fit right there. So you shut up, held it in and punched a wall behind the hospital after the consultation had ended.

X

Every time you would come to visit, you’d hear your heart beat out of your chest. He was always there, lighting up when visitors came to spend some time. But you were afraid - afraid that one day, he wouldn’t be there anymore, that one day he’s not healthy or sick and he had gone into the other wo-

“Well, don’t just stand there, idiot!” He cried out, a menacing grin written on his lips. Your thoughts were interrupted by his loud voice. You walk towards him, one hand in your pocket and the other grasping the bag of meat buns.

“I don’t want to be called an idiot by an idiot.”

You try your best to visit everyday, as long as time permits, you’d come to that room every single day. You’d talk about everything and anything under the sun, as long as he keeps talking. You’ll never know, your last conversation might be coming.

He started crying, though, when he recalled a time when everything was okay and he didn’t have to breathe problematically without a machine stuck to his nostrils. His sadness touched you, and you were inches apart from breaking down. But you held it in, because you have no right to break down. You were not dying like the redhead who deserved everything good in the world.

“I want to play volleyball with the team, swim at the beach with all of you, but most of all.” He sniffled, bringing his shaking hands to wipe off his tears. “I don’t want to see you with that pained expression, Kageyama.”

You felt a tear run down your cheek, but you quickly wiped it off and instead held Hinata in your arms. You cradled his cheek with your thumb and securely put an arm around his wait, his head resting against your neck. “Don’t do that to me.”

“Do what?”

“That - make me feel things.” He didn’t reply, he continued sobbing into your shoulder, and you breathed, breathed in his scent, savored it.

X

“Yamaaaaaa.” The redhead had his hand rested on his chin. His expression was that of a tabby cat, lazy and asking for attention.

“I want pork buns.”

“The store ran out of it, idiot, I told you that for the nth time already.”

“But-” Hinata rested his head against your shoulder, you suppressed a blush from creeping onto your face. “When someone’s dying, you have to give them everything they want, riiiiight?”

“Stop that, you’re not dying.”

“Mhm, now go get me pork buns.”

“No.” You looked at him questionably, and his lips had settled into a smirk. “Can I get you something else than pork buns?”

He shifted his position, sitting up properly. You looked at him and waited for an answer. It was just mere seconds when the redhead started to blush, his cheeks tainted red and his ears perked up. You wonder why the hell was he blushing furiously.

“What? Tell me what you want.”

“Ugh, no nevermind.”

“Spill it, I don’t do favors easily so now’s your chance.”

“But….” You click your tongue. Your patience was being tested, and you know damn well you’re not a patient person.

“Spit it out!”

“Okay!” He exclaimed, his cheeks were still flaming. “I want you to…. Give me a kiss.”

Oh.

A silence had settled upon you. Your heart rate got faster and you just want to swoop him by how adorable he looked. But you were frozen there, by shock and undeniable satisfaction.

And you leaned it and caught his lips with yours.

He tasted like grape vitamins and mint. His lips were chapped, though, but you couldn’t care less. He kissed back, Kageyama, and both of your faces were on fire.

X

Kageyama, did you know? That you loved him. You acknowledged those feelings, but you couldn’t tell him. You knew it was just a crucial time and just suddenly saying it would definitely confuse him. He won’t return your feelings, that’s what you always thought, you were a jerk to him.

But what if he loved you back? Would you spend the rest of your life regretting that you never acted on your feelings? Or would you spend it with hating yourself because you confessed to him when you know damn well he didn’t need that right now?

But time was ticking and life was short.

X

You decide not to tell him.

It’s for the best, that’s what you thought.

X

“Hey Kageyama.” It was several nights after you first kissed, but you never really admitted what you felt towards the redhead, neither did he.

“Yeah?”

“You wouldn’t forget me right?”

“What? Of course not.”

“That’s good to hear.” He smiled again.

“I wouldn’t forget even if I was dead.”

“Ew, necrophilia.”

“Now way in fucking hell, Hinata.”

He chuckles beautifully. His eyebags are getting darker and his cheekbones were getting more noticeable. You thought he was still beautiful though. Nonchalantly, you brush your fingers against his hair.

Then you caress his cheek, he melts into your touch. You fix your gaze unto his eyes, and he gazes back. You stare at each other for what it felt like forever, then you inch closer to his face, eyes still not straying.

