#but like I'm always have to put my earbuds in to try and drown out what should be her internal monologue

[daisywords]

...

[sassykio4fun]

Girls this, Girls that!

tom kaulitz x female!reader

You sunk deeper into the stiff cushion of your plane seat, turning the volume of your ipod up to its limit, attempting to drown out the familiar voice you loathed- Tom Kaulitz voice.

Tokio hotel and your band were currently on tour together, on the way towards your next destination.

Unfortunately for you, you got a seat right beside him, but you did get the window seat, so that makes the experience a bit better in your honest opinion.

It's not that he's a bad person, it's just that he's not that interesting to you. All he talks about is girls, girls, and more girls, it gets old, very fast.

Like right now, he's rambling to his brother-Bill, about how 'smoking' the flight attendant is and how he'd like to take her to the bathroom-and so on.

Taking out an earbud, you turned towards him. "Hey! You think you can lower your voice just a bit?" You questioned him, tensed hand lifting up, thumb and pointer-finger as close as possible, emphasizing 'just'.

The boy cleared his throat, "Yeah, sorry, I was just talking about that fli-" "I heard, that's why I asked you to lower your voice." You interrupted before he went on one of his tiring rants again.

You go to lift your earbud towards your ear when you hear his voice again. "Do you have something against me or something?" Tom questioned, eyebrows scrunched, a bothered expression on his usually smug face.

"I have absolutely no problem with you, Tom." You answered him, looking down at your ipod, not wanting to converse with him anymore than you already had.

He furrowed his eyebrows, teeth grazing his pirecing in thought. "You sure?" he question, narrowing dark eyes at you. "You seem to get along just fine with all of my bandmates, having full conversations and all."

"I don't think we would get along, our personalities just don't go together." You sighed out, shooting him a fake smile.

"How so? You haven't even attempted to get to know me, not one conversation." He responded, cocking his head to the side, body facing you now.

You take your reamining earbud out retorting, "I've heard what you talk about from afar, like I said, we would not get along." You turn, face to face with him now.

"What things have I said that would make you think we wouldn't get along?" he inquired, folding his hands together, leaning against your shared armrest.

Blowing air from your nose you explained, "Everytime you open your mouth, it's always about some girl, this girl, that girl, it's on repeat, Tom."

"Hey, if I see a hot girl, I'm gonna call it out, what's the problem with that." He remarked, a smirk on his face now.

"Right." You deadpanned, turning away, facing the seat infront of you, going to grab your earbuds again.

He placed his hands on you earbuds, stopping you from blocking him out. "I was just joking." he rushed out, "Kind of." he added after a second thought.

Your turned back toward him with a questioning look, "What now?" you grumbled, tugging your earbuds from his fingers.

"Look, we're gonna be together these next few of weeks, don't you think we should at least try and get along, you know fans are seeming to catch onto our supposed 'beef'?" he asked, tilting his head to the side, eyebrows raised.

Sucking your teeth, you took in his pleading expression. "That would be a good idea, BUT, only if you calm down with your girl talk, atleast around me, I do mean it when I say that it's annoying." you hold up your fore-finger, showing him that you're serious.

He tsked, "I mean I can try, but you know, seeing as that's the only thing I talk about, it'll be a little difficult." he coughed out, hiding a laugh.

"Haha, very funny." you rolled your eyes, lips twitching up as you go through song on you ipod, finally putting your earbuds back in.

"Sooo, what are you listening to?" Tom asked, face hovering over your eyepod, huffing, you handed him one of your earbuds, knowing this was gonna be a long flight- a good one or bad one you didn't know.

Hello! Hope you enjoyed this.🎀

[paladin--strait]

raging flame - j.drysdale

jamie drysdale x reader

tw!: none other than some language! jamie is still with the ducks in this story! reader can be portrayed as any body type and y/n is used in place of a specific name for the reader.

warning! this story is a work of fiction! players are real but names that are used as media personnel or staff for the ducks are from my imagination. fair warning, this story is very cringey and fast paced with a seemingly rushed ending. however, that's how I intended the ending to be. also, I'm still trying to figure out the way that I like to write and everything. constructive criticism is always appreciated!

the air conditioned breeze from the arena is cold when I walk into the building. I breathe a sigh of relief as I shove my hands further into my pants pockets. the light music that's playing from my earbud is enough to help drown out the slight noises coming from the other ear.

I spot my new coworkers that I have yet to meet as they stand around, sipping their coffees and from what I've heard so far, talking about today's media assignments. the deep breath I take to mentally prepare myself for comes out a bit louder than I hoped, causing some of them to look and me.

"oh my gosh hi! you must be y/n!" a girl slightly taller than me runs up to me and shakes my hand excitedly. "we were just talking about today's assignments and we decided that we want you to just take some pictures for today! ya know, walk around the rink, maybe get in there and skate around to take some shots? how does that sound??" she smiles and asks me.

"oh uh, I can definitely do that! one small problem, though. I can't skate..." I chuckle and look down. "also, I didn't seem to catch your name?"

"oh I'm so sorry! my name is katie! I kinda run all of the media accounts. oh! and you not being able to skate shouldn't be a problem! we have some shoes with little spikes on them that you can wear." she says, grabbing me by my shoulders and taking me down a long hallway.

"won't the spikes mess up the ice?" I ask, taking my earbud out and putting it back in the case while we walk.

"no. at least not much. we tested them out with the guys a while back and it didn't bother any of them." she says, waving a hand in the air as we step into a room with way more people than before. some of them are running around with cameras, some with microphones, and some are just lingering around or talking to other coworkers.

"this is what we call the media room. it has all of the equipment that is needed for your assignments. each worker gets a cubby slash locker type thing to keep all of their things in. that includes your cameras, lenses and what not. a lot of people here have their cameras or other equipment set a certain way and they don't like it to be changed. so everyone here has either brought their own professional equipment or they get it from us. but all of it has to stay in your locker that has your name on it." katie says, bringing me over to my locker and opening it, revealing some brand new equipment for me to use.

"wow...so I get to use all of this? and I can set it up the way I want to and everything?" I ask her, picking up a camera and playing with the settings some before looking up at her and smiling.

"yup! just be sure it doesn't get broken. if it does, don't worry about it the first time. but the rest of the broken equipment will come out of your paycheck from then on depending on how the equipment is broken." she explains.

we chat a little more about worker safety and she gives me the shoes I need to be on the ice. as I lace them up, I realize how scary being on the ice can be with all of these big and tough hockey players. I tell myself it's okay and that I'll never get over a fear of something if I just don't do it.

I grab the brand new camera and set it to my preferred settings that I've used for previous jobs. but, I have to take in to account the fact that these are fast moving players and I haven't done this type of job in a couple of years. so I take out my phone and go into my notes app, searching for my old note that has my preferred sports settings on it.

when I begin my trek to the arena, I notice it getting colder. I try to warm myself up by rubbing my hands together while the camera lightly swung from my neck. when I step into the open practice arena, I think to myself that I will probably need to bring warmer clothes for tomorrow and that I should keep an extra hoodie, jacket, or blanket in my locker.

the sound of skates is enough to soothe my mind from all of my stress and to help me realize that I would definitely need to take some skating lessons. before I know it, I'm getting called over by a coach or manager of some sort. I take quick and long strides to get to him.

he tells me that the guys are about to do some stick handling drills and that I should get on the ice to take some pics. I feel like he can sense my nervousness since he reassures me that everything will be okay and that I can stay near the boards to keep out of the way.

my shoes make a clicking sound of some sort as I step into the ice and the grip I have on wall is somewhat helping me. "oh fuck, lookout!" I turn around and run back to the manager who was sitting on the players seats in the box. he laughs as he watches my reaction but assures me that it's okay. he decides to walk out with me and help me out with some good angles for shots after I get a feel of what the drill they're doing consists of.

as they skate by, the shutter of the camera captures some awesome shots. the guys soon take a break to get water and whatnot, and the general manager, nick, waves a couple of the players over. they soon come up to me and nick and the first thing I notice about all of them is that they're way taller than me and the manager, who is about my height.

"morning, general" one of the players with big fluffy hair says, jokingly saluting nick.

"morning, zegras." nick says with a chuckle before addressing the other players as well. "and morning to you two as well, jamie, mason. I'd like you guys to meet a new member of our media team. this is y/n l/n and this is her first day. I'm gonna leave you guys to talk for a bit while you're on break and I expect you all to treat her with the utmost respect." nick says, smiling at all of us before making his way off the ice and soon disappearing into a hallway.

after he disappears, we all turn and look at each other, an awkward scilence has seemingly taken nicks place. I nod awkwardly and introduce myself. we soon begin making conversation and while trevor and mason seem very nice and talkative, I notice that this jamie guy doesn't seem to talk much. maybe he's one of those people who don't open up for a while.

soon trevor and mason are called over by a couple of their other teammates to chat, which now leaves me with jamie. "sorry I haven't talked to you much..." he mutters, looking off to the other side of the rink.

"it's alright. I understand completely." I say, laughing as I tuck my hands back into my pants pockets with a shiver. I should've known to wear more appropriate attire for a literal ice rink. "sometimes its awkward for me to meet new people as well...as you can see" I state with a really awkward chuckle.

"hey, aren't you cold?" he asks, suddenly making eye contact with me with a concerned look on his face. "follow me." he states, grabbing my hand and pulling me off the ice before I can answer his question.

"uhm where are we going?" I ask, trying to look down the long hallway he's taken me down before we make a sudden turn. I soon realize that we're in the locker room for the players and jamie is taking me to his cubby.

"here, take this. it should keep you warm. it's been sitting in front of the heater for a while to keep it dry and stuff so it should be nice and toasty." he smiles, handing me his jersey.

"oh no, it's okay! I don't want to get it dirty." I decline, pushing back into his hands.

"no. you're just wearing a thin long sleeve shirt. you're cold, don't even try to deny it. if you're really worried about it getting dirty, just wash it and bring it back tomorrow!" he says with a smile, insisting that I wear it. "if it gets stained somehow, don't worry. we have two extra backup jerseys of each kind for a reason." he laughs.

I smile at him softly, finally giving in and pulling the jersey over my head. and he's right, its warm. I begin to feel a heat flush over my cheeks so I turn away, hoping he doesn't see it. but as I'm turning away, I catch a glimpse of his face and its beet red. "hes blushing..." I think to myself.

"well, we should head back. break might be over now and I don't feel like skating suicides." jamie states with an awkward laugh, before walking with me out of the locker room and back into the rink. "I hope my jersey keeps you warm." he says, giving me a wink before skating back onto the ice and joining the team huddle right on time.

katie comes up to me, "where did you two run off to so fast? I came in here in just enough time to catch a glimpse of him dragging you off somewhere and then you two walking back together a few minutes later." she asks, cocking a brow.

"oh uhhh...he just noticed that I was cold and let me wear his jersey. it's been sitting in front of the warmer so it's really warm and he didn't want me to be cold." I say, smiling softly.

"I see. jamie is a good guy. he's always thinking of others."

"is he usually very quiet? when I was talking to him, trevor, and mason, just the three of us, he wasn't very talkative." I question, snapping a few pictures of the team all together in their group huddle while I speak.

"what? I wouldn't say he's as loud or as outgoing as trevor, but he's usually pretty close to it." katie says, face contorting into a look of confusion as she carefully thinks over my words. "maybe he's nervous that there's a new person around and he wants to impress you."

"oh well I don't want to distract anyone..." I say, snapping my head to look at her, a look of shock on my face. "I don't want them to get in trouble because they can't focus."

