#but that somehow made me feel like i had deleted whatever writing skills i had left

[loudlooks]

Close Shave

Is Tiva Fic Amnesty still a thing now that Ziva’s officially back? BTW, I’m totally ignoring the “not every fic needs to be published” rule here, consider that a warning.

I don’t remember what time frame I pictured this in, maybe season 5 or 6? As usual, no plot. Loosely inspired by a scene from The X-files (which unfortunately wasn’t even MSR, except in my imagination).

Also on FF and AO3

Word count: 1805

A yank on the drawer handle revealed his electric shaver. Grabbing it with one hand, rubbing the scruff on his chin with the other, he looked up just in time to see Ziva roll her eyes.

“What?”

“Imagine if I shaved my legs at my desk,” she replied testily.

He raised an eyebrow and grinned widely, only mildly disappointed he hadn’t come up with that image before. “Nobody would get any work done,” he said as his eyes wandered to where her legs were hidden behind the cold, hard metal of her desk.

She turned towards her computer screen, but he caught the corners of her lips twitch ever so slightly.

“Think of the cleaning crew, Tony,” she said flatly.

Ignoring her comment, he tried to remember what her bare legs looked like while hitting the power button on his shaver. Silence greeted him and he pushed the switch once more.

Nothing.

Resisting the urge to smack it on the side of his desk, he muttered, “Damn it, I charged you yesterday.”

Turning the electric razor over and over in his hand, vigorously  pressing the button a few more times—surely it will work this time—he looked up when Gibbs dumped two items on his desk before heading to the elevator.

He picked up Gibbs’ straight razor and opened it carefully. As the blade glinted in the fluorescent light overhead, he met Ziva’s eyes across the bullpen, and deadpanned, “I think the boss wants me dead.”

She was beside him in a flash, admiring the lethal piece of steel with an eager smile. “I have not used one of those in years.”

“Why did you use a…” He stood up, pushing images of slit throats and blood stains to the back of his mind. “You know what, I don’t wanna know.” He grabbed the shaving gel and pointed it at her. “If I’m not back in ten, call Ducky and tell him to bring a body bag.”

He tried to walk around her, but Ziva stopped him with a finger to his chest. “I am very good with knives, I could give you a shave.”

Staring down at her smiling face, he raised an eyebrow. The gleam in her eyes both worried and excited him. He bit down a smile as angry hornets seemed to take up residence in his stomach.

“Someone’s an eager beaver.” He regretted the words as soon as they left his lips, images of her strong tan legs, and a skimpy bikini bottom flashed to the forefront of his mind.

She tilted her head and narrowed her eyes, it only made him want to stay in her personal space even longer. Accepting her offer would achieve just that. “Fine,” he said with a calmness he didn’t feel.

Her smile turned mischievous and his brain to mush; he’d always had a soft spot for her dangerous side. It haunted him in his dreams, and occasionally his nightmares.

She grabbed a small towel from her backpack, and almost speed-walked towards the men’s room. He followed her like a puppy—who’s the eager beaver now—his gaze focused on the sway of her hips.

The way she barged into the men’s room like she owned the place sent a tingle down his spine. She kind of did, he supposed, other agents always scattered like roaches afraid of the light when she walked in there.

“This isn’t going to be perfect,” Ziva said as she dumped the towel next to the sink, turned on the hot water tap, then grabbed a stack of paper towels from the dispenser. “But it will be fun.” Her gaze flicked down his body, briefly landing on his lips on the way up.

His smile wavered, then he grimaced into the mirror and rubbed his hands over his cheeks. “I don’t want to end up like Leatherface.” He ignored her look of confusion—as well as the disappointment in himself for once again skirting around their obvious physical attraction—and continued, “Isn’t it ironic that I trust you more with a razor sharp blade against my throat than behind the wheel of a car.”

She roughly pushed him aside with her hip, stepped in front of the sink and glared at his reflection. He patted his cheeks again, making sure that laser sharp look hadn’t rendered a shave unnecessary.

After soaking the towel with hot running water and wringing it out, she handed it to him, and told him to cover his face. He briefly complained about how ridiculously elaborate she was making things, but complied after she raised an eyebrow and tested the sharpness of the razor on a paper towel.

His face and ears warmed exponentially with each passing moment of awkward silence. “I feel like an idiot.” The towel covering his face only half responsible for his mixed feelings.

“Good.”

The hint of amusement in her voice was barely audible, but enough to release the tightness that had settled around his heart. A second later, Ziva pulled the towel away, made room next to the sink and easily lifted herself onto the countertop. As soon as she grabbed hold of his tie, pulling him in between her legs, any sense of awkwardness evaporated. He scanned her face intently, looking—hoping—for...for what exactly? The lingering smell of her shampoo heightened his senses, and he wondered, not for the first time, when she had started getting under his skin quite like this.

Ziva seemed unaffected, preoccupied with lathering up shaving gel in the palms of her hands.

Clinging to the belief that he had gotten better at reading her than even Gibbs, he hoped for a look, he’d settle for a glance—one of those furtive, yet exposed glances she sometimes sent him when she thought he wasn’t paying attention.

And there it was, so fleeting he would’ve missed it if he hadn’t been fixated on her every move. Unaware, her gaze immediately followed what her hands were doing—spreading the gel evenly all over his two-day stubble.

Emboldened by the evanescent look, he smiled faintly and placed his hands on either side of her legs. She narrowed her eyes at a spot close to his ear, fussing with the gel too long for it to be anything other than a distraction.

“Stop smiling,” she said quietly.

His smile widened, she briefly closed her eyes, then met his. “Tony.”

It never seized to amaze him how much she could say with just one word, his name. Not quite an admonishment, more of an acknowledgement, a “not now, but maybe later”.

She held the razor up, and he knew she was right; there wasn’t time to get into any of this now, he had to be clean-shaven and dressed to the nines in half an hour. Why was their timing always off?

He sighed and relaxed his face so she could get to work.

Pulling the skin taut with one hand, she placed the edge of the cold blade against his cheek with the other. “I haven’t done this in a while.”

His eyes flashed to hers. Was she talking about the shaving or that thing between them that they weren’t talking about? The mischievous grin appeared again, only this time it annoyed him more than anything else. He was tired of maintaining the status quo, evading his feelings with humor and banter.

As she moved the blade downwards in slow, even strokes that he could barely feel, he considered the possibility of having read her wrong. Maybe their physical closeness, the intimacy of trusting her to run a blade over his face and throat, had clouded his judgement.

“How attached are you to your sideburns?” She wasn’t even trying to hide the teasing in her voice.

His skin tingled as sweat began to form, frustration building as feelings of doubt settled deep down inside. “Can you stop joking.”

She looked at him with raised eyebrows. “That’s rich coming from you.”

“Hey, I joke to deflect.” Ziva narrowed her eyes. “And, occasionally out of boredom,” he conceded.

She lowered her hands, busied them with cleaning the blade, then looked at him decisively. “I know.” Inhaling deeply, she placed to razor on his other cheek. “Let us  just get this over with.”

Did she mean the shave, or the conversation they had been avoiding for years?

Her hands moved expertly over his face as his drifted to her thighs on their own volition. She stilled her movements, a beat passed before her gaze met his. Open and exposed she bit her bottom lip, then got back to work.

He didn’t dare move his hands until she rinsed the blade and carefully placed it aside. His fingers squeezed gently, feeling the strong muscle underneath the rough denim as she held his gaze.

She dabbed his face clean with wet paper towels, avoiding his gaze again, a myriad of emotions  washing over her eyes, eventually settling on fear.

“It will be dangerous,’ she said gravely.

It took him a moment to realize she was talking about the undercover op, not them. He grinned and squeezed her thighs reassuringly. “You’ll have my back.”

Shaking her head vigorously, she said, “No, Tony, I will be in the van down the road, it could take minutes before I…”

Smoothing her fingers over his cheeks,  her thumbs briefly caressed his lips and she made eye contact.

He smiled gently. “I’ll be careful, I’m gonna want another shave like this.”

She released a breath, fear fading from her eyes as she leaned in closer. Her lips touched his tentatively at first, then firmly. Claiming him, giving him a reason to be extra careful.

The sound of the door handle barely registered in his mind, and was swiftly followed by Ziva’s warm hands on his chest, pushing him backwards as she slid of the countertop, turned and smoothly wiped up some spilled water with a paper towel.

From the corner of his eye he saw the door open and a familiar figure walk in. Briefly looking at Ziva in the mirror, he noticed a light blush on her cheeks.

“Oh, hey, boss,” he said lightly.

Gibbs looked at him with scrutiny, then a gave a small nod. “Nice job, Ziver.”

She turned around, blush gone, that mischievous look that always stirred up the hornets’ nest in his stomach firmly in place. Smiling smugly, she looked from him to Gibbs, and said, “It’s not every day I have the opportunity to put I knife so close to DiNozzo’s throat.”

Gibbs smirked and walked past them without a second glance.

Feeling overly confident he winked at Ziva before quickly gathering his things, and catching up to her at the door. He glanced back at Gibbs, then opened the door for Ziva and whispered, “That was a really close shave.”

[thequeenindisguise]

SOMEWHERE IN NEVERLAND (ICHIRUKI AU)

Here it is! My first and probably last entry for Ichiruki Month 2021... to be more specific, it’s for Day 11 with the prompt “What do you dream of?”  

I think the last time I participated was like, what? Five years ago? Yikes. I didn’t even improve haha and okay, I know somewhere, sometime ago, someone has already done this AU though. And this was based off the amazing work of jon-lock from deviant art so this would look like crap next to his work. I mean I suck at coloring and at a bunch of other things, I know! But I just really felt like doing this. 

I was actually thinking of writing a fic about it, but if I’m the one doing it, it’s probably going to be multi-chaptered and I just can’t commit to that. So if you know of any fics or fanart with the same theme, hope you can link them to me 😊 I’d really love to dive myself in them.

But despite saying that, it didn’t stop me from writing this silly one-shot called Somewhere In Neverland feel free to read and review there, if you have the time.

And now, if you read through all that, thank you so much for your time! Be safe, hope you enjoy the rest of your day and the rest of Ichiruki Month :D

And now for some more story time, you don’t need to read through this. It will be just me sharing some personal stuff… So feel free to move on with your life without this. Seriously. You can stop here if you just accidentally pressed the keep reading button, you are forgiven 😊

Oh… you’re still reading? Okay, then. So I’ve been really depressed lately, more on because my current job sucks, I just lost the opportunity to get my dream job, the pandemic’s still on-going and I just feel like nothing’s really going on with my life (T.T) I’m broke AF, it’s hard to fall asleep, my face is all pimply, I’ve gained a lot of weight and basically, this is just a low point for me. 

Okay, I know that there are other people with much bigger problems than what I’m going through right now so I just try to deal with it on my own. I made a fanart, just to feel like I’m focusing on something and I actually finished the thing just to ease my mind of my worries. It was kinda therapeutic and I kind of like the feeling of actually accomplishing something. And I even mustered up the courage to join the discord server for IR. My anti-social ass was proud of that. I was even thinking of posting this fanart there just to show everyone that I really appreciate them for welcoming me but at the last minute I chickened out but ended up posting it here? I don’t know either. I’m weird like that. Even though everyone there seemed really fun and supportive, I just… didn’t want to ruin the vibe with my negative aura (the latest chapter was enough to trigger everyone. Didn’t wanna add to that).

Anyway, thinking about these past horrible days and listening to some really sad songs, because why not add to the drama? I was listening to one song about running away to “Neverland” and it got me thinking wouldn’t it be great if I were to just stay a kid forever? That way I wouldn’t have to deal with the pressures of adulthood. Then I thought about Wendy from Neverland and somehow I remembered that on that 2nd Disney movie, she grew up. And to confirm it, I just had to search for that clip on youtube. And yes, it was the part where Peter saw her as an adult and oh god, I kid you not, I started bawling. One, because I didn’t realize that I ship them… oops… and I wondered if Wendy, even as an adult, ever thought of what it’d be like if she had stayed in Neverland. Then I also found this deleted scene from the live action movie which showed Peter reuniting with her, hoping to take her back but he couldn’t anymore because she’s all grown up, and he was so heartbroken by it but then she introduces him to her daughter, with who he takes with him (weird? Maybe that was why it was deleted haha).

And so, I’ve been thinking about it a lot and as always I ended up thinking about Bleach and IR because of the new chapter and all (which wasn’t released yet back then). And I wondered what would it be like if they were in Peter pan and Wendy’s shoes—but first off, I didn’t think Ichigo would fit the role of not growing up because I don’t know, despite being a teen, he looked matured and kinda scary? Kids would never go with him. He’ll be better as the Grinch of Christmas because kids would probably feel like they’ll be bullied even though he’s a nice guy. And so I realize, oh it’s better if we switch them up and make Rukia Peter Pan because she’d be looking young forever while Ichigo grows old (which was what I was expecting from Bleach but somehow they all seem to be aging at the same time now, with all the marriages and the making babies or whatever) And to parallel the manga I realized that maybe having Ichigo live his life (in the world of the living) and have a family would probably be something that Rukia would be really proud of and would be happy to see (Okay, hold up. Just to be clear, I still don’t like the ending for so many other reasons but if it had to go down with Ichigo making a family WITHOUT Rukia then this better be the damn reason for it and that’s to protect him by making him live a normal and safe life before they reunite again in SS. I rest my case.).

And so I connect all this to Day 11 – What do you dream of? Because, well, since the prompt really is up to interpretation… it can be like a “dream” in life? Or just maybe a dream at night? Anyway, this is what I dreamt of literally. Again, I’ve been thinking about it all the time lately  so I had to let it out. And of course, in relation to IR and in this AU setting, they probably dream of being together too (both in life and at night haha) <3

And that’s about it. I just want to leave this long message here so that when the time comes that I feel so much better, I’ll know what I was going through behind this not-so-good-but-a-little-better-than-my-other-works-so-far fanart and that one-shot that I tried my best to write despite my writing skills being very rusty, and know that it will be alright someday and that I’ll probably get through it whatever it was that I’m going through at this moment.

If you’ve reached until the end then wow. Bless your kind soul really and hope you have a great dinner and of course, thank you for lending me your ears or eyes (since you had to read). I may not know you but I really, really appreciate your time 😊

[kominum]

rewatching old sailor moon and thought of like... disgruntled tuxedo mask!corpse but with unrequited love because i’m a glutton for angst

wc: ~2.2k 

warnings: death of a minor character, implicit knowledge of sailor moon lore, modern twist, unedited

please send in ideas you might have that i could write short blurbs for! this was honestly fun to write. 

It’s a scratch he can’t itch. It’s what has him waking up in cold sweats, confused and moderately annoyed that his hard-earned sleep has been so rudely interrupted. He hates the cape, he hates the itchy suit, he abhors the top hat – and the only things he doesn’t really hate are his baton and endless supply of darkened roses.

The first time he transformed, he was half-asleep and struggling to understand why he was speeding down the highway and parking two blocks away from some random back alley. His pain was relatively dulled, which was surprising, and his body suddenly possessed a world of fighting skills that felt foreign yet familiar. All he could recognize was a slightly disheveled woman cursing and just trying her best against some odd form of demon spawn, and before he knew it, he’d thrown down a dark purple rose and engaged in combat. Once said woman found an opening, she took off her headband/tiara, performed a throw that would put professional frisbee players to shame, and the monster disintegrated into dust.

“Jesus Christ,” he panted, body hunched over and hands on his knees. “What the fuck was that?”

“More like who the fuck are you?”

“Fuck if I know,” he muttered and dusted himself off.  

“What’s with your get-up anyways?” She failed to hide her snickering. “You’re 3 decades behind.”

“Do I look like I want to fight in a suit? Plus, you’re fighting in some rendition of a schoolgirl uniform.” Her black thigh-high boots were killer, but he wasn’t about to give her the satisfaction.

“You should’ve seen what it was before, but I was able to make some changes. Good heads-up for you and—”

“Sailor Moon, are you okay?!”

Oh. So she’s got a talking cat, too. What in fresh hell was going on? Did he take something? But also—“Your name is Sailor Moon?”

“We’re working on the name change,” she grumbled, bending down to let said feline jump up her arm and settle on her shoulder. “Anyways, uh…thanks. I was kind of in a bind, but I’m usually not I swear. Good timing, I guess?”

“If that’s what you wanna call it.” But she was already in the wind, hopping from roof to roof with no inhibitions, and left him completely dumbfounded.

His silly attire dissolved back into his previous clothing as he ambled back towards his car, thought not exactly at his own will. But he shrugged, slid into the car seat, and dialed the only person he could think of who would readily pick up at this ungodly hour of…2:37AM. That was just the start, and he can’t tell if things went downhill from there.

-

He should backtrack.

He met you almost two years ago at a hospital.

You had been waiting anxiously for your boyfriend to come out of surgery after being in a bad car accident, biting your nails, occasionally pacing back and forth, smoothing your hands worriedly against your jeans, and gnawing your bottom lip to death. It was midday, sometime after lunch, and he’d come in for some routine checkup he can’t remember what for now, and sat a few seats away from you in the tiny hospital coffee shop. He’s no therapist or expert, but he highly doubted that any caffeine would alleviate your anxiety. Yet you sat there with two to-go cups and a granola bar wrapper, and something told him to stick around for now.

He’s never been one for a lot of small talk, but you looked to be about his age and no one else was with you. Tragedy tasted most bitter when alone, and some force of the universe told him to at least say something, anything. So he stuffed his hands into his hoodie and shuffled awkwardly to your table, tentatively asking a, “Hey, uh…is everything okay?”

You’d looked up at him with wild eyes on the verge of tears, heart battering against your chest, and the only intelligible thing that left your mouth was a “Huh?”

And he’d casted a gentle grin, eyes laced with a mixture of pity and concern, and asked again his first question. “My boyfriend’s in surgery. He got in a bad accident. There’s um…roughly two hours left, I think.”

“And you thought coffee would make it better?” He jutted his chin towards your large cups.

“Hot chocolate,” you chuckled. “I’m not keen on torturing myself like that, not now at least.”

“Well, I’ve got an appointment soon but I should be done before his surgery’s over…want me to come check up on you?”

Dumbfounded was the best way to describe your expression, and he was so close to retracting his offer before you gave him one of the most thankful smiles he’d seen in many years. “I’d really appreciate that.”

He nodded. “Sounds good then. Give me a sec.”

At the counter, he paid for another cup of hot chocolate and added in a chocolate chip cookie for good measure before bringing it back to you. “I hear chocolate helps.”

“Thank you, again. Go, don’t want to make you late.”

But an hour and a half later in the waiting area outside surgery, the doctor came out with a solemn expression, and you all but collapsed into the plastic chairs, tears leaking like waterfalls from your eyes. Part of him wanted to bail and go because there wasn’t much he could do, but it wouldn’t be right to leave you to drive home now. He wanted to make sure that you were calmed down, all cried out, and breathing properly so you could at least operate a vehicle safely.

The same unknown force had him offering you his number in case you needed anyone to talk to, yet the conversation sat empty for weeks until curiosity and guilt ate at him. He tapped out a message, deleting it, then another one, more deleting, before he settled on a plain, “It’s the guy from the hospital. I know it’s been a while but…how are you?”

Your reply was almost instantaneous, to which he worried if he’d accidentally woken you up at 4:13AM. First, it’s a casual, “hey, thanks for checking up on me! I’m doing okay,” but he knew better. And the other shoe dropped in the form of a simple, “I miss him.”

It’s a quiet, heartwarming friendship. You know nothing specific about him – he’s incredibly vague on any identifying information. Hell, you’d be willing to bet that the name at the hospital was a fake one. Nevertheless, he’s one of your closest friends. You know he mainly works online, has a lot of trouble sleeping, is chronically ill and has a number of medical conditions, his general disposition and feelings on things, but overall, just wonderfully easy to talk to.

Yet something just feels wrong about falling in love with him. It’s a horrid combination of guilt and disbelief. Are you rebounding? Are you subconsciously searching for your dead ex-boyfriend? Are you so desperate for romantic connections that you’ve twisted yourself into believing you love a man that you’ve seen fewer times than the number of fingers you have?

You come to peace with it when his custom ringtone chimes softly on your nightstand in the middle of the night. Rain or shine, stars or none, there’s nothing you wouldn’t do for him. Nothing has ever woken you up so quickly, not even alarms on interview days. “Hello?”