His purple lips unfurl like a rose. You both lean in, and your lips are touching again, warmth enveloping around you.

Your heart beats against your ribcage as you deepen the kiss, biting his lower lip with your teeth. You hear him moan, making your skin crawl with excitement, the same anticipation moving along your thighs, pants getting tighter. You lick his lower lip, asking for entrance, asking for more, and he opens his mouth, letting your tongue slide in tomexplore his insides religiously. You snake your tongue against the roof of his mouth and he lets out this sexy moan that entices you to get deeper. His arms were latched against your neck, your hands on his cheek.

When you pull apart for air, your eyes meet and you both heat up, blood rushing to your face. But you stay there, his arms around your neck and yours against his cheeks, caressing his flesh with your thumbs.

“Shoyou, I…”

“Shh, Tobio.”

And you looked immaculate, clinging onto each other like that. And you prayed, and prayed and prayed that he would stay a little longer, or just lift his sickness permanently. You begged the stars to let you have him until you were gray and old.

X

At the funeral, you brought forget-me-nots, in contrast with the peonies and daffodils most people brought. You laid them down beautifully on his ebony-colored casket, the same shade as your hair. You didn’t shed a tear, even through the eulogies his friends and family spoke, even when you came up to the podium and delivered your speech, you did not let your eyes water.

You told everyone he was an idiot, clumsy and dense, and everyone tried their best to laugh through it, because it was true. But you continued, and told the crowd, the whole world that he was the first person to ever make you feel important, to make you feel loved. You told them that Hinata Shouyou was an incredible and spontaneous person who was easy to befriend but difficult to let go. And you told them, and yourself, to never forget this wonderful person, the ex-ace, your ex-partner and your perpetual love.

At the end of the funeral, Hinata’s mother gave you a letter sealed in a light orange envelope, you politely excuse yourself, went home and lay exhausted on your bed. Then you read the letter.

To: Kageyama Tobio

By time you read this, I would have gone now. But that’s okay! At least I’m not suffering from this nasty disease anymore. But, I would have preferred it if I’d stay alive and recover fully. Dreams are dreams, yeah?

It’s actually hard for me to say your name without me melting, it’s like my heart is all “gwaah!!!” and “woooh!!” when I do. But when you kissed me and held me in your arms the night we let our feelings burst, my heart felt light and I was able to say it. I never told you ‘i love you’ face-to-face and neither did you, but I felt it strongly with the way you look at me, and wished I could have said it to you, but I know I couldn’t especially during the time I was sick. You are the first person to ever make me feel like this and that just scares me, 'cause who would have thought that I would fall for my ultimate rival?

Tobio, I have loved you for what it felt like years. You have brought out the best in me, both inside and outside the court. Thank you for always keeping me company through my ups and downs during my confinement. I always felt you were tired from volleyball practices and school but you managed to squeeze me into your tight schedule. Whenever I’m sad, you always try to cheer me up (even if you suck at it) and you stood patiently with me even through my sickness, and with that, I am eternally grateful.

I would have loved it if I could stay a little longer and spend my days with the team, with my family, with you. But my time has come and we just need to accept it, right? I’ll watch you from over the clouds. I’ll protect everyone the best I can. So don’t do anything stupid and follow me - I am not even kidding. Promise me you’ll grow old until your arthritis is bad and your teeth can’t chew anymore. Hahaha! I’m kidding. But please, I want you to live a life without regrets. Live every day like it’s your last. Live it with passion, Tobio, even without me.

Kageyama Tobio, thank you for being my first and last love.

Yours forevermore, Hinata Shouyou

And you cried.

see more: http://archiveofourown.org/users/shsl_bitchi_chan/pseuds/shsl_bitchi_chan

[not-a-realexchangeblog]

Eurovision 2016 vs. 2017

Ok I know I’m already a little extra about Eurovision, but I really wanted to make this comparison between last year’s entries vs this year’s, mostly to organize my thoughts about the 2017 contest. Eurovision mutuals feel free to hmu with your opinions! (my top out of the 2016 and 2017 entries for each country will be bolded) (Also I stole this idea from @eurosong )

Albania: Fairytale vs World

Alright I think we can all agree that both of these songs should’ve skipped the Albanian to English revamp. Both were pretty mediocre in English, but I think I can get behind Lindita as being the better vocalist here. 