"oh they'll be fine." katie says with a joking scoff. "if anything, he thinks you're cute." she states, pointing to jamie.

"WHAT?!" it comes out louder than I expected and I immediately cover my mouth, my face turning red. some of the guys turn around to look at me and I melt to the floor of embarrassment.

katie laughs, sitting down on the floor behind the boards with me. "I mean...you are wearing his jersey..." she says, poking her shoulder into mine in a joking manner. "listen, I don't know you very well, I'm not sure what kind of people you're into and I can't tell you who to date. but, I can see you a jamie making a cute couple. I'm sorry if that's out of line for me to say, but I'll just say this one last thing, there's nothing on the contract about not dating players!" she says, giving me a wink before laughing playfully and walking away. my face heats up more than ever before.

a few minutes later, I jolt as a hand grabs my shoulder. I look up to see jamie, who has a concerned look on his face. "hey...are you okay? coach sent me to check on you since you didn't seem well." he says, taking katies spot beside me.

"yeah, I'm okay." I say, giving him a soft smile.

"are you sure??" he says, eyes squinting with concern and confusion. "if not, I can get the nurse for you right away." he states, about ready to jump out of his spot on my command.

"yes, jamie, I'm okay. I promise." I say, resting my hand on his shoulder. "you better get back to practice now. I don't want you to run suicides because of me."

jamie laughs, "we're done with practice for today. all the guys use the home team's box to go back to the locker rooms and we're currently in the away teams." he smiles.

I nod understandably and we continue on conversation for a few more minutes until the sound of people and the zamboni begin to fill the rink to clean it up after practice. jamie looks at me before he stands, grabbing my hand and pulling me up. "hey, would you like to go get some dinner? together? not as like a date or anything...of course if you don't want it to be then I would totally understand." he rambles on, and I cut him off to say yes with a laugh.

jamie suggests to me that I wait outside the locker room while he changes and gets his things. "how about we meet in the lobby near the media room? I need to put away my equipment and we can meet up there?" I suggest. putting my hands up in the air to show him my equipment.

jamie agrees and I make my way to the media room.

its empty and all the lights are off when I open the door. I cut the light back on to put away my equipment into my cubby. I take a seat for a minute and drink some water while I recount today's events.

first, I almost get ran over by huge hockey players. secondly, I meet three of them and they're much nicer than I expected. thirdly, I'm wearing one of those guys' jerseys. fourthly, I'm now getting dinner with guy whose jersey I'm wearing.

"holy fuck..." I think out loud, rubbing my head.

a sudden knock on the door pulls me from my thoughts. "you okay?" I turn to see who's speaking and it's just jamie.

"yeah! today was just eventful." I say, standing and walking over to the doorway, cutting the light off and walking out, shutting the door behind me.

"I can take you home if you need to go? we can just reschedule for another day?" he says, putting his hand on the top half of my back, looking at me with concern. "really, it's okay if you need to go home and get some rest."

I assure him that I'll be okay and I walk with him to his car. on the way to get dinner, we just make small talk. we converse about my previous jobs in photography and how he got into hockey. the long drive that seems short soon comes to an end, and he jumps out to open my door.

the restuarant he picked for us is a small and quaint italian restaurant. my heart flutters and my cheeks flush pink when he opens the restaurant door for me, his big, light brown eyes shining from the golden light of the setting sun that hits his face.

he smiles and walks in behind me, smiling at a waiter who just gives him a nod and a gesture with his hand to continue on into the restaurant, the waiter following close behind.

jamie soon explains that he comes to this restaurant very often and they try their best to save his favorite table during his hours off, just incase he stops by for a bite to eat. he tells me the best things on the menu, and I soon decide on my personal favorite at every italian restaurant.

the small talk between jamie and I continues on for hours until the restaurant closes and jamie takes me home. we said our good nights and exchanged numbers.

our small talk over text soon turned into full blown phone calls, then facetimes, then we began to meet more in person, and those meetups soon turned into dates. I really enjoyed getting to know the guys and how to get on their nerves to most, which was now a common occurrence for trevor and I to get on their nerves.

but jamie.

there was something about jamie that drew me to him. it's like I was meant to take this job so we can be together. jamie asked me to be his girlfriend after just 4 dates.

from the first day we met, I knew there was a spark. and that spark has since grew to a raging flame. that raging flame has kept me and jamie together ever since. we are inseparable and I couldn't be more thankful that the other staff and players are supportive of our relationship.

and thanks to the old spark that soon grew, I have now found the love of my life.

[thesakuragarnet]

Birthday (LOV Found Family Vibes)

Summary:

'Twice: Hey, Dabi, why are you drinking so much on a Monday afternoon?' 

'Dabi: I'm trying to forget tomorrow is my birthday.'

Tags: slight DabiHawks, implied sexual content, swearing, found family, some blood (see GIF), hurt/comfort, fluff, angst, drinking

Word Count: 1,767 words

AO3 link

The sounds of party horns jolt Dabi out of his alcohol-induced slumber, making his hangover headache infinitely worse. 

"WHAT THE FUCK?!" He screams as he jerks upright, sitting straight up on the couch as Toga and Twice jump around him with the obnoxious noisemakers while Hawks and Spinner pop confetti cannons. 

"HAPPY BIRTHDAY, DABI!" Toga shrieks at the top of her lungs, and Toya puts his head in his hands, palming his forehead aggressively as he remembers the conversation from the night before. 

'Twice: Hey, Dabi, why are you drinking so much on a Monday afternoon?' 

'Dabi: I'm trying to forget tomorrow is my birthday.'

Granted, he was already a bottle and a half in at that point, which is why he'd let it slip. Regretfully, his Quirk made it impossible to get alcohol poisoning; his body processed it too fast to fuel his flames, meaning he sobered up almost as quickly as he became intoxicated. 

Twice and Toga continue to chant and sing, jumping up and down as Dabi blinks, taking in the scene. There's an obnoxious "Happy Birthday" banner that looks like it was dragged out of a trash can and an obscene amount of balloons in the corner (which is an extreme fire hazard).

"HAPPY! HAPPY BIRTHDAY! HAPPY! HAPPY BIRTHDAY!" Toga and Twice scream in unison, dancing with one another.

"Come on, make a wish!" Hawks' voice is suddenly in his ear, and Dabi turns his head to see a sorry excuse for a cake with a crude "24" in the center written in icing. The candles are unlit. Between the racing adrenaline from being scared awake, the overwhelming noise of the dynamic duo, and all of the bright colors, it tips Dabi over the edge. Smoke curls out of the side of his mouth as he grits his teeth, glaring up at his boyfriend. 

SPLAT!

He shoves the cake into Hawks' face, and Toga and Twice stop singing while Spinner's party horn comically trails off in a melancholy note. 

"WHAT PART OF I WAS DRINKING TO FORGET MY BIRTHDAY DID YOU IDIOTS NOT UNDERSTAND?! LEAVE ME THE FUCK ALONE!" He screams angrily before getting up and storming to his room, slamming the door behind him. 

"I knew it was a bad idea!" Shigaraki calls from the bar, too busy playing his Nintendo to bother with the festivities. Hawks sends his feathers to grab a towel and slowly rubs the cake off his face. 

"I told you go with blue icing but nooooo," Spinner mutters sarcastically, waving his hands as if that's the real reason Dabi got pissed. Hawks rolls his eyes, throwing the remains of the cake away before he walks toward Dabi's bedroom. 

...

Knock. Knock. Knock. 

Hawks waits patiently for Dabi to open the door, but the villain doesn't hear him knocking. Instead, Toya's staring up at his ceiling with his earbuds in his ears, blaring his typical angsty emo music to drown out everything around him. He hated his birthday. Growing up, he didn't really have friends. No one ever showed up to the birthday parties, no matter how many invitations he handed out to his classmates or how many emails his mom sent. Thus, Toya's birthdays were strictly family affairs. Ever since his accident, after he came home to find his death wasn't enough to change his father, family was a bad taste in his mouth. It didn't help that Shoto's birthday was a week before his; it hung over his head like an impending raincloud of doom, reminding him of what was coming...and what was missing. He used to have fun on his birthday, spending time with Natsuo and Fuyumi; hell, even with his mom and his dad...before Shoto came along. Then, everything changed. Every birthday he'd had since was incredibly shitty and always left him feeling more empty and forgotten. In fact, this was the first time anyone had wished him happy birthday in ten years. 

Flit. Flit. Flit. 

Dabi takes out his earbuds when he sees a red feather twirling up above his head, twisting and pointing toward the door. The scarred man exhales dramatically through his nose as he stalks toward the door, unlocking it and opening it.

"What do you want," He snaps, making Hawks flinch.

"To...uh...I don't know," Hawks trails off, twiddling his thumbs in defeat. Dabi sighs and jerks his head back, gesturing for Hawks to come in as he steps to the side. He closes the door behind his boyfriend, who awkwardly sits on the edge of the bed. 

"So...wanna tell me what all that was about?" Hawks offers hesitantly. Dabi's clenched jaw and stone-cold expression don't change. 

"No."

Hawks' wings droop; he should've anticipated that answer, but it wasn't the one he was hoping for. Dabi walks over to the singular window before he leans up against the wall, staring at the sunrise through the fire escape. 

"There anything I can do?" Hawks asks eagerly, deciding to try a different approach. 

"No," Dabi repeats monotonously. Hawks' eyes narrow, and he scrunches up his face in thought before his expression softens. Dabi's attention shifts from the color-changing sky to his boyfriend as he suddenly feels hands unbuckling his belt. 

"You sure?" Hawks murmurs seductively as he starts to unzip Dabi's pants. 

"GET OFF ME!" Dabi seethes, eyes flashing in irritation as he roughly shoves Hawks before zipping his fly back up and fixing his belt. The Pro lands on his wings, grimacing in pain and frowning in confusion.

"WHAT PART OF LEAVE ME ALONE DIDN'T YOU GET? YOU'RE A FUCKING PRO HERO! YOU'RE SUPPOSED TO UNDERSTAND BASIC SOCIAL CUES!" The villain shouts, anxiously pulling at his hair before stomping out and slamming the door behind him. 

"Can't even get fucking peace in my own space," Dabi mutters bitterly as he crosses his arms, feeling his chest tighten from all the stress and pent-up emotions. He was so used to spending birthdays alone. He opens the door to the hallway bathroom and locks it, slowly sinking to the floor up against the door. He nervously chews his scarred bottom lip, trying to repress memories from when he was actually happy, but to no avail. Blood seeps beneath his eye scars, and his shattered breathing is barely audible. This is the only way he can cry. 

...

While Dabi spent all day locked in the bathroom, the League held an emergency meeting.

"We can't just let him feel so shitty on his birthday!" Toga pouts, putting her head down on the table. 

"I concur! Why not!" Twice shakes his head in agreement, and Spinner groans. 

"I think we should just leave the guy alone. We've clearly fucked up. Let's not make it any worse," The lizard points out, but Toga and Twice protest. 

"We're family! Plus, do we all really want him to stay mad at us? You know how much of a vengeful bitch he can be," Toga adds.

"We don't know the first thing about the burnt bastard. Where do we even start?" Shigaraki grumbles, putting up his Switch to enter the conversation. Kurogiri, who sits at the head of the table, turns to Hawks, who is staring off into space. 

"Ahem," The wispy man grunts, jarring the Pro out of his daydreams. 

"Yeah?" Hawks mutters as if waiting for instructions. 

"Well, you're his partner, or...whatever. Do you know what he likes?" Compress offers, gesturing to Hawks. 

