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fatuilady · 4 years ago

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— 𝐦𝐨𝐧𝐝𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐝𝐭 𝐛𝐨𝐲𝐬 - 𝐡𝐮𝐠𝐠𝐢𝐧𝐠. (headcanons)

✦ word count : 2.6𝐤

✦ feat : 𝐆𝐍 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 , [𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐧 𝐢𝐦𝐩𝐚𝐜𝐭] 𝐚𝐥𝐛𝐞𝐝𝐨, 𝐛𝐞𝐧𝐧𝐞𝐭𝐭, 𝐝𝐢𝐥𝐮𝐜, 𝐤𝐚𝐞𝐲𝐚, 𝐫𝐚𝐳𝐨𝐫, 𝐯𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢

✦ context : 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐥𝐲 𝐦𝐨𝐧𝐝𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐝𝐭 𝐛𝐨𝐲𝐬 𝐡𝐮𝐠 𝐲𝐨𝐮 ~

✦ cw : 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐚𝐜𝐲, 𝐩𝐡𝐲𝐬𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐥 𝐭𝐨𝐮𝐜𝐡 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐬𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐬𝐮𝐠𝐠𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐮𝐧𝐝𝐞𝐫𝐭𝐨𝐧𝐞𝐬 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞 (kaeya lol)

✦ note : apologies this one took so long, work had been swamping me ;-; ! quite long, pretty wordy, almost oneshots, but i hope you all enjoy anyway :)

𝖆𝖑𝖇𝖊𝖉𝖔 :

✦ This particular chalk prince is all too enthralled with delicacy. His very mantra is all about the fragility of life and creation, surely, you're no exception. He has a unique fascination with life and death, yet seemed to focus little on the precious moments between the cradle and the grave.

✦ Albedo is always gentle, shy and chaste when he embraces you.

✦ At first, he was unfamiliar with the sentiment as social contact had never been his forte, since he was in fact a wall of stone (or chalk?). He'd declined your open offer from his own inexperience, he failed to consider that it may portray him as cold, distant or unwelcoming.

✦ Soon enough, Albedo would begin to ponder how such a simple interaction could bring strong emotion to humankind, yet the more he dwelled upon it, the more he found his arms feeling empty. It was as if his hypothesis was proving itself wrong.

✦ Eventually, he'd come to terms with his growing curiosity, always one to initiate an experiment, he'd offer himself to return the affections - he was very glad he did.

✦ Albedo's coy nature would let him drape one arm around your shoulder, the other taking your hand. He'd wrap his soft hands around your own, placing his head beside your own. His hair would smell soft, newborn and clean, the scent of fresh cotton, baby powder and angel feathers beside your nose as he buried into you.

✦ The chalk prince unfortunately would struggle to find the time for such intimacy on the regular, but when he did find the chance to embrace you, he'd make them last as long as he could.

✦ Perhaps this still lingered from his limited understanding of social cues, but he'd hold onto you for many minutes, more than you could count on one hand. Taking you in his arms, he would touch you as if you were a blooming Cecelia, tenderly and lovingly. You'd return his care, cuddling him and wrapping both arms around his back.

✦ During his hugs, he'd also sometimes find himself tracing over your body with inquisitive hands. Albedo had never had the chance to properly appreciate your anatomy in such a manner before, but he quickly fell in love with your form.

✦ Albedo soon began to realise the adoration behind hugs; his adoration for you also began to grow. Slowly but surely, he actively began to seek out your displays of affection, whether to feel your warmth, play with the fabric of your clothes or caress your shape, he wasn't sure.

'Thank you... deeply, for sharing this moment, you... resemble a statue, I couldn't think of anyone better suited for such an embrace.'

✦ What he was sure of was that he had appreciated the beauty of life in the same way ever before than he did when he was swaddled in your arms.

𝖇𝖊𝖓𝖓𝖊𝖙𝖙 :

✦ The young adventurer is notoriously unlucky, his clumsiness an infamous curse that seems to follow him wherever he goes. It's precisely the reason he's very hesitant to come too close to you, for fear his awful fortune will wipe off on you. No matter how careful he seems to be, there's always something the archons never seem to be on his side.

✦ Instead of his bad luck rubbing off on you, maybe your good luck would rub off on him, at least, that's what you believed.

✦ Bennett was more than surprised when you asked for a hug, your request catching him quite off guard. He'd think on it for a moment, face painted in light pink as he reached for an invisible itch on the back of his neck.

✦ As the leader of Benny's Adventure Team, he'd find it fitting to stand alongside you, carefully tossing one of his arms over your shoulder. He'd snatch you closer with a squeeze, the marigold colour bandana he wore knotted around his upper arm tickling your chin.

✦ The hug itself would be friendly, full of total and mutual trust as you too curled an arm around his front and back. You'd both sway, beaming as laughing as he flashed you an appreciative thumbs up, the sunkiss on his skin making the clumsy boy hold the same warmth as a summer beach.

'I think you're my favourite adventure buddy, I must have been lucky for once to meet someone like you, traveller!'

✦ Bennett would hope to keep moving through Mondstadt with his arm around you. The idea was short lived, to say the least.

✦ As ever, his curse would catch him at the worst moment, a measly loose stone in the plaza floor catching his foot. Bennett tumbled, and so, you tumbled as well.

✦ The active boy would try his best to manoeuvre himself to catch you before you scraped the ground. You'd end up likely crossed over his lap, a compromising position, but it was all in good fun. You loved Bennett's antics, he brought excitement to what could have easily been a mundane life.

✦ Caught up in giggles, Bennett kept his arms crossed over you as he drew his head around to press both yours and his cheeks together. The moment was another perfect instance for a scrapbook, even some of Mondstadt's more grouchier personas sparing a chuckle for you both.

𝖉𝖎𝖑𝖚𝖈 :

✦ For a pyro wielder, Diluc Ragnvindr doesn't present himself warmly. Seemingly tired, uninterested and slightly callous, he concerns himself with practical matters when he is alone: economist by day, vigilante by night. Stuck in his ways, he'd see no purpose in day to day public displays of affection.

✦ This doesn't mean he dislikes contact in private, however.

✦ The common misconception would leave one to believe Diluc was a stone gargoyle, incapable and unwilling to act in any other way. Alone with you, he couldn't be further from it, in fact, in most cases, he's the one to initiate the contact, sometimes without even asking.

✦ When, and only when, perfect conditions are met does Diluc lets go of his tough exterior and ultimately boils down to a lovesick puppy. However, he much prefers to be alone alongside you, of course, in these endeavours.

✦ With nobody else in sight, he would be quick to start loving, his stature still ever strong as he discarded his gloves. The dark side of dawn much preferred to hold you with his bare hands to further lift your caring skinship.

✦ Diluc would wear a sincere smile, one of patience and relief as he drew closer to you. He'd wait for you to signal him with your own charming grin, and only then would he leap into the biggest, most tender bear hug one could conjure.

✦ Strong arms suffocated you as one hand rested on the back of your head, savouring the softness of your hair. The other would cross behind you and after a few compassionate minutes, he'd concentrate his strength to lift you up, up and further into his arms.

✦ If you would like to be put down, he'd place you gentle back onto the floor, releasing you slowly. The flaming hero would notice the mess he had made of your hair, tussling it back to it's usual shape with his fingers.

✦ Otherwise, you could wrap your legs around him, and whilst supporting you, he'd spin around and hold you tightly. Head against his chest, you'd twirl stray strands of his strawberry coloured ponytail in your fingers, relishing in the lingering scent of warm booze, sweet flowers and flecks of ash.

'I apologise for the wait, I'm glad you're still here, you know how dearly I treasure your touch.'

✦ He almost seemed a natural, more so than his love driven brother when it came to private intimacy, but truthfully, he still held small amounts of insecurity. His worry would be holding you too roughly, but the more you insisted you loved his hugs, the more the people of Mondstadt would notice him acting much more chipper during his day shifts at Angel's Share.

𝖐𝖆𝖊𝖞𝖆 :

✦ Smooth talking, smooth moving, smooth loving, there's nothing about the Favonius Cavalry Captain that doesn't radiate utmost self confidence. He acts on his own accord, conducting how he pleases. Still one for manners, he'd clear the water with you far in advance before laying on the next level of his flirtatious affairs.

✦ Kaeya Alberich is incredibly touchy, his behaviour consistent in public, private, wherever he happens to be in the same space as you. His hugs are amatory; romanced laced in the most teasing way.

✦ You could be communing with citizens of Mondstadt, researching in the library, helping sweep away stray leaves at the cathedral on behalf of a desperate attendee. Kaeya makes a habit of catching a glimpse of you as he patrols the city, making a discreet beeline to catch up to you.

✦ Regardless of if you were courting or merely on mutual acquaintanced basis, he'd know exactly which places to stir up when he hugged you from behind.

✦ The frostbearing swordsman would care little about an outside audience, and would enjoy it in true deriding manner if you grew flustered at simply the thought of being intimate in public.

✦ Kaeya would snake his arms around your waist, hands smoothing over the angles or curves. Afterwards, he'd lean into the crook of your neck to place a gentle kiss on your skin.

'I simply couldn't wait another moment, you're heavenly~'

✦ His hair, much like is brothers, would flow over your shoulder like a rich waterfall, scented with rose oil, glistening jasmine and chai.

✦ In private, Kaeya would be even more adoring, favouring a gentler approach opposed to his more teasing public affections. He'd love for you to sit between his legs on the couch, back rested against his chest.

✦ A master of fine swordmanship, he'd be oh so gentle, his touches feather soft, sometimes even so gentle you wouldn't even notice they were there. Regardless, he loves more than life to make a fuss over you when you hug, he loves to play with your hair, he loves to spin circles into your skin with careful fingertips, he loves to whisper every word you'd like to hear all with the intent of making the moment stretch for as long as it could.

✦ Kaeya knew he was free to share his love with you at any moment, but that didn't keep him from making each hug count, after all, he simply just adores the way you fit perfectly into him.

𝖗𝖆𝖟𝖔𝖗 :

✦ Razor is a curious soul, one of primal roots. Human intimacy is worlds apart from the care he shared with his Lupical, so he craves the best of both worlds. The wolf boy wants to learn, who better to verse him in human affection than you?

✦ When you'd ask him if he would like a hug, he was unsure what it was. He'd tilt his head to the side, clueless, but eager nonetheless. If he had a tail like his canine brother and sisters, it would surely be swaying side to side by now

✦ You'd find it adorable how he'd mimic your movements like a puppet, you raised an arm and he'd do the same.

✦ As you brought yourself closer to him, he'd hesitate slightly, his feral nature urging him to step away, but his human mind knew he trusted you, so he stayed in place and allowed you to cuddle him.

✦ When wolves displayed the same behaviour, it was one of threatening origin, normally the kickstarter of an incoming fight, but with you, he felt no threat at all. Admittedly, he seemed a little stiff when you engulfed him, not quite sure what to do with his limbs, he marvelled in place for a moment.

✦ Razor felt a flurrying heat collect in his face as he gasped, gradually relaxing his shoulders as he melted away into your embrace. He also might have felt his eyes sting a little with joyful tears, it was something new, surely, but the half wolf didn't mind it.

✦ He tried to sneak a glance at how you were holding him so he could do his best to replicate it. Hesitantly, he placed his arms around you in return, though they almost seemed to lag as he moved them. Once they were securely around you, Razor felt himself click into place and squeeze tightly.

✦ Gentle wind breezed over you, catching his distinct scent of earth, fresh rain and crushed berries. He seemed a little cold from the touch, but this was expected from somebody who spent his life outside in the roaming scape of Wolvendom.

✦ His hair, though mildly knotted in some places, truly did feel plush like a wolf's pelt, ideal to pat and stroke.

'You are...warm... Razor likes it, I will... stay, for a while'

✦ Razor had discovered two things: He now loved hugs possibly more than hunting, but what he loved most was your hugs specifically.

✦ He'd be more subtle, yet increasingly obvious in the future. Whenever the overgrown puppy of a boy would crave some attention, he'd shuffle close to you, raising his arms in the same way you did when you introduced the concept to you. Moreover, he'd be seeking you out a lot-

𝖛𝖊𝖓𝖙𝖎 :

✦ A carefree and free flowing spirit by design, Venti is true to his element when it comes to hugs. He's a very affectionate boy, but in a more innocent sense. Always full of mischievous laughter, he appreciates the silliness and fun behind the little things.

✦ The windborne bard would be very open about hugs and public affections, often asking both if he could receive and give. When accepting his proposal, you'd get to see him close his eyes in delight, cheering to himself in a childish manner.

✦ He'd be all about the performance, being a bard and all gives him this habit. Laughter, singing, general sounds of delight, whatever he can conjure, Venti would beam with happiness from even the smallest contact with you.

✦ Venti would run and spring into you through the long grass strewn across Starsnatch Cliff, gusts of anemo following his excited behaviour.

✦ What's most humouring is the rather short boy propping himself up on the tips of his toes in order to better the hug, draping both of his arms around your neck.

✦ The bard would love to look into your eyes, placing a cheeky kiss on the tip of your nose. Another common practice would be cupping your face with one hand, holding it in his palm with nothing but adoration.

✦ Another curious trick of his involves his elemental skill. Charging it, he'd hold onto you tightly, chirping as you'd both lock into each other.

'Ehe, hold on tightly, I don't want you to fall!'

✦ In one single burst, you'd be launched upwards by a powerful gust, high enough to see all of Mondstadt in the unexpectedly strong arms of your favourite Archon.

✦ Brushing stray hairs that came loose from your hairstyle during the departure, he was something freeing, a breath of fresh air as you drifted contentedly to the delicate grass below.

✦ Everything about the old young bard seemed peaceful as you'd stay warm, knitted together laying down amongst the dandelions.

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pockydays · 4 years ago

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unravel me

⤷ characters: tsukishima x gn!reader

⤷ synopsis: in which you notice tsukishima struggling to peel the tape off his fingers during study hall. what you didn’t notice, however, was how much he had the ability to find his way into every aspect of your life, until it was too late.

