#part 10 of 15

[ask-de-writer]

I WOULD LIKE TO THANK

@wind-the-mama-cat for READING,

LIKING and REBLOGGING

KURIN’S FOLLY : Part 10 of 15

A World of Sea tale

[lilybug-02]

Establishing shots. My beloved.

[bunnies-and-blues]

Hi~ your post on study session headcanons was so relatable for me, because I’m preparing for exams right now! Wish Kogure-sempai could keep me company while I revise… Sigh

Would you do headcanons for Mitsui, Rukawa, Kogure, and how they’d make up with their s/o after an fight?

Thank you so much! Keep up the good work!

─꒰ᐢ. .ᐢ꒱─ slam dunk : kiss & make up ☆

⸝⸝ tl;dr : fights are always the worst thing to have with your partner. work features mitsui, rukawa, kogure, and you !

⸝⸝ note : not really hurt/comfort, but more so just the comfort after talking it out with the sd boys ! and thank u sm, peach, wishing you the best on exams ! (even though its vv late) =DD

you don't even remember what you fought about . was it a conflict on schedules ? were you being too clingy ? or lack thereof ? whatever it was, it felt awful .

mitsui hisashi . . .

look, i love the guy, but he's not the best at communication

chances are, he'll be giving you the cold shoulder for a couple of days, even though his heart yearns for your presence and his eyes automatically search for your name whenever his phone lights up with a notification

i feel like he'd be a bit prideful, not replying for hours on end and giving you terse replies whenever you speak — like i said, awful communication skills !!

secretly though, he'd be asking his friends for advice — kogure, specifically. and to some extent akagi as well; he knows that both of them are level-headed enough to hear both yours and his side of the story.

eventually, he breaks ; he misses being around you : (

mitsui stops you just as you were about to leave the room. it was late afternoon, the sun's rays slanting through the classroom windows. dust motes swirl lazily in the light as mitsui steps towards you once, twice, three times, until eventually you two are facing each other. his eyes are downcast, his feet shuffling on the worn wooden floors. "look, i - uh -" he starts, and he curses. why the hell can't he talk ? even when you're not doing anything, you can still render him speechless. he stops, takes a deep breath, starts again. "i just wanted to say that i'm sorry, for you know, not answering your messages and not calling you back. ignoring you. i - i have no excuse for that; and i'm not proud of it, either. but i just wanna say that, whatever we fought about, we- we can talk it out, if you're okay with that. i wanna make this right. i don't like being in fights with you, and it feels weird, not talking to you. and the thing is, i-" he sighs again, his gaze finally coming up to meet yours. his words come out in a whisper, his statement meant for you and you only. "- i missed you."

kogure kiminobu . . .

easily the best communicator out of the three !!

he's the type of person that strives to end any miscommunication before it could even begin, so fights and arguments with him are infrequent, if not completely rare

the only scenario i can see wherein you'd get in a fight with him is about how maybe you're working too hard -- studying from the time you get home to the early hours of morning with no breaks in-between

kogure hates seeing you suffer, so often times he tries to offer advice, even if you don't want or need it

eitherway, an argument would happen ; maybe some hurtful words were thrown around, words that neither of you meant

regardless of who instigated, kogure would always be the one to first make amends

all around you, the world goes on -- students chatting excitedly over lunch, footsteps echoing all across the campus, birds and cars and people all just trying to move forward. but in this corner of the school, the one with the flowering cherry tree behind the cafeteria, the world only consisted of you and him. you fidget with the water bottle in your hands, the condensation making your palms wet. the sweltering noontime heat makes you dizzy. (or was it from your lack of sleep?) you raise your handkerchief to swipe at your sweat, but kogure beats you to it -- gently, he dabs his at your forehead, then your cheeks, then your neck. his hands are cool despite the heat. "i'm sorry for what i said the other day," he says as he cools you down. "i ... i just don't want to see you having a hard time. i know that your deadlines were near and you have so much to do but i just really don't like seeing you so ... tired. you haven't been talking much lately and i haven't seen you smile all week so i - i just --" "kiminobu." you cut him off, leaning your cheek into his palm. kogure's heart pounds in his chest ; you say his name so sweetly, so softly. "it's okay." "are you sure?" he stammers, leaning forward to caress your face better. "it's just that i know i said some things that i shouldn't have said and it's --" "kiminobu," you repeat again, your tone firm but gentle at the same time. you rest the weight of your head on his palms (along with the weight you've been feeling all week) and you smile at him. "it's okay." kogure stares at you for a moment, then he smiles back, his eyes crinkling and a laugh spilling from his lips. "okay," he repeats, nodding his head. "okay." he laughs, and it feels like he's weightless, floating on cloud nine.