A smile plays at the hero's lips.

"As a matter of fact. I do."

...

BAM! BAM! BAM!

Dabi jolts awake, still propped up against the bathroom door, and immediately gets to his feet. 

"WHAT DID I SAY ABOU-" His angry tirade stops short as he yanks open the door to find no one on the other side. He raises his eyebrow, poking his head out into the hallway, but there's no sign of life. It's pitch-black outside all of the windows. 

Crinkle. 

He looks down to find a note under his boot with an arrow pointing to the left and the words "FOLLOW ME" scrawled in Twice's messy handwriting. Dabi's curiosity gets the best of him; besides, what are the odds that this is something important? Dabi walks down the hallway and finds a suspicious bottle of Captain Morgan sitting at the foot of the stairs, along with another arrow pointing up the winding staircase with the words "THIS WAY" in Toga's pink cursive. 

"You've gotta be fucking kidding me," He sighs, shaking his head as he snatches the bottle and makes the long trek up and up and up until, finally, he reaches the door that leads to the rooftop. In front of the door is a little cardboard box and on the door is another sheet of paper that says: "OPEN" in big letters and "the box and the door" in small letters, presumably Spinner's. 

"This is stupid," The villain gripes as he rips open the small box. Inside is a laminated card that reads "No one will bother you until sunrise" in Kurogiri's calligraphy. A content smirk plays at Dabi's lips as he shoves the card in his pocket before he roughly shoves the door open. 

...

Toya's breath is taken away. He'd never been to the rooftop at night, and he was vehemently regretting that he hadn't. In the dead of night, because they live in the shadier part of town, the night sky is visibly filled with glittering stars. In the center of the rooftop, a hammock rests between two steel posts. Beside the hammock sits a foldable table with a singular piece of cake on a paper plate; a candle burns brightly in the center of the dessert. Dabi is trying so hard not to smile, but he feels an achingly familiar feeling in his chest that he thought would never spark again. He walks over to the table and sees one last sheet of paper, folded up beneath the plate like a card. He opens it. 

Our shitty family isn't complete without you. Hope this makes up for fucking up so bad.

- Shigaraki, Toga, Twice, Mister Compress, Kurogiri, Spinner, & Hawks

The fact that they all willingly did this. Maybe it wasn't so bad. Truthfully, this morning had been terrible. It was obnoxious, excruciating, and all around too much. But this. This was what he appreciated because it was tailored specifically to him. Lowkey, subtle, yet meaningful. He knew Hawks had a large part in this. He's the only person that he ever told about his love of stargazing. Maybe he'd burn him later for spilling a guarded secret, but, for now, he was...happy.

[bevswashere]

Koi No Yokan

Chapter 23: Coincidence

"Please," I beg. "Please don't pull me out of this darkness, this void. Not yet. Please." But there's a phone that won't stop ringing, vibrating above the nightstand. We both stir. I groan into his neck, "Is it yours or mine?"

"Who cares?" His voice is perfectly hoarse in the morning, arms gliding against my skin as they reposition themselves on my back. "Don't answer it."

I do as he says and the call passes. Only as I'm drifting off, the phone begins vibrating again. Satoru's chin scrapes the top of my head as it turns towards the nightstand. "It's yours."

Aimlessly I throw my hand out towards the nightstand, waiting until the phone is in my grasp. "Son of a—Good morning," my tone becomes pleasant.

"You always answer on the second try." It's Yaga Sensei.

"How else would I know you're being serious?" Eyes still groggy, I look at the clock next to us. Eight o'clock. A perfectly reasonable time to be awake, but my body feels worn. My shoulders are heavy, neck stiff. I want to stay curled up in this bed for at least another hour. "Okay." I hang up the phone.

"Mission?"

"A first grade downtown," I repeat from the call. There's hardly an inflection in the sentence. Being called on like this has come to mean hardly anything at all.

"When do you leave?"

"Chihiro will be ready for me in twenty minutes."

Satoru rolls our bodies over on the mattress, his wonderful, warm body on top of mine. "Give me ten of them."

March 2007 One year later.

Chihiro and I break through the crowd of crying parents, listening to them all complain as we dip beneath the police tape.

"Wait!"

"Why are they letting those kids through?!"

"Let me see my daughter!"

Chihiro leans in, "Don't let them get to you. They've only been waiting a couple hours."

"Probably feels like a lifetime for them." I place one earbud in after the other, plugging it into the MP3 Suguru let me borrow.

Chihiro's hazel eyes scan the seemingly normal building. "Are you sure you should play your music for this one?" She shivers a bit. "I'm getting a bad feeling."

"It's an innate domain."

"Another one?" she says in surprise, "How can you be sure?"

"You can smell it," I allude to the foul cursed stench oozing from the building. With that, "You can feel it in your shoes too."

Chihiro glances at her feet. "I don't feel anything."

"You're probably better off that way." I turn on the MP3. "You can put up the veil now."

If Chihiro responds I don't hear it. The music drowns out all the noise and other sensitivities I've developed. I can't possibly fathom how Satoru has lived with it his whole life. Noticing movement from miles away, catching sounds as small as a pin dropping, breathing cursed energy like it were air.

The only thing that makes me stop is a small tug on my pant leg. One of the kids waiting with their parents seemed to have slipped past the crowd, and was now clinging to my knee. I

I immediately regret pulling out my headphones. "My sister!" she sobs, "Can you save Kura-chan?"

I don't answer her. I've learned to not make promises anymore.

One of the police officers races over, shouting as he pulls the little girl from my leg. He forces her behind the tape, into the arms of her also weeping parents. The music tunes out their anguish once more.

The inside of the building has been turned completely upside down. Tables and chairs cling to the ceiling, while all the light fixtures are at my feet. As always, the entrances disappear in an instant.

"When was the last time I had done this with someone else?" I wonder. "Nine, no, maybe ten months?" Special grades aren't allowed to have partners anymore, only assistant supervisors. A way to "cover more ground" as the higher ups put it. I suppose it makes sense. I'm strong. Why should I need company? Though, when the missions drag on like this one, it feels particularly lonely. It hurts more having to bear the crying of parents and children on your own.

Every classroom and office is vacant, leading me into the gym where the finger bearer waits. I know what they look like now, putrid, milky skin and an enormously wide smile. More than anything, the laughter stays with me. Their clawed hands gripping their faces in delight. Even with the music blaring, I can hear it in my mind.

The large beam of cursed energy merely bounces off the barrier between us in a flash of sparks. It wants to close the space, running towards me in great strides. The moment it's close enough, my fingers press together, "Domain expansion."

The gym disappears as we're swallowed in darkness. The hour hand reaches twelve, prompting the chime of a bell so loud it shakes the tower floor. Without a second thought, I trace two clockwise circles into the air, watching the curse and domain fade away as a molten finger drops to the floor.

My stomach turns the moment the gym comes back into sight. Along the bleachers are the remnants of the six hostages, children. Tossed aside on the floor is a backpack with "Kura" sewn into the front.

"You know this will draw up concerns from the higher ups, assuming they don't have any already."

It's barely past noon, but it feels as if it's been days. My torso feels particularly heavy, sunken into one of the chairs in Yaga's office, chin resting in my palm as I stare at the wall. Some of the paint is chipping, and in these discolored gaps I see the faces of all those kids. Skin turned inside out, limbs detached, the permanent fear in their eyes. I hear the crying of those parents, the scream the mother let out when I gave them the backpack. The look on her little sister's face. "About?"

"This is the fourth one you've discovered in over a year. The second one found in less than three months."

The tattered cloth holding Ryomen Sukuna's finger rests on the desk between us. I don't like the feeling I get when they touch my bare skin, the unnatural jolt, like his soul is peering into mine. "So?"

"At this point the higher-ups aren't likely to call it a coincidence. If word ever got out about it,

"Isn't finding all twenty what they want?"

"Yes, but the same student discovering all of them leads to questions. Especially once they take into account that you weren't on duty when you found the one before this."

"What kind of questions?"

"Questions about your connection to Ryomen Sukuna."

I'd laugh, but Yaga Sensei isn't the type to crack a joke. Instead his office falls silent. "My clan didn't exist during the Heian era, that's a known thing."

"As a vessel." He expresses the thought as if he'd been considering it for some time.

I finally look up from the wall. "A vessel?"

"Someone who could house Sukuna's soul."

"I know what a vessel is."

"Then you should understand what a precarious situation we may face. Nobody fully understands the potential these fingers hold. For all we know Sukuna's soul is gravitating towards you." Yaga prods the cloth bundle, making it roll a few times in my direction. "Even if they're not, the higher-ups will certainly begin wondering if you're powerful enough to be a vessel."

He says I should understand, but, "What if I am? If I could be a vessel, then what happens?"

"Under the assumption that trying to absorb Ryomen Sukuna doesn't immediately kill you, there's only two ways it can go. One, you absorb as much of Sukuna as you can before he takes over, or two, Sukuna takes over your body and your technique instantly. Regardless, you'll die, and if Sukuna isn't the one who kills you, you know who they'll appoint to do it."

Suddenly, I'm at a loss for words. "They... wouldn't do that.... Would they?"

"Having these fingers in our possession is new, we can't say what they will do. You're not replaceable, but you're certainly not above their jurisdiction—at least, in their minds. They expect that if they did ask you to be a vessel, you'll agree out of duty, same as you've agreed to keep collecting these fingers a secret."

It's true that Yaga, Chihiro, the higher-ups, and myself are the only ones who know there are four of Ryomen Sukuna's fingers inside Tokyo High. I always assumed it was for the sake of controlling chaos—nobody, especially the higher-ups, wants to believe that Sukuna might return with all his fragments suddenly appearing—but I never expected this to be the reason. How long has Yaga known?

"For now we assume the higher-ups aren't interested in tempting Sukuna's return at all. That, and you're too valuable to let die so easily," Yaga says. "But there's no sense in pretending the other outcome isn't possible."

My head is beginning to ache. "All this, you expect me to keep it from Satoru?"

"I've warned you before about mixing your relationship and Jujutsu."

"Jujutsu is who we are, how could I not?" Not a question of defiance, but one that's quiet and genuine. It means I wish Yaga would readily have easy answers as my sensei.

"Telling him would only cause more trouble. Nothing is for certain yet. There's no point in giving him a reason to act out."

At this point, my head is pounding. "Anything else?"

∞

"I'm betting on Geto-san!" Haibara ushers himself over to Suguru's side of the machine. Nanami joins him.

"I'll say Gojo-san," Mariko decides.

"What's this?" Shoko chuckles, stepping over to Satoru's side with Mariko. "Another lover's quarrel?"

"Kaede-chan?" Mariko asks.

"She can't bet against me!" Satoru whines, even though we've been through this routine before. In this exact arcade, with this exact kind of bet. The last time, Suguru and I ended up buying Satoru a dozen hamburgers, while the boys were forced to give Mariko and Shoko massages. "As my girlfriend you should be obligated to assume I'll win!"

I step over to Suguru's side of the game. "I'm obligated to prove you wrong."

Of course, when the game concludes Mariko and Shoko are cheering, and our side of the machine is quite disheartened.

Satoru approaches, chest puffed. "So, where are you treating me for dinner?"

"You can't make her pay, Gojo-san." Mariko says. "It's her birthday!"

"A bet's a bet," I sigh. "Is sushi fine with everyone?"

They all voice their agreement, heading out the arcade while Suguru's slouched figure remains in his seat. "Suguru?" I grab him by the shoulder. "Are you okay?"