“Sorry, did I wake you up?”

“Kind of, but it’s fine. What’s up? Wait,” you interrupt yourself and listen carefully to your speaker. “Are you…driving?”

“…yeah.”

“Should I ask from or to where?”

“I…honestly don’t know. Something felt off, felt like I had to get out of my place and just fucking do something. So uh, I drove somewhere and just started driving back home.”

You curl up under your sheets on your side and plug your earbuds into the phone. “Well, did it get rid of whatever you were feeling?”

“I think so? Honestly couldn’t fucking tell you. Still really bizarre to me.”

“I’ll take your word for it,” you murmur. “Well, feel free to call me whenever you feel like that again.”

“I don’t wanna fuck up your sleep schedule though. Feel like it’ll happen more often than I’d like.”

“How about this – if I don’t pick up, it’ll just be my nice way of saying ‘fuck off, too busy sleeping right now’?”

A soft, deep chuckle warms your chest and cheeks. “Sounds good. So how’ve you been?”

“Well, you know…”

It’s the same night that you think you might have a chance at love again. You fall asleep with his voice weaving stories and tales in your ears and wake up to a message that says, “Wow, didn’t know I was so fucking boring that it made you snore so loud.” The hope that creeps through your veins is dangerous and thrums urgently whenever you get a call or message from him.

And as bright as a star, it all comes crashing down in a firey blaze.

You crash into a girl as mysterious and serenely beautiful as the moon with a talking black cat one afternoon. She exudes a gorgeous amount of confidence in her stance as she protects you from a creature that looks like it’s out of a horror video game, and you can only stare in awe. The cat from before yells instructions at you, throwing what looks like a pen with a red cap on it and you blindly follow them. Your subsequent red heels feel incredibly comfortable and you can’t remember the last time you wore a skirt – but there’s no time to ponder as you push the girl you were admiring out of harm’s way and somehow manage to direct fire at them from your fingertips.

The monster burns and screams in agony before getting hit with what looks like a glowing frisbee. Your savior wipes the dust off her outfit before extending a hand out to you, “Welcome to the club, Sailor Mars.”

Say what now?

“There’s gotta be a better name than that,” is the first thing you say as you get pulled up. She throws her head back and lets out a charmingly obnoxious laugh. “We’ll work on changing it. I can tell we’re gonna be good friends.”

“Her name ended up being a rip-off of my name,” the cat quips and receives a scowl from the supposed plagiarizer. “I’m Luna, and this is Sailor Moon, or Lunaria she says.”

“You gotta admit, that’s cutting it a little close,” you agree and Lunaria flips the bird. “How the fuck am I going to change Sailor Mars? Also, can I do anything about this outfit?”

“We can go shopping tomorrow for sure. Luna and I can fill you on everything and – oh, before I forget, there’s a guy—”

“So it looks like you don’t need my help?”

You freeze in your steps, startled by the familiar baritone approaching you two. He was involved in all this?

“I told you, I don’t need your help—”

“Is she new?”

“Yeah, which means, we really don’t need your help. She’s got actual fire power. Literal fire.”

“That’s pretty fucking cool,” he accepts. “Good to meet you.”

You spot a set of veiny fingers that appears in your peripheral and you tentatively turn in his direction, hoping that your hair will obstruct your face as much as possible. “Same,” your throat manages to squeak out as his warm hand engulfs yours in a firm handshake.

“Get out of here, Corpse,” Lunaria chides and lets go of you to push a finger to his chest.

“I’m only here because you fucking needed saving. Now you’ve got another person dragged in.”

“I told you, I’m not some fucking damsel in distress,” she hisses. The mirth in his visible eye only causes the infuriation to grow and swirl more vigorously in her gut.

You watch the exchange from the sidelines as Corpse’s teasing only increases and provokes Lunaria further, disheartened that you’ve never heard him laugh so much in one exchange before. Dread from deep within your veins begins to freeze around your heart, something so set and undeniable that causes your brain to realize that falling in love with him was a mistake. It was the kind of mistake that would strike you with pain for years and the intense foreshadowing has you spinning on your heel and bounding through an alleyway. Your outfit shifts back to what you’d been wearing before, the characteristic weight of your phone in your back pocket seeming heavier than ever.

You call him that night, holding in a deep breath when the dial tone breaks midway. A rustle, a breath, and then, “Hey what’s up?”

Oh god, you scream to yourself as your heart shatters at the bottom of your chest. His voice, again, cannot be misconstrued as anyone else’s – the inflection, the tone, the volume, everything belonged to him.

And the universe told you then and there that he, undoubtedly, belonged to her.

[passable-talent]

Heyyyyy I love how y’all write zuko! Could I ask for an imagine where the reader is zuko’s servant and is very shy and docile, and one of the guards on his ship tries to intimidate her but zuko goes in to defend her. Thanks 💗💗💗💗

as this was requested nearly two months ago, it is a relic of another time. that’s why I’m excusing the female pronouns. but be aware- incoming asks now get deleted if they ask for female reader in any way. yes, I’m being a hardass about it

You had the fortune of being born a firebender. Sadly, that was where your fortune ended. You were born into the lowest class of the fire nation- the servant class. You couldn’t do much to bring honor to your name, other than to do your best to serve whatever household you were placed into.

You weren’t very good at that, either. You were so bad at it, in fact, that when it came time for the young prince Zuko to take a ship and head off to find the avatar, you were given to him almost as a joke, as though you would make his life harder, instead of easier.

You were determined to prove them wrong. So every day, you did your chores dutifully. You purified salt water from the seas to make it into drinking water, and used some of it to wash the sheets and clothes of the crewman, the prince and general of course being treated first. Then, as it was lunch by the time you’d finish, you would help the cooks distribute lunch to all of the crewman.

Then, in the afternoon, you would assist both the prince and anyone else in the crew with anything they needed. Usually, you fetched parchment, or maps, or new candle wax. You helped distribute the evening meal, and after dinner you finally had time to yourself.

Most nights, you wandered to the bow of the ship, and practiced firebending.

You didn’t have much need for the skill. You weren’t gifted, and it wasn’t as though anyone expected you to help fight any sort of battles, as you weren’t a soldier. You didn’t plan on fighting any Agni Kais, and your bending was already good enough for mundane things, like lighting candles and thawing crewmen who stepped the wrong way in front of the avatar’s waterbending friend.

By all accounts, there was no need to train you any further.

And yet, you did. You had a passion for firebending- not for the fighting, and the martial arts, but for the way it made you feel. You loved the noise of the flame, and the energy that coursed through your bones, and the heat of the fire. You loved the warmth and the light that it spread. Though you had no teacher, you trained the best you could, practicing forms you had witnessed General Iroh teaching prince Zuko.

You hadn’t gotten in trouble yet. You didn’t know why you would, after all, you were off duty after dinner, but still you feared that somehow you were breaking a rule. Yet you thought that maybe the night watchman was less concerned with your shenanigans than whatever else their duties were. Maybe you had been reported, but hellfire was yet to rain upon you. There was no way to know.

You took a deep breath to calm your nerves and began your forms again, your shoulders square and torso strong but your footwork lacking.

“May I?” asked a voice behind you, and you turned to see General Iroh, sitting down at his Pi Sho table.

“General,” you said, turning toward him and bowing deeply. “I didn’t mean to interrupt you, I’ll see myself to bed right away-“

“No, Y/N,” Iroh said, “it seems I am the one who has interrupted you. I sometimes enjoy a late night tea, and look at the stars. Don’t let me stop you.” You paused, shocked, but soon offered him a grateful smile and returned to your movements.

You faced the bow of the ship, and struck forward with both hands, knuckles vertical, making fire frame the point of the bow. Then, you jumped, launching upward and letting your body drift sideways as you struck your hand and foot in opposite directions, sending arcs of flame. You were supposed to land on your feet, but you stumbled sideways, and took the fall to your hip, then hands.

“Your technique is strong, but you need to focus more on your footwork,” General Iroh said, making you stiffen up. You hadn’t realized he’d been watching you- much less that he would critique.

“Much like earthbenders, firebenders can gain control from their connection to the ground. Keep your stances strong, and mind your center of gravity. This will help you control your flame.” You turned to the General and bowed again, a small smile on your face.

“Thank you, General,” you said, and began the set anew.

And so it became a pattern. General Iroh would often take naps in the afternoon, so that he could sit under the stars with you and help you learn. You couldn’t ever thank him enough, as he had no need to do this for you. Regardless, your skill began to strengthen, slowly as it was.

It did mean, however, that you were much more tired in the mornings. When you got up to clean up from breakfast one morning, your drowsiness was so strong that you managed to stumble when delivering Lieutenant Jee his tea. You apologized profusely, and immediately offered to get him another cup, regardless of the shard of porcelain stuck into the center of your palm, but it seemed that he wouldn’t hear it.

“You should’ve never been placed on this ship,” the lieutenant jeered, “It’s ridiculous that the good crewmen of this ship are burdened with not only a moody teenager as a captain, but also a clumsy teenager as a servant.” You looked to the side, hoping that maybe you would garner Iroh’s pity, and he would come to your rescue. But instead, you saw him walking away, showing utter indifference to your situation.

“We’re not the banished ones! Why are we being punished?” As he raised his voice, you tucked your chin down, hoping to diffuse his anger with your submission, complacency.

“My apologies, Lieutenant, I’m sorry-“

“You should be sorry. You’re nothing. To think that you’ve even been trying to be a firebender. You’ll never be more than you are- a useless servant.”

“Leave them alone,” said Zuko, emerging from the interior of the ship. Behind him walked Iroh, and you realized that the General had gone to fetch the prince.

“If you think that Y/N is useless, I’d love to see how you manage a day without their help. You may be a lieutenant, but you show no respect.” Lieutenant Jee turned from the conversation, seemingly chased off, and Prince Zuko turned to you.

“Are you alright?” He asked, and you realized you’d never seen a side of him so caring. Slowly you turned over your palm, revealing the shard still stuck into your hand, and the trail of blood it had dripped and carved.

“Come inside, I’ll get you to the medic,” he said, and you followed him into the ship. However, he took you nowhere near the medic’s chambers, instead pulling you into his own. He had you sit down in front of his desk, and gathered a bandage from a nearby storage chest.

“If he says anything like that to you again, tell me,” the prince ordered you, and you nodded, casting your eyes to the floor. You never thought you’d be in his chambers- let alone when he’d just saved you. He sat in front of you, gently taking your hand and turning over your palm so that he could slowly pull out the shard of cup you’d smashed into it. Gently, he used a wet cloth to wipe the blood from your hand, his palm placed over your knuckles to hold your hand in place. Then, he wrapped your hand, and though you knew that your body carried the heat of a firebender, you couldn’t help but think that his hands felt so warm.

“My uncle said that you’re a promising firebender,” Zuko said, seemingly struggling to make conversation.

“I’m trying to learn,” you answered, voice small. You still felt so out of your element, being in his chambers.

“I could pardon you for an afternoon, so you can train with me. If you want.”

“I don’t think I’m good enough for that,” you said quickly, astonished he’d even offer.

“Well, when you’ve learned more. Maybe then.” You nodded, and he tucked your bandages into place, a small metal clip keeping them from unraveling. You stood up quickly, and bowed to him.

“Thank you,” you said, before rushing from his sight.

You couldn’t help the blush that rose on your cheeks, nor the way your heart pounded. You never thought he’d even known your name- and now he offered to train with and protect you.

Maybe the prince wasn’t as emotionally closed off as the crew seemed to think. Maybe there was something in his chest, something that you might even be able to reach.

Maybe.

-🦌 Roe

[faulty-writes]

Hi !!! I don’t know if the pride month requests are closed since in your bio it says they’re closed. if they are feel free to delete !!! But if you do take requests, can I request an iida x male reader, where Iida finds himself falling for the reader, but is in constant denial? Then he confides in midoriya or uraraka about his confusion and it somehow clicks in that he’s gay?? It can be headcannons, a Drabble or a one shot! Cliche, but this dude doesn’t get enough rep !!

[ I love my Iida boys. Honestly, they deserve more love. I’m currently reading My Hero Academia: Vigilantes and when Tensei Iida was introduced. I was freaking out so much, my friend had to tell me to breathe. I was simply fangirling too much. Give my Iida boys the love they deserve! <3 That being said, my boy deserves to be in a one-shot. So enjoy! I love writing for Tenya, he is such a good character! ] 

“What is it about him that distracts me so? I find myself staring at him with such strange desires coursing through my head, I simply cannot conclude an answer to this odd phenomenon. I have tried to come to a sensible solution, an explanation of what this feeling is. I cannot explain myself in full detail.” he began, his eyes focused down and his hands promptly resting on his lap. He had decided to finally confront this issue, despite the fact that he was in denial. Yes, perhaps he could admit the way he was feeling could be described as love.

But how could he possibly accept such a thing? He was a hero first, above everything. He wanted to be able to soar, to be a great role model for others. More so, he wanted to be like his big brother, Tensei. The person he had looked up to all his life, the person that had told him to become Ingenium. To carry on the name with honor, Tenya truthfully did not like thinking back to how his brother handed off that title so easily. But, his brother was doing much better and slowly adjusting to his new life in a wheelchair.

He still managed to smile and laugh, which Tenya treasured, and though he felt as if he were bothering his brother with this confusing conversation revolving around you. He knew his brother would not judge him, in fact, despite looking confused. Tensei started to laugh and Tenya looked baffled. “Please do not laugh at me! I know it’s rather hard...for I have not come to you with such a problem before, but I do not find entertainment in laughing at other’s problems!” he snapped, his hands chopping through the air like wild and Tensei’s laughter came to an end.

Though there was still a smile on the man’s face as he reached up and grabbed the back of Tenya’s neck, gently guiding him down. “Ten...sometimes you’re so oblivious,” he commented before pressing his forehead against his younger brother’s. Tenya’s eyes went wide and though he wanted to pull away, he forced himself to stay still. Tensei was always open with his affection and wore his heart on his sleeve and whatever he had to say, Tenya would be most attentive to. “If you stop looking at it as a problem...and instead, follow your feelings. Maybe you’d find the answer for yourself.” Tensei chuckled as he leaned back.

“What do you mean? How is one to follow feelings?” he paused, his body trembling before he looked away. There was a faint flush across his cheeks and he cleared his throat. “I mean, ahem...not that I have such feelings. It’s simply...impossible.” Tensei rolled his eyes, though he was still wearing a smile as he rolled away from his brother. “Uh-huh, Ten...whatever you say,” Tenya growled and swirled on his feet. “You are not much help!” he called after his brother, but once more he was greeted with laughter in response.

He let out a sigh and pressed two fingers to his forehead, jabbing at it as he tried to think of how he could possibly sort out this issue himself. It was rather crazy, he had never felt this way around anyone before. At first, he believed it was simply because of your quirk, perhaps you made him feel this way. But your quirk didn’t deal with emotions, so that theory was quickly disposed of. He then thought perhaps the way he was feeling was simply admiration, he had watched you train and your combat skills were impressive.

During the Sports Festival, he had gone toe to toe with you and though somehow, he was distracted. His face was red as he found himself staring at you. The way you moved your body and the fact, you did not hold back was incredible. He had almost thought he scared you off after the match was through because he couldn’t stop himself from speaking words of praise toward you. Most would have walked away from Tenya when he started rambling on and on, but you did not. In fact, you stayed to hear what he had to say and thanked him after.

Tenya always feels his stomach twist when he thinks back to the hug you had given him after that, somehow he felt himself longing for your touch once more and he hated it. This was nothing more than a phase, an admiration, a...he couldn’t honestly think of any other way to put it. His brother was deemed no help in this situation and the battle within his own mind proved to be a waste of time. Who else could he go to and with the confidence they wouldn’t make fun of him? Given, he had thought of going to his friend’s before.

However, Midoriya and Ochako were the ones he was closest to and the ones that he trusted more than anything. Midoriya had proved time and time again that he was nothing less than a hero. Strong, honest, and only had the desire to help others. Ochako was a tad different, she was happy and gave it her all. She was always encouraging others and while she could be shy at times. She would never intentionally hurt anyone. Tenya let out a sigh, nervously tapping his chin as he continued to think. “I suppose I have no choice,” he said, tomorrow morning he’d make the choice to reveal the secret he had been holding for so long.

Despite being nervous, he knew he had to end this somehow. When morning came, Tenya had woken up early. Deciding to go about his morning routine as quickly as he could. This included taking a shower, getting a fresh pair of glasses, eating a healthy breakfast, and bidding his family goodbye. Normally he would have awoken in the dorm building, but as of late he requested a small leave so he may stay at the Iida Estate during this rather confusing problem. But it felt almost refreshing to be able to walk to U.A. High and he smiled as he entered into Class 1-A.

He looked around, his fellow classmates were sitting and chatting amongst each other. However, Tokoyami had seemed to make it a habit of sitting on the desk. Tenya couldn’t help the growl that came from his throat and raised his hand, ready to scold the fellow hero before he heard his name, “Iida?” he felt his face immediately flush and his stomach twisted, that familiar feeling of butterflies rising and it caused him to clench his jaw. Damn it. He hated this feeling so much, but he took a deep breath. It would be rude not to face you during a conversation.

“Y-Yes?” he said as he hesitantly turned around, his body completely stiff and his fingers sticking straight out at his sides. “H-How may I be of assistance to you, Y/n?” he said, and though he noticed the strange look you were giving him. He tried to ignore it, as well as the way his mouth seemed to go dry. “Uh, I was just wondering…” you began, “Do you think maybe you could help me with some homework? Everyone says you’re the smart guy, so I figured I’d ask.” you said as you rubbed the back of your head and chuckled. Yes, Iida might be strange in some aspects.

But you still looked up to him and though you didn’t know of his feelings toward you, it was no surprise not many understood Iida’s antics. But you somehow found them adorable, even if they were borderline annoying. Tenya’s face seemed to grow darker and for a moment, you wondered if you had said something wrong before his hands shot up. “O-Of course! I uh, would be very happy to assist you with your homework. Uh, perhaps at a later date, however.” he said, the words coming out of his mouth in a choppy and almost panicked manner.

Which wasn’t like him, but maybe he wasn’t feeling well. You had heard that Tenya received special permission to return home for two weeks and you missed his presence in the dorm building. Still, you nodded, “Uh, right...sounds great.” you bowed before walking over to your seat and Tenya’s eyes followed you the whole time. Much like always, his heart was accelerating as fast as his engines. He swallowed and turned to look at Ochako and Midoriya who seemed to be having a conversation of their own.

Tenya cleared his throat once more and walked over to them, Ochako immediately turned her head with a bright smile on her face. “Hi Iida!” she greeted and Midoriya nodded. “I saw you talking to Y/n, he mentioned he wanted to talk to you earlier.” the green-haired boy shared and somehow, Tenya felt his cheeks begin to flush once again. “Ah...yes, well…” he looked away a moment, a tad annoyed that his glasses seemed to be fogging up due to the warmth of his cheeks. He groaned softly and looked back to his friends who seemed confused by his strange actions. 

“Are you okay Iida?” Ochako questioned and Tenya only nodded in response, his hands curling as they hung by his sides. “I...I wish to speak to you about Y/n in private, would it be acceptable to the two of you to meet me after class?” he questioned, holding his breath as Ochako and Midoriya exchanged looks. “Um, sure Iida.” Ochako said before Midoriya spoke, “Is everything alright between you and Y/n?” Tenya couldn’t help but feel nervous at that question and for a moment, he wondered if Midoriya had noticed his strange behavior around you as well.

“I...I’m not quite sure,” Tenya said quietly before turning to walk to his desk. He knew he was being rather ridiculous, but he couldn’t help himself. Time seemed to be going rather slow and Tenya couldn’t resist turning his head to look at you throughout the class, admiring the way you concentrated on your work. It almost made him proud, but he couldn’t tell you that. He was a nervous wreck by the time class ended and Ochako, Midoriya, and himself promptly left together. “So Iida, what exactly did you want to talk about involving Y/n?” Ochako questioned as she stood behind Tenya in the lunchline.