⤷ word count: 6.3k (longest fic to date woohoo!)

⤷ contains: fluff, slight angst, acquaintances to friends to lovers (?), mild language, my (insanely) wordy writing

⤷ a/n: i’m not even lying this took me weeks to write and it’s my baby :] most of the dialogue in this is probably hot shit but if you enjoyed please leave a like/reblog :3: mwah mwah ily all thank you for being patient with my slow ass <3 and thank you to my dear friend abby for beta reading the first chunk of this story, if you read this ily <3

You've always considered yourself as someone who wasn't especially generous. But you weren’t incredibly selfish, either. You were in some sort of grey area, too indifferent to care about what society says about people who aren't willing to go so far as to sell their souls to the devil for the common good. But you weren't heartless, either. You cared, usually out of mutual convenience. Isn't that what everyone does? Ninety-nine percent of the time, helping others (undeniably) involves genuinely good intentions, but they coexist with selfish motives as well. Then what about that one percent?

That one percent, in fact, came to you in the most inconspicuous of times: during mid-day study hall.

You found yourself going through the motions of your everyday routine: walking into the classroom, saying hi to your friend in the third row, putting your bag on the desk, pulling out your chair, sitting down, taking out your notebook and pencils, and waiting for approximately thirty-nine seconds until a (supposedly attractive, or at least according to whispers among your female classmates, which was bold of them to assume that he even liked girls in that way — you weren’t one to burst their bubbles) tall blond guy with glasses walked through the door, and greet him with a nonchalant "hey" and a wave.

And after that, if he responded with a slightly snarkier tone than usual, you knew he was having an especially bad day (more likely than not, it was because of the volleyball teammates he often complained about). But as for the real reason why, your guess was as good as anybody else's. He probably had piss in his Cheerios every morning and his trousers in a twist until the end of time for all you knew.

But today was slightly different than usual. For one, a full minute had already passed after you took out your pencils and yesterday’s chemistry notes, and there was still no sign of him. For some unknown reason, you couldn't stop the worry gnawing its way into your conscience. You rested your chin in one hand and drummed your fingers on the desk with the other, trying not to think about your classmate with a sharp tongue and a glare that could kill. Of course, trying to not think about something is a form of thinking about it, so that didn’t exactly work out.

The bell suddenly rang, jolting you out of your thoughts as well as your seat. Tsukishima Kei was now officially late, according to the school rules. Thankfully, your study hall advisor was lenient and understanding enough to not mark anybody late if they arrived within a reasonable time as to not tarnish their transcript, but you knew Tsukishima well enough to know that he wouldn’t care about a single unsavory comment that would only have the slightest potential to alarm admissions officers in those money-hungry institutions.

That was one thing you admired about your classmate. His ability to judge what things to put his effort into and selectively choose what he could get away with doing half-assed was unparalleled. As far as you could tell, volleyball was something he didn’t deem as worthy to put his all into. You weren’t usually wrong in such judgements about people, but then again, you’d only been right, let’s say, a total of three out of three times. You weren’t sure if it was considered a really good or really bad track record, so you’d always kept those sort of assumptions to yourself.

“Not going to say hi to me today? That’s awfully rude of you,” a voice said, out of the blue. You tense, wondering who had the audacity to call you rude.

“What?” you asked incredulously before you could realize where the voice came from. “Oh, it’s you,” you said, recognizing his inhumanly tall frame and the pair of white headphones around his neck. I should’ve guessed; of course only he’s brash enough to say something like that.

You rested your chin in your hands again, the tension in your body visibly dissipating. You were glad that it was just Tsukishima and not some other person, because they would be a pain in the ass to deal with. Plus, he was just about the only person you allowed to speak without a filter; one, because it’s fun verbally sparring with him, and two, it makes his stunned silence after you counter with an especially witty phrase all the more satisfying.

This time, though, he sat down at the desk to your left without a word. Usually, he would never pass up the chance to have another round of firing tasteful insults at you. Today was indeed slightly different than usual.

As he clicked the top of his mechanical pencil, you couldn’t help but notice a flash of white one his hands out of the corner of your eye. Did he always have that on his hands or was I just horribly unobservant before?

Leaning over to his seat at a dangerous angle, you asked, “Hey, what’s up with your fingers? You have leprosy or something?” in hopes of lightening his supposedly gloomy mood.

“Shut up,” he muttered irritably. “If I had leprosy, my fingers would’ve fallen off by now and I would’ve put one in your lunch as a keepsake,” he added. Shifting away from you in his chair, he tried as much as possible to make his (in your opinion, unconventionally lanky) body as far away as possible from your general vicinity.

“Okay, okay, geez! At least tell me, because now I’m curious and it’s all your fault.”

“If I tell you, will you stop bothering me?” he asked, rubbing the bridge of his nose in frustration.

“Maaybee...?” you replied slowly, trying to find an answer when a simple “yes” or “no” didn’t suffice.

“If you’re not going to stop bothering me, then I don’t have a reason to tell you, so no,” he frowned, crossing his arms self-righteously.

“Alright then, keep your secrets, mister. I don’t care whether you tell me or not.” Which wasn’t completely the truth, since some tiny part of your conscience thought that wrestling the answer from him was for the better. “But just know that I’ll continue to be my annoying self, so don’t say I didn’t warn you.” With that, you turned your attention back to your chemistry notes.

A few silent minutes passed before you leaned back over to his desk on the left.

“Hey mister, do you have some pencil lead? I think I ran out,” you whispered to Tsukishima.

He heaved what you thought was the biggest sigh in the universe before responding, “Point-five or point-seven?”

“Tsukishima, you wound me! I thought you knew that I write exclusively in point-five!” you exclaimed with a hand over your chest, feigning offense.

He rolled his eyes, and out of the corner of your eye, you saw him count out three pieces of lead. Three, that’s generous, you think to yourself as you suppress a small smile.

“Thanks, mister,” you whispered as you plucked the delicate sticks of graphite from his fingers. Taking a quick glance at his hands, you noticed that his fingers were wrapped in some sort of adhesive tape. Before Tsukishima could catch you looking for too long and make some snarky remark about how absolutely positively beautiful his hands were for you to be staring, you abruptly turn back to your notes and refill your (actually already lead-filled) pencil. If he wouldn’t answer your question, it wouldn’t hurt to take things into your own hands and figure it out for yourself, right?

You looked back to the notebook in front of you, but with your curiousity still unsatiated, you couldn’t help the thoughts bouncing off the walls of your mind, competing for your undivided attention.

Ask him about it! a voice yelled.

Mind your own business, you creepy fuck! another (particularly foul-mouthed) one screamed.

At this point, you’d probably read the first line of your notebook about thirty times without comprehending a single thing, so you decided to give up and resort to banging your head lightly on your desk.

Apparently, 'lightly’ was an understatement, because a voice on your left hissed, “What’s your problem?!”

Oops.

“Nothing,” you replied softly with your head still on the desk.

Tsukishima sighed in exasperation. “Well, now I’m curious and it’s all your fault,” he scoffed, using your own words from earlier.

Now it was your turn to sigh. Stubborn person number one meets equally stubborn person number two: one of life’s most aggravating experiences.

“C’mon, let me see your hands,” you demanded, your own hand outstretched. You’ll say ‘no’ no matter what I ask.

“No.” Tsukishima pushed his glasses further up the bridge of his nose and turned away.

Point proven.

You had always considered yourself to be somewhat generous when circumstances permitted, yes. But being yourself around others was something you considered yourself to be quite good at, as well.

Sometimes you imagined what it would be like if people’s hearts had metaphorical layers of thread surrounding them, winding, twisting, wrapping, and sometimes tangling around and around the ugliest, scariest, or most precious parts of themselves. The people you met would either unravel a bit of your heart, even if just a little bit, or they would cause you to wind the threads of your heartstrings even more tightly.

You had strings that were (sometimes laughably) effortless to unwind, but once someone got to the last layer of thread, they refused to unravel any further. In other words, you weren’t afraid to be ninety-nine percent yourself around everybody. But that one percent? You’d keep it safely tucked away behind the impenetrable fortress of that last previous layer of thread — for both the good of yourself and everyone else.

Sometimes, you also wondered what the threads wrapping around Tsukishima’s heart was like. Not because you particularly had more of an interest in him than your other classmates, but because he was a sort of enigma to you. You had countless questions: How hard is it to unravel those threads? and What lies beyond those tightly wound strings? and What did he have to hide that is so unsightly? et cetera, et cetera. He was a puzzle you wanted to piece together, although you weren’t sure what the finished product would look like, or if there even was a finished product.

You had a lot more questions about Tsukishima than you did answers.

You must’ve been deep in thought for a while, because it took an utterance of some rather coarse language to bring you back to reality.

“Fuck,” Tsukishima muttered, fiddling with the tape covering his fingers. It was evident, after about ten seconds of observing him, that he was getting nowhere. At this point, you were presented with two choices: to help him or to leave him to wallow in his own frustration and suffer. Admittedly, the latter option seemed rather entertaining, but for some unknown reason, you opted for the former.

“Here, let me help,” you said, hand extending in front of you as an offer. “You obviously aren’t getting anywhere, so let me put you out of your misery.”

“You better get it all off then,” he grumbled, outstretching his arm, letting it limply dangle in front of your face. Huh, I didn’t expect him to actually agree so easily.

You gently took his hand, and starting with his pinky finger, you worked your nails under the end of the tape. As the tape unraveled further, you couldn’t help but notice how elegant his hands were. They were long and slender in ways that yours weren’t — the magnum opus of all things relating to hands. If God played favorites, he certainly did when it came to Tsukishima’s hands. Geez, knock it off, you cringed inwardly. You’re literally worshipping his hands at this point.

“So, uh, why are your fingers covered in tape?” You hoped to break the awkward silence between the two of you, and asking him questions that he probably wouldn’t answer (especially to plebeians like you) seemed like the last resort.

“Volleyball practice,” he responded simply.

Oh. I didn’t expect an actual response.

“This morning? You guys sometimes have practice early in the day, right?”

“Last evening,” he corrected.

“You had these on your hands for that long?! I see you’re finally getting serious about volleyball, my dude, but you have to be able to ask other people for help." People other than me, but if I’m your last resort, then I’d be happily obliged to help.

Tsukishima scowled, which, thankfully, you missed, busy undoing the tape around his fingers. At least you didn’t criticize him for being hypocritical regarding his attitude about volleyball, which was relieving.

There was a substantial (and slightly awkward) pause as you peeled the white adhesive strip of cloth off of his fingers, working slowly enough so that it wouldn’t hurt, or so you hoped.

“There we go!” you exclaimed proudly as the last of the tape fell away from his fingers. He wiggled them experimentally, not unlike a newly hatched butterfly would flap its fresh new pair of wings.

“Thanks,” he responded curtly.

As if on cue, the bell rang, marking the end of study hall. It was time for chemistry class.

Over the course of your next class, your mind with occupied with thoughts that weren’t even remotely related to chemistry. You almost had a close call with the teacher when he called on you to answer a question, but thankfully, your friend sitting next to you whispered the answer in your ear — though not before giving you a quizzical look. You were too embarrassed to say that you were actually thinking about why the hell you actually agreed to help the guy sitting the next seat over whom you should have absolutely nothing to do with.

I did not just touch his hands no no no — I did not just hold hands with Tsukishima Kei — It wasn’t really of my own volition and he looked like he really needed help and I was feeling generous and it conveniently benefited the both of us, right? He got to finally be free from his misery and I— I got to touch his hands—

Your thoughts spiraled out of control as you buried your face in your hands, and perhaps some of the threads around your heart unraveled themselves that day.

Thus, after that day, your everyday routine changed in more ways than one. You would into the classroom, say hi to your friend in the third row, put your bag on the desk, pull out your chair, sit down, take out your notebook and pencils, and wait for approximately thirty-nine seconds until a tall blond guy with glasses walked through the door, and greet him with a nonchalant "hey" and a wave. If he still had tape around his fingers (which was quite often), you’d ask him if he needed help; he’d say yes, and you would spend the next however many minutes undoing the adhesive strips of cloth.

Today was no different. You carefully eased the tape away from Tsukishima’s fingers. When you got to the base of his ring finger, he hissed in pain. The skin there was red and raw as if it had been recently injured. Not as if, it had been.

“Sorry,” you whispered, wincing as if you were the one in pain. “How’d you get hurt?” This time, you were genuinely concerned for him, which was rare for anyone, especially him.

“The one time I put some more effort into volleyball as if it were actually worth something, it comes back to bite me,” he muttered, gritting his teeth.

You looked up from his hand.

“What?”

“I said, somehow I always give the things that I swear off from my life a second chance, it never, ever, works out,” he muttered through gritted teeth.

“Did anyone ever tell you that you can’t get better out of sheer will? You’re bound to slip and fall on your butt at least a few times. Or a lot,” you responded.

“Nobody told me that falling would hurt this much, though,” he replied. He looked off to the side, too embarrassed to meet your gaze.

“It’ll get better, trust me. You just have to get back off your ass and stand up.”

You left the conversation at that and continued undoing the tape on his other hand.

I want to kiss his hands like I’m greeting the crown prince of a foreign kingdom, you thought, lips twitching, fighting back a small smile.

Oh my God, stop it! you mentally slapped yourself. You had to restrain yourself from actually slapping yourself in the face. Meanwhile, the uniform you wore began to feel a bit too warm — it was quite convenient that Tsukishima couldn’t see your face at that moment.

Unbeknownst to you, however, Tsukishima's thoughts weren’t nearly as calm as his cool and collected exterior.

After all, what was he supposed to do when he could feel your breath fanning on his hands (could he tell you were desperately trying to keep them steady?) and your meticulous fingers on his?

I must be going crazy, he thought.

He imagines holding your hand, and not because of that dumb finger tape-

He shook his head, as if to dislodge the idea from his memory. No, I’m definitely going crazy.