rukawa kaede . . .

not much to say for rukawa tbh

but in all seriousness, the aftermath of your fights with rukawa would be silent and cold. much like mitsui, he tends to prioritize his pride and sore heart over actually making amends with you.

but that doesn't mean he doesn't care !

more often than not, he ends up with his fingers hovering over his phone's keyboard, trying desperately to think of a way to apologize to you, before sighing and just turning his phone off

he plays basketball to let off the steam, and also to occupy his mind from the lack of your presence : (

the sounds of rukawa's basketball hitting the floor echoes throughout the empty gym, mixing in with the sounds of cicadas chirping in the trees. moths gather under lamplights, their wings silvery in the night. bam-bam-bam goes the ball, before his pace stuttersto a halt. he wipes the sweat off his forehead and checks the time -- 7 pm. that's enough practice for one day. the cold night air greets him as he walks out the gym. as he swings his leg over his bike, he sees a familiar figure out of the corner of his eye. "you're still here," he states, deadpan. he still hasn't figured out how to apologize to you, and his stiffness shows in his voice. "yeah," you reply, clutching your bag tighter. you had been in the library with your classmates up until that point, working hard to finish a group project before tomorrow's deadline. silence between the two of you. you walk on, and so does he, the click-click-click of his bike wheels the only sound disrupting the quiet turmoil of each other's thoughts. the two of you exit the school campus, and for a moment you both falter on the concrete sidewalk, shoes scuffling the grit underfoot. "i'll- i'll go this way, then," you mutter. what the hell, he hates this! everything feels so ... stilted. before rukawa could reply, you turn on your heel and start walking in the direction of the train station. you barely manage three steps before rukawa cycles by, blocking you with his bike. he takes your bag and puts it in the front basket. pats the passenger seat of his bike with a determined gaze. "i'll take you home," he says. his voice is softer now. there wasn't much else to do except to sit on the backseat of his bike and let him pedal you home, the night air causing goosebumps to erupt on your skin. "wrap your arms around me," rukawa instructs. the wind carries his words, lifts it to your ear. you swear his breath hitches just the tinest bit when you do what he says, adding in a small nuzzle to his side for good measure. "i'm sorry," you whisper after a while, voice half-muffled by the fabric of his coat. your fingers toy with the zipper of his jacket. rukawa is silent for a bit, then he takes one hand off the handlebar and puts it atop yours. he intertwines your fingers with his, squeezing. his pulse vaguely thumps through his skin, sending beats vibrating through your palm. "i'm sorry, too."

[courtesanofdeath]

Gintama 20th Anniversary Popularity Poll Results!

[cillyscribbles]

jellicle times for jellicle mimes :3c part 10!

p1, p2, p3, p4, p5, p6, p7, p8, p9 :3

[tranakin-skywalker]

Gotta be one of my favorite ao3 tags. Why aren't there more fics with this tag?

[lycheesodas]

the most unrealistic thing about miraculous ladybug is how fast marinette can take those earrings on and off

[qquokkari]

this is so dumb and probably doesn’t make a lot of sense but i’ve been thinking about stranger things a lot for the past few days and i feel like part of the reason a lot of people don’t like mike after s2 is because he’s reacting to trauma in a way they don’t feel is justified.

objectively he hasn’t been through as much as the other party members have because he hasn’t been possessed or Plagued With Visions or turned into a human weapon. he’s the third party to a lot of traumatizing events (which can be, in itself, traumatizing) but everything that directly happens to him doesn’t feel as major as the crazy supernatural things going on. he was bullied as a kid, his parents are dismissive and emotionally absent, and he’s very clearly depressed—he has behavioral issues at school and his grades are slipping, something the counselor cites as being a sign of max’s depression. there’s also a lot of subtext/hints about him having issues with food and body image things.

