#would be isolating themselves and a coworker would find me and say hey can you go talk em down

[mashiraostail]

Hi Den! I just saw your depressive reader request and I really appreciated it, of course and your other contents, they were amazing. I wasn't really feeling myself lately and seeing the characters comfort the reader, believe me it really helps me, especially I'm going through a big test right now. I was wondering if I can request a Vlad King version, or any other characters you have in mind? I really wanted to be in his big arms, if no then it's ok too💗please stay hydrated at these times and be safe, I'm looking foward to your great work💗

 Hi! I'm really glad you liked them! I have another ask looking to get Mic and Yagi so I’ll add them here too, i hope your test goes well! 

Sekijiro Kan / Vlad King Hindsight is always much clearer. You wished you'd started the assignment when you got it rather than continually putting it off, but no, so everything had piled. You somehow managed to churn it all out the night before but it left you thoroughly exhausted. So much so that you end up flaking on your plans with Sekijiro, he doesn’t seem too perturbed on the phone though, he knew you had a lot of work right now, he’s been guilty of the same thing on occasion.  Though that was a week ago. Nothing particularly devastating had happened, nothing out of the ordinary, and yet you just felt so exhausted. Everything was a chore to you. Which made staying in bed with the lights out for days on end incredibly easy. But it made doing laundry, changing your sheets, doing the dishes, and even just finishing a glass of water basically impossible. All you had the energy to do was get up, go to your job, and come straight home and get back into bed. If your coworkers noticed your rapidly declining state no one said anything.  It was rare for Sekijiro to go more than a few hours without at least a text from you. You sent him literally whatever crossed your mind, pictures, random ideas or thoughts, questions about what you should eat for lunch or dinner, should you get mocha in your coffee or vanilla? You also usually called him when you were doing some sort of mindless task, cooking or cleaning and other things of the like. Not to mention how often you saw each other, practically everyday you usually stopped in on him while he was paroling, or asked him to come to your place when he was done. Now he was going full days without hearing from you at all. Since you’d given him a raincheck on your plans earlier last week he’d hardly heard from you. He texted you first of course, he’d asked how you were feeling numerous times now, but you always just said ‘I’m alright’ or ‘a bit exhausted’ at the worst before turning the conversation around to him again.  “You look nervous.” Aizawa doesn’t look up when he speaks, but it was an elephant in the room. Sekijiro was sure everyone had noticed how often he was checking his phone, or the nervous jitter in his leg every time it went off. “Yeah big guy what’s got you so rattled?” Mic agrees from his spot beside Aizawa in the teachers lounge.  “Nothing really.” Vlad cracks his knuckles, a nervous habit. “I bet you told Ryo. You shouldn’t play favorites it’s-”  “I didn’t tell him and I don’t play favorites.” He cuts Nemuri off.  “Is it romance troubles?”  “Why do you always take it there, Midnight?”  “So it is.” She looks proud, “I don’t always take it there, I just have a keen eye.”  Sekijiro lets out an empty huff of a laugh, “sure.”  “Maybe we can help.” If anyone but Aizawa said that Sekijiro would have written it off. It’s not that Aizawa wasn’t a nice guy, he was a hero after all, but for the most part he liked to keep to himself. Him offering help must have meant that Sekijiro was jumpier than he’d previously thought. “I have this...friend..and they’ve just been sort of MIA lately is all.  I don’t wanna barge in on them but they’re just not acting like themselves. I’m worried I did something to offend them, or that they’re hurt or sick and not telling me, when I ask they just write it off. I don’t want to seem like I don’t trust them but something just feels wrong.” Now that he said it out loud this did sound like the type of thing Ryo would have been really useful for, though that in mind Ryo knew you better than the others, the chance of him just barging in on you was much higher. The trio ponders this new information before Mic seems to have a lightbulb. “Why don’t you go there with a gift? That way it’s less like barging in and more like surprising!” Mic jumps, holding up an inquisitive finger, “or bring some take out or something like that!”  “That’s..not a bad idea..” Sekijiro murmurs to himself, it wasn’t out of character for him to surprise you at random times either...  “Great. Why don’t you head out now?” Aizawa offers and Sekijiro turns to him.  “No I mean, I would but I agreed to stay back for my class so they could use the-”  “We’ll be here for a while.” He’s curt but his kindness isn’t lost on the taller hero.  “Thank you Eraser. I really appreciate this, I’ll repay you.”  “Don’t mention it. If this’ll get you to stop shaking like a wet dog all the time.” He mutters to himself turning the paper before him over, “let us know if we can do anything else.”  You were starving. Yet you didn’t have a single morsel of food in your whole apartment, not even a jar of peanut butter. The hunger pains in your stomach weren’t enough to motivate you to venture out into the world, the terrible gloomy weather wasn’t helping either. You rolled onto your chest with a groan, wondering how much longer you could go on like this. Maybe after work tomorrow you could stop some place and pick up some groceries, for now though sleep was a great distraction.  Despite having a key Sekijiro still knocked, though after receiving no reply he elected to let himself in.  It seems like you’re in, your shoes are by the door, and your key is on the hook above them, but the coffee table is covered in plates, utensils and half empty cups of water or juice, your favorite blanket was strewn haphazardly over the couch, dangling onto the floor, you normally folded it neatly and draped it over the back. Your work papers and other things were cluttering the arm chair on the far end of the room and there were various wrappers around the floor and couch.  “Hello?” Sekijrio calls out for you but gets no reply. He clears a spot on your coffee table for the take out he brought and sets the other bag of various odds and ends on the couch before setting to straightening up. If you were asleep, which is what he figured, then you probably had a cold or something. He doesn’t wanna clean everything, incase you..liked it like this? He’s not sure himself but maybe you were trying something out. He empties the glasses into the sink and cleans them and the utensils off before discovering you had literally no food in your whole apartment. This was becoming concerning.  “Hey..” He knocks on the slightly ajar door of your bedroom, there’s no light coming from inside.  “I’m gonna come in alright?” He nudges the door open with his shoulder and the light from the hallway illuminates you, asleep. You didn’t look sick, though somehow you still looked worse for wear.  He shuffles over to you, “hey you?” He crouches down but keeps his voice low, “wake up.” He doesn’t want to startle you or anything. His efforts are fruitless. He straightens up and looks around a bit, pondering his next move.  He elects to climb into bed with you, he isn’t sure why he does this, but it feels like the right move. He carefully maneuvers your limp and sleepy form to rest against him. You start to mumble sleepily, still deadweight stacked against him, “Sek?” You’re wrapping an arm around his ribcage.  “Hey’re you up?” He looks down to you, only to find you are in fact not up. So he stays like that for a while, holding you by the back of your head to his chest, his other hand running long strokes over your spine, he could reheat the take out for you when you woke up.  When you do wake up you’re fully prepared for the terrible pang of hunger to be the first thing that you feel. But instead you just feel warm, you didn’t remember bringing a heavier blanket in here with you, but the warm weight on your back was comforting and...moving? Why was your blanket rubbing your back? The next thing to hit you was the scent, warm and piney to mask a slight metallic twinge, it was Sekijiro’s.  “Hey you’re awake.” His hand halts, “sorry to barge in like this.”  “it’s...okay.” You wipe your eyes and sit up, his hand slides off your back and wraps around to hold your waist.  “You feeling alright?”  The hunger hits you then.  “Honestly? No..” You’re straddling his leg, hands resting on his stomach.  “Yeah, I had a feeling. What’s up? It didn’t feel like you had a fever.”  “I’ve just been exhausted lately, Everything’s a chore. It’s all piling up and I have no motivation, and then I isolate myself and that doesn’t help.” You scrub your face. It clicks for Sekijiro then.  “Oh.” He sits up, “oh.” He holds either of your arms in his hands, “why didn’t you say something sooner? I would have come to help.”  “I didn’t wanna be a burden or seem childish, normally I can be pretty high functioning when I get like this. I’m still going to work and all so I figured I’d just pull out of this slump and then..apologize to you for being so aloof. I just-” Your stomach growls.  “And another thing! You don’t even have a crumb of food in here!” Sekijiro scolds you, “seriously I was worried sick when I got in. And you’re starving! You could have asked me to bring you something!”  “I didn’t wanna bother you, especially when I was being so cold I-”  “Okay. Don’t work yourself up.” Sekijiro uses the hand not being held by you to pull your bedhair back from your face, “well I brought food anyways. We can heat it up. So why don’t we talk after you eat?” “I’d... rather talk now..” You murmur, holding one of his hands in both of yours, “I’m really sorry Sekijiro. I shouldn’t have acted like that. I should have called you and explained and-”  “That’s a lot easier said than done babe.” Sekijiro stops you, “I won’t say I wasn’t worried, I was. Aizawa even said something to me.” He laughs a little, “but...this isn’t always something you can help. I didn’t wanna seem like I didn’t trust you by just barging in so I let it go on too long. I’m sorry for not coming sooner even though I was worried.”  “It’s not your responsibility to-”  “Shush. Anyways, now I know this kind of thing can happen from time to time, are you okay with me coming to check on you if I’m worried?”   “Of course I am..” You lean forward and drop your head onto his shoulder,  “I’m sorry too, for shutting you out and being cold..I didn’t make you think I was mad at you did I?”  He laughs, “It had..briefly crossed my mind.”  “I’m sorry Sek..” You wrap your arms around his back, you feel it shake with quiet laughter.  “It’s alright. Everything is fine now. You must be starving though, do you feel better? Enough to eat at least? Let’s go out to the couch, a change of scenery may do you good?”  You agree blindly, affectionately leaning into him as he rubs your back, truthfully you weren’t even sure what you agreed to until you were rounding the corner to the living room.  “Oh no it’s-” Not half as bad as you thought?  “I just picked up some stuff while you were asleep.” He waves, “I left your work stuff and the blanket, I know you can be particular about them. Get comfy and I’ll go heat this up.”  You sit on another bag by accident, curious you peek inside to find a niche collection of aspirin, a heating pad, and some socks among other things. You can feel your eyes getting wet.  “Hey why don’t you pick a movie too?” He’s coming back with two plates, “I can even give you a pass this time I won’t mind if you fall asleep because I-”  “Did you get all this for me?” You scrub at your eyes and he rushes over, quickly setting the plates down.  “W-well yeah I though you were sick!” He pulls you forward again, into his chest, he wraps his arms around you, “what’s wrong? Why are you crying?”  “It’s just really nice of you-” You sniffle, carding your hand through the back of his hair, “thank you for coming Sek.”  “Well..yeah of course I came babe. I’ll always...geeze, don’t cry..I didn’t wanna make you cry. Come on buck up.” His hands are sort of aggressively rubbing your back, but it’s actually kind of comforting..  “You could never bother me with something like this. I wanna help.”  “I’m sorry.” You pull away and wipe your face after he squeezes you one last time, “sorry I’m..I don’t know why I’m so emotional right now-” You sniffle and look up at him, “I'm such a baby aren’t I?”  “No..I don't think so.” He reaches out and nudges a tear with his knuckle, “I think it’s sweet. Babies are cute anyways.” His palms cup your face and his thumbs rub comforting strokes over your puffy cheeks, “let’s eat, okay? Put on a movie and you can fall asleep again if you want, I’ll even carry you to bed after. Tomorrow we’ll both go to work and then come back here and start getting you back on track alright? You’d help if it were me so don’t worry about troubling me. It’s really not any trouble at all. I feel better knowing you’re taken care of so really you’re doing me a favor.” 