“So, do you like him or something?” your best friend asked out of the blue during a sleepover, the both of you laying in the darkness on your sleeping bags.

“Who?” you asked, though you had an idea of who she was referring to.

“Tsukishima. That guy who sits to your left during study hall.”

“No, why would I like him? I mean, how can you even tell if you like someone or not. It’s not like there’s a radar that detects crushes and blasts ‘OH MY GOD YOU’RE HOPELESSLY IN LOVE’ on speaker,“ you replied dryly.

“Do you feel different around him?” she asked.

“As in the cliché symptoms of love that you read in romance novels? Like you feel like your heart is going to burst out of your chest and you have to clutch your shirt like it’s gonna pop out onto the floor if you don’t? If that’s what you’re asking, then no.”

“I mean that could be a sign, but you don’t have to feel like that to like someone. I mean in the way that you’re willing to show them who you really are, including all the ugly parts of yourself that you wouldn’t show to other people.”

Of course not! you thought to yourself. There’s no way I would fall in love with someone that I argue with for fun, right?

“Why do you always complain about those tryhards on your volleyball team? You can always quit, you know,” you asked after Tsukishima was in a particularly bad mood about something, presumably about volleyball (as it usually was). As per your daily schedule, you were unraveling his finger tape during study hall once again.

“Don’t they know that the more effort they put into something, the more it’ll hurt when they find out everything they believe in is a lie?” he asked.

You paused. Oh, it was an a genuine question, you realized. And he wants a genuine answer.

“Such as?” you asked, your mouth acting quicker than your mind. I probably shouldn’t have pried deeper into something that’s obviously his business.

He went ahead and responded anyway, but not before taking a deep breath.

“When I was little,” he began, “I looked up to my older brother a lot. I really respected him, you know? He was my idol; he was perfect and infallible in every way. He played volleyball in junior high, so it was only natural that I played the same sport he did. And he continued playing throughout high school, or so I thought.”

“Or so you thought?” you repeated.

“He lied to me.” With those four words, you heard years and years of resentment and bitterness through his shaking voice, barely above a whisper.

“To be honest, I should’ve expected it,” he continued, laughing humorlessly at himself. “I was too enamored to realize that when he was trying to stop me from watching his games, he was also trying to stop me from finding out that he was a liar. He wasn’t even a starting player. Instead he was on the bench, cheering for the team he was supposedly on.”

As those words left his mouth, you realized how little you understood Tsukishima. No, it was honestly ridiculous how you could consider yourself his friend when all you did was unwind strips of tape from his fingers for a mere few minutes every day.

Despite that, you held his hands a little tighter.

“If you don’t mind, I had a similar experience in junior high as well. This girl that I was really close friends with apparently had a huge circle of friends outside of school, and she would tell me and my other friends about all the rich guy friends she had and how well they treated her and shit. But I found out years later that they were probably all made up so that she could have something to tell us. So that she could keep us in her friend group. I realized they were fake.”

You let go of his hands, your arms limp at the memory.

“And how are you two right now?” Tsukishima asked. “Your relationship, I mean.”

“Surprisingly, we’re still on good terms,” you said. “She still doesn’t know I found out. But despite her pretending to be someone else in front of us for all those years, I still don’t think she’s a bad person. I’m actually kinda glad she got the attention she wanted. But man, the past still hurts like a bitch,” you chuckled in an attempt to forget.

“I see,” he replied. With that, you picked up his hand once again, continuing to undo the tape around the rest of his fingers.

That day, both you and the once unyielding, stone-faced Tsukishima left the classroom knowing just a bit more about each other.

You didn’t know that day that Tsukishima had his first real conversation with his brother after ‘the incident’.

He didn’t know you gave that friend from junior high a call for the first time in two years.

And the threads around your hearts unwound themselves just a bit more.

“No, I don’t,” you finally responded after a long pause. “I don’t like him in that way. He’s just someone I can rant to about the shit that happened in junior high—”

“Say that again, but slower,” your friend interrupted.

“He’s someone that I can rant to about all the... stuff that happened in the past,” you repeated. Did she not hear me the first time?

“Exactly, that’s my point,” she responded. “You never talk about those things with anybody, and even when I bring it up, you just brush over it.”

The weight of what your friend was implying took far too long for your brain to register, but when it did—

“Oh shit, I think I might actually like Tsukishima.”

It was in the classroom of your mid-day study hall where Tsukishima Kei stole your heart bit by bit through the conversations you had with him while unraveling his finger tape; it was where you opened your heart and he opened his.

“You and Tsukishima aren’t a thing, right?” a voice asked you out of the blue in the hallway after the dismissal bell rang.

“What?” you asked, turning your head to see who it was. You recognized her, although you struggled to put a name to her face. “You sit in the back of our study hall classroom, right? And to answer your question, no, we are not a thing.”

Such questions were becoming all the more frequent these days, and you had the same two-letter answer to all of them (although you secretly hoped you could answer yes, but how Tsukishima felt about you was a whole different story).

“Yeah, I do. But are you sure you two aren’t dating? Like you could just be going out with him and not know it,” she answered.

You held back a snort that almost escaped your lips.

“No, I’m sure we aren’t,” you said with a sigh, trying to keep your tone remotely cordial. “Besides, I’m not sure if he even considers me as a friend.”

“Oh, I’m sure he considers you as more than that,” she replied with a tone you couldn’t quite decipher. “Trust me.”

You barely knew her, so you couldn’t say how credible her statement was (though you desperately wanted it to be true). You glanced at the clock, itching to end the conversation.

“Alright, then. I’ll take your word for it. I have to get home now though, seeya.”

“Seeya around then,” she replied with a wave. Why does that sound strangely ominous?

“Bye,” you answered, too mentally drained from the conversations that began with the same question: ”Oh my God are you dating Tsukishima?” (Answer: no, no you weren’t). Nonetheless, you couldn’t ignore the nagging voice in your head that you haven’t seen the last of her just yet.

She appeared the very next day, in the same spot at the hallway after school ended. That’s... strange.

You decided to ignore how off-putting it was. Maybe it was her wide smile — so much so that you could see her dimples and her blinding white teeth. Or maybe it was the way she spoke, like she was trying to get something from you. Whatever it was, you didn’t have what she wanted.

“If you’re asking whether Tsukishima and I became a thing within the past twenty-four hours, then no,” you said in exasperation. She was now walking by your side with an odd spring in her step, a bit too close for comfort despite the empty hallway.

“No, that wasn’t my question,” she said with a chuckle. “You keep denying that Tsukishima doesn’t like you, but I think he does.”

You had to scoff at that.

“In what way?”

“In that way,” she responded with a knowing glance. “You’re already in the talking stage with him! He never talks to anyone other than that one friend he has, so I’d say you’re off to a good start.”

“And that totally means that he’s in love with me.”

“Please, don’t lie to yourself. You’ve gotten farther than anybody has, even if they tried for their entire life. How did you do it?”

But I didn’t do anything, you thought.

“I just talked to him about stuff,” you replied slowly. The look she gave you said go on, so you did.

“I just talked to him about myself and deep stuff and shi— and such. I really didn’t do much, so I’m probably not the best person to ask. Why don’t you try and ask his friend Yamaguchi?”

“No, I think I’m good,” she said with an unreadable tone. “Well I gotta go, so see you tomorrow!”

“....Bye,” you replied halfheartedly. You tried to shake the unsettling feeling from your chest, but you couldn’t help thinking, What if he does like me back?

The volleyball made a resounding smack against the court behind the middle blocker instead of his hands. Tsukishima clenched his fists, gritting his teeth. Another ball that I couldn’t block?

“Hey, use your smartass head for once and pay attention!” Kageyama yelled across the court.

Tsukishima ignored his taunts.

“Oh, the smart mouth finally doesn’t have any words left to say? Finally some peace and quiet,” Kageyama muttered.

Practice continued for far too long, but the whistle finally blew, signaling everyone that it was time to go home. Finally, Tsukishima thought. I don’t have to listen to the King spew nonsense anymore.

He and Yamaguchi gathered their belongings and made their way out of the gym.

“Something’s on your mind,” Yamaguchi commented as they walked back home side by side.

“No there isn’t,” Tsukishima replied a bit too quickly to sound convincing.

“Right.”

A long silence ensued, the two of them kicking pebbles on the road and twiddling their thumbs in the cool night air. The buzz of the electric street lamps felt much too loud, feeding off the tension in the air.

“How can you tell that you like someone?” Tsukishima was the first to break the silence, but it was the question, not the fact that he was the one that spoke first, that was more jarring.

“So I was right,” Yamaguchi responded after a slight pause. He fought back a small smile and added, “I thought something bad happened that I didn’t know about, but it turns out that you’re just in love.”

The taller one of the two sighed.

“I’m asking you to tell me if I... like someone in that way, not for you to tell me that I am, Tadashi.”

“I can’t make a judgement if you don’t tell me anything. Tell me.” Yamaguchi lightly punched his friends arm.

“There’s this... classmate of mine. They asked if I needed help peeling off my finger tape during study hall and I said yes.”

“I figured as such.”

“What?”

“You always come into first period with your fingers still wrapped but it’s gone by the time practice starts. I always wondered why but I never got around to asking you. But I’m even more surprised at the fact that you actually agreed.”

“Yeah, I surprise even myself sometimes,” Tsukishima deadpanned. “Especially the fact that it would become something that they would ask pretty much every day, and I would say yes every time. I just don’t know whether I have feelings for them in that way or not.”

“Well, do you look forward to talking to them everyday?” Yamaguchi asked.

Yes.

“Do you want them to know you for who you really are instead of what people think you are?”

Yes.

“Does your mind wander to them all the time?”

Yes.

“If you flipped a coin to decide whether you do like them or not, would your gut tell you the answer before you looked at whether it landed on head or tails?”

Yes, Tsukishima answered silently, knowing he’d finally have to accept the truth: he was in love and there was nothing he could do about it.

One thing you didn’t know about having a crush on someone was that you suddenly realize how often they appear in your life. You knew where you’d cross paths with him in the hallway before and after school, where his locker was, and worst of all, every goddamn love song reminded you of him.

Even all the little mannerisms people had circled back to him: your friend would push her glasses up her nose the same way he did. Your mother would furrow her eyebrows like him when he was thinking about a particularly annoying math problem. Your English teacher would spin a pen between his fingers, just like him (although you had to admit that you preferred watching the latter do so; his hands were prettier).

Maybe this was just some twisted manifestation of the Baader-Meinhof Phenomenon, but your brain couldn’t recall enough content from psychology class to be sure. Either way, you were going insane.

That is, until one rather unremarkable day; there was nothing out of the ordinary. Everything came and went according to schedule — the same time spent with Tsukishima during study hall and the same boring class lectures. But as soon as the dismissal bell rang, you were surprised to find that the girl who would pester you in the hallway asking about you and Tsukishima’s relationship status (you still didn’t know her name) as if anything had changed (which it had not, of course).

Apparently, her presence had already become routine enough for you to notice her absence.

It was a welcome change, though; it wasn’t like you wanted her to be around. No, you absolutely didn’t need her nosy questions. So you just shrugged it off and made your way to the school’s exit like you normally did.

But a very familiar voice from a nearby classroom made your ears perk up — coincidentally, from your study hall classroom. You peered into the room from the doorway.

“Um, I think I like you, Tsukishima! I’ve felt this way for a long time and I just had to tell you!” The same boisterous girl who only had one topic of conversation with you (Tsukishima, of course) now had her hands coyly clasped behind her back, in all likelihood holding something meant for him.

As soon as you heard those words leave her mouth, the world around you seemingly ground to a halt — and so did you. As if your body stopped functioning for a moment, your heart stopped and your brain took much too long to process what she said.

What did it matter anyway? You didn’t take your chance and look where that got you.

You turned on your heel and half-walked half-ran outside the school.

The second thing you didn’t realize about having a crush on someone, you realized as you laid in the darkness in the middle of the night, is that it physically hurts. Someone might as well have put your heart in a jar of acid and screwed the lid shut — no matter how hard you tried, it still hurt. And hurt it did.

You felt a stray tear slide down your cheek, and you angrily punched your pillow. You didn’t even have the emotional capacity to be angry at the girl who confessed to him. It was too obvious that she liked him, from the way she would stand a bit straighter when you mentioned Tsukishima’s name to the way she seemed a bit too satisfied when you said that you weren’t dating him. Were you too much of an idiot to notice?

But most importantly, you were angry at yourself. Why were you crying over someone who you knew wouldn’t like you in the way that you liked him? Maybe you were too much of an idiot to not think things through; you’d just assumed that your feelings for him were so intense that he had to like you back. In retrospect, that was a stupid idea. But then again, in retrospect, you were the idiot all along.

It was in the classroom of your mid-day study hall where Tsukishima Kei stole your heart. It was in the same classroom where you got your heart broken for the first time.

The most annoying thing about the universe was that it was ruthlessly, unrelentingly cruel. The earth kept spinning even if your world stopped mid-orbit, too traumatized by loss to continue.

This was the brutal irony that you came to realize in the classroom where it all began and ended, supposedly. The very next morning, you had to pick your sorry self out of bed after however many hours of sleep you were able to get and go to school. And now half the school day had gone by — it was study hall time once again.

“Are you gonna help me get this off my fingers or not?” The voice that you wanted so desperately to get out of your mind after months of replaying in your head plagued you once again. Indeed, the universe was cruel.

“No,” you replied meekly with your head on the desk. “It’s been long enough for you to know how to do it yourself by now.”

“I insist.”

You hesitated. A second passed, then two.

“Fine.”

Ever since you realized your feelings for the other boy with a cold stare and an even icier glare, you couldn’t help but be hyper aware of yourself, and today was no different.

You could hear your own heartbeat in your ears. Could he? (It wasn’t that obvious, was it?)

You could feel yourself getting warmer by the second. Could he tell? (You were too busy looking at his hands; so let’s hope not.)