"Do you think he'll ever lose again?"

I know the both of us secretly hope to see Satoru slip up, to prove himself still human. Yet with everyday that passes, the hope continues to dwindle. I miss the version of him who knew how to fail. Who would whine because he couldn't figure out his Red Technique, or throw a fit over a difficult level of a video game. "We're strong, we're not supposed to lose."

"You and I still lose."

"Winning, losing," I shrug largely, pretending not to care when, in reality, it might matter most. "Are you coming?"

I hold my hand out for him a little longer than I would like, but when he finally grabs it, it's as if a switch has been turned on inside of him. He smiles and eagerly links our arms. "Seventeen," he coos. "You're getting so old."

"You're getting even older," I argue. "I can hear your knees creaking, old man."

Ichiro fixed a private room for us in the back, even slipped us a bottle of fine sake while his grandmother labored in the kitchen.

Shoko is clearly tipsy. "Why don't you join us for a bit, Ichiro-kun?"

He grows more flustered with every second Shoko spends looking at him. It's a wonder he hasn't dropped anything yet. "Grandmother would kill me if I stopped working."

"Really?" She's merciless, softening her eyes while her fingers toy with the sake cup on the table. "You can't take a quick break to share a drink with me?"

His entire face and neck turn red. "I-I'll ask her about it."

"I'll be waiting."

Ichiro rushes out.

Suguru chuckles into his cup. "You're going to break that poor boy."

She shrugs, helping herself to a fresh cup of sake. "They're cute when they get all antsy."

"You haven't eaten much," Satoru whispers.

I look down at my plate where most things have been left untouched. Some pieces had little bites taken out of them, before I realized my stomach won't hold. The thought of those kids last week threatens to force it back up every time. "I guess I'm not as hungry as I thought."

He frowns, but says nothing more. Then Ichiro returns with a cake and candles. "Grandmother told me to bring this out for you."

Shoko is pouting. "What about your break, Ichiro-kun?"

He rubs the back of his neck nervously. "It's better I keep working. I wouldn't want Grandmother to notice the missing sake before it's replaced."

"Alright," she mewls. "I suppose that means I'll have to come back another time by myself."

Ichiro is unable to form words, sputtering as he places the cake in front of me and lights the candles. Everyone begins to sing.

My eyes are drawn to the little flames wavering in the dim light. How the orange wisp is pushed back and forth with no volition of its own. I feel like this flame right now, burning bright for only a second, before everything is dark again. Before I'm turned into a vessel or worse—"Kaede," Satoru nudges me.

"Huh?"

"The candle."

The entire table is waiting on me. I quickly blow out the candles, and they cheer. "You guys dig in." I get up from the tatami mat. "I'm going to get some air."

"Okay," Mariko says, "Don't stay out too long, though. You'll get cold."

Mariko was right about the cold, which bites terribly at my skin. It's better than inside the restaurant, though, stuffy, full of noise.

I find a random stairway about a block away, collapse there, head sunken into my hands. I can't get them out of my mind. All of them. From the very first mission I embarked on to the last. So many dead, families left broken and in fear. Even my own—Tomiji. I wonder what he's doing right now. Suguru tried to convince him to join us for tonight, but, as always, he refused. He's probably reading some of the archival books in the school library or practicing his katana. Hopefully he feels happier than me. Hopefully he feels any sort of happiness at all. I

I'm really so tired. I could fall asleep on these steps if I wanted. Maybe I should, only for a few minutes—"You've been gone for a while."

My neck cranes upward. "I lost track of time."

Satoru seats himself next to me, combing a hand deep into the roots of my hair. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing. It was getting stuffy inside."

Feeling the dull length of my hair, "You need a haircut," he says, before using his free hand to suddenly pinch my face, "And did you lose weight again?"

"You're so fussy." I ignore the hair obstructing my eyes or the gauntness of my body. After an entire childhood spent learning the importance of a tidy appearance, I never thought I'd become this unkempt, but things like my hair feel so trivial nowadays. "Why? Am I not pretty enough for you like this?"

"I'll let you in on a secret since it's your birthday." He leans in, speaking into my ear as he says, "You're the prettiest girl I know in the flesh."

My smile drops. "'In the flesh'?"

"Being a close second to Inoue Wake is nothing to be ashamed of."

"I'm leaving now—"

"Wait!" He pulls me back into my seat, into the span of his arms. "I'm just kidding!"

"I'll leave you here to stare at your precious Inoue wallpaper on your phone."

"My wallpaper is a picture of you. Now who's being fussy?" He kisses the point of my nose. "I adore you, Kaede-chan."

Curtly, "I know that."

"Especially when you pout like this."

Perhaps it's the sake forcing me into submission to the truth, but I didn't drink that much. "I just want to be the best for you."

"You're perfect for me."

"Is that the same as being the best?"

"If you're still talking about us, then yes," he says. "Are you still talking about us?"

The reality of it all—the constant death, helplessness, lethargy, the possibility of being a vessel—is one I must keep separate from "us." Yaga put it best himself, there's no sense in troubling Satoru with the things I lack. He has enough to deal with on his own. "I don't know. It's been a busy week. My thoughts are all jumbled."

"You did get more assignments than usual," he reasons, "Maybe schedule a vacation period with Yaga."

"There's too many people who need our help to take a break."

"It wouldn't be a problem for me to cover for you while."

Firmly, "I'm okay, Satoru."

"Okay," he surrenders, and kisses me. "You know I would do anything for you, right?"

"I know."

"No. Kaede," his glasses are on, but I can feel the way his eyes are piercing into mine, "Anything you asked of me, I would do it. Just ask me."

It's hard to place his sudden declaration, the intensity with which he speaks. "Is there something you want me to ask you?"

"I'm only saying even the most outrageous ideas or plans you can think up," his tone lightens, "I wouldn't hesitate to follow you in them."

"Even if it were wrong?"

"Anything," he repeats.

"Let's run away together, three of us: you, me, Suguru. We can go wherever we want, leave Tokyo, or even leave Japan. We'll start over and never have to think about Jujutsu or curses or anything else. We can be happy like that... I'm not happy like this."

I never said it. Whether he would follow me or not, I'd never ask him to give up his calling, his strength which so clearly defines him. To think how many more people would die if we selfishly walked away, how many more children would end up like the ones I'd seen last week.

"If anything comes up, I'll ask."

Before I can decide whether he's dejected by my response or not, Mariko is waving us over, "Hey, lovebirds! We thought you went home."

Immediately we rejoin them, continuing on like nothing is wrong. 

[shu-sakamaki]

(TW : Bullying)

Random and dark headcanons about Shuu Sakamaki

If you are not comfortable with those themes please just scroll, I don't want to make anyone uneasy, it's for fiction and fantasies only, Shuu is in NO WAY meant to be portrayed in real life, he is not a good person and none of his actions are acceptable.

In which you're a bride living in the Sakamaki manor :

- His voice is really low, much lower and raspier than his voice in the anime, it just makes more sense to me because he's always sleepy and horny, sadly he's the one who speaks the less (like, sir, just keep your mouth open and never shut up 👄🔪)

- He's just so disgusted everytime Reiji come near him that he's always scrunching his nose for a split second and then furrows his brows as if he smelled something bad but it's just Reiji (🤣🤣) and four eyes get even more mad.

- If your staring at him for too long he will stare back at you and look at you up and down. Now, there's two type of look, there is the "gtfo of my face, you're burning my eyes" (which is kinda hot in its own way 👉👈) and the "I'm horny as hell, keep staring at me I will mount you, female." And I don't know how, but he notice everything, you can try and  be unnoticeable by looking at him and then looking away but when your looking back at him again, he's staring right at your soul like 👁-👁 (sir pls stop you're scaring me)

- He have bedroom eyes like, 90 % of the times, Shuu always seems to be in his own reality with his closed eyes and earphones, he somehow look zooted (on sleep and sex uhu, anyways letmeshutup)

- He's the king of side-eye, if you bother his slumber he will give you the saltiest, hottest, coldest side-eye, it'll make you tear up. My theory is that he can make people crumble with just a look. (and that's on 💫trauma💫)

- Now that we're on the subject of tears, Shuu loves them (you monster) and try a lot of things mainly out of boredom and just to randomly see you cry because why not. And him being a teaser + dacryphilia is the worst thing you can ask for. Because when the oldest lay his interest on someone, I think that the rest of the brothers kinda back off to  not make him angry (they're not suicidal gud gud) so you're just getting bullied by him and everyone is just watching.

- For example when you walk past him, he'll pinch your thighs and it always hurts so bad and leaves red/purple spots or just grab your wrist and hold it really hard till you cry and beg him to not break it. And sometimes he'll just plainly ignore you which can be worst because it's always leaving you with the impression that something's gonna fall upon you when you least expect it. (Not mister playing as the Fates) And if you try to avoid him, he's going to catch up on it pretty fast and suddenly you're seeing him everywhere and he's not going to limit his torture to the manor, even in school he will find ways to terrorize you. He will say the lewdest, dirtiest things to you like its nothing or will just sneak up on you and touch your butt in the hall. (You need to keep an eye on him like the bogeyman). It's just a game for him, he's bored and you're the perfect prey to toy with.

- Yeah also he doesn't care about consent... just like the rest of his demonic gremlins of brothers, resisting him just makes it more fun for him. But if you are actually getting aggressive like pulling his hair, slapping him or scratching his skin he'll put out his knife (he gon look at you like dis 🔵👄🔵🔪) and will threatens to kill you really slowly. A thing about his knife, is that admin once said that he's carrying it everywhere, so he can just pull it out of idk where and rub it on your skin, threatening silently to slit your throat at any moment. There is always that one kid who like to draw on people's arms with a marker in school, Shuu does the same with his knife, you have little cuts here and there because of him.

- He's manipulative and merciless, you can pour your heart out to him and tell him how something just broke you and he's gonna look at you like "and what does it got to do with me?" or just fall asleep on you. He picks a lot on your insecurities just because he knows where it hurts (he doesn't really think it, he don't care lol) and will talk to you with such a mocking/condescending tone, as if your stupid and its not like you can complain about it.

- Shuu appears at the most random times and just ask you to do things that HE'S supposed to do. And you can either do your thing and he won't care or be bothered that you disobeyed and will punish you. Admin mentioned it often, how one of the scariest thing with Shuu is the unlimited feeling of uncertainty, you really never know. One day he's cool with you and the other he's not.

- Remember when Shuu talked about seduction ? He said that its the difference between him and Laito. Laito thrives off people's fear and disgust of him and he will force himself upon them, and with Laito, you're mainly scared of him. But with Shuu, there is something quite exciting about him being around you and just giving you his attention. (Idk how to explain it, it's the Shuu Effect 🦋) Sometimes you can even feel like you have a choice, when you really don't. He's guilt-tripping you a lot of the time and you don't realize it sometimes and think that it's your decision, but honey...

- When he starts to get use to you, use to you taking care of him and use to your presence that's when the trickiest part comes up. He can either, get bored of you so he'll probably leave you alone giving green signals to his brothers to do whatever they want (or he kills you) or he's falling in love.

- You know that he's falling in love with you when he's more around you to the point when he's the only face that you're seeing and his brothers are just avoiding you like the plague, everyone does, it's like, even humans have a gut feeling that being around you won't bring them good because of the scary demon behind you. (Well if you listen to him it's more of a "You're the one obsessed with me and not the opposite" but yk), he's going to insult you every ten seconds because you looked at an alive being "I'm not looking at you for ten seconds and you're already whoring yourself out ? Pathetic." (But really, it's the poSseSsiViTy), I can also see him as being more touchy in a way but it varies, it don't necessarily mean that Shuu would go tender on you.