Hizashi Yamada/Present Mic The pair of you were quite literally inseparable. You called each other during every commute, texted and chatted throughout the entire day. So when he started lamenting to Aizawa that you’d pulled away a bit Aizawa told him to buck up, you probably just needed time to recharge. He���d been friends with the voice hero for over a decade now and even he needed to take time to himself on occasion, and he didn’t see Hizashi half as often as you did sometimes. He always reassures Hizashi that loudness can be exhausting but that doesn’t mean he’s disliked, sometimes people just can’t match his energy. That was probably the case now. While that put him slightly at ease he was still a bit disgruntled. You’d never had an issue talking to him about this sort of thing before, you were always the first person to ask him to quiet down, or to lower his energy level, and usually you were the one of the few who could do it in a way that was somehow sweet rather than hurtful. The fact that you were plain ignoring him now sort of...actually hurt his feelings. You answered his texts, though usually with much less gusto than before, and you always cut your talks on the phone short with some random excuse, ‘i think someone is at the door’ or, ‘sorry someone else is calling me’ or ‘my phones about to die’ and so on. When he asked to see you you deflected, you had a migraine, you were backed up at work, you wouldn’t be home till later, you had to get up early the next day, any excuse under the sun to take a raincheck on him. He spent about 2 days brooding over it, genuinely hurt by your actions and wholly unsure of your intentions.  To be honest, his high energy, loudness, and general excitability was exactly what you needed right now. You never had trouble asking him for help with things before; Help me open this jar? Could you pick up dinner on your way back? Do you mind moving my couch please, I’m trying to redecorate.. Will you straighten my hair I always miss pieces in the back. So you didn’t know why you couldn’t ask him to just be here. You didn’t need anything else, just his company would have been nice. You’d had an awful week, there was so much to do and you could feel your interest waining as the seconds ticked by, it was normal for you to get dragged down this time of year. Your coworkers and teammates were understanding of it, everyone had their ticks and this was yours, they were happy to help pick up what overwhelmed you and you were grateful for that but at the same time guilt gnawed at you, you felt useless and burdensome, the last thing you wanted to do was ask yet another person for yet another favor. Begging for help when you should be able to do it yourself. You didn’t want to suck the energy out of Hizashi, you already felt guilty enough for leaning so heavily on your colleagues. In hindsight your reasoning would make no sense, but all you wanted to do now was isolate yourself. It was as if your growth wouldn’t mean anything if you didn’t achieve it all on your own. You’re never really sure how you reach these conclusions but in the end they always feel logical.  That being said, it didn’t feel like you were achieving much of anything right now. All of these tears were over nothing, it wasn’t anything that couldn’t be fixed but still. You’d written it all in pen, and now the error..it’s not that you couldn’t white it out, you surely could, but the white out would look sloppy now and it would be clear you made an error but you were so close to being done you didn’t want to start the whole page over. It felt like a silly thing to cry over, but you did anyways. Eventually it tired you out enough to get you to just resign to bed. Hardly past 10 pm, but bed. You needed bed. You were so wrapped up in work that you didn’t even notice him texting and calling, you hadn’t even spoken to him once today, and then when you decided to call it a night you just left your phone at your work space.  He was antsy, jumpy and even a bit irritable. Worry didn’t really begin to describe it. Eventually, late into dinner Nemuri tells him to just go to you. “Check up on them, if they really are exhausted they’ll tell you that to your face, it’s better to be safe than sorry.”  Everyone seemed to echo her sentiments, which was largely unsurprising considering his change in demeanor was probably the least refreshing thing to befall the group of teachers the semester. Dorming wasn’t entirely unpleasant, they liked each other enough, but when things like this happened everyone’s patience was tested.  He calls when he’s outside your complex, he’s mostly sure you won’t answer but he at least wanted to try before knocking, and then eventually deciding to just use his key. Not answering wasn’t going to be enough to get rid of him, he decided he was going to get to the bottom of this tonight. Even if the issues was simply that you just needed the time to recharge from him you could say that instead of just dropping off the face of the Earth, it wasn’t like you to be such a terrible communicator. Which is why he had trouble believing that as the truth, but even if it was there needed to be some sort of conversation about how this was not effective for either party because now he was mad at you and even if you had recharged sufficiently he wouldn't’ want to see you until he cooled down.  