You knew that your heart was tugging you in his direction, urging you to do something. Was his doing the same? (You scoffed at yourself — you went over this last night and came to the conclusion that no, there was no way he could ever like you back.)

But maybe you wanted to be wrong this time. Being proven wrong wasn’t something you particularly enjoyed, but you would rather take the pessimistic point of view in this circumstance so you wouldn’t get hurt. And yet you still got your heart broken.

That didn’t stop your erratic heartbeat and staggered breaths whenever your fingers brushed over his, though. While slowly unwinding the tape down his fingers, you wondered how many threads he unwound from your heart for it to hurt so much when it broke. Too many for your emotions to be left undamaged by something like this, you reckoned. Not that it was his fault, of course. It was your own for becoming so naïve and vulnerable.

But, the universe was full of irony. While you had your head down, too embarrassed and dejected to say anything else, Tsukishima was thanking whatever gods existed that you couldn’t see how flustered he was.

Turns out, even people with hearts of stone can fall prey to the symptoms of falling in love. With a million thoughts collectively running through your minds, he was the first to blurt out:

“I think I’m in love.”

You let go of his hands, the loose end of the tape still dangling. There were too many questions raised at the utterance of a single sentence: With whom? When? How? Why?

Before you could organize your thoughts and form a coherent sentence — as if he could read your mind and peer into your soul — Tsukishima answered:

“With you.”

And as soon as the last two words fell from his lips, the last of the threads surrounding your worn, beaten hearts unraveled themselves, and fell away.

#tsukishima kei #tsukishima x reader #tsukishima x gn!reader #haikyuu fanfic #haikyuu fanfiction #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu imagine #haikyuu oneshot #tsukishima fluff #haikyuu angst #tsukishima angst #tsukishima oneshot

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masterkief · 4 years ago

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request: i literally had a dreqm about it but maybe... where yr drunk or something and ryan takes care of you nd tucks you in bed but u kinda whine cuz u dont want him to leave:.... *rots and dies* im sorry if this is so wordy LMAO n e ways love yr blog!!!!! :) <3

hiii I really hope you like this 🥺 @twoheadedboypt2

- -

My head was fuzzy, a noise filled my ears like rushing waves; I was stupid drunk. Deciding it was finally time to try and walk though, I pushed myself away from the kitchen counter; stumbling briefly.

Taking my time I wondered through the house ignoring unwanted conversation and trying my hardest not to fall over. Making it to the living room I spotted him sitting on the arm of the couch making everyone around him laugh like he always did.

His eyes lit up when they caught mine.

“Y/N!” He called, waving me over.

Annihilated or not my lips couldn’t help but pull themselves into a smile.

“Hey handsome.” I said, somehow managing not to slur my words.

I wrapped my arms around his neck and sat on his lap. Shifting so that he could hold both of us on the couch arm, his hand held onto my hip.

“You uh...good Y/N?” He asked, his breath against my ear causing goosebumps.

I pulled away a bit and raised an eyebrow. It was getting harder to pretend I was “sober”.

“I am fineeee Magee.” I booped his nose, “Are you?”

A smirk pulled at his lips, the grip he had on my hip tightening. He knew I was fucked up, his sudden concerned expression making it harder to lie.

Ryan had seen me fucked up plenty of times, always playing the part of my knight in shining armor and coming to my rescue. I don’t know how he wasn’t sick of me by now.

“Okay fine, I’m fucked up.” I whimpered with a pout.

Ryan laughed, sliding me off of him gently. Standing, he held me in place.

“You want me to drive you home?” He said over the music.

I nodded as a sting of embarrassment touched my cheeks. I hated when Ryan had to play babysitter.

Saying our goodbyes, he then lead me from the house with my hand tightly in his.

By the time we got to (and into) my place I was ready to keel over.

“Y/N let’s go, your room is literally 2 feet away.” Ryan groaned when I stopped to “rest” on my couch.

Pouting again I tried to find words of protest but failed, yawning instead. Ryan rolled his eyes at my silence and stomped towards me.

“Y/N seriously get.up.”

Ryan trying to scold me was hilarious for some reason, a small chuckle escaping my throat followed by a hiccup. He scoffed and before I knew it he was lifting me up and over his shoulder.

“Oh Ryan!” I cried, too drunk to really resist. “Come on I could’ve walked.”

Ignoring me he continued to my room. Eventually my back met with the mattress, Ryan standing over me; examining me.

“Well.” I slurred wiggling “seductively” on my bed.

Ryan gave me a suspicious look, earning another smile from me.

“You wanted me in here so bad, aren’t you gonna help ya girl out?” I provoked, hinting at him taking my clothes off for me.

Ryan once again rolled his eyes and sighed.

“Jesus christ Y/N I fucking hate you sometimes.”

Hesitating, he walked towards me. I was going to fuck with him and call him a perv but the thought of Ryan undressing me held any smart comment I could make in the back of my throat. I observed quietly as he confidently undid the button of my jeans, slowly sliding them downward. Lifting my shirt up and over my head, his eyes then found themselves transfixed on my chest.

“Ryan.” I pretended to scold him.

Quickly shaking any inappropriate thoughts away, he threw an oversized tshirt at me like a dodgeball.

“Alright.” He said once I crawled under my blankets, “Are you good now?”

He was closer to my door than I had wanted.

“Ryan?” I said, my voice like a whiny child.

“Y/N?” He replied folding his arms over his chest.

“Will you stay with me?”

I wasn’t sure if it was the alcohol or the way Ryan once again went out of his way to take care of me, but I was feeling...soft...cuddly? His expression of disbelief was somewhat unsettling, making me instantly regret my suggestion.

“A-are you su-....like in the same bed? Are you sure?”

I guess I had caught him off guard, but I couldn’t help but giggle at his sudden nervousness.

“Ryan you stripped me half naked but sleeping in bed with me is what freaks you out?” I joked shaking my head in amazement.

Without a word he rolled his eyes and made his way to my bed. Undressing to his boxers he then stood next to the bed in silence. Laughing again I slid over to give him some room.

“Come on big boy.” I teased patting the empty space, “Make baby happy.”

Turning away from him and onto my side, I felt him finally get in. I was worried I was going to have to ask him to cuddle but before I could even process how to go about it, his arm snaked it’s way over my waist and his body pressed against my back. Snuggling into him more, I could finally close my eyes.

“Thanks for taking care of me...again.” I said, drifting off to sleep.

Squeezing me tighter, his lips met the back of my head.

“Anything for the precious little baby.”

#requests #request #ryan magee fic #matt and ryan #ryan magee imagine #ryan magee oneshot #ryan magee x reader #ryan magee #supermega oneshot #supermega x reader #supermega imagine #supermega #supermega fic

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onelastsho-t · 4 years ago

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Signing Off, 05/02/2021

“Letting go is the easy part. It’s the moving on that’s painful. If I were to go back in time, there are a lot of things I will choose to change. But in the end, I will always choose you, over everything else.”

It has been almost half a year since we completely stopped talking to each other. No form of communication, at all. It happened so fast yet so gradually. We went from talking non-stop everyday to zero communication.

During this period of time, there isn’t a day where I stopped thinking about you. There are countless days where I almost wanted to drop you a text but it never happened. I still have our picture in my wallet and whenever I feel defeated by life, I look at it to give me some strength to carry on. You are still so alive in my head and in my heart. You are still, sometimes, the first thought I have when I wake up in the morning.

I think of you when I am commuting and passed by some places where we used to hang out. When I listen to songs such as “Yellow Lights”, “Us” and a lot more, especially “You Complete Me”. I still remember how you sang this song to me and it still warms my heart so much. When I go to a nice restaurant and the food taste great because you are such a glutton. When I watch a nice series on Netflix which I know you will definitely like. When I see cute dogs on the streets knowing you will shriek and wanting to pet them. Sometimes I just stare into space without any thoughts and you will just appear out of nowhere. All these thoughts always make me smile. The thought of you always makes me smile.

I wonder a lot if you think about me too.

I still wish we didn’t have to go separate ways. But I understand that’s what was best for us at that point in time. You had too much on your plate and I had so much frustration with the situation I didn’t know how to handle it myself. I understand you did what was best for us and I think that’s the way you chose to love me. You saw what I couldn’t see. And for that - please know that I will always be grateful to you. For being so brave and for choosing this path to allow us both to heal properly.

I will never be as brave as you. And maybe that’s why you will always be one of the strongest person I will know. Maybe the fact of you being so stubborn is good in this regard. You never give up no matter how tough the road ahead is. You never even flinch. You just continue marching on and choosing to fight the battle, even when you had to do it alone. I am so fucking proud of you and I will never stop saying that.

I wish I wasn’t so afraid to wish you a proper “happy birthday” last year. I think love always makes me do stupid things. I recorded and uploaded a 25-minutes long video just to wish you a happy birthday weeks before 2 November 2020. But in the end, the video was never made known to you or to anyone. I even went to the Apple store wanting to pick up an Apple Watch for you because I know you have always wanted it. I replayed a lot of scenes in my head - how will you react? Will it stress you out? Is this doing more harm than good? It’s such a stupid idea. It was a tough battle and then at some point I realised I had no place in doing all of these. So, in the end, nothing was said and all these will forever remain as scenes played in my head.

I think after all these time, you still care for me in your own way. Maybe watching my Instagram stories is one of the ways to let me know you still care, or maybe not. Maybe it’s all in my head. I don’t know and I think maybe I won’t ever know.

To me, it doesn’t really matter that much anymore if you will ever get to read all these posts. Because I know, you are slowly achieving your goals. All I ever really wanted was for you to be happy and to have your inner peace. And I know you will have all that - slowly but surely. Remember? You appear to be happier and truth to be told, I am so so so happy for you. My heart still gets this tingling feeling whenever I see you smile and that’s when I know I will take a very very long time to get over you completely. Why do you still melt my heart?

Never thought you will have such an impact on someone right? You do. You are such an amazing person and I hope you will never stop telling yourself that. You brought me so much peace and happiness among the chaos. You taught me how to love myself better. And the list goes on. So please do know that you are not a bad person for hurting me because I know I hurt you too. It didn’t matter who hurt who and how much who fell short, a relationship is a choice to commit and I love you, that’s why everything else didn’t matter. There’s always bound to be hurt in a relationship and I quote the song “The Black and White” - call it what you need, but don’t blame yourself for me.

You are so special and don’t you dare for one second think you are not. You are so precious. You always make me want to take care of you no matter how strong you appear to be because I know deep down, you are not. I ended up hurting you even though you are truly the last person I would ever want to hurt. I've always always wanted to protect you from this world, from anyone who wants to or who will hurt you. You will always be that special person in my heart holding that special place. And you will always be worthy, no matter how bad a person you think you are. Just so you know, you were never the bad person in my story and you never will be. Maybe I will forever have this regret of letting you get away but as long as I know you are doing well, everything’s going to be fine.

I will probably always carry this hope of you coming back, no matter how much time has passed.

But for now, maybe this is the last thing I can give to you and also to myself. I forgive the long distance. I forgive the lack of communication. I forgive the pandemic for taking away the last chance I had to spend quality time with you. I forgive myself, I forgive us. Most importantly, I forgive you.

I will always choose to forgive you because this lifetime is too short. Even though we were together for 2.5 years, I still feel like I wasn’t given enough time with you. I could have spent forever looking at you and not get bored because you will always find ways to either make me roll my eyes hard or laugh real hard. I could have spent forever getting lost in your eyes and the warmth of your hugs. I could have spent forever getting to know you - each and every version of you throughout this lifetime.

But I know for now, greater things are waiting for you to achieve. I hope you will continue to be you. Never let anyone and any thoughts of not being good enough bring you down. Continue growing, continue scaling greater heights and continue fighting life. The future will always be daunting, perhaps it will overwhelm you and leave you doubting yourself. But please don’t ever give up, okay? Take a break when you are tired and continue to soldier on. I will continue to work hard and aim to achieve more too. And I can’t wait to hear good news about you in the future. I know I will be so happy for you for finally getting into the place in life where you always wanted and deserved. You deserve happiness more than anyone else.

We might never talk to each other again. Today could have been our 1000th day together. You are not mine anymore but I'm still a little bit yours. And I know after all these months, it’s probably time for me to move on from us. It’s time for me to move on from you. It was a privilege to love you, and it was a privilege to let you go. You are a tough act to follow but I gotta follow through.

I will try my best not to scream in my head “cute” or “beautiful” the next time I see your picture on social media. I will try not to pause for a short while the next time I come across your profile because trust me, I still do. If you happen to read this someday down the road, please just know that I still care so much for you but I think this is the best I can do for you. I will always care for you in my own way. I will always keep you so close to my heart.

I still love you and I am aware that I am still very in love with you. But I know if you felt the same way, you would have spoken to me because the ball has always been in your court ever since we stopped talking.

Maybe someday we will meet again as better versions of ourselves and the time will finally be right for us.

But for now, as of this moment, here’s me signing off from this platform and taking baby steps to move on from you. It will take a lot of self-awareness, a lot of effort and a whole lot of time. Maybe I will spend this lifetime moving on from you. Or maybe I won’t ever move on from you but I know I gotta try.

I don’t know what is waiting ahead of this road but I know, you will always be living somewhere inside of my heart and this I promise - nobody can ever take away.

If along the way you meet someone who treats you well, from the bottom of my heart - I truly wish you well and I hope the person will know how to cherish and love you because you deserve all the good in this world.

Please don’t tolerate bullshit again, okay? Don’t be stupid hor please (so singlish on Tumblr I know but it’s ok no more aesthetic after all these wordy posts). Grow up already so must know how to protect yourself please. Don’t be so stubborn also. I know your love hate relationship with cats but please do not get your allergy triggered by petting them especially at your void deck. Stock up more cooling water at home in case of emergency headache or fever. Also try not to scratch the spot on your head whenever you are in deep thoughts if not later really become baldy (HAHA)!! And lastly, avoid your black hole at all costs. I repeat - avoid at all costs. If you ever fall into it, just know that those thoughts are not real and get out of that place asap, okay?