- He built a wall around him (like attack on titan type of wall duh, Wall Maria I see you 🙄) to block and repulse any being who wants to be close to him, so when he realizes that he's falling in love with you (and hard because Shuu don't have the concept of limit) he will probably get scared and would try to back off, scare you, being even more brutal because he need to know, need to be sure, how willing you are to be with him. He can't handle a deception and also I feel like he is pretty aware of his mental state and he is deeply scared of losing you and losing himself completely in the same boat.

- When he starts to really care for you, I think that he will start to have nightmares again, especially about Edgar and other stuff involving you because how scared he is. Which bring me to an article that admin about Shuu mastering aftercare, it's 100% logic that he's with you and whispering sweet nothing till he sure that you are safe and asleep with him.

- When his shell starts to crack, it's when he's going to be as his probably most vulnerable state when you can just see how much the paranoia, the possessivity and all the trauma cloud his mind. He will still try to test you for some time and just kinda...still observing like a predator (but with more of a lovesick turn) till he's certain that you will not betray him. And don't take it personally, that's just how he is, everything has been taken away from him, all the happiness, all the color were sucked out of his life, and when there is a real opportunity of getting this happiness back he doesn't play. Literally, Shuu can not handle losing someone important again or he will go full-on Kanato insane. That's why he drown himself in sex and sleep, to not think, that's why he always have sound in his earbuds, to not hear the silence. Its not Shuu's fault that Edgar is dead, it's not his fault if the German shepherd got killed, it's not his fault if his mother didn't took care of his brother, but he'll still take the blame. (Well maybe not for Reiji but you get it.)

Thanks to everyone who manages to read it through and have a good day and remember that you're loved and worthy ❤😌

((I honestly LOVE how you emphasize the canon aspect that Shu has NO LIMITS. Or he LOVES you to the point of obsession, or no deal. That IS Shu... And I'm scared about the person I'm becoming but the ones about how scary he actually is while statically staring at you?... Was hot... O///O ???))

[blindingdutchy]

lamentation | TWO

{peter parker x fem!reader AU}

based on All the Bright Places by Jennifer Niven

SERIES MASTERLIST

word count: 3,495

warnings: depression, anxiety, mental illness! angst, fluff if you squint really hard

18+!!! minors stay away

Peter Parker was relentless, insufferable, and extremely annoying. It all started the morning after what you'd decided to call The Encounter, and it had been unending ever since. Nearly a week had passed since that fateful night, and you'd yet to see a day at school where Peter didn't try his hardest to get under your skin.

On Monday he sat next to you in Calculus, and no matter how blatantly you ignored him for the entire class, he continued to whisper facts about himself and stupid little jokes to you. You wished you could say you hadn't listened, but ever since that morning you'd been unable to forget that his favorite color was red, his Aunt packed him a lunch every day that he threw away because she couldn't cook, and his middle name was Benjamin. Why he thought you needed or even wanted to know such things you weren't sure, but even more befuddling was the fact that you couldn't un-learn them.

When Tuesday rolled around he stepped it up a notch, much to your dismay. He sat with you during Calculus and insisted on jogging with you during gym class, feigning that he was out of breath despite your slow pace and the fact that you were certain he could run for miles without getting winded. He told you more jokes then, too. One of which you begrudgingly found yourself exhaling a little harder over whenever it popped into your head; what did one stranger say to the other? Nothing. They didn't know each other.

Wednesday was the worst, because Peter made a scene. You came into calculus late and the teacher scolded you in front of the class, at which point you got flustered and tripped over your untied shoe laces. Your books spilled to the floor and you tumbled to your knees in front of everyone, and the whole class laughed. But Peter? Peter just had to be the hero, and your blood boiled at his actions.

He'd dramatically swept all his books off of his desk, feigning surprise at the loud clatter as if he hadn't done it intentionally. When the teacher scolded him, too, he just apologized and made a show of picking up each of his things one by one. "Why did you do that?" you'd hissed as you sat down, scowling at the brown-eyed boy who just blinked at you innocently.

"Do what?"

He'd ran with you in gym class again, and he'd even followed you to your locker afterwards. In all the years you'd known of Peter, you had never known him to be much of a talker. In fact, he seemed like a rather shy boy who didn't like to branch out much. With you, though, that was far from the case. Silence was a pipe dream with him around.

On Thursday he sat next to you in Calculus, ran with you in gym, walked you to your locker, and went so far as to sit with you at lunch. You'd put your earbuds in and blasted music as loud as you could without hurting yourself too much, but every time you looked up you could see he was still talking. Part of you wondered why he was being so relentless, but you didn't want to ask. If you asked he would think you cared, and you didn't. You didn't care at all, and the sooner he figured that out, the sooner he would leave you alone.

Or, at least you hoped so. As you walked into school on Friday morning, you groaned at the sight of Peter waiting patiently beside your locker. "What do you want, Parker?" you gritted out, glaring at him as you twisted the dial to enter your combination.

He grinned in spite of your glare, "I'm walking you to Calculus today, obviously. How was your night, (Y/N)? Do anything fun?"

"What part of I don't need friends did you not understand?" you demanded, giving him a stale look as you swung the metal door open with a clang. Peter blinked at you, clearly not used to you actually speaking back to him, and further uncomfortable with your hostility. What did he expect? Did he expect for you to suddenly be happy? To not be completely fucked up anymore just because he started talking to you?

He replaced his lazy smile and shrugged, retorting, "You know my secret and I know yours. That makes us friends."

You wanted to scream at him. You wanted to shout, yell, stomp your feet, and throw a tantrum fit for a child. Friends were not something you wanted or needed, and you certainly didn't want to be friends with Peter Parker. You didn't want to be friends with someone just because they were worried you'd spill their dirty little secret, or because they pitied the girl who wanted to die.

The black hole in your chest was worse than ever that day, and it sucked away all the fight you had in you. So, with a roll of your eyes, you stuffed your earbuds in your ears and tuned him out once more. Just like he had at lunch, Peter continued to ramble even though he knew you weren't listening, and you pretended you didn't see his lips moving at the speed of light.

For once, at the very least, he at least shut up in class. You were thankful for the break from his incessant chatter, the endless monologue you couldn't escape from when you were stuck in a desk while Mr. Tinley droned on and on. Calculus was far from interesting, but you found yourself beyond relieved to finally be able to pay any sort of attention to the lesson.

Friday was steadily continuing along the same path every other day had since The Encounter. Peter thankfully parted ways with you after Calculus, but quickly rejoined you two classes later in Gym. From Gym he was glued to your side through lunch until you escaped to your Spanish class, which you thankfully didn't share with him, but the solitude was short lived. Your last class of the day was one you also shared with Peter, and prior to that day he had remained seated with his friends.

That day, though, he plopped down in the seat beside you with a cheerful smile. "Ready for our new project?" he asked, skipping the greeting he knew you wouldn't return.

"Huh?" you asked, blinking at him in bewilderment. New project? Our? What was he talking about?

Peter beamed back at you, clearly pleased that you hadn't snapped at him for once. "Our new project! Didn't you see the list on the door? We're partners." he explained, and you stiffened.

It was too big of a coincidence to truly be happenstance. All week Peter had been pestering you, perpetually following you around and talking your ear off, and now he just happened to be assigned as your partner for the final Speech project? He did something. That was the only logical conclusion.

Your eyes narrowed as you stared at him with as much intensity as you could muster. "Peter, what did you do?" you growled.

Peter's eyes widened at your tone, and he shifted in his seat nervously with a sheepish smile. "What do you mean?" he questioned coyly, and you scowled at him fiercely. "I didn't do anything, (Y/N)."

"Bullshit." you snapped, "I find it hard to believe that we just happened to be assigned partners after how obsessively you've been harassing me all week."

He gaped at you, "Harassed? What?" he stammered, "(Y/N), let's calm down--I haven't... I haven't been harassing you. I just want you to know I really do want to be your friend."

You scoffed at his excuse, "Shut up, Peter. Just leave me alone! I don't want to be your friend, okay? My lips are sealed. I won't tell anyone your secret, just leave me alone!"

With one finally glare, you lurched out of your seat and stomped to one far away from the still aghast boy. As you settled into your new seat, ignoring the strange looks from your classmates who witnessed your outburst, you wrinkled your nose and picked at your nails angrily. As much as you were angry with Peter, you were also angry with yourself.

You were angry that he'd stopped you, and you'd let him. You were angry at the world for letting your sister die. You were angry at your sister for saving you when she should have saved herself. Most of all, though, you were angry with yourself for how you were acting. Even though she wasn't there, you could almost hear your sister scolding you for how you'd treated Peter.

She always was the levelheaded, rational sister. The good sister. The better sister. She would have been ashamed of how you'd been ignoring Peter, ranting to you, "He's just trying to be there for you, idiot. Stop being such a jerk and let him help you. You need to stop being so stubborn..."

You listened eagerly to Ms. Lovell's lesson and instruction for the new project. It wasn't because you were genuinely interested, because you weren't, but it was something to distract you. It was something to drown out the voice of your sister that was echoing through your skull, rattling you to your core as you tried to keep your emotions at bay.

This was the hardest part of losing your sister. She'd been so close to you, so important to you, it was impossible to not think of her in every moment of every day. It was impossible not to think of what she'd have done, instead of what you had done. It was impossible not to think of what she'd have thought of your actions, what she'd have said to you, of what she'd have wanted you to do.

She had been your voice of reason, your confidant, your role model. She'd always been so much better than you, someone you aspired to be like, and now that she was gone the comparisons were so much heavier on your head. Why couldn't it have been you instead of her? She would never have had such a hard time like you were.

For instance, she wouldn't have been so bitter. She wouldn't have been so filled with rage, hatred, or despair. She wouldn't have blamed anyone, not even herself, and she wouldn't have hated the people who had killed you. She always did love a good superhero, and even if you'd have died at the hands of the Avengers like she had, she would have found a reason to still have faith in them. She would have forgiven them.

This project was going to be a tough one, and not just because you were going to have to work with Peter Parker. "This is going to be a persuasive speech, guys, so you're able to pick your stance freely so long as it pertains to the Avengers. For example, you could persuade us that they're bad, if that's how you feel." Ms. Lovell explained, "Just be prepared to face debate from the class. Each group has to face five full minutes of argument from the class and be able to firmly debate their stance."

A project in which you'd have to argue your stance pertaining to the superheroes that had killed your sister, and you were working with Peter-Spiderman-Parker. Great, you thought to yourself, this was going to be a nightmare. There was no way the two of you would agree on what stance to persuade; you hated superheroes, and he was one, for God's sake.

You glanced over at Peter, only to catch him already staring at you. The pair of you quickly looked away from each other, but you noticed the way his cheeks flared red in embarrassment. How long had he been watching you? Was he dreading the project now as much as you were?

He probably didn't know how you felt about the Avengers. Not many people really cared enough to read about what had happened to your sister, and you weren't exactly in the right state of mind to be out protesting the many shortcomings of the superheroes. You wondered, though, how he would react when he found out.

Lying was an option, but there was no way you'd be able to debate in favor of the Avengers without breaking. Could you debate against them without losing it either, though? You weren't entirely sure. It was a sore subject and you were certainly not looking forward to having to dedicate your time to speaking about them.