A tremble ran through him and once more his body went stiff. “I uh...would rather discuss it once we have a seating area,” he replied and Ochako blinked before looking over her shoulder at Midoriya who simply shrugged, Tenya was a hard person to read sometimes and it was best to go along with him rather than try and figure him out. However, once Tenya had gotten his food and chosen a table near the corner of the room. He looked to his friends who seemed more eager to hear what he had to say then what they had to eat.

“Well?” Ochako said, her hands folded into fists. She normally didn’t get involved with gossip but she had a hunch something was going on between Iida and yourself, Midoriya on the other hand tended to be oblivious. Tenya took a deep breath and looked down at his lap. “I...I am not quite sure how to put this…” he began, reaching up to tap his chin as he recalled the earlier conversation with his brother. Would his friends react the same way? Well, there's no way to avoid it now.

“I...I am unsure of how I feel around Y/n.” he began, “I...I get this odd warm feeling, I have shakes and overall, I feel rather nervous. My cheeks seem to flush and I…I do not know what is wrong. I have thoughts about Y/n constantly and they seem to go in the rather...romantic direction. I have tried suggesting it is merely admiration, for what else could it be? But I am afraid...as of late, these emotions. These strange occurrences I feel whenever in Y/n’s presence have only gotten worse.” Midoriya tilted his head, though he was a little confused as this was not what he had expected Iida to say.

Much like Ochako, he already seemed to know what the answer to Iida’s problem was. “Iida...are you sure you haven’t felt this way around anyone else?” Ochako questioned and Tenya jumped in his seat before turning to look at her, reaching up to push his glasses back up. “Well...of course not! I have thought it over very well, no one else had caused such a reaction in me,” he explained before Ochako threw out another question. “Not even a girl?” Tenya tilted his head, “I have never felt whatever this is around a female, no.” Ochako chuckled, it was so obvious.

“What are you chuckling at!? I demand an explanation! Tensei acted in a similar manner, so tell me!” Tenya demanded as he rose from his seat, his hand chopping through the air. Midoriya felt his own cheeks flush before reaching up to rub the back of his head. “Uh...Iida...have you thought it’s because you have a crush on Y/n?” he questioned before holding his hands up in a panic. “I mean not that there’s anything wrong with that! Uh, whoever you like is fine!” The last thing he wanted was Iida to be angry with him, luckily Ochako spoke up.

“That’s right!” she said as she nodded, “There’s nothing wrong with liking a boy or girl! Y/n is pretty handsome too! I know the girls in our class talk about him a lot too! I’m sure if you told him how you felt, he’d understand.” she suggested, however, Tenya seemed frozen. Crush? He blinked and lowered his hand before falling back into his seat. Could it be possible? He had tried to come up with a logical reason as to why he felt the way he did, but was love ever logical in any way? Could it be that...he tilted his head up. “Are you suggesting I’m...gay?” he questioned and Ochako shrugged while Midoriya decided to keep quiet.

“Does it matter if you are or not? I mean I’ve always thought you liked guys but that’s just my opinion.” she said before sighing, “Either way, you should just tell Y/n how you feel. The sooner you get it off your chest the better, come on Midoriya.” she said before grabbing the young boy’s hand and dragging him off his seat. Midoriya cried out and struggled to keep up with Ochako. “I think Iida needs some time alone,” she said, not because she disagreed with his choice in who he liked. But if Iida decided to confess to you during this time, it’d be best if they stayed out of any romantic business.

“Gay…” he repeated the word as he tapped his chin, feeling an odd sense of calm come over him. He had never thought much of girls, to begin with, and despite his brother being the one hero he admired more than anyone. He had always seemed to favor males over females and failed to see the reason why feminine heroes were always looked at as well, attractive. Why exposing the female parts of the body were so enthralling. Whenever he happened to see a shirtless man, his eyes would trace over their body but did that necessarily mean he was gay? Perhaps it didn’t matter, he swallowed down his nerves and rose from the table. “I must tell Y/n.” he decided, though this might be the hardest confession he ever had to face.

[n7inky-fanfics]

One Day at a Time

The destruction of the Reapers did not mean galactic peace. While the treaties Shepard had brokered during the war remain mostly intact, there is no shortage of pirates, criminals, gangs, and terroristic organizations bent on creating chaos and destruction. The Council began directing their Spectres towards overseeing and protecting reconstruction efforts and maintaining peace. Now that scientists are close to unlocking the key to repairing the mass relays, the galaxy has settled into unease. No one knows if crime will get better or worse with the relays back online. All factions are getting agitated, and more fighting is breaking out.

Sometimes, Kaidan pities the poor soul on the wrong end of Shepard's gun. More than once, he has heard all sorts of people shout something along the lines of "Oh shit, it's Shepard!" as they realized they were about to die. Shepard is a skilled soldier who dominates the battlefield with equal parts strength and grace. Fighting alongside her can be almost beautiful in an odd and violent sort of way, especially when she used her biotics. It took her almost a year of practice fighting on her military grade prosthetic leg, but she has now found that grace on the battlefield again. In the end, her skills and her career could not be taken by the Reaper War. The galaxy kept its greatest protector.

Today, they are both back on Mars, of all places, fighting a remnant of Cerberus that is attempting to steal more data from the archives. If intel is correct, their goal is to find weapons they can use "for the betterment of humanity", which is their way of saying anti-alien terrorism. Kaidan does have to admit that some part of him enjoys taking down pieces of Cerberus. After all the horrible things he's seen them do, including all that they have put Shepard through, he's glad to eliminate every last cell in the galaxy. It's a worthy career goal.

As the smoke clears, Shepard begins checking the bodies for data pads, hoping to find anything to indicate how many of them are at the archives and what their exact plans are. After all, if this was just an outdoor lookout team, there's bound to be more already inside. She freezes as she reads one of the data pads. Kaidan can barely see her face through her helmet, but her reaction to the data pad can't be good. "Shepard, what is it?"

She clears her throat and says calmly "It's not pertinent to the mission. Let's move on." She drops the data pad and continues towards the entrance. Kaidan trusts Shepard, but curiosity gets the better of him and he glances down at the data pad as he passes by. It currently displays the owner's profile. He can see an image that he guesses matches the body they found it on and a name. "Andrew Mason".

As they enter the archive, they happily find a distinct lack of civilian and scientist casualties. This time, intel learned of the plan early and decided to evacuate the scientists and ship in more soldiers. Unfortunately, Cerberus still puts up a good fight and many of the Alliance soldiers were injured or killed before the Spectres arrived (travel between systems takes more time now that the relays are gone). Shepard hops on to the nearest terminal and accesses the system logs. "Ah, here it is. Someone opened an archive five minutes ago. We can take the tram there."

"Perfect. Maybe this time we'll make it through without getting shot at." Immediately after making the joke, Kaidan winces at the realization that bringing up their last mission on Mars might not be a good idea. Sure, they've worked everything out, but it still could be a touchy subject. He was pretty cruel to her last time, before he almost died in front of her.

"Doubtful." Shepard laughs lightly as they board the tram.

They ride quietly for a moment before Kaidan asks "So, will I get to know who Andrew Mason is?"

"Maybe later. Now's not the time."

"Fair." Kaidan says. He smiles at her, hoping she can see it through the helmet. His is much more open and visually blocks less of the face. Shepard's preferred gear usually allows less visibility, but it also has fewer structural weak points. He noticed a change in her treatment of her armor not too long after he got back on the Normandy, but he's never said anything. Without asking, he already knows why Shepard chooses armor with the most reinforced environment system, and why she carefully and almost obsessively maintains it. He would, too, in her shoes.

He refocuses himself on the task at hand as they begin approaching their destination. They've almost made it when a Cerberus soldier begins firing at the car. They both take cover behind the wall and the dance begins yet again. As the car docks, Shepard throws up a barrier and runs out, shooting at several men in a row as she charges to cover. Kaidan focuses on the heavy trooper slowly approaching from a distance and Reaves. Together, they feed off each other's energy. The can move in sync, watching each other's sixes and supporting each other throughout the entire battle. Before long, the docking zone falls silent as the battle ends.

They take turns clearing doors until they finally get to the archive. They take cover on either side of the door. He opens it carefully, and Shepard immediately swings around to cover him with her pistol. The immediate entryway is surprisingly empty. Shepard gestures for him to follow, then slowly and quietly moves inside the room until they reach a sharp turn. She takes cover against the wall and peers around the corner, gun at the ready. As soon as she does, she is thrown backwards by a large biotic force. Her gun fires before she even hits the wall. Kaidan swings around and unleashes a singularity that pulls the target into the air. Shepard fires again, making several headshots that eventually pierce the armor and hit their mark.

"Thanks for the cover, Alenko." She says, her smile coming through in the sound of her voice. She pats him on the back and pushes further into the room, where the target had been collecting data onto a drive. She plugs the data into her omnitool and runs it through analysis softwares. Liara would be able to tell them more, but it appears that intel was correct. They had been here for advanced weapons blueprints. Shepard begins forwarding the information back to the Normandy, then turns to head back to the LZ. Kaidan follows her.

Getting back to the Normandy and conferencing with Admiral Hackett is no big deal. After the verbal debriefing, they retire to her cabin to write their mission reports. Kaidan's ship, the SSV London (named for the Battle of London that ended the Reaper War), is still getting it's final touches before he'll be able to take it out on a shakedown run, so he rode along with Shepard for this mission and their last several. As they settle into the couch with their tea and data pads, he can't help but smile. This is a good life, one he hadn't expected to attain. Every day, sometimes several times a day, he still finds himself thankful that they had found Shepard after the Crucible. When the Alliance had formally declared her missing in action, with the caveat that she was most likely dead, Kaidan refused to lay down and wait for them to declare her death. He contacted Hackett with an emergency QEC on the Normandy and told him that until they found a body, Shepard was to be considered alive and in need of assistance. They all owed that to her. Seeing her here and now, living her life with him, is something he is grateful for every day.

As Kaidan is putting the final touches on his report, Shepard sets her data pad on the table and walks to her shower, stripping off articles of clothing as she goes. He fumbles over the keyboard, leaving a line of text that reads "ghdhshgdg" as he watches her go. Knowing that he's watching, she calls "finish your report first, and then you can join me." He deletes the line of typos, hurriedly wraps up the report, and follows her for an enjoyable interlude.

Their activities eventually end with them cuddling in her bed. She lay with her head resting gently on his chest, her hand absentmindedly rubbing circles on through his chest hair. He has one arm around her back and gently brushing strokes down her upper arm. He can feel her back subtly rise and fall with her breath. They lay this way for a while before he feels a slight dampness on his chest, where her head is. "Hazel, are you okay?" he asks, looking down at her. Her face is buried in him. She stifles a sob, and he feels the shift in her breathing as she forces herself to cry silently. He wraps his arms around her tighter. "Sweetheart, whatever it is, I've got you." Slowly, she pulls herself back and looks at him. He reaches up to her and gently wipes the tears from her cheeks. She pulls herself into a sitting position against the headboard, and he follows so that they are sitting side by side.

She leans her head on his shoulder and quietly says "You asked about Andrew Mason?"

"Yeah. Do you want to talk about it?"

"I knew him... from before the Alliance." she ends the sentence at barely a whisper. Her shoulders tense and she looks down at the floor. "He was one of the younger kids in the Reds before I left." He gently reaches for her hand and takes it in his as she continues. "I heard he'd gotten out, that he'd joined the Alliance some time after my death. I had hoped he'd do well and go far, but it didn't work that way. I checked his records when we got back to the ship. His team got ambushed by some pirates about seven months before the Reapers invaded. He was discharged honorably for medical reasons, for PTSD. I guess that's when Cerberus got to him."

"Hazel, I'm so sorry." he says.

"The hell of it is that I can see myself in that kid. In what he came from, in his escape. What if I somehow influenced his decision to leave like that? How many kids joined after hearing fantastical stories about my life, only to be swooped up by Cerberus when the Alliance didn't live up to their expectations or to die in battle before they got the chance to reconsider?"

"Hey, stop that. It's not your fault, Hazel."

"How many people died because of me? Will continue to die because of me? Because I failed?" Her voice cracks and she lets out a shuddering breath.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa. Backup. Failed at what?"

"I couldn't save them all. I can never save them all."

"Hazel, stop. Look at me." He gently places his hand under her chin and guides her to look at him. "You are not responsible for every person in the galaxy. You've spent far too much of your life fighting galactic wars practically on your own. Enough is enough. We stopped the Reapers. Now, we just do what we can to make things a little better. One day at a time, okay?"

She nods and he pulls her into a tight embrace. "One day at a time." She sniffles.

[sooibian]

Stranger Things (2)

Pairing: Baekhyun x fem!Reader ft. Kyungsoo, Mark Lee, Jongdae (if you squint)

Description: You met an obnoxious lawyer at the airport and fell stupidly in “love” but little did you know, his heart belonged to someone else.

Themes: Fluff, crack, stupid OC, Mark Lee’s debut with a law firm, organic cucumbers, cowsheds, corgis, farmer!Soo, lawyer!Baek

A/N: This was not supposed to happen but four people asked for it and that’s really all it takes to get me to do something. I was SO tempted to title this - Of Cowsheds and Corgis!! This fic is ridiculous and very predictable but I gave up on the angst I was writing for this because ridiculous is just what I need right now. I truly hope you’re all safe and healthy!

Word Count: ~ 1.6k

Chapters:  One | Two | Three | Four (Final)

Groaning, you put down your second ‘fruit platter’ with a deliberate clang on Kyungsoo’s bedside table. Nothing. “Yah! Did you catch narcolepsy in that ridiculously mind numbing hamlet?” The skinny end of your chopstick slowly made its way to the sole of his left foot. Still nothing. Panic swelled within you and you crawled over to his side to check his breathing. He was breathing, alright.

“Eomma!” You bellowed. Maybe it was time for the third medley of diced apples and bananas.

Still nothing.

***

“Sloth.” You took a jibe at a barely awake Kyungsoo.

“Creep.”

“Creep?”

“You were watching me sleep!”

“I was waiting for you to wake up! There’s a difference, Snorlax.”

“Patience - -”, his mouth fell open in a huge yawn.

“Isn’t my greatest virtue. Yeah, I know. You’ve said it a million times. It’s etched in my heart. I’ll get it tattooed across my forehead. Now spill.”

For a moment Kyungsoo looked confused before diving into his fruit platter with a half-suppressed snicker. 

“What?” You attacked his stupid bespectacled face with a pillow. When was the last time he got a change of glasses? He’s worn this thick-rimmed atrocity forever. Although the man was optically challenged, his hearing was more than just fine. He was quick to spot the hint of defensiveness in your tone and his heart shaped smile had a reputation of showing up only when you were in deep trouble. “Ahhhhh….my case? The bank is entitled to a lien on the adjoining cowshed - ”

You cut in with a long impatient sigh. “Kyungsoo, sweetie, can we talk about corgis for now?”

“Chubs”, you undid your messy bun at the sound of that horrendous nickname, “you’ve got a bad case of --- honestly whatever this is. You spent two hours with him. Two.”

“Squishy, I’m not three anymore. I am a woman now.” His face contorted into an expression of disgust. “Stop. Calling me. Chubs.” Interjecting every word by striking his shoulder with your feeble wrist, you noticed how ‘un-Squishy’ he’d gotten over the past one year. “And I know all there is to know...about your 174 cm tall friend who struts around like he’s no less than 185. But that’s not him...that’s Handsome Mr. Park, his partner.”

“Stalker!” Kyungsoo’s eyes grew wide in horror and he flicked your forehead very, very hard.

Swallowing your cry of pain, you pinched his ear with all your might, making him wince. “It’s called content curation. If you ever happen to meet a lovelorn village belle ….let me know, yeah? I’m willing to put up my skills to offer. For a fee, of course.”

“YAH!” He freed himself from your grasp. “Behave! You’re not three anymore, right? Tell me...how much do you know about Baekhyun?” He was curious. Slightly panic-struck, even. But you couldn’t tell why.

“I will tell you but I need to know something before that. Has he - Doh Kyungsoo I swear to God I will bury you alive if you so much as smile - has he mentioned me at all?” You felt your face flame and a part of you really did not want to know the answer to that.

Kyungsoo sucked the insides of his cheeks in and said, “He thinks you’re interesting.”

You knew 'interesting', almost always, was nothing but a euphemism for weird. Ignoring the tender ache in your chest you said, "Well, I think he looks a lot like his corgi Mongryong. Mum has invited you to dinner tomorrow. Later, Squish." You pulled him in a bear hug, picked up the two, now polished, plates and walked out of Kyungsoo's room, slowly closing the door behind you.

"Eomma, Kyungsoo will be joining us for dinner -"  

"Chubs, wait!" He hurried out of his room and handed you a rather heavy C4 size envelope. "My dentist appointment has been moved to today and I had to drop these documents off at Byun Park's", after a small pause he hesitantly continued, "he won't be there."

"Who won't be there?" Kyungsoo’s mother eyed the both of you suspiciously.

You couldn’t say no to the illustrious prince of a family who fed you a whole carton of organic fruits a while ago. At least not in front of the matriarch.

"It's nothing Eomma… it's Kyungsoo's friend Byun Baekhyun. Yah! Doh Kyungsoo! Stop acting like he's my ex boyfriend."

***

Your heart raced as you stepped into the elevator of the swanky commercial building. Pushing the button for the 27th floor, you turned around to examine yourself in the mirror feeling frumpy and underdressed in your faded yellow sweater and mom-jeans. The ding of the elevator jolted your heart and your mouth went dry as you lay your eyes on the blond haired man standing in front of you. You wanted nothing more than to snake your arm around Doh Kyungsoo’s neck and put him in a tight chokehold until he begged for mercy -- at this point you weren’t very keen on letting go of the imaginary, gasping for breath, blue in the face, Doh Kyungsoo. He won’t be there??

“Hi”, you said stepping out of the elevator but what you really wanted to say was ‘I want to delete myself’.

“Airport Girl!” He jested. You didn’t feel very apologetic anymore or even underdressed for that matter since the partner of a snooty law firm thought that a long sleeved jersey with bib shorts were an acceptable choice of clothing. Nevertheless, you properly introduced yourself and did what was long overdue.

“I am sorry about the other day and -- ” You briefly waited for him to cut you off with a ‘Don’t worry about it’ or even dismiss it with loud ‘hahaha’ but instead his little eyebrow raise insisted you complete your apology. “And I shouldn’t have - -”

“Airport Girl, I notice you have a problem completing your sentences.” Resting his hands on his hips he cocked his head to the side. That vaguely familiar annoying smirk made your skin crawl.

“Byun Baekhyun-ssi, I am here to see Lee Min Hyung. I am supposed to hand over Kyungsoo’s documents to him. I hope you’re working hard on my friend’s case. He really needs that cowshed back, he’s paid the broker’s fee in full for it. I hope this was coherent enough for you.” His smirk stretched into a genuine smile as he inched closer to you. Uncomfortable as you were standing in an enclosed space and conversing with a man in bib shorts, the diminished distance from his two small strides made you squirm. You could practically smell his cologne.

“I’ll forgive you if you agree to come cycling with me. Right now.”

“Absolutely not. Can I go see Lee Min Hyung now?”

“MARK LEE!” Baekhyun bellowed. The unsparing luminous smile on his face wasn’t doing any favours to the health of your heart. Within seconds, a bespectacled young lad who looked like he hadn’t slept a wink for days came rushing to his side. So Byun Baekhyun worked his employees to the bone while he himself took hiking trips in absurd outfits.

He put an arm around the frail boy and introduced the fresh law graduate to you, “This is my main man Mark Lee from Canada.” Violently thumping Mark’s back he continued, “Madam’s here with Doh Kyungsoo’s documents. Take her inside and go over the file. Check if anything’s missing and most importantly, offer her something cold to drink.” Letting go of Mark, he said to you with a wink, “I’ll be waiting in the lobby, Airport Girl. Or you’re never losing the nickname.”

***

Mark Lee’s involuntary metamorphosis from scaredy cat to ferocious lion cub in the conference room took you by surprise. While going over Kyungsoo’s documents like a hawk focused on its prey, he dutifully put a glass of ice water in front of you just as instructed by Byun Baekhyun. It was nothing more than a courtesy call. “Doh Kyungso-ssi’s personal documents all look okay -- ID card, bank statements, transaction information, realtors invoice, property possession documents.” You lost him at ‘realtor’s invoice’. “Seems to me, the realtor tricked him - - why did he not get due diligence done before investing in property? How could he not notice that the title deed does not extend to the cowshed?” Mark Lee was furious….at you.