Go be weird, go be you, go conquer your demons and the world. I'm so thankful I met you in this lifetime you have no idea.

Important things must say thrice:

I will always miss you and I will always love you. All ways. I will always miss you and I will always love you. All ways. I will always miss you and I will always love you. All ways.

Till we meet again, take care.

Signing off, Jes

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stachestachestache · 5 years ago

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600 Celebration: Arrival

Summary: Alpha!Chris (from The Martian) helps you through the labor of your pup. It’s my first time writing something in the A/B/O universe so please be gentle and don’t expect too much lol.

Somehow 600 of you decided my weirdness is fun to follow so I’m writing a series with six installments to commemorate this milestone, cuz why not? Thank you for following and being part of this community with me. I really do enjoy being on here and being insane with each and every one of you. This is the third installment of the series!

Word Count: 1406…

Warnings: Labor and birth (have i been listening and watching too many podcasts and videos on motherhood and childbirth? probably, but here goes.) Also tons of fluff!

A/N: Really trying out some writing and stuff. Feedback is always appreciated.Continuing with the dad!Bucky theme just cuz I love it.

Chris knew it was coming even before it began.

It was his intuition that made him such a good doctor and probably part of the reason why he was chosen to go into space. Those intergalactic voyaging days are behind him now, having married and settled down. He thought the allure of space would forever haunt him but after meeting you, he quickly realized the entirety of his universe is contained in the love you have for one another.

Only a few weeks after the wedding, Chris began to notice a subtle shift in your scent, barely there and unnoticeable to the untrained nose. A rosy texture forged with your usual lavender aroma that you either weren’t aware of or chose not to address.

“Do you smell that?” he asked you, after a week, when the smell had persisted. You were both getting ready for work; as professors at the same university, you took one car every morning and parted ways at the entrance with a quick kiss -- him, ambling off the the sciences and you to the humanities (Chris never expected to fall in love with the wordy philosophy professor, but life is good at throwing curve balls at him).

“Smell what?” you had answered incredulously.

The pieces suddenly clicked in your alpha’s mind -- “We need to see your doctor.”

Now, nine months out from that day, Chris could tell your pup’s arrival was fast approaching. Better than anyone else, he could see the minute changes in your body, ones that you even barely registered sometimes in the face of all the other discomforts of pregnancy.

You stubbornly refused to take a year-long sabbatical, teaching through your first two trimesters before hunkering down and agreeing to take a break from teaching and continue your research from home. When you finally sent in your request for leave, Chris felt a sense of relief wash over him. It brought him a sense of security to know you were in the safety and comfort of your own home, rather than walking around a large university campus, dealing with the stress of students and grading.

While he continued teaching, the leniency of the job allowed him to spend a lot of time by your side, caring and watching over you like the protective alpha he is. Although it annoyed you at first, eventually you relented to Chris’ protective ways, staying mostly in the house, leaving house chores to him (which you often whined about because of his sub-par cleaning abilities) and never lifting anything that weighed over 5 lbs.

It was exhausting and there were moments when you wanted to scream at Chris, but any time he saw the fire light in your eyes, he would quickly smother it with sweet kisses and purrs; he used your increased craving for affection to his advantage, often nosing your scent gland and marking on your neck to calm you down. It was nice and infuriated you and you never hesitated to let Chris know as much, even as you were wrapped up in his arms, under several layers of blankets.

As the pregnancy progressed, your instinct to create the perfect nest became more and more pronounced. After coming home from classes, Chris would often find you on the floors of your house, scrubbing away at nonexistent grime. When it came time to assemble the nursery, the scientist walked in to a room stacked with so many comforters, pillows and blankets, he was sure you had bought out your local Bed, Bath and Beyond. It was frightening and endearing all at once. It took over a week for you both to properly scent them in preparation for your pup.

Chris was certain he had maxed out on his love for you, that his body and mind were incapable of feeling any more affection for his omega. You are his everything. His heart is so intertwined with yours, he often forgets where he begins and you end. Chris didn’t know two separate lives could meld together the way yours and his did. It wasn’t easy and there were definitely bumps along the way but it all made sense.

But as your body and child grew, so did Chris’ feelings. Even as a doctor, who understood on the molecular and biological level, everything that was happening, he was amazed and astonished at your strength and courage, what you and your body was capable of. You were so precious and his top priority in life was always to protect you, and now, also your child.

Even before you both climbed into bed, Chris knew tonight was the night. You kept repeating like a mantra that you still had three weeks, but Chris could feel it in his gut. He debated whether even to sleep, but at your insistence, he crawled in with you and shut his eyes. He awoke several hours later to your whimpering, low and quiet but filled with distress. It set all his alpha instincts on high alert.

When he saw and felt your belly harden and soften under the blankets in a scarily rhythmic pattern, he got to work packing your bags and preparing the car. Strangely enough, you were still asleep, riding through the contractions barely conscious.

When he finished loading the car, you were finally awake and in tears, kneeling on the floor and grasping the bedsheets after having tried to get out of bed.

“Where were you?” he felt chills run down his spine at your tone, rushing over to help you out of bed.

“Prepping the car to go, let me help you into some clothes and we can get to the hospital,” he tried to say as calmly as he could. He was whispering for some reason.

Chris could see it coming, but he never anticipated how fast it could be.

“I won’t make it to the car; I’m not going to make it to the hospital,” you could feel the pain searing through your body, the urge to expel this new human out from you and into the new world was overwhelming.

Chris began to panic, but tried to keep it under control as to not startle you more.

“It’s okay, we’re okay, I’ll figure it out. You’re going to be okay. The pup is gonna be okay...”

It was all a jumbled mess of words falling out of his mouth as he tried to remember the time he spent in the maternity ward during his residency. Running to maneuver you back onto the bed, he told you he would be right back as you whimpered again in distress. When he checked on your progress, he realized how close you both were to meeting your little bundle of joy.

“Excited to meet us huh? Couldn’t wait for the hospital???” Chris murmured under his breath as he rushed around. He had a feeling this early and hasty arrival would just be a taste of what new life with their pup was going to be... fast and unexpected.

He grabbed blankets, scissors and shoe laces, started a pot of water boiling on the stove before rushing back to your bedroom when a scream cut through the silence of your house.

“He’s coming now, Chris, get the fuck back here and help me!”

“He? How do you know it’s a he?” The questions slip out before Chris can stop himself.

You meet him with glare of rage and anger when he arrives back into your bedroom, one that frightens the alpha to his core.

“YOU! You’re the reason I’m here right now!” Chris tried to ignore the murderous gaze in your eyes as you yanked him to you by the collar, screaming in his face from the pain.

From that moment onward, it was like attempting to reach the crescendo of a beautiful, but cacophonous song. At moments, it felt like you would never reach it.

“One last push baby, he’s almost here.”

With one last exertion of energy, a tiny tiny wail sounded in your ears. Chris quickly worked to cut the umbilical cord before lifting your child onto your chest... he heaved a sigh and took a moment to just stare at mother and child before he was hit with the overwhelming reality that he’s a father.

Again, his affection grows tenfold and when he comes to from his journey through his mind, he sees you staring at him, tears, this time of joy and love, sliding down your cheeks. You beckon him over and for the first time, as a family of three, cuddle on the bed.

#alpha!chris #chris beck #the martian #sebastian stan #chris beck fanfic #chris beck fanfiction #chris beck x you #bucky barnes #bucky barnes fanfiction #chris beck x reader #sebastian stan fanfic #chris beck au #dad!chris beck #dad!bucky #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes au #stache's 600 celebration

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menalliha · 6 years ago

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Take my Soul to Rest

Summary: After hours of countless torture and suffering abuse, the brothers come to your rescue. Dean isn’t happy with the results. This is part 2 to Dancing with Demons.

Pairing: Dean x Plus Size!Reader

Warning: Violence, abuse, degrading, mentions of blood as well as implied smut.

Word Count: 2033 (Cause I decided to be wordy)

A/N: I had some fun writing this part. I’ve been in a bad mindset and felt angsty. But I hope you enjoy this part. The first part was linked as well!

MY MASTERLIST

PLEASE LIKE AND REBLOG! FEEDBACK ALSO MAKES MY DAY!!

What time was it? You knew it was either early morning or still late at night. Either way, your head was pounding and your body screamed as cuts and blood streamed down your arms and valley of fat you called a stomach.Your wrists bore cuts from you trying to escape the restraints of the chair. Your shirt was ripped open and now drenched in blood, your bra straps falling down your shoulders. The demon in front of you not giving up till you tell him where your brother is. You were mentally begging him to just kill you.

“I swear sweetheart, you scream and I will slit your throat.” He pressed the blade to your throat and smirked wickedly. “This can go all night. Your precious Dean won’t save you. He’s in denial. He loved kissing that girl. Took his mind off of you. The fat bitch that just follows him around and is an easy lay.” He ran the blade down your throat and across the anti possession tattoo above your heart and over your plump cleavage.

You cried harder and squealed through the gag in your mouth as he pricked the sharp tip of the blade into your skin. It was mild compared to the other cuts you have gained from him. You looked up at him with pleading eyes.

“Maybe I should take this and cut some of that extra fat off of you. Make you a real looker. Lift your breasts some and a little more fat on your ass and he’ll gladly take you around. Fuck you in public places.” He was trying to mentally and physically break you. Both were sadly working.

He placed the blade against your side and slowly dragged it down from just under your armpit to your hip. The sensation burnt, the blood was warm as it poured from the cut. You squeezed your eyes shut and stifled a scream. You felt the room spin and yourself slipping in and out on consciousness. He sat on the bed and just stared at you in front of him. Tied and gagged to a chair in a disheveled state. Physically broken and one more insult from mentally being broken.

Dean sat against the headboard of the bed and flipped through tv channels. Sam sat at the small table on his laptop, to emeroused in what he was reading.

“Think she’s cooled off yet?” Dean tossed the remote to the end of the bed and tossed his legs over the side. Leaning forwards, he stood slowly and stretched his legs.“I just have this bad feeling.”

Sam looked up from the screen. “That you fucked up and realized what was at stake? That there’s a possibility she probably left to be with her family instead?”

“Fine Sammy! But you know she kissed me! I tried to pull away but the alcohol took control!” Dean ran his hands through his short locks and quickly turned his head towards the thin motel wall.

Sam watched as his older brother pressed his face against the wall. “Wanna tell me what your doing…? I was joking. She’s still here. Stop being a creep and give her some space.”

Dean waved his hand and his eye narrowed. “Either she as the tv too loud or someone is with her. She never brought anyone home nor did she at any point open her door. I thought I heard someone talking for the last few hours.”

The brothers looked at each other for a split second. Their eyes matched each others. They had a strong feeling who was over there with you. They quickly rushed around the room and dug through their bags.

The demon chuckled as he removed the gag from your mouth. You breath ragged and faint. Your ability to stay coherent was slowly slipping away and your eyes grew heavy. You lost a lot of blood and was still losing more.

He pressed the blade against your cheek and pressed his forehead to yours. “This is you broke. Bleed like a pig and having shattered dreams. It makes me so happy to see a Y/L/N like this thanks to me.” Pressing the blade harder, you felt it started to break the skin. “I am keeping to my promise. I could make this worse and just use you to pleasure my sexual needs. Really make you feel like a broken useless whore. But this could all end if you just tell me where your damn brother is.” He yelled through his teeth.

A bang on the door startled you both. “Hey Y/N! Everything ok? You haven’t tried to called or came over. I uh... I ordered some pizza. I know your probably hungry.” The voice belonged to Dean. “I’m worried about you princess. I know tonight wasn’t our best but it wasn’t our worst. But…” He started but stopped for a second. You heard whispered but couldn’t make them out.

The demon removed the knife from your face and stared at the door for a second. “They don’t suspect a thing do they?” He looked at you and smirked.

The door busted open and Sam and Dean rushed in. Their guns raised and the demon blade in Sam’s possession. They both let out an audible gasp when they saw you. Your head hung low while blood ran down your cheek, your hair stuck to your face and while your tips where caked in your own blood. Your whole body covered in cuts, your once sun kissed skin was turning pale from the lack of blood you had. You eyes were sunken in and were turning dull.

Dean clenched his jaw and saw the demon. “What did she ever do to you? She’s just an innocent girl.”

The demon smirked. “I have a bone to pick with her brother. She’s the only one who knows where he is. She kept refusing so I used my tactic. To break her. Use her greatest weakness against her.”

Dean knew your greatest weakness was how you felt about yourself. He spent months fixing your broken walls and he would happily do it again. But after he murdered his asshole.

He grabbed the demon by his shirt and slammed him against the wall. “Using a girls insecurities against her isn’t a tactic! It’s abuse! Nothing is stopping me from grabbing the demon blade and plunging it through your heart!” His usually calm green eyes were filled with anger and hatred. This filthy demon touched what was his and ruined her. He was going to make this demon pay. “How would you like it if I tied you up and tortured you? With holy water and knicks from the demon blade, huh?” Sam slipped the blade in his hand and turned his attention to you.

Sam rushed to your side and started to untie your restraints. He lifted your head gently. “Hey Y/N, stay with me. Dean she needs to be rushed to the hospital. She’s lost too much blood.” Sam looked over at his brother. “Either kill him or let him go. We aren’t going to torture him. Y/N needs medical attention.”

Dean stared into the black eyes of the demon and plunged the blade through his chest. Leaving a satisfied grin on his face.

Sam gently cradled you in his arms and rushed you towards the Impala. “Come on now Y/N. We’ve got you. I need you to stay awake for me.” He laid you in the backseat of the car and rested her head on his lap. “Come on…”

“Sammy you drive. I’ll keep her company.” Dean quickly swapped placed with his brother and placed your head in his lap. “Pretty girl… open your eyes for me please. I know you’re hurting and suffering. But I love you.” Dean started to choke on his words and tears streamed down his face. “You… You have done nothing wrong to deserve this kind of pain. We spent years fixing and breaking our walls. I will do everything in my goddamn power to make you whole again.”