Peter lingered by his seat after class was dismissed, staring at you awkwardly as he told his friends he would catch up with them later. You could see the strange, weary looks they shot you, but you chose to ignore them. Everyone looked at you a little funny ever since the incident, and you'd long ago grown accustomed to it. This time, though, you couldn't help but think they were looking at you strangely for a reason other than your sister.

You had two options. You could suck it up and talk to Peter right then, or you could continue to ignore him until you were forced to do the project. Catching his warm brown eyes as he timidly watched you, you sighed. It was now or never; maybe if you were nicer he'd back off a little with the obsessive tendencies.

"So," you drawled, approaching him shyly, "how are we gonna do this?"

This was what she would have wanted you to do; that's what you chanted in your head as you forced yourself to at least seem somewhat approachable. "Uh, we could--we could meet up tomorrow? You could come to my apartment." he stuttered, scratching his neck awkwardly and fiddling with his backpack.

He radiated nervous energy, and the black hole inside of you consumed it greedily. You twiddled your thumbs just as nervously as you replied, "Do you, um, do you mind coming to my house instead? My parents are--they're a little weird about me going out because of... yeah."

God, his stutter was rubbing off on you, and you cringed at the way you stumbled over your words like a fool. It had been such a long time since you'd invited anyone to your house, let alone talked to anyone besides your parents and your therapist, and it was stressing you out. The exhaustion of the day was wearing you down rapidly, and having to socialize was making it worse.

"Yeah, yeah, yeah, of course!" he spluttered, "Uh, could I get your number? So I can, like, text you when I'm coming?"

You hoped he didn't notice how much your fingers were shaking as you took his phone, struggling to type in your number as you mistyped multiple times. Once you'd saved your contact into his phone, you sent yourself a text so that you'd have his number too. You didn't exactly answer unknown numbers anymore, though if you were honest, you often didn't answer people you knew either. That was what drove your friends away.

Peter shot you a shy smile as you handed his phone back, and he asked, "Do you want to get started tonight, maybe? I could call you."

Biting your cheek, you paled. Tonight? You were exhausted, and the thought of having to talk for any longer made you nauseous. "No offense, Peter, but I... I really just need a break. This week has been a lot." you mumbled, avoiding his eyes as you stared at your feet.

"Oh, yeah, totally." he acquiesced, "I'll, uh, I'll see you tomorrow."

You didn't reply, only giving him a tight lipped smile that probably looked more like a grimace as you quickly walked away. Once you were out of his sight, your entire body drooped and the numbness steadily washed over you. It had been the longest day, and you were once again grateful for the escape from the overwhelming emotions.

Ever since she died, it was as if all your emotions were on overdrive. There were the many constant ones, like the guilt, shame, and anguish over her death. Along with those were more fleeting ones, like anger, disgust, and fear. Peter, though, he brought about a whole slew of new and equally as intense feelings that drained you.

He made you feel things like anxiety, apprehension, and hope. There was anxiety both due to his wild behavior in regards to you, but also because you feared he might tell people what he'd seen. The apprehension was due to your suspicion he was only so interested because you knew his secret, and was just as fearful that you would tell. But the hope, the stupid anticipation, was the worst.

It was the worst because a stupid part of you hoped he was genuine. You wanted him to really want to be your friend with no ulterior motives because, no matter how much you denied it, you really did need a friend. You wanted a friend. You wanted to let someone in.

You weren't buying it, though, because you were certain you couldn't handle the heartbreak of being wrong about his intentions and discovering he really did only care about his secret. You weren't going to let him hurt you, and if you had to shut yourself off from the world and hurt yourself to prevent it, then so be it. It was easier that way.

Peter Parker: hey i know you said you didn't want to start tonight but that doesn't mean we can't get to know each other

Peter Parker: so if you want, lets play 20 questions! i'll start. what's your favorite movie?

The typing cursor blinked at you tauntingly as you laid on your bed, huddled under the blankets with your thumbs hovering over the keys. That stupid part of you that wanted to make your sister proud begged you to go along with it, to let him be a friend, but you were terrified. You were terrified of the way you actually opened the text and went to reply without hesitation, something you hadn't done since before the incident. You were terrified of the way you wanted to reply, but the only thing that gave you pause was the fact that you didn't have an answer.

Movies weren't something you'd given much thought to in awhile. You knew all of your sister's favorite movies by heart, but your favorite movie? It was as if your brain opened an empty drawer. You didn't know what your favorite movie was.

You: i don't know

Peter Parker: what do you mean you don't know

Peter Parker: do you not like movies?!

You: i just don't know okay

You: i can't remember the last time i watched a movie.

That was a lie. You very well could remember the last time you'd watched a movie, and that was because it was with her. The weekend before she'd died, your sister had dragged you to the theater to watch some cheesy romance film she'd been gushing about for weeks. It was awful, but it was so utterly her that you'd weirdly enjoyed it. You enjoyed it because it made her happy.

Peter Parker: that's crazy wow

Peter Parker: no offense sorry

Peter Parker: it's your turn to ask

You: what's your favorite movie

Peter Parker: star wars but you can't ask the same question!! try again

You: fine

You: what's your favorite food?

Was talking to boys always this hard? You couldn't remember the last time you'd had to get to know someone, but you didn't think it had ever been so nerve wracking. Was something wrong with you? Was everything destined to be this hard now that she was gone?

Peter Parker: anything from Delmar's

Peter Parker: best sandwiches in Queens

Peter Parker: since you got a double and you technically didn't answer my first question, i'm asking you the same but also what's your happiest memory

Everything was always going to be hard. Reading his response, your lungs deflated in your chest and the numbness gave way to the all too familiar sensation of despair. She'd always loved Delmar's, insisting on getting the same sandwich from there every single Friday after school, and it had been your thing.

Would there ever be anything that didn't remind you of her? Remind you of the hole punched in your life where she used to be? It was hard enough dealing with the empty space in your room where her bed used to be, the empty chair at the dinner table where she'd used to sit, all the empty spaces she'd used to fill up. But the little things--the little memories of things she'd used to love--those hurt so much more.

You: i have to go

You: i forgot i'm busy tomorrow so we can't start the project

You: i'm sorry

SERIES TAG-LIST {ask to be added}:

@msmimimerton

[leelee10898]

Chikara: Kanashimi (1/?)

Ellie wheeler's senior year turned out to be one she would never forget. Now in college, leaving behind the life she grew to love, she did anything but thrive.

If you'd like to be added to the taglist, lemme know!!

Raiting: Mature. Series will contain, violence, death, sexual situations, and bad decisions.

Ellie quietly wandered the halls of Langston, head down, never noticed by anyone and she never spoke to anyone either.  It was just her and her thoughts, her roommate flaked out the first two weeks of fall semester. Not like she ever really talked to the girl. Her day consists of getting up, going to school, homework, dinner, shower, bed. Rinse, lather, repeat, Every day for 6 months.

She tried to keep her mind busy,  she never fully tuned it out. Behind all the math problems and research papers, he was always there like a cancerous tumor sucking the life out of her. she didn't hate it, it was quite the opposite really, she loved it, she needed it to get by the long days and lonely nights.

The night they finally took the brotherhood down, was one of the proudest moments she felt. They watched as Jason was hauled off in handcuffs, a tiny sliver of justice for Kaneko. She said goodbye to Toby, Ximena, even Mona, she knew they would move on from the crew. When Logan said goodbye it stung, she cared a great deal for him. He was the first guy she had ever kissed, or even had feelings for but, he wasn't Colt. From the moment they met, he drove her crazy, he annoyed her to no end and he was a complete jerk but she was drawn to him like a moth to a flame.

She had just finished submitting her final paper to her English teacher when she ran to her dorm room, grabbed her bags and headed to the airport. When she left for the summer program at Langston she told her dad she would see him at thanksgiving. She reluctantly left her car behind, a deal her father and her came to for breaks such as Thanksgiving, Christmas and Spring break, In the summer she would drive home. It was finally Thanksgiving and she couldn't wait.  she pressed the imaginary gas pedal on the airplane floor, secretly hoping it would get her there faster.

The sound of a screaming child filled the cabin, Ellie popped her earbuds in, attempting to drown out the noise. Just a little bit longer,  almost there she kept telling herself. Once they landed, she grabbed her luggage and looked for her dad. She seen him standing in the pick up area holding one of those makeshift signs that read Wheeler. "Dad, you're such a dork." She flung her arms around him. "Yeah, the coolest dork you'll ever meet." He retorted.

They got in the car and made the drive to the house, sure she couldn't wait to be home.  She was looking forward to seeing Riya and Darius, having Thanksgiving dinner at her grandparents, but she had more pressing matters to attend to. They pulled into the driveway and Ellie ran into the house,  flinging her luggage on the bed. She had to play it carefully, not to tip her dad off as to her plans. She came down stairs and like clockwork her dad asked if she was hungry. "Sure thing dad." She smirked, knowing after he ate he would want to take a nap.

"So. Any plans with Riya? She's home from Hartfeld this week." Dad asked as he put the dishes in the sink.  "Yeah we actually made some plans to catch up. Speaking of, can I use your car to see if shes home?" Her dad reached in his pocket handing her the keys "Just be careful, I'm going to take a nap."

Ellie ran up to her room, she flung open her suitcase and changed out of her leggings and baggy t shirt into a pair of jeans and a crop top.

She ran to the car, turning the key as the engine roared to life. It wasn't her car, but it would do.

She made the drive into the city, stopping at where the sideshow was, but nothing was there. She pulled down another street and parked in front of the familiar building. Not much had been done with the burned out shell of its former self, it looked as if time stood still. It was boarded up in attempts to keep people out, she walked around the building until she found a loose board and slipped in. The inside was hardly touched, some sorting had been done, she knew Colt had come back the day he gave her the cactus. There wasn't much left of the place, some debris strewn about, some shells of cars that once sat in the bay. It was clear nobody had been here, and the realization that nobody was coming back began to set it.

She thought she needed to come here, that maybe she would find something other then the burnt remains of the place that changed her, or someone.  The tears began to sting her eyes, so many memories in such a short time. Ever since they parted ways, she felt like a part of her was missing. There was a gaping hole in her heart that ached, she grasped her chest as ler legs failed her. For 6 months she kept her phone glued to her, in hopes someone would just reach out, for 6 months she prayed that someone would come for her, that she wasn't alone, and she meant something to them.

She sat alone on the floor of Kaneko's garage in a heap of ash and soot, crying her eyes out.  They were gone, you're just a tourist ringing in her head.  She was in fact alone, they weren't  coming back for her and it was time to try and move on.

She made her way back home, covered head to toe in the black substance that stained the floors of the garage, much like the stains on her heart. After a long cry in the hot shower, Ellie pulled open her closet door and started to hang her clothes inside when she spotted something tucked away behind her prom dress. She couldn't imagine what it might be, it was larger than any of her clothes. Gripping the petal pink fabric she pulled the dress forward,  giving easier access to the mystery item. Her fingers began to tremble, her nerves on edge as she ripped the clothing hanging in front of it off the hangers and tossed them to the floor reaching her goal item.

Ellie staggered backwards, item in hand.  the backs of her knees hitting the mattress causing her to sit. She stared blankly at the jacket in front of her, Colts leather jacket. How did it get there? She didn't think it was there when she packed for Langston, but could she have missed it?

She held the soft leather to her face, the scent of his cologne putting her immediately at ease. This was all she had left of him, that and the few photos and texts she had saved in her phone. Ellie slipped the jacket on, it was over sized but she didn't care. She placed her hands in the pockets pulling it flush to her body as if it were his arms wrapped around her.  Her fingers brushed against something and she pulled it from the pocket.