“He’s just a simple man with simple dreams who wanted to trade his city existence for a quiet rural homestead and grow organic cucumbers, I guess? Why don’t you give him a call and --”

Mark Lee’s paw met the desk in a loud smack, startling you. “A simple due diligence would’ve saved him the hassle - -”

You weren’t exactly sure of the reason Byun Baekhyun thought you’d need a cold drink but he was so right, everything else seemed wrong. You took a rather large gulp of water, snatched Mark Lee’s notepad from his firm grasp and scribbled Kyungsoo’s number in it. “Here’s Doh Kyungsoo’s number. Call him if you need anything further.” You rose from your chair and eyed him sympathetically. “Take care, Mark Lee and please don’t skip meals.”

***

He waited for you, just as he’d promised. He somehow managed to look just as stunning in that funny costume as he did when you saw him at the airport. “Let’s go. Half an hour with that enthu cutlet Mark Lee and I need to feel the wind in my hair. How do you manage?”

“Yah! Airport Girl. He’s my best and brightest.” Sounding like a proud parent he guided you to the parking lot. The guilt weighing your heart down compelled you to ask, “What about Yoona?”

“She’ll be joining us.” Baekhyun quipped nonchalantly, opening the door to his Audi for you.

It was at that exact moment you said a silent prayer to a certain 3rd generation male idol to strike you with lightning and put you out of your misery.

Tagging: @hirumixoxo @majesticsnow @dreamingofdreamydream @juncottonluvbot

[krisroley]

February 9th, 2021

One Small Moment

Today I want to talk to some specific friends who I won't name, but I'm fairly sure that this will apply to way more of just them.

First things first, I'm not going to insult your intelligence by giving you a bunch of platitudes. In my experience, they're nothing but empty calories. Filler and no substance, they're designed to make the person giving them feel better, not the person who needs help. In some cases, people who need help end up feeling worse. I'm one of those people, so I absolutely understand the feeling. So, no bullshit from me. Cool? Moving on.

Let me describe my lack of bona fides right upfront. I'm a guy with a high school education and one year of college because I let my dick do the thinking up to the point that I ended up homeless and friendless. I tried to follow in my Dad's footsteps and join the military and washed right out after six months because I have a mouth bigger than my brain. I come from a family that describing as dysfunctional is exceedingly generous. My dad had anger issues, my mother was a narcissist manipulator, as is my brother. He's got a criminal record and is probably on his way back to prison for at least 12 years as I write this. I'm the voice of reason in my family, and as I have said repeatedly, this should scare the fuck out of you. I got married at 24, and I had three kids by the age of 30. I've been dirt poor most of that time. At this stage of my life, I believe that I am an undiagnosed case of autism from the 1970s because my kids--all of them--are on the spectrum. I didn't have a bad childhood if you looked at it from one angle, but I had a horrible one if you looked at it from the inside out. I inherited my Dad's anger issues and my mother's narcissism. I was a horrible husband for years until my wife walked out on me in 2005. It made me face myself in a way I had not seen before, and I couldn't take it. I had a nervous breakdown. My wife thought I was worth saving, and I am forever grateful for it. I promised I would work on my issues, and I have. Three times in my life, I thought I was at the end of my rope. Not from a thought of suicide ideation, just that there was nowhere else to turn. No one else to ask for help. No one else I could lean on. Just Roley.

That moment right there is the point. The entire lesson. One small moment when your brain says, "Well, you're really fucked now, aren't you?" There is only one answer to that question, and that answer is yes because if you answer no, you ain't there yet. Trust me on this. You have to answer yes. This is the moment where you're accountable to no one but you, and you cannot lie to yourself. You can TRY. It ain't gonna work. Not for long.

Let's not bullshit ourselves. There is a lot of work in repairing a life that you fucked up on your own. You climb up out of a hole for years before you ever see daylight. I was a shut-in for two years because I thought it better that the world forgets about me. I tried to make a living from home in 2006-2007, but this world we live in hadn't come to pass yet, and I was living a fantasy. It made me feel worse that I couldn't provide for my family, but I could barely function as a human at that point. So I decided to do the only work I was capable of: Working on myself. I read every self-help book and mental health book I could lay my hands on. I dug deep into myself to try to figure out why I was the person I was, how I became that way, and the answer was straightforward. First, I thought I was absolutely normal. My behavior, though abhorrent, was how I was raised. My parents treated each other and us kids horribly, but it wasn't physically abusive save for a couple of times I'll keep to myself. I grew up in the same environment I perpetuated. I was continuing a cycle. Secondly, to accept that fact and to change meant work I wasn't ready to take on. But human psychology is a lot like a car in that regard; you can do the work now, or you can do it later, but it's going to cost you a lot more. In my case, it almost cost me everything. It was the third of those three times that I faced myself in the mirror and heard that voice, and this was the time I said yes.

For two-thirds of my life, my story is a story of failure, of self-hatred, of being a bad example. But from the age of 35 to 50, it's a story of repair and redemption. I'll put my humble path to today up against anyone's and dare them to do the work I've done to heal myself and come out who I am today. I'm still married to the same woman for over 25 years now. I've got three amazing kids who I adore. Up until May of this year, I had what I consider to be a dream job until COVID ate it, but I'm still with the same company, and I'm going to bust whatever amount of ass it takes to get my job back or demonstrate the skills I learned there to someone else who's willing to take me. I have a sense of self-worth and purpose that I've never had before, and I'm not taking being a call center tech support agent for the rest of my life. It is a means to an end, and it is not my life's work. I know what that is. It's helping you in the best way I know how: By being not the example of how to fix it, but from showing you by my example, it CAN BE FIXED that you can go from being a person full of anger and self-loathing and cruel behavior to being a person of kindness and compassion and love for people. That you can go from being a person who has no prospects to a person who can go to a job every day that fulfills them personally and professionally. That you can go from being a person who hasn't got their shit together at all to a person that can get morning to night without falling apart at the seams. This is my road, and my lane, but it's big enough for you, and I want you on this road with me. Some of you are gifted and talented beyond description, but the world doesn't know it yet because you have these problems. I know. I get it. I also see who you are, and the world deserves to see you as well. I had no one else to turn to at that last moment, so I did what I had to do. Myself. I'm asking you to take a walk with me because I don't want you to have to do it on your own. I may not know your way home, but I can get you as far as Anchorhead. You can get transport there to Mos Eisley or wherever you're going.

I had to get one joke in there somehow.

Did Joe Know About This?

On the heels of the news of Joe Budden maybe-kinda-sorta-moving his show to Patreon (which is weird since it looks like it’s being hosted on Libsyn now), Spotify has announced plans for multiple business models for podcasts, possibly to include ad-supported subscriptions and a la carte options. These may be discussed at a live stream event later in February.

Asked if Spotify thought customers would be willing to pay for podcasts, Ek on the earnings call responded that he believed there were several new models that could be explored.

“I think we’re in the early days of seeing the long-term evolvement of how we can monetize audio on the internet. I’ve said this before, but I don’t believe that it’s a one-size-fits-all,” he said. “I believe, in fact, that we will have all business models, and that’s the future for all media companies — that you will have ad-supported subscriptions and à la carte sort of in the same space, of all media companies in the future.”

“And you should definitely expect Spotify to follow that strategy and that pattern,” Ek added, more definitively.

The answer seemed to indicate that Spotify is considering some of the ideas in that recent survey — of getting consumers to pay for some podcasts, instead of accessing them all for free or having them bundled into their music subscription.

I wonder if Budden was aware of this and balked. Would there be a revenue split between Spotify and the creators, and what’s the ratio? Now that I think of it, isn’t that what they’ve been crying about re: Apple?

For more than a year, Spotify has been making noise about Apple’s unchecked power over the App Store, and in March 2019, it filed a complaint against Apple with the European Commission. Spotify claims Apple’s practice of taking 30 percent of an app’s revenue is unjustified, and says the company operates as a monopoly on iOS.

Suddenly, I find this Budden/Spotify deal more intriguing.

Wait, You Can Make Money Doing That?

Julie Miller from Vanity Fair writes about Hollywood coming over to the Pod Side for ‘fun and profit’:

…entertainment types began orbiting the audio space about two years ago in earnest, as the number of Americans listening to podcasts every month headed toward the 100 million it is today. It was also around 2018 that agencies like CAA began incorporating audio deals into their development packages. One insider estimates that many celebrities could get a six-figure guarantee per year, with the biggest actors receiving between $1 million and $3 million to launch an unscripted podcast. Scripted projects offer less up-front money but can be adapted into TV shows, films, books, and so on.

For the record, I am Steve Jobs, “Podcasts are Amateur Hour" Years Old. For years, podcasting was seen as less-than, so when I see stories like this, the little imp of the perverse in the back of my head tosses a bone at every true media elitist who, strangely, has a podcast now..

How About Not Doing That?

Chris Curran over at PES has a question about your thin mouth:

When I’m doing my fine-tuned editing on a podcast episode I use TwistedWave or Sound Forge because they allow me to VERY QUICKLY zoom in, highlight very small things like single mouthclicks, and delete them. 

When I try to make the same kind of edit in a DAW (Reaper and others) it takes forever. 

What say you?

For the most part, my workflow tends to remove mouth clicks, or at the very least minimize them. If they still show up through my noise gate, I highlight and remove them. I can’t say this happens often because I like to make sure I keep some water near me while I’m recording. The single biggest thing you can do to prevent mouth clicks is to keep hydrated. Remember, you can’t fix it in Post if it never happens in the first place.

Shot Of The Day

[yzssie]

FANFIC GONE... GOOD? Pt. 1

Characters: Tom Hiddleston x reader

Chapters: 1/3

Warnings: (College) Teacher x student, smut.

Words: 2.8k

A/N: Ok so I thought of posting this yesterday since we had a birthday boy ❤ But I was out all day so I couldn’t proof-read. I had to split this fanfic in two parts because I wrote over 5k words, Jesus Christ I WAS EXCITED. Therefore, the first chapter has no smut and is just explaining our situation /evil Loki creepy smirk/ Without further ado, action!

*part 3 is out, check Masterlist*

English literature was a course you always loved but surprisingly, things could get even better than you thought.

Your original teacher moved away and the college was obliged to hire someone new since the other teachers were already busy. You weren’t expecting that the nice old lady who made you love literature more than you already did, was going to be replaced with the most handsome male you have ever seen before your eyes.

Mr. Tom Hiddleston. Now, you don’t want to sound desperate but, the truth has to be spoken. The fact that he is an English literature teacher makes him twice as hot as he already is.

The first time you saw him entering the classroom you couldn’t help but stare, and you weren’t the only one. His tall lean figure was graciously walking to his desk. His white shirts, God bless his outfits choices, was perfectly wrapping his burly chest, so you could almost see his delicious abs through the thin material. His long legs were taking slow but long steps, swaying his hips in the most tenacious, yet manly, intimidating style. His pants were molded on his round ass in a way that made your fists clench at the thought of running your fingers along his back muscles, down to his spine and finally grabbing those delectable asscheeks. His eyebrows were furrowed, cheekbones popping out, his strong jawline covered with a trace of a copper beard, and as soon as his shiny blue eyes moved to scan the whole room, his lips broke into a charming smile before as he introduced himself. If his tantalizing face wasn’t enough, his voice was so deep and husky, you swore your lower part trembled in arousal. Studying your professor, instead of studying his actual notes, you observed he has a habit of running his long fingers through his brown curls and of licking his lips when he concentrates on an answer. During the class, he is usually rolling up his sleeves to the elbow, showing up his veiny and muscular arms.

That’s what got you here now, typing silently on your laptop while darting your eyes on the enticing teacher. You have this secret Tumblr blog you’re running, writing smutty content in order to relieve yourself from the sexual frustration you’ve built up all these years while not finding the right time to enter in a relationship. You had a considerable amount of followers who are always excited about every new story you post. You would have never done this at school, but Mr. Hiddleston right here doesn’t help your current state too much and you couldn’t handle yourself. Thoughts flow continuously as he’s teaching his course, your fresh new teacher x student piece of work is extremely appreciated. You are almost in the last row of seats, the row behind you is empty. The perfect place for nobody to pay attention to what you are doing besides your best friend seated next to you, rolling her pen while concentrating on your teacher’s remarks. The third chapter is getting a good start until a little bump in your sides startles you and when you look up at your teacher you find him staring directly at you.

“Miss Y/N, have you been listening to what I was saying?”

Panic envelops your whole mind. Shit, we're talking about Othello, aren’t we? You steal a glance at your best friend’s laptop and read her last phrase. Your answer is more a question than an answer and he narrows his eyes.

“Are you asking me or are you answering me?”

“Answering,” you try to sound more confident but you’re pretty sure he saw your eyes flash to your friend’s notes.

“Indeed we were,” his lips tighten as he glances at the clock. “Please send me your essay on our last analyzed work now and then you’re free,” he tells to the class after throwing another short judging look to your presence.

You admit that you are extremely embarrassed right now, so you quickly close both of your fanfiction and essay and attach the document on your desktop to the email before sending it to Mr. Hiddleston. You get up quickly and mutter a “goodbye” while your friend storms out after you.

“I have told you that you need to get a grip of yourself!” she states while she’s struggling with her bag.

“I know,” you sigh taking a seat on the closest free bench you find. “I love literature and I am usually paying attention, but… look at him!... It’s like… like he’s sculpted by the Gods,” you roll your eyes and your friend chuckles.

“You and every other girl drooling over our literature teacher.”

“I am pretty sure you'd do the same if you didn’t have a boyfriend,” you peer at her as you’re starting your laptop again.

“Your new fanfiction is really good though,” she grins at you and you smirk back.

“That’s why I was a little bit absent. It… gets better if I write it while I have the inspiration in front of me,” you crack your hands before opening your fanfic folder and your breath hitches.

“What?”

“Fuck, fuck fuck fuck fuck, why isn’t it here?” you curse and go back to the desktop to open the document saved there.

“Oh my God,” your whole body freezes as the file named “Document” which was supposed to be the essay was actually the third part of your newest fanfiction. You were in such a hurry that you forgot to rename the fanfiction file and switch to the specific folder for fanfiction. The actual essay file was in your documents folder, where you saved it last night at 4 am. You were too tired to review it and you just lazily saved it as it was, without a name or a specific location. You were actually planning to read it again and make the final touches during class but you were caught up in the fanfic and forgot to do it and then Mr. Hiddleston flustered you and… you’ve just ruined your life.

“Earth to Y/N, what happened?” your friend shakes you and your face contorts in regret.

“I have sent… I… the file… my fanfic….” you were stammering with your words.

“You sent Mr. Hiddleston the fanfic you wrote about him?!” she whispers and you nearly scream at her.

“INSPIRED!” you nearly yelled at her before pausing, “Inspired by him,” your voice lowers and you feel your whole existence crumbling away.

“Shit. Just… send him another email with the right document and tell him that you mistakenly attached a different file.”

Your fingers were shaking on the keyboard while browsing through the Gmail again.

“What if he opens it?”

“I don’t know… write something like “please ignore it?” “

“That’s exactly the wrong thing to say. He might get more curious.”

“Then just send it by saying you got the wrong essay and done.”

“I have to erase that email,” you shudder after you successfully sending the right file.

“Sure, what are you going to do? Break into his office?”

You turn your head at your friend and she frowns.

“No… no no no. Are you crazy? This might get you expelled!”

“The fanfiction itself will get me expelled!”

“Maybe he won’t read it. C’mon, you gave him another file. Why would he bother?”

“Wouldn’t you?”

“I… I guess so. But he’s a teacher.”

“So what, you think teachers have no curiosity?”

“Y/N, breathe, relax. You can’t break in anyways, the cameras will see you. And how are you supposed to open an unlocked door? You may have been watching Supernatural but your bobby pin skills are shit.”

“I can… I can just wait for him to exit his office and quickly get inside and and…”

“Who doesn’t lock their office while they’re out?”

“Even for a bathroom break?” you realize that you sound stupid but right now, you couldn’t allow that man to have that piece of work in his fucking email inbox.

“Let’s say he does. What will happen when you’re seen on camera?”

“Teacher offices don’t have cameras inside.”

“And the hallway one?”

“Do you think they actually pay attention to all of them?”

“I don’t know.”

“In that case… I will enter, delete what I have to delete fast and then get out and wait at the door for him. If someone actually checks the cameras, I can say that I wanted to talk with him and I didn’t find him inside so I left his office and waited.”

“You will enter his fucking office! And stay for like at least two minutes. It only takes a quick glance inside to see that he’s absent!” your friend’s arms raise in the air exasperatedly.

“I’ll just say that I stormed in without thinking and I knocked over something in his office and picked it up to put it back in place and then...”

“You’re stupid,” she finally concludes. “Do not do that,” she stands up and heads for the next class. “Coming?”

I look at her with pleading eyes and she shakes her head. “I’m not getting into this. And neither you are. Now be a good girl and go to your next class without causing trouble.”

You had two different courses from your friend, the optional ones which were split into two groups because of the large number of students who applied for them. Unfortunately, you were in the last group because of your last name’s first letter and your friend was in the first one. You considered it bad luck before, but now you were happy that you would be separated from your friend for 4 hours so you could get away with your idiotic plan.

“Ok,” you mutter and feign to have lost all the interest in whatever mission you planed.

“Good.”

Ok. Breathe. You can do this, somehow.

You lean on the wall, watching from the end of the hallway the door of Mr. Hiddleston's office. Classes already started so it means he has no courses for now. Perfect. It's near lunch break so he might actually get out to grab something while he still has free time. And indeed he does, only that he locks the door. You hide behind the corner as he turns around and heads for somewhere.

Maybe she was right… Who would leave their office door unlocked? Your concentration draws back to Mr. Hiddleston's gracious form entering back into his office, carrying some papers. Damn. This will be harder than you have expected. You really hoped that there's going to be an opening but two hours pass and you're still there. He leaves from the office two more times by the third hour, each time locking the door. When you almost give up, another door cracking sound gets your attention and your teacher leaves his office WITHOUT unlocking the door. Your mouth drops for a few seconds, then run to the room you have been watching. Your heart pounds like crazy when you get in and quickly head for his computer. You click on the Gmail icon and your chest stings. He is not logged in. Why??? A low groan escapes your throat and right at that moment the door flings open, displaying Mr. Hiddleston in full grace. Your eyes widen and hands start to tremble on the desk while he actually doesn’t seem that surprised by your presence.

“You’d better have an extraordinarily believable excuse for this situation Miss Y/N. Or this is going to get a lot worse than it already is.”

Your breath is caught in your throat, chest clenching in panic. You would find this exciting if you were living in your damn fanfiction, but this is real life and the chances of being expelled are now very high.

“I'm… I… Mr. Hiddleston,” your eyes are fixed on his strong gaze, burning holes into your flushed face.

“See Miss Y/N, you're not very subtle at spying someone. And I want to believe you're more than just a cheating student, which I actually doubt it since you have been ranked top of this course for quite some time.”

“I AM SO SORRY. I… I WAS WRITING SOMETHING ELSE DURING TODAY'S CLASS BECAUSE I READ ALL THE NOTES YOU GAVE, NOT JUST THE INTRODUCTION THAT YOU ASSIGNED SO I MADE THE BAD CHOICE TO CONTINUE WORKING ON THAT… SOMETHING ELSE BUT I PANICKED WHEN YOU SAW ME AND INSTEAD OF HOMEWORK I HAVE SENT YOU THE DOCUMENT I WAS WRITING AND IT IS VERY PERSONAL THEREFORE I WANTED TO DELETE IT BEFORE YOU COULD SEE IT!” your voice becomes higher and shaky as you speak.

“And why didn't you just send the correct file afterward?”

“I did but... I was afraid that you might still check the first one.”

Mr. Hiddleston scoffs, “What do you take me for? I have no interest in other than the essay I asked for.”

“I… knew… it.”

“But you still thought it was a good idea to sneak into my office?”

“Just in case you might accidentally…”

“Enough!” his stern voice startles you and you yelp.

“This is a very serious situation. However I do not have time to deal with it now,” his presence moves next to yours and you back up from the desk. He types something, the silence between you two killing you. He motions to move closer and you do so.