Sam drove as fast as he could to the closest hospital. Dean kept his eyes on her face and watched as his tears stained her face. He was remembering all the good times with her. The one that stuck the most was their first time in the back of Baby. Despite her shyness and hating her body, Dean made it all dissolve and showed her was she was really made it. It was when you finally saw what Dean saw. After countless hours of making you scream his name and kissing every inch of your body, you finally accepted you were loved by him.

He always looked past the few extra pound you had. Your eyes were beautiful and took his breath away when you looked in his direction. The way your face lit up when you laughed and smiled. The way your breasts jiggle when you laugh. All things he loved about you that made you who you were.

Once they arrived to the hospital, you were taken away from them and had countless tests ran and your injuries taken care of. When they brought you back to a room where the boys never left your side. Dean slept in a chair against your side and Sam slept on the small couch in the room.

You slowly opened your eyes and looked over at Dean’s resting face. Lifting your hand slowly, you caressed his cheek with the back of your hand. His eyes fluttered and his lashed brushed against his cheek. He always looked most peaceful when he was asleep. The sight of his face laying so close to yours made your heart swell. Not once did he or Sam stir. You stared at both the boys and smiled to yourself.

Quickly the events of the night played in your head. The fight with Dean then the demon torturing you. You covered your mouth and cried silent sobs, your body violently shook.

The hurtful words of the demon replayed in your head. You tried hard to shake them away but it didn’t work. They kept repeating and repeating and repeating.

Dean woke up suddenly and saw the state you were in. He quickly lifted your head and wiped the tears away. “Hey there pretty girl. So glad your ok. The demon is gone. I killed him. I swear I will do whatever I can to help you again. I did it once, I have the patience to do it again. You are my world Y/N. Whatever that demon told you was to break you and ruin you. I’m sorry we weren’t faster.”

You took his right hand in yours. You ran a finger over the bandage. “What happened Dean…?”

He didn’t jerk his hand away or even get upset. “I punched the wall. Hurt my hand pretty bad. I was mad and upset. Everything you went through that whole night… I should have stayed by your side.”

You gently held his face in your hands and place a chaste kiss on his lips. “You’re forgiven Dean. We all make mistakes. I can tell in your eyes how sorry you are. No you shouldn’t have made out with another girl… but we all do crazy stupid things.”

“You forgive me to easily. I don’t deserve you pretty girl.” He smiled and pressed his forehead to yours. “I’m just glad you didn’t get revenge on me.”

Sam sat up slowly and groaned. “This is very uncomfortable… How come you get the better one Dean?”

“My girlfriend. My spot.”

Sam rolled his eyes and scoffed. “I’m glad to see you two getting along and that Y/N is better and awake. Also as his eye witness, the girl came onto him. He tried telling her he had a girlfriend.”

You smile and nod. “Thank you Sam. We’ve already looked past that now. Hearing you vouch for him makes it even better.” You lay your head on Dean’s shoulder and felt him play with your hair.

Soon you drifted off into another deep sleep. Dean kissed your forehead and smiled. “Get some rest pretty girl.”

#spn #supernatural #supernatural fic #sam #dean #sam winchester #dean winchester #dean x reader #dean x you #spn fic

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rheth-sheth · 8 years ago

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Lmao omg, yeah I have three cats actually. We have Dusty, Sasha and Olive and they’re all really great and I love them. I take the most pictures of Olive bc the other two are just black voids of fluff unless the lighting is right.

#wordies #idk if anyone cares about me posting things #but this blog is 85% cats anyway #so why not share my kitties #olive is my baby #my precious pretty baby #I love the others a ton too but Olive stole my heart

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homestuckhomestuckhomestuck · 7 years ago

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Summary of Homestuck fandom after [S] Cascade.

(2011) Homestuck as a general phenomenon was very active and developed at a swift pace from the time it was published (2009) onwards, especially in 2012-2013, including and past the first years of the Homestuck Kickstarter Project, a.k.a Hiveswap.

Between 2009 and 2012, Homestuck as a webcomic was infamous for updating daily, constantly, multiple times a day, at all hours, for years. There was a calculated average that Homestuck updated 5.5 pages per day, dropping entire bundles of updates of character interaction and plot reveals frame by frame, posted as fast as Hussie could write it. Though it wasn’t immediately obvious, this pace was sleeplessly breakneck, Hussie allegedly didn’t do anything but live, breathe and dream Homestuck for at least four years straight. I’m serious when I say updates came at all hours. I would wake up 2am on a week night and idly check MSPA to see if there was a new update, sort of like a trained parrot. Then in five minutes I’d tab back over to the Homestuck tab and refresh, just in case.

This lead to an phenomenon appropriately dubbed “upd8 culture,” which became the basis of the sheer evangelical furor people still associate with the Homestuck fandom. Quick history: MSPA/Problem Sleuth fans originated and migrated over from the Penny Arcade forums, Reddit, and 4chan to nestle permanently within the bowels of 2011 - 2013 tumblr, and were best described from a distance as ‘zealous.’ Even remembering it now almost feels like recalling a distant riot. If you didn’t cosplay, write up a detailed theory post, or scribble up a crazy level of appropriately detailed fanart within 10 or so minutes any given upd8, you were buried under the force of post overload and were officially late to the party. After years of this, fans had some idea of just how dedicated it came off as, which was used to further spur on fandom and made Homestuck into the most meme filled in-joke community you could possibly imagine.

What’s frustrating about describing Homestuck and Homestuck fandom is they both heavily affected each other and were both unique experiences within themselves, which makes actually trying to get across the atmosphere of the early 2010s a wordy process. Homestuck heyday updates regularly crashed tumblr servers, which became an actual fake rss way of seeing how much the plot progressed that day, which is unusual even if the tumblr servers 2011-2013 were not funded by the corporate might of Yahoo. The bigger the update, the faster the crash. I could tell you Homestuck dominated tumblr to the point it had a virulent hatedom of people who had never even read it and constantly saw it and never understood what was happening in it, and fans couldn’t stop themselves from chattering about it all the time. One thing that has to be noted is all this continual bickering and movement and development and competitive content production was honestly fun as hell.

Besides constant updates and a continual stream of new content, the story was completely unpredictable. Game-changing plot twists continued to happen up until the very ending, and while this made Homestuck’s plot happily convoluted, for fans this meant one thing they never lacked for was barely solvable mystery. Even the (fan)artists and (fan)musicians hired to work on Homestuck had to guess what would happen next even if they were part of animating the next update. Under similar principles of an ARG, story presentation was created with the vague expectation fans would work together to explain to each other what just happened.

What this meant in conjunction with Hussie’s oddly accurate tabs on fandom theory was that when an update dropped you had to release whatever you were doing fast, or you would be outdated, wrong, inaccurate, or irrelevant at some undisclosed unspecific time, very soon. Canon and fanon directly pulled from each other, especially in the small character details. The very fact the comic spun on such accurate knowledge of fandom that was purposefully fostered between fandom and canon means that even now reading Homestuck while updating is considered an experience different from an archival read, even though Homestuck was always a self-contained story.

Upd8 culture followed like this: Popular fan theories had multiple fanfictions written on them just to better explain what could happen next, and fan projects from voice acting to art to music to fiction were constantly being corrected, updated, and replaced by a deluge of new information and characters to pore over every single detail with a fandom magnifying glass. An endless amount of hyper ambitious fandom projects, games, animations, multi media fanstories made in rotating teams were abandoned for new starts JUST because the information they were working off became too outdated by the newest few weeks of updates. Cosplays were mocked up in hours (for the next morning of con,) art in minutes, theory in seconds. You threw everything out as fast as you could so someone else could build off of it. It did give a strong impression of collaboration and possibility. As the fandom grew bigger and younger Hussie seemed to shade more politic in his fandom communication, but Homestuck managed to maintain an “open channel” like feeling between fandom and comic for a long time.

Innovative form encouraged innovative output. The point was to create. Another aspect feeding upd8 culture was in the way Homestuck was told. Not only were Homestuck’s detailed plot points hard to predict, but so was what would happen to the site in a meta way. A page could range from a scribble to a 3 hr fully programmed rpg or 18 minute asset heavy style swapping animation, or most commonly, sprite art followed by several hundred words of dialogue and character interaction. Pages came by different artists, different styles, different mediums, different paces and focuses, but with a breadth-spanning understanding of memes and the internet. Factors of style, innovation and novelty affected the diversity of fan output. Part of my extreme willingness to take part in Homestuck fandom was that Homestuck was so crammed to the brim with open ended creative potential, just the multiplicity of cool ideas and plot mechanics and vivid characters and weirdly novel framing that had really good ideas and existed literally nowhere else, and I say that as a huge sci-fi fan. Time travel in Homestuck was excellent. It was an ambitious story and I really do think it pulled it off. Homestuck was once described as the fossilized excrement of someone’s personal creative experiments, and I think that’s a good way of putting it. Enthusiasm and confusing daring teemed off the page, and translated into a wide variety of fanfiction and art, in style, content, theme, and pov.

Lastly, Hussie had a tendency to canonize fan content and hire fanartists and fananimators if their output was solid enough with a gentle horse kiss of approval and a naturally internet-transparent hiring process, like a forum. This was a purposely fostered atmosphere in the spirit of experimental adventure, and was just fucking nuts. Fans never wrote the story, but they did heavily influence aspects of how it was told and where it went (by design, fans were pretty much involved in making the comic) and even get to actually flesh out the details, like the main character’s names, memes, romances, character, and scope. Everything from canon sprite art to bits of the Midnight Crew to Caliborn’s character to Calliope’s art skill to music and trickster arcs were all originally based on years of fan jokes and fandom. Homestuck was definitely Hussie’s sole property and precious baby, but he built it as interactive-ish and creatively as he could. It added an extra layer of galvanizing egging on to fandom purpose. I don’t know how else to explain everything that came of it. Fandom was like a roiling morass of bullshit activity, like a breaking news bullpen 24/7, there was so much energy sparking off of all facets of fandom because it was just so fun. Fan output was borderline insane in 2010-2013.

Hussie said fandom grew exponentially at the introduction of the Trolls in Act 5 in mid 2010, but I can honestly say I think fandom really started treating Homestuck like a hidden gem worth proselytizing right after the events of [S] Cascade at the end of 2011. Before then, Homestuck was tenuously good, and had a rep on tumblr for having weirdly ubiquitous fans and over- detailed fancontent, but [S] Cascade was the moment every single gamble asked of the reader in the story actually paid off. In fact, Homestuck’s plot was generally constructed to climax at [S] Cascade, as was apparent from the big explosion of fan reaction after the fact. At this point, you would be hard pressed to find a fan that wouldn’t say, “Homestuck is good.”

THE KICKSTARTER (2012)

Right after [S] Cascade, a lot of things happened in quick succession. Act 6 started, revealing what endgame would probably look like. It was slated to be shorter than Act 5, envisioned as a kind of denouement. Lord English, the final villain, was revealed. Hussie stated he thought the comic would end the following year. I think Hussie saw the ending was in sight and started trying to merchandise for real at this point, god tier hoodies started releasing at a faster rate, Homestuck book 1 came out (in addition to Problem Sleuth book 3), there was a Homestuck music (and track art) contest announced with hundreds of fan submissions, and the incongruous but hilarious public induction of Dante Basco, Hollywood superstar, who was instantly whisked into the Homestuck fandom’s fold as soon as he formed a tumblr. Homestuck had a bit of a reputation by then so the fandom (+ Hussie) was legitimately trying to woo him gently. This was entertaining for everybody, including Dante Basco. (For those who haven’t gotten that far, Dante Basco is a character in Homestuck.) (As some trivia, Grey DeLisle also briefly made a tumblr in this time, influenced by the instant rapport Dante Basco had, voiced some Vriska lines, then left due to some unrelated but tumblr-typical drama.)

There probably weren’t even specifics on who was going to be programming, illustrating, producing, and writing Hiveswap- and I’m still vaguely convinced Hussie scrolled through Promstuck and then hired deudlyfirearms (Calliope’s official artist) on the spot to illustrate all his future creative endeavors. I know Guzusuru got hired at least partially due to Lullaby for Gods, not to speak in the least for Paperseverywhere or Toastyhat (tumblr usernames used just in case, dril), plus a literal list of artists you could follow through various Homestuck fan production to official product lines. With Hiveswap, Homestuck went from hobby to full time job for some people. But before all that, in 2012 Homestuck as source material was apparently endless and constant, and let’s just say by 2013, Hussie never had to ASK for specific fan content, assets, musicians, artists, programmers, writers, even money. He just had to allow fandom a place, an address, an email, anything, to let them throw it at him. I have actually never seen anything like it, this weird businesslike use of talents within and out of comic. This is why mid 2012 art assets and minigames suddenly start becoming more populous, culminating in the nearly entirely guest art illustrated, programmed, and animated EOA6 and A7 and guest written post-canon snapchats in 2016. (This is also the time the MSPA forums crashed.) Also the art, programming, and music team for Hiveswap seem comprised of former fan musicians and artists.

One thing that’s no concern for Hiveswap: it will be was beautifully illustrated, scored, and animated by people who loved Homestuck.