the problems that directly affect him are all ostensibly very normal in the face of monsters and human experimentation, and his reactions are very normal too. he’s self-isolating, he lashes out at people, he puts himself in danger, he can’t express his emotions in the “right” way. but in a universe where supernatural things are always happening around him, his problems seem insignificant. people don’t like that his behavior and personality changed as a result of trauma and other issues because they don’t think he has earned it.

his problems are too normal, or what traumatized him didn’t directly happen to him (like, his best friend went missing and was believed to be dead and came back and was possessed and mike felt like he was the only one who cared and he was there for it all), so he shouldn’t get to be angry and depressed and emotionally distant. he needs to go through something worse before he’s allowed to show that he’s been affected by the events of his life.

this isn’t all to say that i think he hasn’t been an asshole. rather, i think knowing why he’s been an asshole is necessary for viewing him as a sympathetic character, and a lot of people don’t think he deserves that because his ‘why’ isn’t good enough.

anyway mike wheeler they’ll never make me hate you

[little-eye-guy]

lisa and the professor (her lilyfowl)

[t0m0w0]

You guys (MHA fandom) are annoying as hell.

Stop complaining, this isn’t your story. (Yes I understand there are some parts to be critical about.. but is it really so hard to use the “bnha critical” tag?)

If you don’t like it, idk find something else then.

Also a lot of the “criticism” I’m seeing is fucking stupid.

If the leaks are fake, your criticism is invalid

If the leaks are real, your criticism is invalid

Be real.

[ask-de-writer]

About KURIN’S FOLLY :

Part 10 of 15 : World of Sea

@nevermord​ READ, LIKED and

REBLOGGED

KURIN’S FOLLY : Part 10 of 15 : World of Sea

and commented :

"Due to the fact that he is competent in his Craft, the law requires us to formally accept his own decision as to the state of his sanity."

*acts mad as a hatter and am a danger to myself and others, but since I'm a good weaver and make fine sails and tapestries I can simply say that I am sane, therefore I am*

This seems like a REALLY poorly thought-out law that needs to be revisited....

It might indeed benefit the fleet if that law were adjusted. The Naral fleet is over 600 years old. The issue has only very rarely come up. The law dates to the earliest days of the fleet, a time when truly every Master of every Craft was essential to their survival. Even so, very few are or ever have been as far aground as Master Juris.

[badest-writing]

In all honesty, I don’t remember the rest of that night. I just know that I woke up the next morning comfortable for the first time in ages. I rubbed the sleep from my eyes and ran my fingers through my hair. It felt much… softer than usual. And shorter and lighter. And my head didn’t feel itchy either. It felt strange but so, so nice. Then I realized that I was comfortable. I bolted upright, looking around the room frantically. SHIT! FUCK! WHAT HAPPENED WHERE AM I WHY—

My frantic thoughts were interrupted by a soft knock at the door. “Ethan, bud, you awake?” It was a woman’s voice.

Claire… Yesterday came rushing back and my breathing started to get too fast and the world seemed too big  and I felt so small and so scared and— I barely registered another knock on the door asking if I was okay. A few moments later Ernest came in, softly closing the door behind them. Not that I noticed. I bared even felt the bed shift as they sat down by me. I think they almost put a hand on my shoulder but didn’t end up doing it. I sorta felt the air move around his hand you know? A little piece of me deep down felt really good that he’d respected my boundary.

After a few minutes, I could hear that Ernest was calmly talking to me. “—keep breathing. You’re safe Ethan. You’re not in trouble. You’ll be okay—”

I didn’t know when I’d curled in on myself. I unsteadily tried to take a deep breath like they said to but my knees kinda got in the way of my lungs expanding. I felt surprisingly safe with Ernest; safe enough to leave my belly unprotected and move my legs to be crossed. I still hunched over though, scared to make the extent of my emotions known. I took a very shaky breath.

“Very good job Ethan. I’m proud of you.”

That made a little part of my soul flutter that hadn’t in a long while. I took another breath, a little steadier this time. I tried the method Ms. Richards taught mt class: in for 4, hold for 2, out for 5. I was so congested from crying I started coughing after breathing in for 3.

“You okay bud?” Ernest asked, mildly concerned.

I coughed for probably 10 solid seconds before it died down and I nodded, catching my breath as best I could but still wheezing a good bit.