“Is this the wrong one?” he points.

You nod, afraid to make another sound which might upset him further. He presses the delete button and you would have enjoyed this accomplishment if it weren’t for the given situation. You want to melt into the ground.

“Now get out!” his tone was calmer this time although you can still sense the annoyance. With your head slightly bowed, you apologize again and storm out the door.

He couldn't just believe his eyes. You actually had the audacity to break into a teacher’s office. Was that wrong document even the real reason? Or was it a lie for some sabotage? His mind was going wild with scenarios, and he couldn't handle himself. Curiosity? At first, he might not have opened both files but after you have just risked getting expelled for some stupid document, he admits that it stirred some curiosity. But now he could cover it up with the fact that he has to make sure this whole situation happened truly because of that personal thing.

He pinches the bridge of his nose and seats on his leather chair, his hand involuntarily retrieving your email from the Bin Folder. He opens it and a single-page story pops out on the computer screen. He scans the writing and can’t figure what exactly that is. It’s a story for sure... with a teacher? At the end of the file, there’s a link and he almost has second thoughts but clicks on it anyways and a Tumblr page opens in his browser. What is he doing? He knows that this kind of site has, different things and here he is: a grown ass adult checking a student personal material. Now, he probably would have stopped if it weren’t for you breaking into his office, so he throws away any guilt and starts reading whatever popped on the site. And then his mouth drops. This is a written fantasy of yours with… a teacher. He shakes his head and closes his eyes for a moment. This is an actually pleasingly written piece of work, though it’s all, adult content. He shifts in his seat, already feeling a little bit turned on by the amazingly details given. However, he’s soon hard enough when he reads the description of the teacher and becomes aware of the similarities between him and the character…He shakes his head, maybe it’s just his imagination, but then, a specific comment catches his attention.

Tumblr user comment: This is so good! Can you tell us which celebrity do you portray as the teacher?

Your comment: Oh! I actually do not have one. I could say I am inspired by someone real /wink/, but can’t reveal more. I don’t want to get kicked out because I daydream of my teacher hahaha

Tumbler user comment: Omg, author has a hot teacher! Keep up with the good work!

You have been writing your sexual fantasies about him, during his own class. He is struck by your boldness and can’t admit this doesn’t thrill him. Of course, he is aware he has a specific presence, students might swoon over him and it was possible that some might even daydream about different scenarios. The fact that you are one of the most down to Earth and most talented students he has ever meet, has some stirring effect to his own self. He would have never imagined this kind of scandalous relationship even if he’s a college teacher for master degree courses and the given situation isn’t exactly illegal or forbidden. He always sees his students as just his students. He groans and closes the page quickly.

This won’t do it. Just erase everything you read from your  mind and act as if this never happened, Tom.

Taglist opened(please mention which one do you want): 

Loki/ Tom Hiddleston taglist: @drakesfiance , @cutiepotpie177 , @brokenthelovely , @ultrailoveharrystylesblog, @mooncrow123 , @heart-shaped-hell

[junjosekaimangalover]

Jason Todd X Singer! Fiancee! Reader - Under The Red Hood Part 1

DC Comics Oneshots And Imagines ~Oneshots *Requests Open *

DC's Batman X Reader

Jason Todd X Singer! Fiancee! Reader - Under The Red Hood Part 1 - * Not A Request * * Slight Smut Warning *

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I don't own the DC Comic Book/TV Shows/Movie series Batman nor do I own any of the characters from the franchise. I just own my writing skills and my very active imagination. I really hope you all enjoy this oneshot I made.

This is a Jason Todd oneshot ( or Jason, 2nd Robin, Red Hood ) and this oneshot takes place during the film: Batman: Under The Red Hood. So if you don't know the story of Jason Todd after he became the 2nd Robin or you haven't seen the movie then SPOILER ALERT: BEWARE!!

If you don't want to be spoiled then don't read this oneshot until you've watched it.

Other than that lovely note, enjoy this oneshot~!

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Your POV:

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( Author's Note: The reader doesn't know that Jason Todd was Robin or Red Hood, nor does she know about Bruce Wayne being Batman. She'll find out though. )

It had been about year since my beloved Jason had passed away and it had taken me by surprise. I couldn't deal with it at first, I barely slept, I barely ate, I barely moved, I barely did anything at all and it badly affected my career and personal life so I had step down from my current job as singer.

Fortunately, I had my friends, family, fans and my deepest and closest friend; Bruce Wayne to help me in my time of need. After a few months had passed after Jason's death, I started to get better little by little and then my music career got back on schedule.

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" Okay, just like that (Y/N___ )! " My photographer, Harold, said to me with a pleasing smile on his face.

" You got it! " I replied back to him while smiling back as I striked another pose.

" Can we get some more smoke up in here, I need my prize singer to look like she's in a mystical place right now! " Harold yelled out in front of the entire crew to get at least one of them to get a smoke machine.

" Hahaha.... " I laughed out loud.

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* 30 minutes later *

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" Okay, that's a wrap people! We'll see all of you lovelies next week for the premiere of the promotion ad. " Harold yelled out while he whipped out his camera and began to scroll through the photos of me. I leaned over his shoulder and watched him scroll through them kinda fast.

" Uh, Harold? "

" Yes, my star model? " He replied without even turning his head towards me.

" I've um noticed that....you haven't deleted any of my photos. " I said.

" Yeah, and? " He replied while still not facing me.

" Well, I've observed you long enough to know that when you are done taking pictures of your models that you go through them and delete the photos you don't like or just doesn't work. However, you haven't deleted any of mine. " I pointed out to him.

" Yeah, because every photo of you is gorgeous so deletion is not necessary for you. " Harold said while approaching the last photo. I blushed a little bit.

" B-But what about this one, I look kind of silly in this don't I? " I pointed towards my face in the photo when I accidentally cracked a smile at the time.

" Oh please darling, silly is the new sexy to me. Besides, you need to be genuine in your photos otherwise the public won't like them. " Harold said reassuring me while turning the camera off.

" Silly is the new sexy? Why do I have a that will somehow catch on and become a thing? " I said while smiling slightly.

" That's because it will! I said it first and what I say and do instantly becomes popular! " Harold said while smiling brightly.

" Right. So Harold, should I have tried to be more sexy in some of those photos? " I asked.

" Tried!? Ha! Sweetheart, you're a natural at it and if you try to become even more sexy then our ovaries would have exploded and we would have passed out on the spot. " Harold places a hand on my shoulder, laughing.

" Awww that's sweet, I bet you say that about all of your models. " I said while looking down at my feet but then both my and Harold's head quickly turned to the left to see one of the staff members scoffing.

" Ha! No he doesn't. You are one of kind (Y/N___), In fact I can't even begin to tell you half of the stuff he says about the other models. " The staff member said while moving one of the lights across the room.

" What!? The clients I get stuck with are nothing but stuck up princess who think that they are all hot stuff because they have somewhat good looks and some little fame added to their resumes! " Harold yelled back and ran after the staff member.

I could only laugh at the sight of this wonderful moment and walk towards to my dressing room so I could change out of my modeling clothes and into my regular clothes.

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* 1 Hour Later *

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I walked through the streets of Gotham and towards my flat. I walked towards my flat door and scrambled through my purse for my keys. I finally found them and unlocked the door, I entered my flat while placing the keys in the key bowl next to the door.

As I close the door, I placed my handbag down onto the couch and my pet dog came running up to me while barking his head off.

( Author's Note: If you're allergic to dogs then switch to cats and if your allergic to both then pretend whatever animal you want as your pet. )

" Summer? What's the matter boy? " I asked him but he just kept barking like crazy.

( Another Author's Note: I chose Summer as the pet's name and if you don't like it then you can change it. )

Summer then ran off to my bedroom door and began to scratch and paw at it. I quickly got the knife that was in my handbag and cautiously began to approach the door. I was thinking that maybe someone had broken into my flat despite it being locked earlier.

As I approached the door, I took a hand on the doorknob and quickly opened it and swung the door open. When I looked into my bedroom, I saw nothing. I sighed in relief while thinking that maybe someone did come in but they left just before I got home. I walked over to my bed and sat down on the comfy mattress. I then flung the knife over to my dartboard on the wall.

" I see you still haven't lost your signature touch for the game. " I heard a deep voice and I quickly turned my head to see a masked figure in the corner of my room.

" Aah! Who are you!? What do you want!? And.... " I started and then he hushed me while walking over to me and kneeling down to my level.

" Hush now sweetheart, your love from the past has come back for you. " The man in the red hooded mask said gently and took my hand and brought it to his masked face.

" That's impossible, the only love I had in the past was Jason and he and my love are buried 6 feet underground! " I whipped my hand away and stood up angrily.

" Oh it's so sweet to hear that you haven't moved on from me (Y/N__). " The Red Masked man said.

" What did you just say? " I said in a tone mixed with anger and confusion.

" I said I think it's very sweet to see that you haven't moved on from me. " He replied.

" Moved on from you? What are you even talking about? Do I know you? " I asked now demanding answers.

" Oh well I don't suppose you would recognize me while I'm wearing this. " The masked man then pressed a button on the back of his red hood and I heard a hissing noise and then he dropped his mask onto the ground.

I saw the mask hit the ground and I looked up to see the strange man covered by another mask, it was covering his eyes.

" Well? How about now? " He asked me while getting closer to me, close enough to feel his breath on my face. When I heard his voice out of the mask, it sounded somewhat familiar and calming. I looked more closely at his facial features while trying to place where I might have seen him before.

" Do you mind if I? " I said while placing both of my hands on each side of his head and towards the mask.

" Go right ahead. " He said. I took off his black mask and I quickly dropped the mask and slightly gasped.

Jason, It was my Jason. My beloved fiancee whom I had lost for about a year and who I believed to be dead for the rest of my life.

" J-Jason? " I muttered out his name.

" That's right (Y/N___ ) I'm really happy you didn't move on from me. If you did then I would truly be lost right now. " Jason said while grabbing both of my hands and kneeling in front of me again.

I could only stare at Jason with wide eyes and my mouth hanging open a little while my mind races about 1000 miles per second. My mind filling with questions about Jason and questioning whether or not any of this was real.

About 25 minutes later had passed and Jason was sitting next to me and I was just keeping the silence from being broken. Jason was sitting next to me on the bed and turned his head slightly to me and he had a concerned look on his face.

" (Y/N__)? " Jason said my name to get my attention.

" I'm here! " I replied while looking at him with a blank expression on my face.

" How are you with processing the fact that I'm not dead? You've been quiet for the pass 30 minutes. " Jason then placed a hand on my shoulder as he asked me.

" Oh I'm fine, really. So.....how did you um.....get raised from the dead? " I asked while trying to calm my brain down so I wouldn't freak out.

" By being bathed in a rejuvenating pool of youth. " Jason answered me rather quickly.

" Uh-huh, when did that happen? " I nodded while asking him another question.

" About 3 months after my death. "

" I'm sorry what? "

" What? "

" You were alive 3 months after your death and you didn't bother coming to me or Bruce until now? " I started getting more confused and definitely mad.

" Well, I had to wait to come to you. Bruce on the other hand was a different story. " Jason replied.

" Wait a minute, wait one freaking minute. You went to Bruce first and then you waited all this time to come and see me? While I mourned your death for many months and I was all alone in my home waiting for death to come and get me so I could be with you again, you were alive the ENTIRE time and you didn't even bother coming here to let me know you were alive and okay!? " I yelled at him.

" (Y/N__ )! Please calm down! I couldn't let you see me in the current state I was in at the time! If I did then you would never want to be with me again! " Jason yelled back in defense.

" You're such an idiot Jason! We've been together for 6 years and I cannot believe you still don't know one single thing about me! I would've loved you and wanted to be with you no matter what you looked like. You're so stupid! " I yelled at him again as tears poured down my face.

" I'm....I'm sorry (Y/N___ )... " Jason hung his head in shame with a frown on his face.

" Yeah....well not as sorry as your about to be. " I whispered as I then attacked him with such force that it knocked him down onto the ground.

" What are you doing (Y/N___)!? " Jason asked me in major confusion as watched me pin his wrists with my hands.

" I'm getting my revenge you jerk. " I slapped him and sat on his waist so that he couldn't move.

" What kind of revenge are we talking about? " Jason asked nervously.

" That's for me to know and for you to eventually find out in time. " I said while gripping my hands tighter around his wrists.

" Agh! " Jason grimaced in pain.

" That's exactly how I felt with the months that passed by without you. " I said while my tears continued to fall down my face.

" I'm sorry (Y/N___ ), truly I am. However, It's nice to see you still have the fighting skills I taught you on hand but unfortunately right now is not the time to use them my love. " Jason said while frowning.

" I know but you deserve it. " I replied while trying to not look at him.

" I know and you deserve this. "

Jason then flipped his entire body over and on top of mine and I yelped as my body hit the ground. He then pinned my wrists with his hands and started to kiss my neck down to my collar bone. I moaned out accidentally while closing my eyes, not wanting to look at him.

" Honey, I'm sorry for not coming to you right away when you needed me the most but I'm here now and I'm not going anywhere ever again. I'm here to stay and for you only. " Jason said while placing his lips on top of mine and we kissed so sweetly that I wanted more of him so I dropped my act of revenge and resistance.

" Okay....I'm sorry for hitting you. " I said while kissing his sweet lips over and over again.

" It's alright, you're not the only one who's been hitting me. Bruce was pretty pissed too. " Jason said while unpinning my wrists from his strong hands.

" Has he? " I said in the midst of out kiss while wrapping my arms aroung Jason's neck.

" Oh yeah but I've handled worse to be honest. " Jason's hands then traveled down from breasts and down to my waist.

" Wow, I've missed you so much Jason. " I moaned out.

" You have no idea how much I've missed you as well, especially with all of those sexy ads of you plastered all over Gotham City. " Jason said and as I pulled away from our kiss to breathe, I blushed.

" You saw those? " I asked.

" Oh yeah, it was hard for me not to come here and make you mine while I was covered in scars. " Jason said rubbing himself against on me. I moaned louder this time.

" Well you should've. " I said while trying to compose myself.

" I know. " He says while rubbing harder.

" We got a lot of catching up to do. " I said while trying to keep my moans in.

" Oh yes we do. " Jason smirked at me.

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Well here is part 1 of my new DC Imagines And Oneshots Series. I hope you've enjoyed it so far.

P.S - Don’t copy/paste and then steal this. This is my work

[ridiculousn3sswrites]

Bitter End

*Platonic Loki x Reader

*Summary: Reader looks back on their friendship with Loki.

*Warnings: Angst

*A/N: So this is neither the new chapter for My Princess nor college fluff, but it’s something I was able to write and helped me face my own feelings about a situation like this. By the way, would y’all be interested in me sharing my Instagram with you guys? Just a thought.

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It was another Saturday night spent alone in your room as you tried to work on anything. You were supposed to write a new chapter for your followers, but the inspiration just seemed to evade you. Your phone lit up with a notification from Instagram, so you decided to just go on there to waste some time while you tried to figure out where you were going with your story. Somehow, instead of going through your feed, you ended up on your own page, looking through your pictures. You laughed as you read through your friends’ comments, their stupid memey comments always making you feel better. It wasn’t until you hit a picture from nearly two years ago that you stopped, the username making your heart ache a little.

Godsgreatesttrickster.

**********

The two of you met in middle school, he was the new kid in your eighth grade class. At first you hadn’t really planned on befriending him, but he was friends with one of your friends, and everything just seemed to fall into place from there. The two of you were into a lot of the same things: the same shows, the same fandoms, the same music, the same type of humor. Once you got past the initial stage of awkwardness you had with everyone you met, you realized just what great friends the two of you could be.

You and Loki became nearly inseparable, even though you both had your own friend groups. The two of you hung out the most often when you were with your mutual friend, and you didn’t really talk to each other out of school, but you still had a great connection. Within a year Loki had become one of your closest friends, and you would even consider him one of your best friends.

Once eighth grade ended, you kind of figured that your friendship would either die out or continue into high school. You didn’t even really know which high school he was going to, but you were kind of okay with that. Sure, you were really good friends, but you’d only been friends for a year so it wasn’t as difficult as it would’ve been if you’d been friends for longer. It wasn’t until a few weeks into summer vacation that Loki messaged you on Kik. That entire summer you two were texting, just talking about anything and everything that popped into your minds. Even though you weren’t seeing each other every day like you did in school, you were probably getting closer to each other than you did during school.

It didn’t take long for you to find out Loki was going to the high school across town instead of the one next to your middle school. You were kind of bummed out about that when you found out, but at least it wasn’t like either of you were actually moving. You’d still be able to see each other on weekends and stuff, just like you were planning since your other best friend was moving to the next town over. You knew that for a good friendship like this, it didn’t really matter if you saw each other every day.

Throughout the year, the two of you kept in touch nearly every day even though you never physically saw each other. On the weekends you’d call for hours at a time on Skype, just happy to sit there as you each scrolled through whatever on your phones. You’d be texting during classes, he’d be telling you how he hated his new school because he didn’t know anyone there. You always talked about him transferring to your high school, but you both knew it probably wouldn’t happen. Even though it was unlikely, just saying it kept your hopes up, and it helped Loki get through his days. With everything that happened during your respective freshmen years, it was never like you went through it alone even if you didn’t have your two best friends there with you.

Near the end of your freshman year it happened. Loki got expelled from his high school. As soon as he was in the principal’s office waiting for his mom to show up, he had already started texting you. You were in Spanish when you got the first text. The entire year he’d been getting bullied by some other guys, and he’d finally reached his tipping point. He didn’t get into a physical fight or anything, but he’d blown up on them during class, and when his teacher tried to stop him, he’d yelled at her too. You didn’t know all the details, only what he’d told you, but you knew it had to be worse than you thought if your normally mild-mannered friend blew up like that.

He’d been freaking out when he talked to you about it, but you tried to calm him down by joking that he could finally transfer to your school if he got kicked out of his. When the news came that he’d officially been expelled, you didn’t know what to think. You were always worried about him, but if he came to your school then you could keep an eye on him and make sure he was okay. Your hopes were crushed about a week later when he found out that he wouldn’t be allowed to transfer to any of the schools in the district. That combined with other issues happening in his family just made the decision for his parents: they were going to move out of state for a fresh start.

When Loki told you he was moving out of state, you felt your heart shatter. He was one of your best friends, and you really couldn’t stand the fact that you wouldn’t be able to see him for who knows how long. What broke your heart even more was that you couldn’t see him on his last day in town, and that was all because your parents dragged you to the Verizon store to figure out what was wrong with your brother’s phone. Your mom felt bad about it later, but that didn’t change the fact that your best friend was now days away and you couldn’t see him one last time.

**********

You clicked on the username, heart breaking further as you saw the dreaded ‘User not found’ message. You already knew that he’d blocked you from his public account because that was the one he used more often, but it still hurt to see that someone you once considered a brother didn’t want you to know anything about his life. You switched over to your professional account, figuring he probably hadn’t blocked you on that one. Sure enough, the profile popped up and you were able to see his posts. His last one had only been a week ago at most.

**********

Throughout high school, the two of you still talked almost every day. The Skype calls started happening less frequently, but they still happened a couple times a month. He still struggled a bit in school; moving after high school already started was a definite change, but he’d been making friends that made it more bearable. You were happy for him, especially since that meant he had other people that could look out for him and be there for him when you couldn’t. 

Though he was having more fun at his new school and was starting to fit in more, he still wanted to come back to your state. He was the one that brought up the idea of both of you trying to get into the same college so you could eventually live together. During one of your Skype calls, you both worked on finding a college that you liked and would be good for what you each thought you wanted to major in. It took a few hours, but you finally found a college you could agree on, both of you excited for the future.

High school was also when you’d started writing and actually posting your stuff online. Loki was one of your biggest supporters, and when you started writing a story with original characters, he was one of the only ones to actually read through it. That encouragement just helped fuel your love for writing, and the two of you collaborated on a few stories so both of you could work on your skills. There were some nights you’d stay up until nearly dawn just to write and talk, and even now you looked back on those nights with fondness.