She stared down at the folded piece of paper, she recognized the stationary, it was one from her desk. Unfolding it slowly, tears began to well on her eyes in anticipation. His penmanship was far better then she anticipated but she knew better then to expect to unexpected when it came to Colt Kaneko.

Ellie,

If you are reading this that means you have found my jacket in your closet. I am risking everything coming here and sneaking in.   I just needed you to have it, to have something of me with you in this cold, unforgiving world.

Im not good with words, and feelings so im going to try my best. I love you Ellie Wheeler, I probably have since the moment I laid eyes on you at the side show, only I couldn't admit it to myself then.

I know you think that I don't care but leaving you, was the hardest thing I ever had to do. I meant what I said, we will see each other again.   

I watched you give your speech at graduation,  It took everything I had in me not to run out there and kiss you. I am so proud of you valedictorian. And just a little while ago when you drove away for College, I just had to see you if only at a distance. Keeping you safe will always be my priority,  and with the fbi breathing down my back, letting you go was the only way.

Live your life to the fullest Elle, don't cry for me im not worth your tears. Have fun in college, make friends, fall in love. You are amazing and you deserve to be happy. I hope that when our paths do cross again, you accomplished everything you set out to. I think your dad may be home so I have to run. Remember I will always Love you Ellie, even if I can't be with you.

Love, Colt.

She closed the letter, tears streaming down her face as she laid down on her bed. He was at her graduation, and when she left for Langston. She was hurting but she knew she had to move on, and now with his jacket she had a piece of him with her.

Two weeks went by in the blink of an eye, before she knew it she was back at Langston.  She drug her luggage down the long hall to her dorm room, she reached for her key, opening her door she walked into a different room then when she left. The opposite side of the room, once empty was decorated in pink, pink as far as the eye could see. Ellie flung her bags onto the bed, collapsing next to them when the sound of the door opening startled her. She sat up, eyes wide staring at the person in front of her. "Hey roomie!"

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@littlemissimaginativerhi

[activelyautistic]

I'm the anon asking about the self dx ppl. So i have had the feeling/suspicion that im autistic (not good at reading emotions of other people ans not understanding my owns [alexythimia]/find hard to keep conversations/ feels like a "robot"/ not good with eye contact/ not good with loud environments (I don't feel pain as i have seen many describe it, i just feel too uncomfortable)/get upset if my rituals get changed but i don't have something as strict as a routine though/have touch aversion -1/1

touch aversion sometimes/ and i have some sensory issues with clothes (feel too itchy)/ don't understand jokes or sarcasm (i can notice it just a few times)/i take things literally most of the time and don't understand figurative language.) Im oversharing a bit now, but i guess what im trying to say is, for weeks i was so sure about being autie, i took several tests that confirm it, and some of he things i described i have feel it for years now, but right now im question myself and - 2/2

wondering if im faking it or if im indeed autistic, cause some of the things i read i don't relate to them, nor i now if i have experienced such thing as a meltdown or burnout and i mistook it as something else. And i was wondering if you had any advice you could give me? And if its valid i say im autisty even if there's still that shadow of doubt and insecurity and im still far off getting an official diagnosis?- 3/3

(I put all three parts in the ask to make it easier to answer)

---

Amin S here! Happy to help.

Personally, I’m self diagnosed as well. I’ve not had the chance to look into a formal diagnosis for myself, so hopefully I can be of help.

For starters, you are perfectly fine and valid to share as much as you want. It helps us to understand how to help you and answer any questions that come up.

Secondly, I don’t think you’re faking it. Everyone has different experiences, and Autism is a spectrum. No two people are the same, and that goes for how things show up in a person. Personally, I am touch repulsed, and I don’t understand sarcasm at all unless it’s explained to me. I find making eye contact nearly impossible.

As for any advice I can give, I say that you treat this as you wish. If you need certain routines to stay consistent, go ahead and advocate for that. Do you want to get tested? Talk to a school counselor or your doctor about steps you can take towards getting a diagnosis. If you find little life hacks or strategies that other autistic people use, use them if you think they help. Personally, I always have a playlist of soothing music and a pair of earbuds with me if I need to drown out unpleasant noise, and I have a fidget cube to keep my hands busy.

In the end, it’s your life, and your experiences. No one has a booklet for life. Every life is different from the next. I encourage you to reach out and find the answers you need.

[frighthouseofalighthouse]

I'M GONNA DO IT TO EM' ALL ASKS THAT YOU REBLOG TONIGHT TILL 10 AM TOMORROW.... DO THEM!!!!

Hey, you had to do it to ‘em! Here they are starting with the most recent.

“Weird asks that say a lot”

1. coffee mugs, teacups, wine glasses, water bottles, or soda cans?

Coffee mugs because you can use them for everything. Teacups are too small for a proper cuppa.

2. chocolate bars or lollipops?

Chocolate bars always.

3. bubblegum or cotton candy?

Bubblegum, which I miss so much. I haven’t had it in over 2 years bc of my braces

4. how did your elementary school teachers describe you?

I didn’t go to public school but all the adults who dealt with me said I was sociable and tried to get everyone to do the group projects but no one listened so I ended up sitting alone reading and quietly doing the project.

5. do you prefer to drink soda from soda cans, soda bottles, plastic cups or glass cups?

Glass BOTTLES make it taste superior.

6. pastel, boho, tomboy, preppy, goth, grunge, formal or sportswear?

Pastel boho preppy goth best describes my style.

7. earbuds or headphones?

Earbuds, but only rubber tipped ones. The plastic ones never fit in my ears. Also headphones never cover my whole ear right. :/

8. movies or tv shows?

TV shows keep my attention span better.

9. favorite smell in the summer?

Brewing thunderstorms.

10. game you were best at in p.e.?

None. But trampoline if I had to pick.

11. what you have for breakfast on an average day?

Scrambled eggs, peanut butter toast, and some kind of fruit.

12. name of your favorite playlist?

My main one is Things You Love. My one for writing is Queen And Country, and my other two favorites are Summer Songs and A Queen Knows How To Fight A War.

13. lanyard or key ring?

Key ring, lanyards get in the way.

14. favorite non-chocolate candy?

Swedish Fish or Sour Patch Kids.

15. favorite book you read as a school assignment?

OH MAN. To Kill A Mockingbird, The Great Gatsby, Fahrenheit 451, The Grapes Of Wrath, and The Handmaid’s Tale were definitely my top 5 in English class.

16. most comfortable position to sit in?

Curled up sideways in an armchair with my legs slung over the arm. Sitting normally sucks.

17. most frequently worn pair of shoes?

Either pair of my black boots, or my pink floral Skechers that I wear to work.

18. ideal weather?

60 degrees, cloudy, windy, with a chance of rain.

19. sleeping position?

On my right side, arms around a fluffy pillow, one leg out straight and the other drawn up with my knee to my chest.

20. preferred place to write (i.e., in a note book, on your laptop, sketchpad, post-it notes, etc.)?

Laptop. I’m trying to exercise my hand and wrist so I don’t tire as quick of notebook writing, though.

21. obsession from childhood?

History, Nancy Drew books, Harry Potter, and ghost stories.

22. role model?

The person I am but don’t think I am.

23. strange habits?

Pulling my shirt collar up over my nose and mouth/putting it in my mouth and chewing on it.

24. favorite crystal?

Amethyst, my birthstone! Close second is blue goldstone. (Have you ever seen it? It looks like the universe. I have a worrystone made of blue goldstone and it’s one of my prized possessions.)

25. first song you remember hearing?

Something from church probably. Outside of church probably one of these: If I Had A Hammer // Peter, Paul and Mary, Puff The Magic Dragon // Peter, Paul and Mary, Scarborough Fair // Simon & Garfunkel, The Wreck of the Edmund Fitzgerald // Gordon Lightfoot.

26. favorite activity to do in warm weather?

Sit in the shade.

27. favorite activity to do in cold weather?

Drink tea, read, and play either Pokemon or Nancy Drew and the Clue Benders Society on my 3DS.

28. five songs to describe you?

The Pines // Roses & Revolutions, I Am Here // Pink, Walk Me Home // Pink, Call Home // Heathers (not the musical), Traveler’s Song // Aviators

29. best way to bond with you?

Talk to me about history, crime, musicals, books, or tv shows

30. places that you find sacred?

Natural swamps. Libraries. Old, overgrown gardens. Anywhere historic. Pine forests at dusk. Anywhere under a clear night sky.

31. what outfit do you wear to kick ass and take names?

A plaid shirt, black leggings, and black boots with dark neutral lipstick and a black choker.

32. top five favorite vines?

Fre she vocado, BENTLEY NOOOOO, uhhh I sure hope it does, the one of Lin Manuel-Miranda trying to brainstorm, and this bitch empty YEEt

33. most used phrase in your phone?

Idk how to find this out

34. advertisements you have stuck in your head?

Idk if this is just a local thing here but WOW ITS NATURESTONE

35. average time you fall asleep?

12-1 nowadays.

36. what is the first meme you remember ever seeing?

I can haz cheezburger

37. suitcase or duffel bag?

Depends. Suitcase for things like my laptop that are better protected than in a duffel bag, but duffel bag otherwise because they’re easier to carry.

38. lemonade or tea?

TEAAAAA

39. lemon cake or lemon meringue pie?

Both please

40. weirdest thing to ever happen at your school?

My house? We had a safe word when we did math. It was “quokka.” If we got overwhelmed we’d say it and then stop and look at pictures of quokkas.

41. last person you texted?

My friend and coworker.

42. jacket pockets or pants pockets?

Jacket pockets.

43. hoodie, leather jacket, cardigan, jean jacket or bomber jacket?

Cardigan or hoodie

44. favorite scent for soap?

Lavender

45. which genre: sci-fi, fantasy or superhero?

Fantasy. It takes me a bit to get into fantasy books usually, but sci-fi is hard to follow and superhero is mostly predictable.

46. most comfortable outfit to sleep in?

Fuzzy pants and a t shirt

47. favorite type of cheese?

Muenster, parmesan, or goat cheese

48. if you were a fruit, what kind would you be?

Raspberry

49. what saying or quote do you live by?

“I have no country to fight for. My country is the earth, and I am a citizen of this world.” - Eugene V. Debs

50. what made you laugh the hardest you ever have?

A weird local political ad a couple years back.

51. current stresses?

My recent breakup, an overnight shift I work on Wednesday night, and trying to find time to go out to a corn maze with my friend.

52. favorite font?

Baskerville or Georgia.

53. what is the current state of your hands?

Covered in small cuts and scrapes from work, nails picked short, black nail polish mostly peeled off.

54. what did you learn from your first job?

babysitting job: Kids suck never have more than one. Retail job: being on your fee it hardddd

55. favorite fairy tale?

Beauty and the Beast or Rapunzel

56. favorite tradition?

Looking at Halloween decorations

57. the three biggest struggles you’ve overcome?

Cutting, being manipulated by my dad, and letting other people make me believe I wasn’t good enough (still working on that one)

58. four talents you’re proud of having?

Writing, puzzle-solving, singing, and calligraphy

59. if you were a video game character, what would your catchphrase be?

“Oh shit waddup”

60. if you were a character in an anime, what kind of anime would you want it to be?

One of those preppy gothic private school animes with a dark secret lurking around the corner

61. favorite line you heard from a book/movie/tv show/etc.?