“Hey bud?”

I looked up at them as best I could, my shoulders still hunched and my breathing still pretty shallow.

“Do you know if you have asthma?”

All I could do was shrug. I hadn’t been to a doctor in I don’t know how long.

“Alright then. I’m gonna go talk to Claire but I think we should get you into an urgent care.”

Fear struck through me. From what little experience I did have with doctors, it had never been good.

It looked like Ernest could tell. “I get it Ethan, I really do. But your lungs don’t sound too happy after that panic attack you just had and we need to make sure you’re able to breathe, okay?”

I reluctantly nodded.

“Okay then. I’m going to go talk to Claire and do any phone calls I need to to get you into a doctor. I’ve got a very nice one in mind who’s open on Saturdays. How about you get dressed and come out to the kitchen when you’re ready. I washed your new clothes last night–” Ernest pointed to a clean laundry basket by the door– “and you’ve got a bathroom to yourself through this door.” They tapped on a door in the room– MY room– as they got up and left, gently closing the door behind them.

Only then did I realize how badly I needed to pee.

This story is written by me, @badest-writing (aka @dead-immortal). The following is all my intellectual property and may not be used by anyone for any reason without permission except for review purposes. This is a fictitious work; any similarities this has to real people or events is entirely coincidental.

(trigger warnings: homeless child/teen, big emotions, doctor, panic attack, needle mention (for immunizations), social services, passing mentions of the fears caused by systemic racism, probably more tbh)

the story of MY life (by Ethan Daniel Roberts)

The gull stared me down, a murderous look in its eyes. It slowly took a step towards me as if I wouldn’t notice its approach after it had pinned me against the wall. It took another step forward. Then another. Then— BAM! The gull lunged at my hand with its sharp beak. I moved out of the way at the last possible second and only narrowly avoided losing my finger. My timing had been perfect; the gull SLAMMED into the wall it had cornered me against!

“Not today man, I’ve got a math test today and I can’t have everyone hear my stomach growling.” I slung my backpack off one shoulder and tucked the bag of chips I’d risked my life for into the big pocket.

[ducktracy]

i am delighted to report that Shin-chan Movie 15, in which a bomb gets attached to the family dog’s ass and can only be detonated by singing, is maybe the most emotional Shin-chan movie out of the 14 or so i’ve seen. from small children dancing in Broadway style kick lines to Shin’s parents thinking he died in a brutal, fiery explosion and the moment played with utter heart wrenching sincerity, i officially decree this a Good Movie

[kyouka-supremacy]

Asagiri: *slaps Akutagawa's head* this bad boy can fit so much objectification dehumanization and dog metaphors in it

[agalychnisspranneusroseus]

I need to go to sleep but i dont wanna go to sleep i want to think about sashannarcy

[lightblueminecraftorchid]

What the food pantry on campus does:

- gives me snacks and drinks to supplement my regular groceries, breakfast stuff, maybe ingredients for 1-2 actual meals

What the food pantry is really bad at doing:

- giving me food I can make into proper meals for the week

Oh you want juice? Here’s 2 little juice boxes. Nothing else; they’re limited. You want pasta sauce? 1 can; limited. You want produce? 2 produce item limit, except for the apples which are starting to spoil. You can have all of those. You want frozen chicken? One container only. Oh, they’re all stuck together and frozen? Sorry, you can’t have two; no chicken, I guess. Pasta? One box only. Rice? Two small bags, max. Breakfast bars? Yeahhhh, those are a snack, and you can only have five snacks, total. But if you put those pop tarts back, you could have some! Oh, you want donuts instead? Sure! But that’s a bakery item, and you can only have one baked good, so you’re gonna need to put that bread back. You want ziploc bags? Here, have two. Not two boxes, two bags. Item limits. Sorry. You can come back next week!

How the fuck are people supposed to actually *use* these things for weekly meal planning if there’s not enough to last a week???

I swear I am grateful for these resources I’m sure they’re doing the best they can with what they have I’m just *frustrated*. I’m trying to spend less on groceries bc I can’t really afford them. It’s nice that the food pantry gives me these small portions to last me a couple days. But that still leaves several days with not enough food unless I’m really creative or go grocery shopping, and I simply do not have the energy or time to be really creative.