It wasn’t until your senior year that things kind of started to change. You and Loki still talked a lot, but you noticed he was more hesitant to tell you things that were happening in his life. You kind of figured it was due to the stress of college applications, trying to graduate, and ultimately just stress from life in general. You didn’t blame him, but you also didn’t want him to shut you out completely if he needed someone to be there for him. Even if you weren’t necessarily his first choice anymore, you still couldn’t get over that feeling you’d had since freshman year: you needed to protect him.

Near the end of your senior year, he told you something that you just couldn’t believe. Him and his family were moving back in state, but he was going to be living an hour away. You didn’t care about the distance, even just the possibility of seeing him in person again would be enough. He wouldn’t be back for your graduation, but that was because his school didn’t let out for another few weeks after yours. You tried to figure out if he’d be able to make it to the graduation party, but that was his last day before moving back; and when he was finally back, you’d be on vacation with your family in Spain.

As you were running around, trying to settle things for your graduation party, you watched the livestream for his graduation. Seeing him in his cap and gown, practically beaming as they called his name, made your heart swell in pride. He was in a much better place than he had been for a long time, and you were unbelievably proud of him. You made sure to screenshot him as he walked on the stage, getting his diploma that you knew he worked so hard for. As soon as the ceremony ended, you sent him a text telling him how proud of him you were, and how lucky you felt to call him your best friend.

**********

You scrolled through the pictures, reading his captions. He only had a few posts up, which wasn’t unusual because he tended to delete his older posts. He’d gotten a girlfriend, he was posting best friend appreciation posts about someone else, and you just felt your heart aching as you went through his profile. You were happy that he was doing well, but you still couldn’t help but feel sad about not being part of his life anymore. You knew that people grew apart, but you never imagined it could happen to the two of you. If you were being honest, thinking back on all of the time you’d spent together, being there for each other, and now facing this reality made you want to cry.

**********

If you could really place a time on when things changed, it would be your first year of college. The same year your friendship actually ended. You still tried talking to him, but it fell off like with all of your friends from home. You’d just gotten too busy with everything going on, and Loki didn’t really make the effort to reach out to you either. You checked in on him every now and then, but it just wasn’t the same.

It wasn’t until Thanksgiving that you’d actually properly talked to him again. One of your friends had started a ‘22 Things I’m Thankful For’ thing in her story, and you decided that would be fun so you did it too. You tagged Loki in it as one of the things you were thankful for, and that was when he messaged you. The two of you talked for a long time after that, and you agreed to Skype after you were both back from your Thanksgiving dinners. That night the two of you talked for hours just like you did during high school, and things felt right. 

After Thanksgiving, the two of you talked more often than you had during the first part of the semester. You called a couple times, and it felt like things were going back to normal. As time went on, though, things fell off again. It was during spring semester that you realized he’d removed you from his followers, and when you tried to refollow him, he blocked you. It hurt, but you weren’t going to push him about it. It wasn’t like he was responding to your texts anyways.

**********

You would never fault him for deciding he didn’t want to be your friend anymore, that was his choice who he wanted in his life. There were times that you felt like you needed him, simply because there had been no one that you could trust enough to vent to like you trusted him, but he’d made it clear how things were now. He’d given you six amazing years of friendship, and you were so grateful for that. Sure, sometimes you wondered why he made his decision, but you respected it. You were happy to see your friends grow and get the world (because honestly they deserved the world), even if that meant it was without you. You clicked out of his page, blinking back the tears that threatened to spill over.

The empty feeling would go away eventually, you knew that. Maybe there could be some point in the future that you’d be able to message him and the two of you would reminisce on the good times you’d had. Maybe he’d reach out to you and the two of you would pick up right where you left off like you always seemed to. Maybe neither of those things would happen and you’d just be left with the memories. You made peace with that, and looked back at your laptop. It wasn’t the new chapter that you promised, but you had something to tell your readers now.

**********

Permanent Tag List: @spidey-pal

[maxmiz]

OMFG!!! THANK YOU SO MUCH!! mmm I was wondering if you could elaborate a little bit more in Max story? I LOVE how he is Slytherin's heir

Hey there @dangpanterita​. :D Apologies for answering this so terribly late but my job keeps me incredibly busy. Let me elaborate on the two stories:

1. Max’s story in my Potter/Beyblade Headcanon

Max’s story is pretty neatly woven into the Potterverse in my head and my headcanon about him being an heir of Slytherin makes perfect sense somehow when it comes to writing a story with an epic twist. We all picture him either as a Ravenclaw (for his obvious brains), as a Hufflepuff (for his nature) or as a Gryffindor because the kid’s got some courage (he sky-dived off a damned plane to save his friends). And don’t get me wrong, I don’t picture him in Slytherin house either. But as an heir of Slytherin? Hell, yes.

I was working on a fanfic on this for some time while I was still at uni a few years back and I developed a sort of story out of it in my head. We all know that Judy is a hell of a scientist and there’s plenty of evidence in canon to show that she’s extremely shrewd, proud and ambitious - all of which are qualities of a Slytherin through and through. I’m not saying she’s evil though - but she definitely is as much of a morally grey character in my headcanon as she is in actual canon (especially in season 1 where she is undeniably cold to her son for no good reason).

I primarily imagine Judy as the Minister for Magic in my headcanon. A cold but somewhat level headed witch who is pure-blooded,extremely gifted, headstrong and ambitious. She is for the most part motivated only by her instinct for self preservation (arguably a trait of someone who would be a pure Slytherin heir), but she has a soft corner for her half blood son, Max. That is the only thing in the world that made her break away from her family. She abandoned her Slytherin crazed family to protect her son, and severed all ties with her Slytherin roots to move up in the world and become Minister.

So how was Max born at all if she was a typical Muggle resenting Slytherin?

My headcanon is that Taro, Max’s dad, is a Muggle. That Judy, as a teenager, faced a lot of abuse in her household from her father for not channeling her gifts to terrorize Muggle-borns. She runs away one day, drinks a hell of a lot of firewhiskey,meets a teenaged Muggle Taro at a Muggle bar and ends up pregnant. Once she and Taro both sober up, she feels utterly disgusted that she slept with a Muggle. She tries to abort the child, but cannot. Since childhood she’s been wearing her dead mother’s pendant of Genbu (a gift from her father to her mother) and somehow Genbu casts a protective spell around her unborn foetus to ensure the continuity of Slytherin’s bloodline. She feels helpless because she neither wants the child nor does she have the choice to abort it. She feels cursed and knows that her father will kill her child if he knows he’s a half blood. She flees pregnant to the US and with whatever money she had run away with, she joins Ilvermony to complete her final year of education.

She realises, however, that she can’t continue into the next chapter of her life with Max. She wanted to be Minister for Magic and had no interest in being a mother. Also if  her father finds Max, he’ll kill him. But she did love Max. She couldn’t exactly abandon him.

So she reluctantly leaves him with Taro to raise the boy and deletes any permanent records of her being Max’s mother. She gives Max the pendant of Genbu and moves on. Once in every few months she would visit her son, but all of that would happen in secret. Max and Taro knew that Judy was his mother, but the world has no idea.

Max often grew up wondering if his mom is so distant to protect him or if it’s only a facade for her not wanting to raise a child. He often feels conflicted by it (much like in canon).

What is the role of Genbu here?

Genbu, as I mentioned in the earlier headcanon (in the Japanese version of beyblade, Max’s bit beast is called Genbu), is traditionally represented as both a tortoise and a serpent. You can look it up. And that’s where the heir of Slytherin theory finds more support. This is Genbu (source: Wikipedia):

Max was always aware of the fact that the locket that he wore was the locket of Slytherin. He was aware of his heritage because he would often only accidentally be able to control ocean waves, but also speak to snakes before he went to Hogwarts. And of course, Judy told him why he could never reveal who he was.

And truly, because of everything he knew, he begged the sorting hat to not sort him into Slytherin. Eventually he gets sorted into Ravenclaw much to his relief.

Genbu is nothing more than the spirit of Salazar Slytherin trapped in a pendant which gives the heir of Slytherin wearing it the power to harness the same powers as him if ever the Slytherin bloodline is threatened. It can also mess with the head of the wearer.

In my headcanon, ultimately Max fights the spirit from messing with his head and tames it to become who he is. A powerful wizard who controls the element of water and controls serpents.

Max’s personality

In my headcanon, I’ve tried to bring out a darker side of Max. His personality is still the same of course, he’s funny, kind and has a heart of gold. But there’s an inherent darkness inside him. Let’s look at canon for a second. Max never loses his cool. But the few times that he did lose his cool in canon, he channeled his rage into his beyblading to epic proportions. With others, the rage is pretty standard. But when Max would snap, he’d snap big time. When his pride is hurt, he hits back big time.

The guy is smart as hell (calculating angles and saving a puppy with a beyblade requires some brains and skills) which is why he is in Ravenclaw in my story. But, he has all the makings of an heir of Slytherin whose dark side remains buried mostly because the Muggle born blood from Taro’s side keeps him grounded and kind.

Let’s not forget, in my headcanon he’s been raised mostly by Taro. So the kindness is natural. But deep down, he’s every bit his mother’s son too. So I have headcanons about Max having a dark side - a manifestation of his inner Slytherin.

2. Brooklyn’s story in Potter/Beyblade Headcanon

To answer your question, yes, I do picture Brooklyn as Credence to a certain extent. I never actually got to formulating his part of the story in my head but here’s how I imagine it going.

We don’t know a lot about Credence as such. We do know that he is a pure blooded wizard who was raised by an abusive Muggle and developed into an obscurial who somehow survived into adulthood. We also know that he’s extremely powerful, had faced a lot of childhood abuse and had grown up feeling different and alone. And of course, that he was manipulated and used by Grindelwald.

Now let us look at Brooklyn in canon. Brooklyn is also an exceptional wizard. He’s brilliant, a loner and if we look at the very last episode of beyblade, he’s grown up extremely lonely and friendless. He was always different from everyone else, gifted. He has an immense amount of power, is not inherently evil by any stretch of imagination. But judging by canon, it is obvious that Brooklyn has some degree of PTSD and probably had faced tremendous bullying or some form of abuse as child. When Brooklyn is in a mad rage, he assumes this dark uncontrollable form. Also, when BEGA was formed, Beyblade’s key antagonist, Boris (I’m using the English dub name) used Brooklyn and his mad rage and pushed him over the edge.

THIS IS ALL VERY CREDENCE AND GRINDELWALD.

So here’s my headcanon for Brooklyn. Brooklyn was a gifted powerful wizard who never went to Hogwarts. He had a lot of hidden magical talent that he dared not express because the Muggles who raised him were abusive and tried to make him repress it. And he is also an obscurial. I headcanon that Brooklyn’s bit beast is like some physical manifestation of his obscurial form and Boris, for the sake of his personal gains pushes Brooklyn over the age to use his obscurial powers to wreak havoc.

Okay so that’s as much elaboration as I could manage on my headcanons.

Thanks for the question!

[amyscascadingtabs]

please don’t say I’m going alone

He hates the Universe because he has a single hour left of hugging a girlfriend who is now asleep by pure post-crying exhaustion, an hour left of trying to memorize every little detail about her. He hates the Universe because there's only a month left until their one year anniversary and now they won’t get to celebrate it together, because she just spent all too much time away from him undercover in prison in Texas and now they're being separated again, because her face is puffy and pink from crying and he thinks his might be as well.

Or, what went through Jake’s head before he said goodbye to Amy for Florida.

This was actually kind of a semi-prompt from @alwaysandbeyond who wondered aloud in the tags why Jake chose the selfie of Amy he has with him in Florida and prison and said that someone should write a fic about it. Truth be told I’ve always been curious about this so I… wrote the fic. Hope you like it and apologies in advance for the feels

read on ao3

Jake has two hours before the first of four cars that will take him and Holt to witness protection in Florida arrives. He spends them both at Amy’s apartment. There’s no use in packing if he’s not allowed to bring anything with him; no use in anything but hugging his girlfriend so tight he fears he is squeezing her small frame to pieces, all while telling her repeatedly he loves her and won’t forget about her. Not a great promise, considering he has the memory of a goldfish. But he remembers emotions. He remembers anything that caused a strong emotional response at the time or still does. So yes, he’ll remember the woman who has made him feel love in all its different kinds - from aching, unrequited infatuation to the effortless and tender-hearted commitment they’ve reached after almost a year. He’ll remember the fierce but quirky, competitive but lovable detective who just told him she loves him so much and wants to move in with him until he’s old and gray-haired and rotting away in a retirement home in Coral Palms. “They’ll get you out of Witsec”, Amy keeps on repeating for their first ten minutes of their two last hours together, while Jake can’t stop imagining the nightmare scenarios of never getting home again. “We’ll get you out. We’ll catch Figgis. You’ll come home. You have to come home.” He agrees with her. Both of them know nothing's for sure and maybe they really will never see each other again, but last hours are better spent pretending than accepting brutal realities. There will be plenty of time to do so in Florida, he assumes. Amy cries. Long, heaving sobs shake through her body and her tears dampen his t-shirt when she’s pressed tight against him, the two of them together on her bed for the last time in a long while. He tries not to think about how her bed would have been their bed someday soon if Figgis hadn’t called when he did. We should move in together. Haha, said the Universe. Very funny. Jake officially hates the Universe. He hates the Universe because he has a single hour left of hugging a girlfriend who is now asleep by pure post-crying exhaustion, an hour left of trying to memorize every little detail about her. He hates the Universe because there's only a month left until their one year anniversary and now they won’t get to celebrate it together, because she just spent all too much time away from him undercover in prison in Texas and now they're being separated again, because her face is puffy and pink from crying and he thinks his might be as well. He knows he won’t forget her, but he also knows he cannot possibly remember everything, because there's so much to notice about Amy Santiago he’s discovering new things every single day. Some days it’s the cutest constellation of moles at the small of her back, some days a brand new meal she can actually cook without burning the kitchen down or poisoning them both, and one day she even tells him the back-story about a tiny dot in white ink on the foot; a relic from one of the few times she got drunk at a college party and wanted to know what getting tattooed felt like. Other days he discovers how the shape of her eyebrows change marginally sometimes because she claims it’s impossible to fill them in exactly the same every day, or how the sparkling gleam in her eyes when he tells her he loves her is different from the one she gets when she’s really excited over a case, but not all too different from when she’s truly engaged in re-reading the Harry Potter novels for the umpteenth time. (Jake’s not yet sure if he should take it as an insult or a compliment to mean roughly as much to her as he’s discovered those seven books do. From the amount of Ravenclaw or Hogwarts-stamped paraphernalia he keeps finding in various places over her apartment, he’s hoping for the latter.) No photograph could capture the all-consuming focus in her expression when she watches Jeopardy or how melodious her laugh sounds when it's untamed and authentic. Her quick-witted comebacks or the adorable way she scrunches her nose when Hitchcock says something distasteful couldn’t ever be framed into a picture, no matter how skilled the photographer. He knows he’d find every single one perfect, but they still wouldn't capture enough. Maybe he should follow the orders someone gave him and abstain from bringing anything personal to Florida. On the other hand, maybe it could be helpful to have something physical there to ground him. Something to look at to know she’s real and exists somewhere out there, something to remind him she’s more than an intricate and hyper-realistic daydream, might help during all the months and maybe even years he’ll be stranded without her. It’ll have to be a photograph. A picture won’t capture any of her intelligence or humor, but there’s a chance it could capture a sliver of the ethereal beauty she is and right now a chance of a sliver is all he needs. The question is simply which one. He has a ton of pictures of her in uniform or with other members of the squad, all unusable. A picture of her at work would be too difficult to explain should someone see it. No cop pictures. There are even more dorky selfies of the two of them together, making funny faces or even trying to hold the camera up and kiss at the same time, but right now only seeing them so free and happily unknowing is an all too painful sting. And a picture of him with a girl would be even yet more suspicious if he got caught; there’d be no way for him to deny ever knowing the woman in the picture and he’d be screwed. No couple pictures. It doesn't leave him with much. For a moment he’s scared no picture on his phone lives up the necessary requirements, until he swipes far enough to reach a collection of shots he’s nearly forgotten. The pictures are from approximately two months into their relationship, back when everything was still new and a little intimidating. They’re taken in his apartment, and if he closes his eyes, he remembers the moment clear as day. ~ nine months earlier “There are so many Die Hard pictures in your camera roll. Honestly, Jake - aren’t some of these identical?” Amy’s on his couch, taking up most of the space with her head on one armrest and her feet in his lap. They’re looking through each other’s phones for some trivial reason mostly to do with boredom; it began with Jake needing help to spot spelling errors in a text, and now they’re having too much fun looking at pictures in the other person’s gallery to stop. “I don’t know that for sure and I’m not deleting any of them until I have proof!” He tickles her left foot with his free hand, the corners of his mouth twitching when it makes her giggle.  “And you have way too many pictures of laminated documents to get to tease me about Die Hard.” “I’m confident I could prove some of these are the same. And lam' jobs are important! I have a blog!” “And I follow said blog! Because I’m an awesome supportive boyfriend!” “Then where are all the pictures on your phone of me, huh? The ones you show your college buddies when you’re having a beer together and bragging about the attractiveness of whatever girl you’re hooking up with?” He can tell she’s trying to fake seriousness, but she keeps interrupting herself with fits of laughter. “Isn’t that what all white heterosexual cis men do when they meet up?” “Amy Santiago, how dare you assume I’m straight?” He’s the one laughing now, his grin growing wider from the sight of hers. “And I have plenty of pictures of you. I think. I had to delete some because I was running out of space for Die Hard stills.” “Maybe I should solve the issue. I’m deleting all the Die Hard stills I know you have doubles of and replacing them with selfies.” “Real mature, Ames.” His eyes light up when an idea hits him. “Ooohh, wait - will there be selfies of you in just a bra? Without one?” “Yeah, I’m the immature one of us two right now”, she scoffs, but the smile on her lips lets him know she’s not really mad. “And no, there won't, because I’m classy. And afraid of you leaving your phone on your desk and Charles somehow finding them.” “You know he’d just be ecstatic I had them.” “That makes it worse. Now, I need to get to work.” She sits up straight and holds out the phone a little bit in front of her so it captures part of the wall behind her as well. “This is serious business.” Jake lets the camera click once, twice, before he dives forward and into the frame. The sudden impact of his weight against her makes Amy fall to the side, and the next few shots come out blurry as he attacks her with a little sloppy but mostly playful kisses. “You’re ruining the pictures”, she whines. “Nah, I’m making them better”, he claims then and puts the camera app on timer before pressing another kiss to her lips. “Now I can show my hypothetical college buddies pictures of me kissing you, so they’ll know you’re for real.” “That would be an issue?” “Oh yeah, they would never believe I was actually dating you. You’re way too pretty.” He swipes through the collection of pictures of them kissing they’ve taken now, showing her the few of them that turned out reasonably sharp. “You’re way too pretty!” “You’re prettier.” “No, you are - oh god, we really are that horrible lovey-dovey couple everyone hated in high school, aren’t we?” Amy hides her face in her hands. “What have we even become?” “Doesn’t matter, because these pictures are hella adorable. I won’t even delete them for more Die Hard stills.” ~ He desperately wants to take one of those cheesy pictures with him to Florida. Even in the less sharp ones, it’s evident to anyone with a functioning pair of eyes how happy they are, and it makes Jake curse silently when he remembers that happiness is being taken from them now, picked up and dumped right into a coursing river of destruction by Figgis. (He should’ve just become an accountant or something equally mind-numbing because at least then he would never have to leave her.) But a picture of the two of them together is too risky and too revealing of his past, so he options for the second best thing - one of the few selfies Amy captured before he joined her. She looks considerably more serious in this picture than in the next one, her lips more a shy smirk than the wide grin she has in the pictures with him, but she looks gorgeous enough for him to want to look at it forever. More importantly, it’s a reminder the next pictures exist. It’s a fragment of a memory of better times, and it’s all he’s brave enough to bring. There’s a buzz from the Bluetooth printer on the desk in Amy’s bedroom as the picture begins to print. Her head shifts a little from where it’s resting on his chest, startled by the sudden noise, and he very nearly starts crying again, because in fifty minutes he’ll be separated from her with nothing more to keep than the selfie he already knows he’ll be staring at until he’s memorized every inch. He’s not going to forget her.

[createinfinity]

*just throws the whole Mun talks about the Muse list in here for Rokku bc OCs need more love*

mun talks about the muse

first of all, it has to be said that i love lucy okay. you’re the best. i’ll put some of it under a cut because it’s gonna be a lot.