Book: “Ignoring isn’t the same as ignorance. You have to work at it.” - The Handmaid’s Tale. Movie: “It’s not about deserve. It’s about what you believe. And I believe in love.” - Wonder Woman. TV Show: “I am the Bad Wolf. I create myself.” - Doctor Who.

62. seven characters you relate to?

Hermione Granger, Luna Lovegood, Remus Lupin, Richard Gansey III, Blue Sargent, Dean Winchester, Charlie Bradbury.

63. five songs that would play in your club?

Same five that I said describe me.

64. favorite website from your childhood?

Webkinz and the old American Girl site circa 2009.

65. any permanent scars?

One down my chest from heart surgery as a baby, lots from self harm on my arms/legs, some on my left knee from falling as a kid, and one on the back of my right heel from being pecked by a goose at the fair when I was 11.

66. favorite flower(s)?

Sunflowers, roses, and dahlias.

67. good luck charms?

Myself.

68. worst flavor of any food or drink you’ve ever tried?

Ranch anything.

69. a fun fact that you don’t know how you learned?

Jellyfish have no brains and no heart.

70. left or right handed?

I’m third generation left handed!

71. least favorite pattern?

Vertical stripes.

72. worst subject?

Math.

73. favorite weird flavor combo?

Wendy’s fries and chocolate frosty.

74. at what pain level out of ten (1 through 10) do you have to be at before you take an advil or ibuprofen?

7. Usually I just ignore it because I have a “high pain tolerance” (which means I like to put myself through minor pains because I think I deserve it)

75. when did you lose your first tooth?

Age 5. I was trying to blow up an inflatable ball and it came out.

76. what’s your favorite potato food (i.e. tater tots, baked potatoes, fries, chips, etc.)?

ALL POTATOES EXCEPT POTATO SALAD

77. best plant to grow on a windowsill?

Violets.

78. coffee from a gas station or sushi from a grocery store?

Neither, both suck equally.

79. which looks better, your school id photo or your driver’s license photo?

Never had a school id so I guess the license

80. earth tones or jewel tones?

Earth tones for me

81. fireflies or lightning bugs?

...They are literally the same thing

82. pc or console?

PC

83. writing or drawing?

Writing. I absolutely cannot draw.

84. podcasts or talk radio?

Podcasts, talk radio is so obnoxious.

84. barbie or polly pocket?

Barbie. The clothes are easier to take on and off. I used to accidentally rip polly pocket clothes all the time.

85. fairy tales or mythology?

Mythology. I like it because it explains things, it’s creation stories, its origins. Fairy tales are just fantasies or cautionary tales.

86. cookies or cupcakes?

Cookies.

87. your greatest fear?

Rejection, drowning, and clowns.

88. your greatest wish?

To be a semi-successful author and historian.

89. who would you put before everyone else?

My mom.

90. luckiest mistake?

Not succeeding in killing myself!

91. boxes or bags?

Bags.

92. lamps, overhead lights, sunlight or fairy lights?

Dim lamps if they have yellow bulbs. I hate white lights. And also fairy lights yes please.

93. nicknames?

Ellie, Ell, Little Lion, Lioness.

94. favorite season?

FALLLLL

95. favorite app on your phone?

Tumblr, Spotify, or Instagram.

96. desktop background?

97. how many phone numbers do you have memorized?

6.

98. favorite historical era?

Revolutionary War-era America or late Victorian England.

THIS GOT REALLY LONG AND I DONT WANNA HIT THE TEXT BLOCK LIMIT SO IMMA DO ALL THE HALLOWEEN ONES SEPARATELY, MAYBE IN THE MORNING.

[news-mashable-yahoopartner-blog]

I'm giving up podcasts to save my brain and soul from overload

In an era when there's so much information — so much content — that we can never, ever be bored, I've come to a breaking point: I'm giving up podcasts.

My brain is melted from an onslaught of news and takes. I've come to realize that I'm overwhelmed and the only way to catch my breath is to cut something out. So I've cracked open my podcast app for the last time for the foreseeable future.

SEE ALSO: Spotify bets big on podcasts with acquisition of Gimlet and Anchor

That's not to say I'm giving up on listening to things on my commutes or my many, many walks with an overactive dog. There's more music available at my fingertips than I could ever hope to listen to, and I'm also taking up audiobooks as a way to help pass these cold, windy strolls through the Ohio winter. 

My farewell to podcasts didn't come easily. After all, they are extremely interesting and entertaining, like a personalized talk radio station that shuffles through topics that speaks directly to my soul. But the time has come to give my soul (and my mind) a break. I need to reclaim those hours and spend it doing something other than trying to stuff even more information into an already overpacked brain.

Information Overload

Here's the real problem: I could listen to podcasts, on double speed, for every waking minute of my week and still not come close to chipping away at the stack of all of the episodes piling up in my queue. It's the result of something good: my enthusiasm for so many things. But somewhere along the line it's taken a bad turn.

A huge part of the problem is that I've been trying to stay up on all the political news I can in a particularly volatile environment. I recently wrote for this very site about the political podcasts I listened, so there's always something in the queue. Everything from the analytical banter of the FiveThirtyEight politics podcast to the Associated Press's deeply reported "Ground Game." 

These feel like must-listens that kept me up-to-date on everything happening in the political world. And that's not including the new spate of daily news podcasts that break down everything that just happened, like the New York Times' popular "The Daily" podcast and the Washington Post's "Post Reports.

There's only so much I can really take in, though. And I'm definitely not alone. It's an extension of a wider problem that many of us have been dealing wit. Burnout over bad news has been an issue for years, but it's even more prevalent now given the volatility of the news cycle we're living through — climate change, North Korea, Trump, you name it. It's also fed by how we consume the news in a never-ending stream of TV, radio, digital video, social media, and, yes, podcasts. 

There's so much input that if you don't adjust, you just might drown in the tidal wave of information. As  someone who lives and writes on the internet all day, it's something I'm hyper aware of and — at least for me — one of the easiest ways to alleviate some of the flow is to, well, cut out the podcasts.

Podcast overload has been an issue people have explored, especially as podcasts have become more popular. In August 2017, The Ringer looked at why listening to your podcasts on hyper-speed (like, ahem, I do) doesn't really help. And in October 2017, Sirena Bergman of The Cut explored the pros and cons of cramming all these podcasts into your head in any given week. 

None of the suggestions I've found for finding balance have worked for me. I've tried to listen to many podcasts on double-speed and fewer podcasts on regular speed and neither has offered the solution I'm searching for. Even cutting back a significant amount hasn't done the trick: I just keep going back for more. So I decided that the best thing for me is to simply quit cold turkey.

Not Necessarily the News

News and politics aren't the only thingsI've been piping through my earbuds. I've been a huge fan of music podcasts for years now, specifically for my favorite jam bands: the Grateful Dead-focused "Brokedown Podcast" and three Phish-related podcasts. Throw in "Pod Dylan," which analyzes a different Bob Dylan song every episode, and I've got hours of great material every week.

You can also add to the pile the countless sports podcasts I'm subscribed to. There are the three different Chicago Cubs podcasts and then there a half-dozen other baseball podcasts. On top of that there's the odd football podcast like the "(New Orleans) Saints Happy Hour Podcast," and then the ESPN "30 for 30" podcast series. Put it all together and you've got a stack of podcasts that piles up like back issues of the New Yorker.

That's another problem: These podcasts are supposed to be informative, but they're also supposed to be fun. Hearing hosts blow off steam about, say, a terrible Super Bowl-altering no call or a deep analysis of a terrific run of Phish shows is meant to help reduce the stress that builds up in my brain from everything else. 

Instead, seeing the episodes pile up and knowing I'm never going to get to them only ups the pressure in my head. And how many more sponsored messages can I really listen to before I break down and get my own meal kit subscription?

I'm surprised no one thanked Boll & Branch, Me Undies or Casper Mattresses this #Oscars Then, again, perhaps I listen to one too many podcasts.

— GettingCookedWithCraig (@GettingCooked) February 25, 2019

I want to stay informed. I want to hear the latest analysis of up-and-coming baseball prospects or what, exactly, an obscure Bob Dylan B-side means, because it genuinely interests me. But even when I made myself stop listening to every episode and got more picky, listening only to the episodes I really wanted to check out, the stress didn't really subside.

At a certain point, the anxiety of missing out on something, anything, became greater than the excitement of listening to a new episode of any podcast. Every episode I skipped could be a golden nugget I'd never hear. Was there a terrific anecdote about Phish's latest Madison Square Garden run or a life-changing revelation about a 1972 Dead show in one of the episodes I missed? 

This overpowering fear of missing out (FOMO) became my biggest hurdle to both listening to and ultimately giving up podcasts.  

Fighting FOMO

I want to keep up. In an age where information moves impossibly fast, I want to be on that leading edge. Plus there's also the not-insignificant fear of being left out of the cultural conversation. 

A few years ago, I was able to keep up with the "Serial" zeitgeist, devouring every episode as soon as it dropped. In 2019, there are so many of these podcasts that I can't possibly keep track. "S-Town"? I fell off after several episodes and never caught back up. Same with "Dirty John" and "Slow Burn."

But I agonized over it, still downloading the episodes and telling myself that, yes, tomorrow was TOTALLY the day I'd dive in and catch up to what everyone was talking about on Twitter.

What peer-induced FOMO podcast should I be listening to?

— Derek Hiebert (@derekhiebert) February 19, 2019

The more these episodes piled up, the more stressed I became. But there just aren't enough hours in the day. And the truth is that I've got a pretty bad memory. I've probably forgotten more of the fascinating anecdotes and revelations I've been seeking than I've remembered. So what am I really missing in the end?

I'm find leaving one Stone unturned

There comes a breaking point for everyone, and I finally reached mine not long after the new year, when the lighter load of the holidays fell away and the news cycle cranked up again. When Roger Stone was finally indicted as part of the Mueller investigation, the exhaustion hit me just as the news cycle exploded, including a barrage of "emergency podcasts" on the topic.

In the days that followed, I watched the deluge of reactionary podcasts roll in, but I found the urge to click "play" was fading. Between the news I was already gleaning from social media and stories I read, that fear of missing something wasn't nearly as strong as it had been before. 

Maybe it was Trump overload, maybe it was something about Stone himself — a truly repulsive charlatan — that turned me off. Either way, as the days ticked by, I didn't feel that same pull to learn more. The hold was broken, and it was easier to let other podcasts keep slipping by until I realized I wasn't really missing anything at all. 

So long, happy trails

When I mentioned my podcast sabbatical to a friend, they asked why I was going cold turkey instead of, say, just cutting back? I get that it seems extreme but it's a mix of two things: the need to give my brain full break each day and the hope of a fresh start. 

And I plan to stick to it. I've already mowed through a few audiobooks and have downloaded another half-dozen from my local library and have no desire to give up the calmer, more cohesive experience of listening to these books for a return to chaotic world of podcasts. 

Will something ever happen to draw me back? Maybe. If and when the Mueller Report finally drops, I can see dipping a toe back into the pool for an episode or two of analysis. Same goes for some sort of major move by one of my sports teams. (Say, the Cubs suddenly signing free agent star Bryce Harper.) 

SEE ALSO: Podcasts were my friends when I had none

But, for now, I'm done. Maybe getting my brain smoothed back out over the coming months will put me in a better place to come back to a slimmed down input of podcasts in time for, say, the 2020 presidential election. 

Even then, I'll need to wade slowly into the shallow end. If I do come back, I know I'll feel a lot better about managing the overload and being picky, making sure that what I choose to take in will be truly beneficial for me and something I can truly value. FOMO, be damned.

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