Armenia: LoveWave vs Fly with Me 

Will Fly with Me make any of my Spotify playlists? No probably not. But I have to appreciate Armenia’s attempt to produce an entry that honors both Armenian and East Asian cultural elements. It’s going to be one of the more interesting acts in Kyiv that’s for sure. 

Australia: Sound of Silence vs Don’t Come Easy

This decision was pretty easy, and not because I was a fan of Dami or her act. Don’t Come Easy is ridiculously bland and just makes me kind of sad watching it.

Austria: Loin d’ici vs Running on Air

Good thing we can count on Austria for songs with cutesy lyrics that don’t cut deep in any way whatsoever. Running on Air however is considerably less repetitive than Loin d’ici. Though I wanted to like Loin d’ici for the sole fact it was in French, the children’s book-esque staging and lyrics left me bitter it made it to the finals. 

Azerbaijan: Miracle vs Skeletons

Ok so I originally really liked the video for Miracle and had Samra easily in my top 10. Then she performed it live at the semis and made me want to put my ears out of their misery- one of my biggest ESC 2016 disappointments. If Dihaj can sing Skeletons live better than my cat could, it’s the clear winner of the two. 

Belarus: Help you fly vs Historyja majgo zyccia

The most clear choice I made on this entire list. To me Naviband brings such a modern folk feel to Eurovision that we haven’t seen from anyone else this year and their use of Belarusian saved Slavic language from extinction in the contest. Maybe if ESC had approved Ivan’s live wolves last year I would’ve felt more nostalgic towards his act too? 

Belgium: What’s the pressure vs City Lights

City Lights hands down. Belgium decided in one year that they decided to advance 4 decades in musical style. I guess what was cringiest about What’s the Pressure to me was that it couldn’t quite decide what era it belonged to. If you’re going to bring disco garbage to Eurovision at least commit to it. 

Bulgaria: If love was a crime vs Beautiful Mess

Honestly, If Love was a Crime’s performance in the finals shocked me. I think its upbeat style was superior to Bulgaria’s entry this year, though I have to admit I wasn’t a fan. Possibly because it took me 6 months to  figure out that she was saying  дай ми любовта in Bulgarian as opposed to incomprehensible English.

Croatia: Lighthouse vs My Friend

Feel like I’m comparing apples to oranges here, but for me the bronchitis, hair and wardrobe disaster edges out the Italian opera/English pop worst of both worlds act. 

Cyprus: Alter Ego vs Gravity

Not gonna lie, I still listen to Alter Ego. Back in 2016 I knew it wasn’t the style for Eurovision, but at least it was ORIGINAL. Gravity isn’t as bad as the Youtube comments would suggest, but it’s definitely a step back for Cyprus when it comes to originality. 

Czechia: I Stand vs My Turn

Both are garbage. But props to Czechia for finally qualifying. 

Denmark: Soldiers of Love vs Where I Am

A bit of a hard choice. I’m always down for a boy band though, and to me, Lighthouse X beats out the screecher from Down Under. 

Estonia: Play vs Verona

Unpopular opinion: Juri wasn’t ripped off. Though I didn’t want him in the grand finals, he’s still better than the toxic duo Estonia promoted this year. 

Finland: Sing it away vs Blackbird

At least Sing it Away was fun ?  Finland is not performing to the best of their potential. Regardless of whether Blackbird’s “staging is amazing”, its lack of climax and generally disappointing vocals will 100% keep it in the semis. 

France: J’ai cherché vs Requiem

Frankly both are incredible and Eurovision is one of the only things I love about France. (Requiem would’ve been my winner had it not been for the English chorus no one asked for)

Georgia: Midnight Gold vs Keep the Faith

Unpopular opinion #2: Keep the Faith is in my Top 3 for 2017. I really do not understand the hate Tako gets- I think her song has an amazing message and outstanding vocals (that will hopefully be a little less screechy in the semis). When this song inevitabley does not qualify for the finals, I will lose hope in ESC. 

Germany: Ghost vs Perfect Life

Unpopular opinion #57584948: I vibed with Ghost. Is it my proudest confession? nope. Perfect Life SCREAMS Black Smoke 2015 and we know how that went. 

Greece: Utopian Land vs This is Love

Utopian Land was gross, but its one saving grace was the Greek lyrics. This is Love sounds like it came off the credits of a live action Disney film that flopped hard. That being said, I’m not buying Greece’s “safe” selection to get back into the finals this year. 