✍ favourite thing about writing the muse?

their empathy and compassion. rokku is confusing and frustrating and nosy and annoying, but they care so much. they have so much emotional intelligence and they love people. their quirk has very little combat application but they somehow make it work, and they’re going to be such a good hero. they’re going to be some kid with a non combat quirk’s favourite hero and they’re going inspire them to be a hero too. despite all their insecurities, rokku is just so inherently good. they’d do anything for the people that they care about, and i love writing a character who contains so much love in such a skinny little noodle body.

👀 favourite thing about the muse’s appearance? 

their eyes. those big old green eyes. they’re so pretty.

🧥 favourite outfit for the muse?

this emoji won’t load, but whatever.

for this i’m not sure? probably one of their ballgowns from the fantasy verse tbh. in terms of canon verse, i suck at dressing people but rokku has impeccable fashion sense so i don’t really know what their day to day wardrobe looks like as a result.

🌌 favourite alternate version of the muse?

fantasy, definitely. fantasy rokku is so much fun to write. they’re quite different to canon rokku, and i love all of those little differences. figuring them out is a lot of fun, but at their core they’re still rokku. they’re still frustrating and energetic and confusing, they’re just better at hiding what they’re really feeling.

plus, they have a tiny dragon that screams. how could i not love that?

💕 favourite ship for the muse? 

i honestly can’t choose. i love all of my rokku ships so much, for different reasons. they all make sense in their different, varying ways, and i just. i love them.

💔 least favourite ship for the muse?

i don’t have one currently on my blog, but honestly the only ships that would be an absolute hard no from the get go would be with adults. i’d be at least open to discussing and/or exploring other ships, even if in the end they don’t work out.

💢 something about the muse that annoys you?

rokku has no sense of boundaries. because their quirk allows them to access anywhere, they just stroll on in to places. they have no concept of why anyone would want to keep something locked away because locks have never stopped them. i know it’d drive me absolutely up the wall. they mean well, though.

😈 worst thing you’ve ever done to your muse? 

there is actually a whole future plot line that involves a pro hero rokku infiltrating a villain ring. their quirk is of value to them, and with their skill at disguise and the fact that their true identity is a closely guarded secret, they’re the best bet the heroes have. unfortunately, the villains have a mole and are well aware that rokku is coming, and rokku ends up being taken hostage and tortured. part of this involves cutting off the ends of all of their fingers, rendering them quirkless.

they get prosthetics - i figure in this future society, fingertip prosthetics would be a feasible thing - and although they still help out on missions where their hacking skills are of value, they actually end up going back to ua to teach. but yes, the worst thing i’ve done to my muse, although i’ve never actually written it, is have them tortured and made quirkless.

😂 funniest thing that’s ever happened to your muse?

hmm. it still makes me giggle to remember that the reason that rokku is able to even fight at all is because they glittered bombed yamikumo - @quirkless-wonder - and so he dragged their scrawny arse to the training field. it was the perfect kind of karma.

💡 what inspires you to write the muse?

rokku is honestly just really fun to write. i initially wanted to play an oc because that’s what i was the most comfortable doing, and i just kind of fell in love with them. i love playing someone with a passive quirk who is still working to be a hero, and exploring the kinds of things they’d be able to do. pro hero rokku is a riot.

📷 favourite picture/screencap of your muse?

this one! i wasn’t able to find the original screencap, since i probably deleted it, but this one has so much rokku energy in it. when i think of them, this is always the first screencap i think of. happy lil noodle.

📑 favourite part of your muse’s backstory?

rokku never really had any friends until they got to ua. they were picked on for being skinny, and being different, and for their quirk. they were told that they’d never be a hero, because how could they. it’s this part of their backstory that gives them all their insecurities, but keeps them determinedly pushing on anyway, because they’re gonna prove all those people wrong if its the last thing they do.

📝 favourite head canon for your muse?

that they ask for, and are granted, exemption from the sports festival.

rokku is well aware of their own limitations, and they know that they’re never going to be the kind of hero that excels at something like the sports festival. it makes a lot more sense for them to not take part, and to keep their identity hidden. as a pro, rokku is a wealth of information - floor plans, villain quirks, access to security cameras - and they know that it will make them a target, so their true identity is very carefully guarded as a result.

aizawa is so impressed with their self awareness and pragmatism that he gets them an internship with the underground hero network, which is where they end up working as a pro.

😒 is there anything canon about your muse that you ignore?

the fact that they aren’t really canon.

🔮 what do you see in your muse’s future?

happiness. so much happiness. happiness and a job as a hero that they love. they work as a comms expert for an underground hero agency, seeing the field as and when they’re needed. their work is one of the very few things in life that rokku takes seriously, as everyone that works with them speaks very highly of them as a result. rokku is an absolute force to be reckoned with - they have a niche, and they are very good at what they do.

🔥 unpopular opinion about your muse?

rokku replacing mineta when?

i kid, i kid. i don’t know if i have any? they’re mine. all my opinions are therefore simultaneously popular and unpopular.

💭 favourite memory of the muse? 

when they were sad as a child, rokku’s parents would make blanket forts. they’d take rokku’s favourite things in with them and they’d feel safe there. they could talk, if they wanted to, or they could not, and it was always with the knowledge that what was said in the blanket fort stayed in the blanket fort and wasn’t discussed outside of it unless it was deemed necessary. rokku remembers them fondly, and at christmas they stayed at the dorms and built one for everyone. when in a relationship, they sometimes do it for their partner(s) when they’re especially sad, too.

😩 hardest thing about writing the muse?

i feel like this is a hard one because…rokku’s my character? if something is hard it’s my own fault. probably their extroversion, though. i am a definite ambivert and i have to remind myself that rokku doesn’t need time to decompress because being with people is what energises them.

⌨ what’s a situation you’ve always wanted to RP with the muse?

i’d love to do more pro hero stuff with them. also just…i’d like to interact with more characters! i think that’s a common problem with ocs. i just want to let rokku love people and be friends with them.

🎭 how similar are you and the muse?

quite. there are definite differences - rokku is an extrovert, i’m an ambivert; rokku wears their emotions on their sleeves and are highly emotionally intelligent, i’ve got the emotional range of a potato; they’re very fashionable, i live in jeans and random t shirts; they’re very good at buying gifts for people, i suck at it. but we’re both excitable and love glitter, and we both care very deeply about our friends. we both can’t cook. we both have terrible sleeping patterns and rely too much on caffeine to keep us going as a result. we both have the best friends we could ever ask for. i think there are more similarities than there are differences, which is why i think it’s generally pretty easy for me to write them.

[yangssunglasses]

Syncope

AN: Fainting Sakura nonsense from Boruto made me write a fic. I’m largely dissatisfied with it and it’s practically an unifinished snippet, but I thought I could share it here before deleting.

Summary: When Sakura’s fainting isn’t funny anymore.

.

Syncope

.

Sasuke's return home went quite differently from what he imagined. He expected a brilliant smile and an overenthusiastic hug from his wife, then a quiet dinner in the company of the two most important women in his life. Instead, the moment Sakura saw him, she passed out cold. He managed to catch her in the nick of time before she hit the floor and hurt herself.

Sasuke hurriedly laid her down on the couch in the living room. He would have been insulted by such a reaction from her if he wasn't so worried. This was unlike the energetic Sakura he'd always known. He kneeled by her side and activated his doujutsu, scanning her chakra just in case, but everything appeared to be normal. Her levels were slightly down as could be only expected after a full day of activity. He brushed the soft pink strands off her face, noting the unhealthy paleness of her skin.

“Does this happen often to her?” Sasuke asked his daughter.

Sarada shrugged. “From time to time. It's nothing serious. She'll wake up in a few minutes like always.”

Sasuke hesitated, but Sarada's calm demeanor convinced him to let the matter drop. If she thought this was nothing out of ordinary, then he'd trust her judgment.

He clasped Sakura's hand in his and caressed her knuckles gently before taking her pulse. The steady beat reassured him.

“Papa, you can go clean up now. We're having salmon for dinner,” Sarada told him. When he hesitated, she sighed with exasperation, putting her hands on her hips. “I told you, Mama's fine. Go on.”

With one last lingering look at Sakura, Sasuke retreated to the bathroom.

Just as Sarada promised, when he returned Sakura was already up and busy with plating their dinner. He watched her for a moment to make sure she was fine.

“Darling!” she exclaimed when she turned. Thankfully, she didn't faint again at the sight of him.

“Need some help?” he asked.

“No, no, I'll take care of this!” she said vehemently. “Go sit down, I'll bring this up right away.”

Sasuke pursed his lips, wanting to argue, but he knew how stubborn she could be. He slowly backed out of the kitchen, keeping an eye on her as discreetly as possible. Sarada still gave him an amused look when he joined her at the table. Despite the years of separation, his daughter saw right through his cool facade.

As their family evening progressed, Sasuke gradually relaxed. Sakura and Sarada filled him in on all the news. Sakura acting like her usual cheery self gave him some peace of mind.

After they all retired for the night, Sasuke went straight to bed, but he didn't sleep yet. He waited up for Sakura patiently. When she finally entered their bedroom with rosy cheeks from the hot bath, he couldn't take his eyes off her. She smiled radiantly and crossed the short distance to the bed, her eyes gleaming with mischief. She crawled in and hovered over him like a playful kitten. Being so close to her without touching was more than a little frustrating, but Sasuke forced himself to remain calm and placid in face of such a temptation.

“Sasuke-kun, are you tired?” she purred.

“I'm not the one who fainted today,” he pointed out.

Sakura's gaze narrowed at the blunt reminder of her little episode and she sat up. “I was just surprised to see you back so suddenly,” she explained. “It was... unexpected.”

“Just like my wife fainting at the sight of me,” he shot back. “It wasn't the welcome I expected.”

He didn't divulge that a lance of fear and guilt had pierced his heart when she'd collapsed, an irrational part of him blaming himself for it as if he was somehow responsible. As if he brought some dark curse with himself that targeted those closest to him.

Sakura groaned and lowered herself, burying her head against his neck, so he wouldn't see her face. His arm automatically curled around her back in a hug.

“Please, don't be unreasonable. You should have sent a message that you were coming back,” she mumbled. Her hot breath on his skin and their closeness distracted him from his dark thoughts.

“Maybe...” he allowed, his mind already on other things. His hand slipped under her nightgown.

Sakura trembled under his touch. So soft, so smooth, so willing. “Ah... Sa-Sasuke-kun...” she moaned his name and the dam broke. He couldn't hold back anymore and neither could she.

Sasuke brought her face up for a searing kiss, then flipped her on her back.

Afterwards, as they laid together among the tousled sheets, both comfortably worn out and dozing off, Sakura gave him a small peck on the lips. Sasuke blinked sleepily at her, wondering what was that for.

Sakura only smiled. “Welcome home,” she whispered. “I didn't get to say it to you properly before.” She cuddled up to him with a happy sigh. “It's good to have you back, Sasuke-kun,” she muttered, her eyes drifting shut.

It's good to be back, he thought contently and fell asleep. The corners of his lips turned up ever so slightly.

.

It was an early morning two days later. Sasuke was stealthily getting dressed for the morning practice. He kept a close eye on Sakura, careful not to wake her up. His efforts were wasted when a loud noise invaded their bedroom through the open window.

Sakura woke up in an instant. She grabbed the alarm clock from the nightstand and squinted at the hour. She gasped.

“I'm going to be late!”

Sasuke stifled a chuckle at her morning antics. The quiet amusement quickly fled him when Sakura leapt out of the bed, then all of a sudden she swayed on her feet, hands going up to cradle her head. She'd have fallen over if he wasn't fast enough to put her in a secure hold.

For a moment, all they could both hear was the sound of their harsh breathing. After a long while Sakura regained her equilibrium.

“Thanks for the save, darling,” she said shakily and pulled out of his grasp.

“What was that?” he asked with a touch of alarm.

“Oh, it's nothing. I just got up too fast and lost my vision for a few seconds there. It happens to many people in the morning,” she explained with a bright, reassuring smile, treating the incident like it was no big deal.

Normally, Sasuke wouldn't question her, she was the medical expert between the two of them after all, but he still vividly remembered her recent fainting spell when he'd come back home.

“Sakura, are you sure-”

“I'm fine!” she cut him off with a smile. “As I said, it's pretty common. I've got low sugar in the morning. I just need to eat breakfast and I'll be back to work in no time!” Her eyes widened comically. “Oh no! I have to hurry!”

Sasuke had to grab her again to explain that she didn't have a shift, because she didn't work on Saturday mornings. He let the fainting matter drop for the time, though he didn't forget about it completely. However, the daily life went on in the Uchiha household, and as the days passed, stretching into weeks without any more similar incidents, he relaxed. Sakura must have had a few off days when he'd initially returned.

Then, one day he came home early, so he decided to start on dinner. Sasuke always enjoyed cooking, but with his two girls around insisting to feed him he never got much of a chance to make anything. He smirked, imagining their surprise when they got home to a warm meal prepared by his truly.

Sasuke put on his wife's apron and got to work, chopping up vegetables skillfully. Even one-handed, he wielded the kitchen knife with an expert skill.

By the time the girls would arrive, the rice was perfectly cooked and Sasuke was putting finishing touches on his creation. He nodded to himself with satisfaction and checked the clock. All that was left for him was to wait for Sakura and Sarada to come home.

Sasuke sat at the table and turned on TV, however when Naruto's face filled the screen, he hurriedly pressed the off button on the remote. He wasn't in the mood to watch another of the Hokage speeches for the general public. With TV out, Sasuke looked for another distraction.

A little speck of ruddy brown on the table's corner drew his attention. He leaned down to inspect the strange mark. Did something spill there?

He looked down and discovered more brownish spots on the floor. He brushed some of the substance off the corner with his thumb and put it up to his eye-level. By the faint smell and texture, he finally realized what it was.

Dried blood.

Sasuke ignored the uneasiness creeping over him. A little blood in the house of three active ninjas wasn't exactly a cause for worry. From the amount and placement of the spots he concluded that someone probably scraped themselves against the table this morning. He'd wager it was a head injury.

There were only two options, Sarada or Sakura, but his gut feeling immediately chose his wife as the most likely culprit. In his mind's eye he could already see her fall, overcome by sudden dizziness, her head glancing off the table's corner and the blood dripping from the fresh cut.

He felt a sting in his Rinnegan. Sasuke rubbed at the eye, still caught up in the very detailed, life-like vision of what could have happened to Sakura, but he didn't get any time to analyze it, because the phone rang.

Sasuke picked it up swiftly. “Uchiha residence.”

“Hello, is- is this Uchiha Sasuke-san?” The feminine voice on the other side was hesitant. He didn't recognize it.

“Speaking,” Sasuke said shortly.

The woman inhaled, preparing herself to say whatever she needed. Sasuke only wished she would hurry up and spit it out.

“Uchiha-san, your wife was just admitted to the hospital. She collapsed in her office and-”

“I'll be there,” he cut her off and put down the receiver with more force than necessary.

He had enough presence of mind left to turn off the stove and take off the apron before heading out. The family dinner was officially cancelled, but he couldn't bring himself to care. All that mattered  was Sakura.

Sakura who collapsed at work. After she had possibly (most likely) fell over just this morning in their living room. He didn't know how or why, he had no proof, but he was convinced that his vision was true. And he hadn't been there to intervene and stop her from going to work. What was she even thinking?

Sasuke clamped down on his emotions before they got the best of him. First he needed to get to the bottom of this. He rushed to the hospital. To Sakura and, hopefully, some answers.

[hereitalkonandon]

I always write something here because at this point it would look naked if I didn’t.

Yeah, of course I can tell you why I blocked you, I just thought that it would make sense coming from me because I've a lot of weird behaviors, and then I clearly don't dislike you so I didn't feel like you would even be curious and the story was long. 

So I have two accounts and both have the same amount of posts more or less, but one is my personal account, it's one year older than the other, no one cares about it but that's the one that I love the most, I use it daily to post whatever I want but I also talk about my life sometimes, I never like anything with it. Then the other account, no one cares about it either but that's the one I use to like things and to follow a lot of people, sometimes I ignore it for months, as in I don't reblog anything, but I often like things. So I was obviously following you with that one.

I would often check your blog and steal a post or two to reblog with the account that I actually love, (I love the other one too but not as much) so I couldn't just reblog them from you because I don't approve of reblogging and reblogging from someone for months but somehow not following them. I don't actually care and I don’t mind if others do it, but I'm aware it might be odd, so I didn't do that with you because I knew I was checking on you.

With other people it doesn't matter, since I know I'm not checking on them, so who cares if I keep mysteriously reblogging and reblogging from them and never actually following them. So, both you and someone else could think the same thing, it would be the same action, but the difference is I didn't care with other people. I was also well aware that you wouldn't notice a thing even if I randomly made those reblogs, but that's how my brain works and it made me uncomfortable.

Then one day when I remembered it was Revenge of the Sith’s anniversary because I had seen it on your blog earlier, for whatever reason I thought I might as well follow you with that account too. But then I realized it was giving me a lot of anxiety, my follows are public, there are dark people out there, you are an attractive woman, you are interesting, cultured, smart, angry, I didn't want the dark people to get the wrong idea, and you wouldn't even notice if I clicked unfollow, it was as easy as that, so why not do it, so I did it.

Back then I loved to go through the Jaime and Cersei tags, you were often there, I actually found you years ago because of it as I've already told you. And I would use my other account to surf the tags, because I would mostly like posts, I don't use my favorite account to like things so it's pointless to surf tags with that one, I only copy the posts I really like and take them to my other account, well, that's now, when I first started I would reblog things nonstop, I still do now sometimes, but I feel them in my soul or something.

There are a lot of posts in both of my Tumblrs that now make me embarrassed or with thoughts that I don't even have anymore, but I refuse to delete them, so I can see how much I've changed even if I've always been the same person, and how I've changed my mind about some things.

You were not going to notice a thing, but I still knew what I was doing and it gave me anxiety, since I unfollowed you with my other account, I felt odd about liking one of your posts with my other account, you had no way to tell I owned both accounts, but I didn't care, that's not how my anxiety works, so I unfollowed you and blocked you, because I didn't want to accidentally like one of your posts while searching the Jaime and Cersei tags, I didn't have to block you with my favorite account because I never looked through the tags with that one so I obviously couldn't accidentally like any of your posts. And yeah it's just that simple and that stupid.

The whole letter was already written but I’m editing it and deleting things were I repeat myself and such, but I actually accidentally fell asleep for some hours right now after editing this part, so this letter will probably have a lot of dumb things that I won’t notice because I am so tired so I understand what you meant at the end of your letter.

At one point I even followed Victor because even if I didn't care for him I often found posts about trees and dumb stuff on his blog that I would steal and reblog from someone else, I was already checking on him because of you anyway. We were so different and I found him so boring, but I think I always found way more posts from him than from you, since I find you interesting as a person but I rarely personally like a post from you by itself, I do, but not as often as with his blog.

Of course he reblogged a lot of tacky things like Justin Bieber and dumb comedies. In this case, I wasn't reblogging them from someone else because I cared about Victor's opinion, it was precisely because I didn't want him to somehow think that I cared about what he was up to. Sort of, but only when it involved you.

Even if I didn't have anything against him either other than finding him dull as a person. I'm sure that even straight men have approached him because of his looks even if they obviously aren't attracted to him, his looks meant nothing to me, it offended me that he could think I found him interesting, what was there to find interesting other than that.

But once I followed him it didn't matter, I obviously kept reblogging from him because I was following him, and that would make sense to him. Maybe it didn't, because this one time he tagged me in some thing with some questions for people you would like to know better, since I had been reblogging a lot of trees and whatever from him I guess, he didn't say so, but I could imagine that was the reason.

I think one time I even reblogged this picture of a bowl of cereal that he was about to have in the bathtub or something, felt like something I would do, probably most people would eat like that. Perhaps he got the wrong idea because I reblogged a lot from him and he thought I was socializing, whatever it was I answered him because I hate being rude. I never ignore people when they talk to me, even if someone is insulting me I answer their insult, not because I care about being polite once they were rude, but because I’m just not into ignoring people, they are talking to me, why shouldn’t I answer.