In sum: 2012 Homestuck was in full swing. Homestucks flooded cons, more than usual, to such a volume of painted gray tweenagers that cons in general (and hotels) had to rewrite the rulebooks surrounding such things as panels, photoshoots, and draw meets. MSPA servers were still barely holding up, especially after big upd8s, and were constantly being upgraded. Tindeck made a whole genre tag on their site for Homestuck fanmusic. What Pumpkin and Topatoco couldn’t keep up with demand, everything was constantly out of stock. Staff and even Hussie didn’t announce when new products were released until weeks later because if they did, the entire store server would immediately crash for long periods of time. This remained true even into 2016, apparently. There were homestuck plushes, furniture, tattoos, rooms, board games, video games, cards, dolls, products you wouldn’t even think of– a whole years long scrum about establishing copyright and what could sell where to who. Promstuck was a once-a-year reality in random cities around the US or otherwise. Art Team and Music Team had quick fame gain, I know at least Music Team members could feasibly live off of Homestuck revenue as their day job. Ben Nye grey paint actually sold out before a con, and even to this day any gray paint on amazon will be utterly dominated by troll cosplay reviews. Even small trivially related products like the record of the guy who posted “I’m a Member of the Midnight Crew” on youtube was convinced to list the record on ebay for a couple hundred dollars in a sprightly fan bidding war. This was completely unremarkable at the time.

The most interesting thing about Homestuck is that it was a) entirely spread by grassroots efforts and word of mouth, and b) a free webcomic. Though unlike the T.V syndicated and advertised shows like Sherlock or Dr. Who or anime, or the multi-billion dollar industries of Marvel or Nintendo, with nearly zero effort to be anything but weird and internet obscure, Homestuck seemed just as bafflingly popular and literally impossible to avoid as professionally advertised hollywood blockbusters, popular anime, television serial shows, and multi million video games, at least on tumblr, reddit, and 4chan, and conventions. Because of all the factors that went into it’s circuitous development, if you hadn’t read through a huge chunk of Homestuck, you wouldn’t even understand and you couldn’t even properly explain why such a niche but undeniable popularity existed. It was such a phenomenon.

People who had (reasonably) never even heard of Homestuck would stumble upon a fandom antic and observe with growing confusion the busy masses hard at work. Bright blue horse dildo fundraised and sent dutifully to creator? (At least three different dildos on 3 different social media homestuck fan sites were fundraised publicly.) Gruesome artwork of puppet fetish websites carefully placed with pages of critiqued meta with way too much attention? Even the usual deluges of upd8 fanart and fantheory? Entire forum sites and rp sites and chat clients enthusiastically founded just for the constant need to discuss the story? Homestuck became recognizable by horns and grey paint and terrifyingly huge meetups, a nearly frantic aura and art meets or prom dances just for fans - “What the fuck is Homestuck?!” became a fandom catchphrase, because it was always being commented on. Tbh, Homestuck is the r rated precursor for Undertale in memetic inclination and story framing style. Memes, man.

And in the midst of this, in September 2012, Hussie suddenly announced a Homestuck Video Game Kickstarter. The long awaited scalemate plushes were introduced as a reward tier. And unexpectedly, a lavishly illustrated ostensibly Kickstarter exclusive Homestuck tarot deck by popular fanartists as one of the reward tiers.

For context: The entire premise of Homestuck is that it was a transcribed gaming session of a video game that didn’t exist. Opening a Homestuck Video Game Kickstarter was a fitting sequel, the equivalent of waving an 8th book prequel in front of Harry Potter fans, as illustrated by the cream of the crop, if every previous iteration of the Harry Potter series was also free. In addition, the goal was $700,000, and Homestuck had over 2 million online fans. There wasn’t a question if $700,000 was going to be feasible as a funding goal, it was more a question of how far the fandom could goad itself into trying to overshoot it. In fact, I remember being kind of disappointed we didn’t reach 3 million. We capped just below 2.5 million including the paypal donations. Homestuck started making “official” waves in news articles and such, of people who noticed a completely incomprehensible kickstarter got a lot of money somehow, and this in addition to the typically update culture-fast result (the funding goal was reached in about 30 hours of a month long campaign,) was regarded as very bizarre by everyone who didn’t know what Homestuck was.

Trivia: there was even a $10,000 tier introduced as a joke, where “your fantroll will become canon (for one panel, and then die),” which was hastily closed after two people actually took it. (One was an army vet who thoroughly enjoyed the story and basically wanted to donate as thanks, and the other has remained impressively anonymous.) First time I saw Hussie publicly searching for words. I really could say 2012 Homestuck was approaching some kind of mania. Considering how Homestucks were, if someone named their firstborn off a Homestuck character, I wouldn’t have been shocked. The game was funded.

Homestuck hiatus’ started in earnest. This was due to the increased production schedule of both the Kickstarter game being punted into development, the troubled indie game development cycle, and more detailed HTML5 games (openbound) in the comic, and product production, which is, you know, was fair enough. Updates were frequent enough to keep fandom active and frothy well into 2013, where the lack of Game Updates in conjunction with comic hiatus’ were both uncharacteristic and concerning.

Homestuck was abruptly shifted off of regular upd8 schedules, and upd8 notifiers were sadly put to rest.

HIATUS FANDOM (2013-2014)

Here was a unique factor of 2013 Homestuck fandom, for the lack of content, fandom moved en masse to an alternative ‘hiatus fandom,’ in some kind of effort to keep together over the wait. This literally singlehandedly boosted the popularity of games like OFF, Dangan Ronpa, etc. Homestuck hiatus fans were already pro at boosting popularity through word of mouth, and these obscure-but-popular video games were fun to pimp in the meantime. A more recent, toned down example would be 17776.

Here was also something weird. In December 2013 Hussie apparently (as creative director only) had some kind of mysterious would-be trial run with Shiftylook with Namco ips, resulting in Namco High, the Homestuck and Namco character dating sim, where you could date Davesprite (who had a surprising amount of meta character development,) Terezi, Pacman, and Galaga. It was so out of nowhere nobody knew what to do with it. It was an indication of what Homestuck as a franchise was probably going to expand into, though, and an intriguing move on the part of Bandai.

In the comic hiatuses and throughout the roadblocked kickstarter game development, canon-side, the Paradox Space quasi-canon side project and WeLoveFine (later ForFansByFans, who took over merchandising,) continued on the spirit of fandom support- notably the original Art Contest to make new merch- now streamlined into a “fan forge” where any fan can go through a voting process to say, pitch a new product and later be hired on the most recent calendar, then show up working a new Friendsim.... etc.

After this a new generation of internet fans appeared to ‘notice’ Homestuck, hearing it was ending, and joined in, making the Kickstarter garner a kind of shadowed conspiracy-riddled rumortale more than anything, which really outstripped the simplicity of what happened: hardworking but troubled development.

The End of Homestuck was hanging like the sword of Damocles over our collective motivations, you can still find mournful farewell Homestuck fanart floating around to this day! In fact, the fandom believed it was the End of Homestuck several times in 2014-2015. Fandom was tamping down on the corners, cleaning up fanart (relatively), tucking away the crazily ambitious scifi world spanning AU fic. The wild, raw creativity that used to be so rampant through all corners of the internet seemed vaguely diminished, tidier, more understandable, trackable, and efficient. Big Projects never showed their roughs and drafts until the final products anymore, small circles of discourse popped up in pretty polite language and with almost no capslock. The discussions weren’t on What Hussie Would Pop On Us This Time To Overhaul The Entire Plot Of Homestuck, it was more like, did he make the gay Gay Enough™? Vriscourse remained eternal, though.

And it isn’t just nostalgia talking. I’ve noticed some Homestucks still think fandom is a rush of collective community like they’ve never before experienced, that upd8 celebrations are pretty dang wild, and Homestuck convention presences are well-established, but now? In 2015-2017? This is calm and active, there are still some cool projects going on, but nothing like the insanity that was associated with Homestuck. Homestuck was the ‘biggest’ fandom I’ve ever been in, in terms of sheer forced commiseration and activity, and it just has not reached anything close to the levels of 2011-2013 bullshittery and spark plugs.

But the fandom is still present- people treat it like a phase, but Homestuck is still a clever story that retains all the aspects that attracted readers to it in the first place. Also, the fandom still regularly accomplishes minor feats of economics like this even in 2016:

because that is the level of fan fervor that Homestuck inspires, forever, apparently.

I’d last like to note I’ve skipped a lot, I tried to keep it as zoomed out and as general as possible. I’d like to explain the true foibles of 2013 Homestuck fandom, such as the forced formation of entire rp websites, apps, programs, and platforms dedicated to fanning Homestuck more efficiently, how fans formed new mediums and literal ways of expression and vast organized contests on how to express themselves and collaborate better, how there was almost a fan project-pipeline system in place, and how exactly Homestuck influenced Undertale (think of the meta) and an entire mini generation of webcomics and tv show story boarders spiritually, and I haven’t even tried to explain the aspects of Homestuck’s use of framing and how genuinely interesting it is from a storytelling perspective, and how the interaction of Hussie and the fandom and serial updates affected people’s connectivity because out of scope.

...But just for posterity and context of update culture: Quoth Gankro, programmer:

So the biggest thing to keep in mind with MSPA is that it's based entirely off of collaboratively riffing off eachother's ideas. It started out as a faux text-based adventure where people would post prompts, and Andrew would take the ones he liked and riff off of them. As far as I'm concerned this is Andrew's super power: the ability to take a pile of things (comments, art, music, ideas, people) and rapidly recombine them into amazing things. The chatlogs in Homestuck full of amazing back and forths? That's just what talking to Andrew in chat was. Constant riffing and feedback loops....

Anyway, this is all to say that the genesis of ideas, and even how things got developed, is honestly really murky with Homestuck? Everything was kinda adhoc, a riff-on-a-riff, and done in incredibly little time....

I can't emphasize this scramble enough. Andrew was a ceaseless content machine, and I don't think I was ever "blocked" on him producing content. Which is ridiculous considering how much content is packed into our games. (like, hundreds of pages of dialogue)

Michael Bowman, music team:

Volume 5 going out of its way to include gobs and gobs of material definitely changed the project; the floodgates opened. I think people admired Andrew's astonishingly prolific pace from 2009 to 2012, and between 2010 and 2011 the music project had the same vibe: we released one or two albums monthly.

-fan interviews courtesy though the efforts of u/drewlinky

Homestuck and it’s fandom has the unique distinction of being nigh unexplainable, as in, it took this long just to fully outline how the Homestuck Kickstarter was always going to be wildly successful, and how development was always going to take years even without the incident with the Odd Gentlemen, who clearly didn’t understand why Homestuck was popular or even why that mattered, (pre- Undertale), in the first place, but with the news of Viz taking on Homestuck’s license on account of that viral-like marketability so now there’s an actual possibility that Homestuck will finally become…… anime, why not hearken back to the good ol days and be relentlessly picayune for the hell of it?

Happy 10/25!

#HAPPY 10/25!#homestuck #hiveswap development is such a saga too #i also didn't talk about specifics of recursive fandom (fans of fans of fans) but wow #2012-2014 #hscom

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lilibug--xx · 6 years ago

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40 questions for fic writers meme: 1, 9, 37 (also I love your fics ❤)

Thank you! 🧡

1) Describe your comfort zone—a typical you-fic.

Hm! A typical me fic would probably include smut, because let’s be honest here – most of my fics have it. But I really like fluff? I’m good at writing cute, cheesy stuff. At least, I think I am. But I’m also good at darkness too? I am most comfortable writing either of those.

9) Which fic has been the hardest to write?

Oh lordy. All of them? Lol. It’s just that sometimes I get intense writers block on certain things and have to switch directions and work on something else until I get the itch for it back.

But as far as actually and wrestling with language and such, Light Came Through – because of the pronouns and amount of hands! Lol.

37) Talk about your current wips.

First of all, I have WAY too many wips. I’m working on cutting this list in half.

lemon drops – I’m trying to work on an update. I think I only have about 4 or 5 chapters left so I’m trying to finish it up before it’s taken me a year to complete because that makes me feel like a DICK. Lol. Because it’s not a super wordy length fic, so it really shouldn’t have taken me this long.

primadonna girl – 2 chapters left on this sweetvee fic. I am trying to finish it up too. I’ve just felt super uninspired to write Veronica because of what was happening in canon with her story line. I’m glad that things have turned around though.

light came through – my precious baby. Things are chugging along over here with no end in sight and a sequel already brewing in my brain. You might have noticed it’s part of a series now. I just can’t stop. They give me all the feels.

secret project – I am hush hush about this because it’s not going to come out for a bit. I’m working on it in between other things because Sarah calls it my “palette cleanser”. But it is dark and twisty and kind of unique and I’m much in love with it.

multiple oneshots – I have issues with commitment, obviously. I’m working on some things for camp bughead and for serpent week of buggie break, as well as some things I promised a long time ago for my 1k giveaway.

SO BASICALLY: I need to write for a million years straight and never ever stop so I can get everything finished, lol.

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hrrytomlinson · 7 years ago

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What is your fic baby? Your precious wordy story child? Your most important firstborn? I need a title, link, and 2.5 paragraph essay

well this is difficult because i have two fic children i love with my whole heart, but for so many different reasons but i’m gonna go with the fic i am the MOST proud of…

The World Still Turns

This fic is everything to me. I wrote it for a MITAM fic, so its a fic surrounded by so many other amazing fics and authors. It was a story that, when writing, inspiration came naturally to me. It was a story that I always wanted to tell (a space au) and it evoked an extreme emotional response I always wanted my readers to feel with my writing. I think it’s my best and highest quality writing I’ve ever published. The storyline feels complete to and I’ve developed the universe so well that I know what happens to them outside of the restraints of the fic. (For example, sometimes when I’m writing I only think about the characters in the story, I don’t think about what happens before/after/the little things in between you don’t see.) With TWST I could write so many drabbles or ficlets just with the little moments I have in my head. I feel the closest to these characters and I feel the most connected with the storyline.

Infinity is my favorite MITAM song and the lyrics are always some of my favorites and I LOVED how flawlessly I incorporated them into the prose and dialogue. There are so many soft moments and sad moments. I had so much fun writing it. I didn’t have to force myself to write it, it came naturally (except the ending, that was a bitch). These scenes are some of the scenes I love the most, but I still dislike some of them. I don’t think I was overly self indulgent in easter eggs and references in this fic like I was in Pour Your Heart Out, but I still appreciate the tiny level of things I interested into the fic just for myself.