Hungary: Pioneer vs Origo

I’m convinced that if I had smoked 5 packs a day and hit the gyms leading up to Eurovision 2016, I could’ve out-performed Freddie. Origo isn’t exactly the shining beacon of Eurovision multilingualism for me, but the Balkan musical elements help detract from the awkward voice and rap. 

Iceland: Here them calling vs Paper 

Here them calling didn’t deserve the finals and neither does Paper. Paper’s lyrics are not “deep” “next level” or “misunderstood”, there were way better lyrics to be written to speak up about emotional health. trust me. 

Ireland: Sunlight vs Dying to Try

Honestly I don’t care enough to take a strong stance. I don’t know how Ireland did it in the 90′s because now they are ~Forgettable~

Israel: Made of Stars vs I Feel Alive 

I loved Hovi. His song and vocal abilities were incredible. Personally would’ve ditched the unnecessary ring prop/backup dancers that killed the live performance. Israel is another country that rarely fails me at Eurovision, and I’m excited for Imri Ziv this year. 

Italy: No degree of separation vs Occidentali’s Karma

No Degree of Separation was one of the songs that gradually grew on me last year and I was rooting for Francesca in the finals. Her nervous stage presence is what puts Occidentali’s Karma on top for me. Occidentali’s Karma really embodies the spirit of Eurovision this year, but I’m curious to see how Francesco deals with the clunky verse two black hole. 

Latvia: Heartbeat vs Line 

Didn’t think Heartbeat deserved the finals last year but it sure as hell deserved it more than Line does. Line is not cool creepy, it’s just creepy. I’m predicting another sub-par year for the Baltics. 

Lithuania: I’ve been waiting for this night vs Rain of Revolution 

Despite my apathy towards the Baltic countries, Donny was by far the act that grew on me the most last year. I might’ve reluctantly subjected myself to I’ve Been Waiting for This Night only a handful of times before the finals, but I must admit I’ve listened to it since. 12 points from me for the flip on stage. 

Macedonia: Dona vs Dance Alone 

KALIOPI IS MY QUEEN AND I CRIED WHEN EUROPE CRUSHED HER HOPES AND DREAMS

Malta: Walk on water vs Breathlessly 

Props for performing Walk on Water while prego? Also, Breathlessly is arguably the most boring ballad of 2017

Moldova: Falling Stars vs Hey, Mamma! 

The only redeeming quality of Hey, Momma! is that Epic Sax Guy is back. Luckily, that’s one more redeeming quality than Moldova’s last entry had. 

Montenegro: The Real Thing vs Space  

I refuse to even rank these because both are total shit and Montenegro should go back to producing cultural gems or just drop out of Eurovision. 

Netherlands: Slow down vs Lights and Shadows  

Have to go with Douwe Bob on this one. Slow Down was one of my favorites all of last year and The Netherlands have proven that country can work at Eurovision. Lights and Shadows could rival it for me, but this depends a lot on the staging and live performance (I wasn’t a fan of the artistic choices made in the video). 

Norway: Icebreaker vs Grab the Moment  

Not sure how I feel about the bridge to Grab the Moment, but almost anything is better than Icebreaker. 

Poland: Color of your life vs Flashlight  

Polish Jesus brought life to Eurovision last year and I am forever grateful. Flashlight is another boring balad but will do well bc Poland. 

Portugal: Há um mar que nos separa vs Amar pelos dois

My buddy Salvador got lucky here because although I enjoy the song, his stage presence is by far the most uncomfortable I’ve seen. I’ll probably close my eyes for the semis. 

Romania: Moment of Silence vs Yodel It!  

1. Romania’s disqualification last year was a tragedy 2. No one asked for Rap/Yodel fusion and it’s as shitty as it sounds

Russia: You are the only one vs Flame Is Burning  

Glad Russia viewed using a disabled person as a shield against booing as higher of a priority than sending another quality act this year  

San Marino: I didn’t know vs Spirit of the Night  

At least Serhat was bad in an endearing kind of way. San Marino needs to stick with the ironically awful acts. 

Serbia: Shelter vs In Too Deep  

Shelter is the superior performance here, but I’m still waiting for another Marija Serifovic

Slovenia: Blue and red vs On My Way  

I’ll take the Slovenian Taylor Swift knockoff over the Sloevnian sexual predator any day. I’m also ashamed to be Slovenian. 