I sent it as a personal message instead of as an ask because it was too long, and for some reason I also didn’t want to post the questions on my blog. You know how I love to talk and talk and talk so it was a single message but I hit the limit. He didn't never even bothered to tell me he read it, I was glad, I didn't actually want to talk to him. I probably didn't even want to talk to you back then, I found you interesting, but I'm never lonely and I didn't feel like I had anything to say that could interest you.

Ever since I joined Tumblr I would sometimes spend days reblogging a lot of things from someone, a lot of old posts and stuff, and they never thought anything of it, I was obviously just interested in their random pictures. Not that I know what he actually thought when I did it to him, but he is the only person to ever tag me or send me anything at all after doing something like that, other than a really nice woman from three years ago or so.

She just said hi and such and I talked a lot like I always do and overshared, she seemed to have a lot of anxiety too from stuff I saw on her blog and she told me she had been extremely depressed for years and for no reason I think, a mental illness probably even if she didn’t tell. She actually managed to talk like a normal person and was likely used to talking to everyone, so I think she either found me boring or was uncomfortable too and didn’t know how to handle me because I was uncomfortable myself and I kept justifying the way that I talked and clearly had no social skills.

So we exchanged some words for a day or two but she didn’t keep talking, then she sort of said hi once again months after that because I reblogged Halloween pictures nonstop and it was nowhere near Halloween, not from her but she was following me so she saw, 18 pages of Halloween pictures in a row I think, just like the first time we didn’t keep talking. And then she sent me some ask a year or so after that after being wrong about one of my posts about some stuff happening in real life and she thought it was online and was trying to be helpful and telling me I could report people on Tumblr, so I just told her that it wasn’t like that but thanked her and stuff.

You are the only case where I took the time because of the person and not the random pictures. But I unfollowed him after a month or three (by then I had already unfollowed you or maybe I hadn’t followed you with that account yet, I just remember I wasn’t following you at the same time) because he reblogged a picture of a white shirt that said "Killer", written with a Sharpie, it was from this one idiot that murdered a lot of teenagers and said, at his trial, while wearing it, something like "this hand that killed your children now masturbates at the memory of their deaths" in front of the parents of course.

I obviously hated that murderer, it somehow made me angry that Victor would be stupid enough to just reblog something like that without researching, I don't think he would have had reblogged it if he had known, so whatever, I clicked unfollow.

I kept checking on him sometimes, but because of you. Then you broke up and I kept checking for a while, but by then I actually had something against him, I don't care if he is a good person, I know he is, but I have contempt for all men that wish that stuff to women they claimed to love at some point. So I was so angry whenever I visited him and once I realized it was really over and that you didn't have anything to do with him, or that maybe you did elsewhere even if not romantically but it wouldn't show on his blog, I stopped visiting.

He is nothing to me so I'm obviously not carrying some grudge still, but I dislike him because of the way he spoke of you, as I would dislike any man that does that, as I've said. And I repeat that yes I did insult my ex-girlfriend but that was also the way that we talked to each other when we were together, and not like he did, I never wished her ill, that was the last thing I wanted for her.

This reminds me that another thing I hate is when a man was always respectful of his girlfriend and never used bad words with her but as soon as they break up he starts treating her differently and being extremely disrespectful. I was also disrespectful towards her during our relationship and she was like that towards me too. But I mean when men do that exclusively after the break up, to me it says “I don’t bother to respect you because I can no longer gain anything from you, I don’t make any effort because I won’t get anything out of it.”

So yeah, while he no longer makes me angry, my idea of him has been tarnished forever, but it doesn't matter if I’m being unfair because I never think of him if I'm not writing to you, and he doesn't need me, so it's okay if that's the idea I want to keep. But I truly hope he grows up anyway, I have no reason to wish he keeps behaving like that towards women when he breaks up with them, both for him and for the women. So, may he rest in peace. Also, I saw some anon you received at some point asking if you still thought of your ex, and they probably meant Victor, but I didn't send it.

No, I didn't find the poem because of my ex-girlfriend, I would love to read poetry if I didn't find most of it cheesy, but I always do, so I'm too lazy to look for poetry hoping that I will enjoy a poem or two, just as I’m lazy with movies when it comes to characters not having enough depth because of the duration of the average movie.

I found it because I had seen the quote "I see you in colors that don't exist" plenty of times, so when it started to remind me of you I wanted to see where it came from, if it was just a single quote, and sadly it was from a love poem (I was surprised when I saw that it barely had any comments since the quote was already so famous), so I felt that I couldn't send that line to you, I felt like sending an explanation along with the quote would be dumb, I ended up doing that eventually anyway.

That's probably why I memorized a fictional meaning, so much, that yesterday I thought that was actually what the poem was about even when I didn’t remember a thing about it, now I remember that back then I thought that from a stranger's point of view, if you sent her that quote, the poem was about your imaginary relationship with her and how painful it was even if I already knew that it was probably about a relationship that had actually happened but now the other person had moved on, it likely reminded me of my ex-girlfriend but I was also mostly convinced that she still loved me so I didn't relate to it. I found some parts of the poem cheesy, that's why I didn't care for it and forgot all about it but that one quote. I don't care about most poems. I love the idea of them but there's always something cheesy. I find most things cheesy too.

I was embarrassed, I am embarrassed when it comes to sharing good feelings, I can talk about romantic love forever and my positive feelings when it comes to that, it doesn't make me embarrassed, but most positive feelings that have nothing to do with romance or animals do.

The thing about the wall sound so like me, I didn't remember it but I do now that you have mentioned it. It was good then, there was violence. I don't use violence for that though, it's just a part of who I am and I'm angry most of the time, I was already like that before I met my ex-girlfriend and it never made me unhappy, it felt natural, I was comfortable with my anger, I don't think it will ever go away, it’s probably because of something hormonal and doesn’t have an actual reason.

I don’t have any problem that I am aware of, when I was about 20 my testosterone was extremely high. That was also the time when I kept pressuring my ex-girlfriend for sex after she was the one that finally started all the sexual stuff by herself probably tired that I never tried anything, but I stopped soon when she told me how it made her feel, I felt like I was going crazy and couldn’t think of anything else, only with her though, it never made me find other women attractive, so men that use that as an excuse to cheat are stupid.

And I would have trouble breathing when I was enraged and my chest would feel way too heavy, but the doctor said it happened sometimes and that it would probably fix itself and wasn’t too dangerous since I was young, and it did after a year, so I know for sure there’s nothing wrong anymore because even if I have trouble breathing I’ve never felt like I literally have to keep gasping nonstop, and I also only feel like I’ve trouble breathing when I’ve been pushed way too far, like with my neighbors but that’s because they make me so anxious too and they keep doing it all day long, anger isn’t normally physically painful anymore. I was also often angry since I was about 5, before any of that happened, that’s why I think it’s just there for no reason, like how some people have always been too lazy because it’s just who they are.

As I've told you though, I never use my fists against other men, I always try to solve my problems with words, and I've been lucky enough to never have someone try to punch me, because then I would have had to defend myself, because of my pride, of course. Lucky because that’s not the kind of person I want to be. I also know that if someone that I am sure is so much stronger than me, probably everyone since I’m too skinny, punched me, I would feel the need to keep punching him back while being fully aware that I will likely lose, yeah because of my pride. So I'm not really hurting anyone by being this way.

Oh I also asked you not to publish it because I thought that maybe you would rather not spam your blog, but that you would obviously answer me because you felt that you had to. And when I saw you mention the anon, also, I sent another anon because I felt that if I didn't perhaps it would look like that person wasn't checking on you anymore, not that it was an awful thing, but I was still doing it so I mentioned it.

I don't know if I'll ever be able to leave this city, sadly. But I'm planning on moving out, because I'm really desperate about the noises, as soon as I can, I don't know how soon, though, but if I could I would leave this week, it just doesn't sound that likely since I'm looking for a very specific place, somewhere I can be sure that I won't be annoyed by any noises again.

I just thought that maybe you had heard about Tijuana because of its reputation, but I'm glad that the situation isn't terrible enough to have reached most people, I think that's a good way of measuring, if something is that bad most people in the world have heard about it.

If it's water and it has waves then it's just as a good, I think. I like the night and the stars better, and forests and snow too, but I still love the sea. I used to go to the beach when I was a young boy, now I don't and I haven't been for many years, but I enjoy looking at beaches on the internet. Which is crazy because I have one here. Even if I don't visit it, to me it's always weird when I actually think of how some countries don't have beaches and people have to travel just to go to one.

I like my city enough if I ignore the criminals, but I like the look of U.S.A better, that's the only country I've visited, I don't think I know which place I would rather if both countries were just as safe. It has better buildings and better streets of course since they have way more money. I used to visit California a lot as a teenager and ever since I was a 3 or 4, I feel like Target was a friend of mine, I felt like crying when I wrote that, it's funny, I just really liked it, it's just some supermarket, but I always felt good when I was there. And Disneyland. I also saw snow in that country, the only time I've ever seen snow, I felt like crying once again. We once even visited a police station until 3 AM or so because my mom's car was stolen. They ended up finding it on that night because for some reason they just stole some stuff like my iPod and moved the car to the next parking lot. My passport expired years ago and I was too lazy to get one so I can’t visit anymore. They make such a big deal out of it and often deny you a visa even if you have had already been visiting for years.

I love that country but if I could leave Mexico, since that would require a lot of effort anyway, I wouldn't strive for U.S.A, Americans think everyone would love to live there but I wouldn't because of the random shootings at restaurants and supermarkets by crazy people. I would be leaving because I want a safer city, and of course anywhere else is safer, but I would try to pick something from the top twenty safest countries list, or fifty, any place that would have me but that wasn't as dangerous. I know that you can have something happen to you anywhere, some people have been murdered in Sweden and Germany, I know, and I haven't been murdered yet and I live here. But yeah my odds of being murdered would be lower elsewhere, that's what I want.

I love this place called Sanborns, chain stores from Mexico, it's a dumb place where you can buy books and things like watches, glasses, candy, things for adults mostly, toys, but it also has a restaurant. I always felt good there. And we have Costco and Office Depot like in U.S.A, I love those places too. I also enjoyed being outside of any school building, for some reason.

I don't love places in particular, but I liked looking at the stars and at the moon from different streets and houses, and to be in the car at night and all the things I saw. I also loved certain rooms or parts from different houses that I've been to. Then these huge buildings (huge when compared to a person), two towers with a lot of stores and offices, my mom would take me there and I would walk through one of the buildings by myself while she was exercising, I would also buy magazines because I've always loved them. And then I love life and most of what I have experienced has been here. So in a way I love this place even if I wouldn't care to ever visit again if I manage to leave.

This city is where I realized I want to live forever, it's just that I know I can have the same experiences somewhere else. If I ever leave this country I know that then I could think fondly about most things from it, since I wouldn't feel at risk because of it. The funny think is I can understand what you are saying when you talk about your city, I can't claim that I know what you actually feel, but some places from Europe make me feel like that, not any place in specific, some pictures. And I can imagine what it would be like to grow up surrounded by art and culture, all that sort of stuff. When I look at those kind of pictures I feel like I am living someone else's life even if I’ve never wished for that because I love being who I am, and that I have been there and have many memories of doing things in those places.

I've been answering your letter as I am reading it, sometimes I read the whole letter before I answer and sometimes I do this, it depends on my mood, but not that I do one thing when I am sad and one when I am happy, I just do whatever I feel like doing at the time, for no reason.

So I've just realized that you asked me about traveling and I've already sort of answered. Before talking to you I didn't care about traveling that much, but now I do even if I wouldn't spend my money on it, I would save it to leave this country eventually. I didn't see it as something bad but I also wasn't drawn to it, and for some reason this month or so I've been able to see why most people really enjoy it. If I had all the money in the world and knew the plane couldn't crash, or if I were immortal, I can see myself loving to move from one city to the other every month or so, I don't see why I wouldn't rather do that than staying in the same place, though I would also like to have a home where I would keep all my stuff and favorite furniture. Before, I couldn't understand.

I'm not afraid to die, it just makes me extremely angry, I love myself, why wouldn't I be angry at the thought of disappearing. That's why I'm ridiculously careful, and some would say that's not living, but to me it is, like what I said about traveling, if I could I still wouldn't do it often anyway, because I can't know that the plane won't crash and as far as I know I am not immortal. I hope we are, we have never died. And I can still do everything I truly enjoy doing even if I never travel, that's why I wouldn't risk it, since I don't truly need to see the rest of the world in person to feel that I am living a complete life. But what I said it's also true, I can now see why everyone wants to do it.

If I traveled I would like to see U.K out of  all the places that you mentioned, I love Victorian stuff and old books written by English people. I've also always loved knights and things like that. And I didn't care that much for Egypt before but now it makes me think of you and I would like to see the pyramids, but I feel more drawn to a museum full of things from Egypt, I have never been into deserts but I love being inside of buildings, nice buildings make me feel the same way that looking at the stars does.

I'm not rich but I've never been poor or unable to buy the things that I want, but since I'm from a sort of poor country I've always been attracted to cultures that feel like they are from rich people, white people usually. If I had been born in a country that I didn't think of as poor I feel like I would be drawn to exotic places. This doesn’t happen with looks because I only like dark brown eyes and white people from that sort of cultures normally have blue or green eyes.

I've always told you that I like everything you have to say and that includes rambling, it's good when you talk more about yourself. About an hour ago or so, I had to get up, and I thought of how I often feel like crying when I am talking to you which also made me feel like crying, it was already almost 9 PM and looking at the night sky makes me emotional by itself. You are a good writer but it's not because of that, good writers don't automatically make me feel like crying. I just thought that it's nice that you want to be a writer, whether you try to sell books or not, but that you are doing it, even if it were just a private journal, it would be a waste if you didn't write.

I think the reason you aren't drawn to U.S.A is that you already have really nice buildings and that you have been to similar places but with more culture, so to me it makes sense that you wouldn't find anything special about it. I would also like to see Canada. You are lucky in the sense that most people want to visit places from Europe anyway, some spend their whole lives saving for it. You get to live in Europe and also visit it. I feel like I would also rather visit places from Europe better than all the other countries, Oceania too, first I would visit cities from U.S.A, because of what I told you before in my letter, that I also grew up there, spent some nights there, so I care for it even if I wouldn't enjoy living there, but just because of the shootings, otherwise I would love to, since I already feel a connection because of the TV Shows, books, music, brands, internet, language, and the time I spent there, it's so much safer than Mexico too.

I think Mexico City is a nice place, the actual capital of the country, it's also dangerous though, depending on the streets, but nothing like Tijuana. Their accent is terrible and funny, but not that foreigners could tell, and the air is bad for you because there's a lot of contamination, it's a really big place. But they actually live like people there, they have this university called UNAM, many museums, and great things.

I never thought you were into bondage and rape fantasies, though, I only said I wasn't into it, I was specifying because I said I was really into humiliation and that sort of stuff, so I didn't explain what I liked about it, that would have been too graphic and disgusting, but I felt like saying what I wasn't into which was easier to write without it being dirty, it doesn't make me uncomfortable but I feel like it's inappropriate for us to talk about it too graphically, somehow.

I know you are into choking because I have seen you say that on your blog and that thing about the knife from Victor, but I never saw anything about rape or bondage on your blog and didn't know you had any experience when it came to that, even if you didn't enjoy it that much. I would actually love to do sexual stuff often and I think about it daily just not all day long, but I'm not into casual sex so it's really complicated. But it's not something that I need, like when people claim is a basic need, not really, you can take care of your sexual needs by yourself for the rest of your life, you can't do that with food.

Maybe it's just your own version of sexuality too, there are no rules about how you should feel, and it would also be normal if you felt differently about it all the time. Ideally, I think you should only do something sexual if you feel like it, even if it's once a year, but I know you probably feel like that would be unfair to your boyfriend, of course it wouldn't, and I'm not saying it's some sacrifice to sleep with him, just that in an ideal world you would only have sex if you felt the urge to do it.

And you also wouldn't be wondering if there's something wrong with it. I think there's only something wrong with it if you really wish you could want it all the time but can't, and even then maybe it would still be normal. Like someone saying he wishes he could be hungry all the time but couldn't, it doesn't work like that. But you also say that it could be because you were traumatized and if so then you could need some therapy or treatment if you want to fix it, assuming there's anything to fix.

When it comes to asexuality I personally think that if someone is in love he wouldn't care about giving sex up, and that if a man cares enough about it to break up with his partner then he isn't that much in love. But I'm talking about true love since it's the only sort of love I think lasts for long, I can understand someone caring a lot for their partner but still feeling he can't give sex up and deciding it's best to leave even if I couldn't picture myself doing that, but I would call him a liar if he claimed it was true love but he had to walk away, I’d buy that he believed that, but I would think he is an idiot for believing such a thing is possible.

I don't know if I found out a year ago or two, I've known about him since I was 14 or so, and I never suspected he was gay or anything, just never thought of it, but I wasn't shocked when I read that he was, only thought it was a shame that he felt that he had to hide that part about himself for years when I read that he had struggled with that.

I don't think that here in Mexico anyone would be judged for being asexual, some ignorant people would probably say it's weird and that they aren't truly living, maybe most people, say stupid things like that, but some people would probably find it appealing, some sexist men, I think, feel that they would always be virgins and fantasize about sleeping with them. I feel some wouldn't understand and would make dumb jokes about it but that they wouldn't automatically assume it's a bad thing, maybe a lot of people over 40 and young people that think they are smart would say asexuals are just being stupid and that they need to stop using the internet so much, the worst kind of people, I can’t stand them, I would never be around them because they make me feel like I’m having a heart attack. I really love old people though, probably so much better than the young, it’s just ignorant old people that frustrate me.

And when it comes to gay people, they are accepted if they come out, mostly, some minor celebrities have and it didn’t hurt them, but of course that a lot of men still use gay as an insult and think it's the worst thing that a straight man could be called, I don’t know how their brains work in order to think there’s anything offensive about the word other than mistakenly stating someone’s sexuality.

Then some religious people are against it like religious people from most countries. Or some make this stupid protests sometimes about gay people adopting, saying they are okay with them but that they shouldn’t do that to children which makes my brain hurt because it doesn’t make any sense, saying that they do anything to children at all, it doesn’t happen often though.

I was shocked when I read this list two years ago or so about how accepting countries were of gay people and Italy was lower than Mexico (because Italy has better education and Europeans are so much cultured) but then I thought of the church and it immediately made sense. Many people are catholic here but very passive about it, they think god and Jesus are out there but don’t think about them, most people from this continent probably, except U.S.A and Canada, but nothing like in Italy, of course. There are some very catholic people too, and enough catholic private schools (religion is forbidden in public schools because they can’t force it on you) but nothing different actually happens, they just pray once a month or something and have a religion class some days. I know because I went to two religious high schools but only because my mom thought they were nice, she never really cared about it and she is actually agnostic too since I explained it to her and she thought it really made sense.

There were gay students and they never tried to change their minds, they completely ignored the topic, I only heard a teacher or two made some stupid comment about it being wrong, not hatefully, but that because of the Bible, not to them but to the class, and there was only one time when they bought a nun to talk about some stuff, about life in general, but she decided it would be a brilliant idea to spend the whole time whining about Adam and Steve and everyone was so annoyed because yeah most people hate that sort of stuff and couldn’t care less.

It was also while doing my religion homework that I realized that the Bible was full of lies when I was about 15, and that its god was made up, so great job, school.

I also believe that even if most people wouldn't think it's a big deal, a lot of celebrities are still keeping their sexuality to themselves because they want to have as many fans as they can, and you obviously always lose some fans when you say that you are gay or something other than straight. I personally wouldn't lie about being gay to keep my fans, I would want the homophobic people to stay away from me at all costs anyway and wouldn’t want them to be my fans even if they wanted to “see past the fact that I was gay”, but I understand why they feel like they have to.

Since I'm not into socializing I have no idea about this, but I feel like they probably keep annoying asexual people with stupid questions all the time no matter the country.

I had something like what happened to you too, it was when I was 14 maybe, after I took a shower, I got a lot of red patches on my body, and I remember they were so itchy but not painful, a really annoying feeling anyway, but they started disappearing as soon as the towel touched them, it was odd. You will probably be fine when it comes to allergies, my mom has been allergic to dogs forever but she still loves them and she’s around them all the time, she only gets some red hives but never had any trouble breathing or any swelling.