I reached a lot of personal goals with The World Still Turns. The word count wasn’t one (I appreciate reading longer fics so I aim to write longer fics), but I said what I needed to say and it just so happens I said it all in 21k – which is quite impressive after all, but still a bit of a let down on the personal side. I really don’t know what else to say because you didn’t ask too many prompting questions ahah but thank you for sending this my way. I am not worthy!! x

#i wonder if anyone will read this #hm #ask #anon #answered #the world still turns

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code404it · 4 years ago

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StruggleCode 101: I’m Bad At Introductions

In the illustrious words of AUSTIN POWERS...“Allow myself to introduce...myself.”

I suppose I could tell “my story” but that could get a little wordy and if you have read any of my blogs, I tend to be on the wordy side.

I’m thinking bullet points with some explanations PRN.(pro re nata)

Let’s see I suppose I can skip to the important stuff like...

I was excited at my kindergarten graduation because of the ‘Precious Moments’ t-shirt I was given and it had “Class of ‘99″ written on it.

For the longest time (in elementary school) I thought I was going to be a gymnast, thanks to MARY LOU RETTON.

I hated my name because in the 80′s the only people named “JESSICA” were Jessica Tandy, Jessica Lange, & Baby Jessica (look her up).

Perhaps I should move things along.

In middle school I just knew I was going to be an OB/GYN and you could not tell me otherwise.

In high school I no longer wanted to be an OB/GYN because I realized it was more involved and delivering babies was only part of the job.

High school was a tough time for me. I had friends and a social life so that was the okay part. My grades were okay. The hard part was when my mother’s abuse went into over drive and in my sophomore year I was removed from my house because my mother tried to kill me. I was too scared to press charges against her, so the police did what I couldn’t do.

I found myself without much input from my mom when I did move back home so I took charge of the rest of my life and in the FALL of my junior year I enlisted in the UNITED STATES ARMY. I had done so well in my JROTC classes (I put in 4 years) I went in as an E-3 and my MOS (military occupational skill) was a COMBAT MEDIC.

Gonna speed up some more.

I ended up getting pregnant at the ripe ol’ age of 19 and I gave birth at the age of 20.

I moved from CALIFORNIA to GEORGIA in my tiny Coral colored Dodge Neon.

I didn’t know I was pregnant when I made the choice to move. For future reference there are only 1,875 days from my 1st child to my last child. At one point in my life I had 4 children under the age 6.

Jobs I had in Georgia before landing in tech:

Selling perfume on the street

Selling Furniture & Mattresses

Nurse

Gym Membership Sales

Red Cross Blood Donation Appointment Setter

E*Trade

Comcast

Self Employed (13 years)

Bartender/Lead Mixologist/Bar Manager/Brand Ambassador/Brand Strategist

Lyft

Shipt

Software Engineer/Full Stack Dev (currently unemployed)

In all of this time I have been...

Married

Divorced

In 2 long term relationships...well 3.

On a quest to be comfortable with me being Bi-Sexual

Getting along better with my mother.

Working on my relationship with my father who was homeless and lived in a PORT ‘O POTTY for years after he helped me move from California, which was only a month after he lost the only man he knew as his father. (there’s really so much to unpack there but I won’t.) He ended up hitchhiking from the MOJAVE DESERT to SAN FRANCISCO, got help and has had a roof over his head for the past 3+ years. Incidentally my father also called me one day an told me I had another sister. I thought she was going to be a toddler...she was actually 24!

Able to purchase a mini van for $2500 after not having a car for 1091 days. Can you imagine that? With 4 kids...sheesh!

Fortunate to get a NEWER car like a 2013 SUV when the mini van died. It wasn’t without incident either. It was the 1st week of the new school year and also the week that I was to give my daughter her SWEET 16.

To move my family out of the apartment complex where we had lived for the better part of a decade and into a house.

To see my oldest daughter graduated from High School

On the receiving end of my oldest son’s diagnosis of Crohn’s Disease. At the time he had lost so much weight. He was 16 years old and weighed 65 pounds. That was with me feeding him every 2 hours. I did my research and took him to the hospital with MY DIAGNOSIS. I knew it was one of two things he either had stomach cancer (for which I was preparing myself for his death) OR it was Crohn’s. His doctor looked at me with such profound confusion but ultimately thanked me for being so dedicated to his well being. She also told me that she had not seen such a severe case before and said that the measures I took prior to bringing him in were incredible. I am proud to say that he is over 120 pounds and is doing much better.

It has been a wild ride.

It’s crazy to see snippets of my life written out.

I know that life throws so many curve balls and please understand I did not handle a lot of this with grace.

Deep depressions and life ending thoughts consumed me.

It was only my kids that kept me from doing the absolute worst.

They are the reason why I am alive today.

They are my reasons.

They are my “why”.

I don’t share my story to create some kind of “success story”.

I share it because most people will not share their truth for fear of shame.

If you learn NOTHING else from reading my “series of unfortunate events”...

learn this...

Life is scary and you have to FEEL THE FEAR AND DO IT ANY WAY!

My life is far from perfect BUT my life is so real...no “air-brush”... no “retouches”...no “edits”.

It’s beautifully messy and that is just the way it should be.

#Code404It #StruggleCode #StruggleCode101 #MomsWhoCode #WomenWhoCode #BlackTechMatters #CodeNewbie

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dancekickboxcardio · 5 years ago

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I am already up and it is actually early. Vie, isn’t that what you wanted. Mmmmmhm. I feel a little sickly 🤒. I took some Advil 💊 last night. It’s like I am hot 🥵 like fever malaise. I didn’t want to be under the weather ☁️ I am erring more on feeling fine versus 🆚 yeah, the cold virus 🦠 is actually staying in your bod and it has been creating tiny havocs on your system. It doesn’t know that your work outs 🏃🏼‍♀️ 💪🏾 are exhausting 😩. But it just does what it does and it wins when you don’t allow yourself to rest and recover. I don’t find it frustrating that my training 👟 is interrupted by bouts of partial illness. I also protect myself in a regard that even if I am not bed 🛌 stuck, I call the entire thing off under the idea 💡 that if you don’t contain this infection, it shall be worse. I am actually lazy yesterday. You are allowed to put your feet up and not do anything. I didn’t feel that I am wasting my life 😏. Yet I didn’t also feel that I am going somewhere and to me that is important ⚠️. I feel that most of people’s problem is that they get bogged down in that indecision. I mean, it’s not that simple. You have feelings, social pressures, how you process and really it’s a tough call. Ugh 😑, Vie is always calling it as it is ��without difficulty” getting there, sticks by it and continues. It’s as complicated as getting rid of a cold 🤧 germs in molecular and physiological systems. I am doing what I can. I am sleeping 💤 earlier, I am disinfecting, I am being clean 🧼 like washing my hand 🖐🏾 esp when handling food 🥘, I bundle up 🧣 🧤, I am boosting my immunity. Here’s the clincher. You have to pinpoint exactly what’s going on in your body and institute therapy that promotes healing like duh 🙄. Yes, I need recovery and tons of rest as there is inflammation and tiny muscle tears in me physically. Rest, rest, rest. I feel like I should do what I feel like. Do what is astute. Others might not see that. Others however notice what is exceptional.

I asked Google mini what time it was. I finally decided to get up 🛏 and whoa whoa 😳 whoa it’s nine thirty 🕤 already. I lingered in the sack for that long. Yes, the second hand is 🕰 inching faster 💨 than what my brain 🧠 thinks or better word perceives it does. What are your list of things 📝 in task master? My cats 🐈 🐈 🐈 have been letting out noise to “speak” to me. I said hi 👋🏾 to them. I haven’t hugged 🤗 them but I have been kissing 😚 Wawames. He’s always following me. Yeah, I was very not cohesive in my day’s plans 🖊 . Today however it shall be different. What was my thing yesterday. I was listening 👂🏾 to American Constitution lecture 💻 yesterday. After two 10 minutes clip I told my BFF I should and could nap 💤 now. It is essential to be not sick and do the things I do in the studio and health club floor. I took an introductory in Political Science. So it is not like foreign. But Professor Roosevelt is so interesting 🤔. He is lecturing on what’s not obvious. I love ❤️ it. My Dad is early to work today 👨🏻‍🔧 and gave me a pat in the back well not literally praised me for taking care of my dirty dishes 🍽. I have been putting it off and doing it when I have the time and yesterday, after waking up from my just an hour snooze 😴 time, I wasn’t feeling well at all. However, between the Advil 💊 and antioxidants, I have to make sure I do this chore before I call it a very early day. He goes and he is right, you should spend little times of your day to do it so it doesn’t pile up. He is correct. I agree with him. He is teaching something great. Does it mean I am going to do it? No. Why? I have a mind of my own.

What was my day like Tuesday 📆? I didn’t think 🤔 I would remember a lot but taking pictures 📸 jogs your memory. I love 💕 that connection. It makes your life so much meaningful. So taking random shots is actually good for your heart ❤️ too. The ACTUAL Vie wouldn’t give that time of the day. But she is making herself do it because life is beautiful if you care to see it as it is and not if you are like me acting on it constantly and moving, moving, moving. Vie, you are like where all action come from. I didn’t expect it to be. It’s kind of sad 😢 not for me. I have to take care of the people around me too. I am an expert on this and I actually have the final say on what gets life and what whithers. I must I realize not not carry others with me and not be neglectful and build a relationship. I have to make sure that how I view things is not my own inclination, tendencies and strengths. I have to see how those who love 💗 me carry on. In a better less wordy sense, team work. You don’t live in a vacuum. My success is not my personal own. It ensures that those precious people who I give my love 😍 and devotion also are able to surpass life so inordinarily thrusts upon them. They don’t end up infantile criminal druggies alcohol dependent as if that’s not embarrassing. They have to do their work and I meet them there too. You think 💭 I am strong 💪🏾 because I am. In a way, for good and bad, I have a supportive father and strategic mother.

What I am trying to say is I look 👀 at the pictures and I am back to the place. I remember seeing Laura in the front desk, the old man 👴🏻 who sat on the bigger chair, another member who left his empty water 💦 bottle next to me, the Spa 🧖🏼‍♀️ Life receptionist, Keya wearing red child center shirt 👚 etc. I have been starting late and I love ❤️ it because I am actually doing things not just for myself. I’m helping others make an impression of the world 🌎 as I see it. Here’s a big point, how I see it doesn’t mean they agree. Like any men and women who reason, you get to form your own opinions and knowing me I am not going to press what I believe on how you think 💭. I am just “vocal” and I’ll challenge how you determine things for yourself. It might sound crazy 😜 but it is not as sinister as sensationally getting you suck in on my agenda and forcefully and without boundaries make obvious fearful 😧 threats to absolutely you having to agree side with me. See the difference. You like me for what I am and not what I feed on you so you can see I am like the better person and I am using you and your resources 👏🏾.

I didn’t do exactly as I had penly 🖊 scheduled 🗓 it. BTW, in my dreams this morning I was trying to outsmart bad guys and I was shopping 🛒 for planners 📓. I am sure that subconscious has real life basis. How to Interpet dreams I think 💭 by Carl Jung. I also want to add that I know some monarch are mad like they have lost their touch to reason and see things as they actually are. Bizarre things. Well, you have to see that there are extreme pressures out on them and really if you think 🤔 about it they really live apart and process things different. They are rulers. Although I feel that when Kings have a dream and they act on it like some divine prophecy similarly they have Seers right who have premonition guess what? I feel that is your brain firing 💥 up making conscious real life events. It makes you feel what you give value to tremendously and what’s happening around you. Is it rational to follow your dreams? It is sensical and intuitive. My take is you have to be a strong intellect. Why am I talking about the unconscious? Ah, what I had detaily want to do versus 🆚 what was done ✅. I paid attention to what Lindsey said in personal training. She was great. She is a baby 👶🏻 to her expert coworkers but she is not like she is not strong about her knowledge based. Just remember that work is more than what you know. It is finding the right fit. Navigate the social, political, cultural and business terrain 🗺 ⛰. She is in the Cleveland Clinic of gyms. She says weight lift 🏋🏼‍♀️ first before cardio ♥️. It has something to do with taxing your muscles 💪🏾 🦵🏾. I did. What was I working on? Legs. I also made a deliberate decision 🤨 to start late and not go toe to toe on rush hour gym 🏃🏼‍♀️ 💪🏾 time. More exposure to bacteria 🧫 and viruses. It’s not that busy lately. I feel that most people are sick 🤕. I think 💭 Thanksgiving 🦃 is coming up. I was ill last year. Was I? I should celebrate. Black Friday. Oooh 😯, right, I have to see what’s their deal 🏷 at Abercrombie 🛍. I said hi 👋🏾 to Katie. I was keeping to myself this day because I yoga 🧘🏼‍♀️ stretched to begin in the studio listening 🎧 to news 🗞 and you have to realize I was sitting there for an hour ⏲ doing serious work. We talked about the weather and mood. Usually, I am gabby superfluous. I tried to keep my mouth shut 🤐. More processing, less socializing if you must help it. At thirty minutes my left hips was hurting at GTX station. I remem from magazine that if something is painful 😣 stop 🛑 right away. I observed it a little bit more. I have to be nice to my body and did hip flexor stuff. I wanted 90 minute ⏱ cardio.

I filled out my worksheet completely ✍🏾 and I love 💕 my own subjective take on the stuff I did. It might be neglible even if the psych grad 👩🏼‍🎓 in me knows it is greatly not just for productivity 📊📈📉 and keeping tabs, it’s work miracles for processing things that happened and what needs to improved, continued and see little nuggets of refined methods. I loved 💗 Dance Jams 💃🏼. I was jumping. Ayayay. But I noticed working on my legs and having that woman 👩🏼 attitude, enjoying 😊 what I do and learning new moves 👣. I am so happy 😀 cool down. Angie is super. Mariah Carey for stretches 🙆🏼‍♀️. What could go wrong 🎊 ?

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