Spain: Say yay! vs Do It for Your Lover

 Do It for Your Lover is bad but not

that

bad. Say Yay! hurt my ears right at the first chorus. An entirely Spanish entry would be my preference, but apparently the Spanish jury doesn’t feel the same way. 

Sweden: If I were sorry vs I Can’t Go On

I guess I never got hit by the Frans train last year. Sweden sends the most basic, mainstream songs to Eurovision year after year and somehow does well. These two songs are no exception. 

Switzerland: Last of our kind vs Apollo  

Anything over Last of our Kind and whatever the hell her dance was. On the other hand, maybe it was the kind of comedic relief we need out of Eurovision. I’m personally not a fan of Apollo but I think it will probably do well. 

Ukraine:1944 vs Time

Hard choice, but in the end, 1944 was a winner. I was a huge fan of 1944 all the way (mostly because of the Tatar) but I am also a fan of Time. In a year with so many ballads (both good and bad), Time will certainly stick out and I wish them the best. 

United Kingdom:You’re not alone vs Never Give Up on You

You’re Not Alone was at least cute and cheesy. Never GIve Up on You is only a cheesy and fake ballad. Both songs manage to get stuck in your head, but not necessarily in a good way. 

[smartworkingpackage]

Thunder, Lightning, and Revisions—Mark Twain and Creativity

“You need not expect to get your book right the first time. Go to work and revamp or rewrite it. God only exhibits his thunder and lightning at intervals, and so they always command attention. These are God’s adjectives.” – Mark Twain, in an 1878 letter.

Samuel Langhorne Clemens was many things: a steamboat pilot, a prospector, a reporter, a world traveler, a lecturer, an investor (mostly a bad one), an inventor (with three patents; two successful, one not), a father, and, most importantly, the author known as Mark Twain.

What he was not was either particularly organized or industrious.

This is not to say he wasn’t prolific; he turned out novels, essays, plays, reviews, and letters by the score. He just wasn’t a slave to work.

Strike While the Iron Is Hot

Alex Applebaum, in a review of Bernard DeVoto’s 1942 Mark Twain at Work, noted of Twain’s working habits that

Twain worked “sporadically” depending on fits of “inspiration.” Instead of forcing himself to work for a certain amount of time, [he] relied heavily on “improvisation” and would sometimes work furiously for days; sometimes not write at all; sometimes start projects and leave them hanging for years; sometimes finish them quickly … He didn’t finish nearly as much as he started, but, nevertheless, he wrote prolifically. There are still thousands of unpublished pages and ideas he never carried through with.

What can we learn from this? To write and write and write some more—when inspiration strikes. Make note of everything. Don’t censor yourself. Even if an idea may seem useless now, it could well turn into something valuable later. Keep journals, diaries, notes, or even a blog. Even if an idea doesn’t lead anywhere on its own, it may provide the spark for something that does. The only mistake would be to not let your native creativity express itself when the time is right.

What Works Best Is What’s Right for You

While there are indeed times when we want to write or communicate your ideas with a specific goal or project in mind, don’t let not having a specific result hinder you. Twain’s approach in this regard was noted when the revised edition of his autobiography was published in 2010. Robert H. Hirst, the General Editor of the Mark Twain Project and the Curator of the Mark Twain Papers at the University of California, Berkeley, told NPR’s David Bianculli that

Twain … “hit upon the right way to do an autobiography” … What he had discovered … was the art of dictation. Instead of writing down his autobiography, Twain wanted to tell stories to another human being. And instead of telling his life story in chronological order, Twain wanted to talk about what interested him at that moment—and to allow himself to change the subject as soon as his interest flagged.

Twain dictated most of that autobiography from his bed. In 1905, he told A.E. Thomas of The New York Times:

“Whenever I’ve got some work to do I go to bed. I got into that habit some time ago when I had an attack of bronchitis… I liked it so well that I kept it up after I got well. There are a lot of advantages about it. If you’re sitting at a desk, you get excited about what you are doing, and the first thing you know… somebody comes in to attend to the fire, he interrupts you and gets you off the trail of that idea you are pursuing.So I go to bed… Work in bed is a pretty good gospel—at least for a man who’s come, like me, to the time of life when his blood is easily frosted.”

While Twain’s “working” methods may seem both antithetical to productivity and unique to him (how many of us can perform our daily tasks from a comfortable feather bed or dictate our thoughts to a handy stenographer?), there are lessons to be drawn from them. There is much to be said for allowing one’s creativity to flow freely with no inhibitions; to get something down on a page or contributed to a project. You can always develop and edit ideas, but the initial spark of creativity should never be denied. Those ideas may sit fallow for months (or even years), but they exist and you can expand upon them later when you’re ready.

All Work and No Play …

Perhaps Twain’s disdain for traditional working methods had to do with the fact that he didn’t consider what he did to be “work.” In the same Times interview, he told Thomas that he had never done

“…a day’s work in all my life. What I have done I have done because it has been play. If it had been work I shouldn’t have done it.

Who was it who said, ‘Blessed is the man who has found his work?’ Whoever it was he had the right idea in his mind…When we talk about the great workers of the world, we really mean the great players of the world. The fellows who groan and sweat under the weary load of toil that they bear never can hope to do anything great.”

He expounded on this point in his 1889 novel, A Connecticut Yankee in King Arthur’s Court (that savagely ridiculed capitalism and the looming “Golden Age” of plutocrats) by having his surrogate protagonist say:

“Intellectual “work” is misnamed; it is a pleasure, a dissipation and its own highest reward. The poorest paid architect, engineer, general, author, sculptor, painter, lecturer, advocate, legislator, actor, preacher, singer, is constructively in heaven when he is at work; and as for the magician with the fiddle-bow in his hand who sits in the midst of a great orchestra with the ebbing and flowing tides of divine sound washing over him—why certainly, he is at work, if you wish to call it that, but lord, it’s a sarcasm just the same. The law of work does seem utterly unfair—but there it is, and nothing can change it: the higher the pay in enjoyment the worker gets out of it, the higher shall be his pay in cash, also.”

Today, so many of us get caught up in our day jobs (that can, admittedly, be drudgery) that we don’t allow ourselves to take the time to think, reflect, and enjoy the freedom of expressing ourselves and preserving our own observations and ideas. The thought of actually sitting at a keyboard—or, worse, actually putting pen to paper!—can seem like schoolwork or a chore. But how often do we get the chance to be with ourselves and commit what we really think and feel in a permanent form? Sure, coming up with a pithy tweet or a vague Facebook status is nice, but how much better to give ourselves the freedom to really dig into and examine an idea or a concept to ourselves? It’s not like anyone else has to see it or read it; the mere chance to think and write about an idea develop creative muscles that can be useful when they’re really needed for something to be expressed publically.

  There’s No Such Thing as an Original Idea

To duplicate and use Twain’s methods would honor the man who expressed the notion that there were no original ideas; just borrowings and expansions of the work and ideas of others. In 1892, author and humanitarian Helen Keller was accused (and acquitted) of plagiarism. After reading about the case in Keller’s own autobiography, Twain was moved to write her, saying:

Oh, dear me, how unspeakably funny and owlishly idiotic and grotesque was that “plagiarism” farce! As if there was much of anything in any human utterance, oral or written, except plagiarism! The kernel, the soul—let us go further and say the substance, the bulk, the actual and valuable material of all human utterances—is plagiarism. … It takes a thousand men to invent a telegraph, or a steam engine, or a phonograph, or a telephone or any other important thing—and the last man gets the credit and we forget the others. With this in mind, it almost behooves us to expose ourselves to as much knowledge and inspiration we can find from any source in order to synthesize it and, ironically, make it our own. Read anything you can. Write down notes and observations.”

(The edited versions of Twain’s own notebooks and journals of just his first 36 years as a writer run to more than 2,200 pages.)

Let inspiration take you to the familiar and imaginary. Travel. People-watch. Get out of your comfort zone and see things and meet people that are “strange” and unfamiliar in order to make them familiar and then share those unique insights with others. Make yourself the most interesting person in the room because you’ve been there and done that—and can express it in colorful and exciting terms. (Though two more precepts from Twain should be noted here: “As to the adjective: when in doubt, strike it out.” and “Use plain, simple language, short words, and brief sentences. That is the way to write English—it is the modern way and the best way. Stick to it; don’t let fluff and flowers and verbosity creep in.” What good are even the best observations if they get lost in the underbrush?)

In his notebook for 1902-1903, Twain may have given his most trenchant tip: “The time to begin writing an article is when you have finished it to your satisfaction. By that time, you begin to clearly and logically perceive what it is that you really want to say.” So, if you’ll excuse me, I think I need to now to start over again the beginning …

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