Hizashi isn’t surprised when you neglect to answer the door. He is surprised by the terrible state of your apartment though. Papers and pencils are scattered around the living room, the kitchen is practically turned upside down despite the only food on the stove being a pot of plain rice that looks hardly touched. The further he ventured into the apartment the less he worried about you being tired of him and the more he worried that something awful had happened, and he’d neglected to notice you when you were in harms way.  Your bathroom wasn’t much better than your kitchen, once neat medicine cabinet shelves were disheveled, cabinet doors were left open things were far from their usual place, not to mention the pile of laundry in the corner. He hand’t announced himself yet, normally it was the first thing he did, loud and boisterous and probably incredibly annoying to anyone but you, “I’m here, where are you?? come say hello!!” But something unsettling was constricting in him, his chest, his stomach, his throat it made his shoulders tense. Had something terrible happened to you while he was trying to give you space? Had he ignored an obvious cry for help? Was he too late? Would his neglect cause him to lose someone else? The last place to look was your bedroom, but the light was off, and it was hardly past 10, he brain wrote off any possibility of you being there, you were a historic night owl why would you be in bed at 10?  He wasn’t relieved by the lump under your covers, in-fact he’d go as far as to say his panic only rose, bubbling up to the point he could feel it behind his eyes, like some awful pounding headache, the kind you get after driving home from a loud concert and having to look at all the city lights at night, though this was much less euphoric.  “Hey?!” He can’t help tearing the covers back, flicking the lamp on, he hates to startle you, but right now startling you would be one of the best case scenarios.  You jump, it presses you back into your pillows, into your mattress, the sheets crumple beneath you, it’s just instinct, you don’t know what else to do, you throw a pillow at him.  “Get out!”  “Hey it’s just me!”  You were flinching, bracing for some sort of retaliation, though when nothing comes you open your eyes.  “Hizashi?”  “Babe, thank god,” he exhales like he hadn’t taken a breath in 10 minutes, not before pulling you up into a rib crushing hug.  “What are you doing here?” Your hands hover over his back, confused.  “What am I doing here??” He scoffs holding the back of your head, huddling you into the crook of his neck. “Looking for you! That’s what I’m doing here!” You feel a twinge of guilt at that, especially since he’s holding you so tightly, “are you alright?”  “I’m fine..Zash..I’m okay.” One of your hands fall limp into his lap.  “I was so worried.” He pulls you back, “seriously I was going insane, I thought something happened to you, you got abducted or hurt or worse I thought-” He stops himself, “please don’t ever disappear like that again.” He presses his forehead into yours, “you don’t need tot ell me where you’re going, I’m not trying to keep tabs on you, just please at least tell me you’re safe. Promise me you would tell me if you weren’t, that you’d be honest with me if you were in trouble or scared-”  “Of course I’d...Zash is something wrong?”  “I should be asking you that! Where have you been?” He’s pulling away again, squeezing your arms, “did you just get sick of me? Is this your way of-”  “No!” You jump, “no, Hizashi I’d never do that to you-”  “So then why? Why isolate yourself like this? Why would you do this? Did you just need a break from me? Was I being too loud, too much to-” “Zashi please stop you’ll make me cry-” You shake your head, “this didn’t have anything to do with you. Please stop thinking that, I’m sorry I made you feel that way I-”  “You’ve already been crying!” He’s inspecting your face, “why didn’t you call me, how long have you been upset for? Is that...” You can see the gears turning until the dots are connected.  “I’m sorry I didn’t come sooner I-”  “It’s not your fault don’t be sorry! I should be sorry I- and you-” You hiccup.  “Me? What about me?” He Looks down at you, “this is about you babe I’m fine-”  “No! You thought I was upset with you! Or tired of you! Or worse that I didn’t want to be with you and that’s not true! I worried you for no good reason and I’m sorry!”  “Oh babe...no..” He shakes his head before pulling you into another hug, “no..no way it’s not like that-”  “But it is! Isn’t it? You even asked me if you were too much lately! You aren’t you never are Zashi, there’s no such thing as you being to loud or annoying or..anything. I just want you to be yourself, I’m okay when you’re like that, getting to see you like that I.... I don’t want you to change anything, please don’t change anything-”  “Babe that’s sweet.” He squeezes you, you feel his lips on your temple, "but I’m worried about you. What happened to make you so emotional?”  “I just got overwhelmed. I hate this time of year.” You fist his shirt in your hands, “work was too much. Everyone is nice, they understand, but somehow I feel even worse taking help from them. It feels like if I can’t pull myself up on my own it makes me weak, it doesn’t count if I don’t do it by myself. Which is why I didn’t call you. Or text you, or try to see you at all. I was already leaning on so many people I didn’t want to take from you too. I didn’t wanna suck up your extra time, you energy I...you’re my boyfriend not my caretaker I just-”  “Stop me if I’m butting in unfairly.” He rests his chin on your head, “and I mean this respectfully. But that’s stupid.”  “Asshole! I just poured my heart out to you don’t call it stupid!” You shove him.  “Hey let me finish!” He catches your hands before you can get up, “it’s stupid because I lean on you all the time.” He pulls you forward again, “are my accomplishments null because you help me out all the time?”  “Zash When do I ever-”  “Don’t even finish that sentence. And don’t answer a question with a question.” He scoffs, “you help me out all the time. Even if it’s not always big emotional stuff...babe this past week’s been hell without you around. Even things that feel small, like making a bed, or doing laundry or running a bath for someone make a huge difference, they mean a lot to me and knowing I’ll get to see you has always helped my mood. I lean on you for stuff like that constantly. But I don’t feel guilty because I know you like doing it. So don’t feel guilty when it’s the other way around, I wanna give too, I want you to lean on me, to take from me. Seriously, nothing would make me happier than knowing I helped you.”  “I’m sorry I pushed you-”  “Don’t cry over that!” He laughs, “god you’re sweet. It’s okay. I was being mean. I shouldn't have said it like that. Anyways you never answered my question.”  “What question?” You look up at him.  “Are all my accomplishments null? Because I lean on you? because I need you?”  “...well it’s not-”  “It’s a yes or no question. It is the same. It’s okay to need help, more than just opening a jar. It’s okay to need support, that’s normal. No one is meant to do it all on their own. So yes or no?”  “...no you’re right. No.” You turn into his chest and he plaits his fingers through  the crown of your hair.  “And you’ll always be there for me right? Because you love me, don’t you?”  “Of course I’ll always be here for you. And don’t ask a question like that you know I love you.” You mutter, ducking closer towards him and wrapping your arms around his ribs, “i’m sorry I didn’t call. You really didn’t think I got sick of you right?”  “No.” He swings his legs onto the mattress and lays back with you, “Shota and the others said you probably just needed a break but it didn’t really sit right with me, you’re the only person who never seems to need a break from me. ‘s why I showed up. To be honest I wasn’t really that worried about your wellbeing, I just figured you were swamped with work and didn’t want me worrying, but then when I saw..you know the mess..I panicked. I thought something happened to you, and you hadn’t answered my calls all day, or even yesterday.”  “I’m so sorry-” You warble, “god I’m so selfish I shouldn’t have-”  “It’s okay. You were overwhelmed. But if this happens again just..try to let me know you’re safe okay? If you aren’t ready to ask for help...and on the topic of help, how can I help now that I’m here?”  “I just wanna go to bed.” You murmur, latching onto his arm.  “Hm..nonsense. How about I run you a bath? And hey what were you crying about before?”  You flush, this was embarrassing.  “I messed up the page I was writing. But I did it in pen so I didn’t know what do to and I didn’t wanna start over because I was almost done but white out will look messy and so I got upset and then I got overwhelmed and then I started crying and then I went to bed.” You press your forehead into his arm petulantly, “and if you laugh at me I’ll make you leave.”  “I’m not gonna laugh.” He promises, “I’ll run you that bath, while you’re in there I’ll rewrite the page for you so you can stop worrying about it. But you should use pencil from now on.” He squeezes the nape of your neck, “sound like a square deal?” You silence says otherwise.  “What’s wrong?” He looks down to you.  “I want you to take the bath with me.” You mutter it, it hardly registers, “please.”  “Huh? Did you just say what I think you just said?” He looks delighted, despite his tone being almost devilish, “why would you want me to do a thing like that?”  “because..I missed you...and I still feel bad and I know you like taking baths with me and..” You look down at your hands where they’re interlocked, “and...I want you to wash my hair. I can figure out that page tomorrow or something.”  He sighs, “I can’t be mean to you when you’re being so sweet.” You get pulled along as he sits up, “of course I’ll come, and I’ll wash your hair for you.” He cups your cheek, “what else do you want? You can have anything just ask.”  “After that I...I think I just want to go to bed, and deal with the other stuff tomorrow. I want you to stay though.”  “I’m gonna have a heart attack.”  “Hey! Don’t say things like that! It’s bad luck!”  “Don’t be so sweet then!” He argues, pulling you to stand.  “Of course I’ll stay. I’ll stay tomorrow, and help then too, if you want. You don’t have to decide right now I know asking for help can be hard. In the meantime let’s just take that bath okay?” 

Yagi Toshinori/ All Might Retirement had left Yagi with some rather pleasant spare time. He’d never gotten to have many hobbies before but now he was enjoying freedoms life as All Might had never permitted. Chief among them being a continuous close proximity to you. Even though you didn’t technically live together it didn’t really feel as though either of you had a designated space either. It felt right for Yagi to be in your space, using your things, like he belonged there. It felt equally right for you to be in his space, existing and using his things as you pleased. You didn’t need permission and neither did he, it just felt right to exist around each other. Especially now that he had the extra time to spend with you and you both realized how easy and comfortable being together was. Though right now nothing felt easy or comfortable or right, your entire existence felt like a pair of jeans that was way too tight. Just taking a breath that was too deep felt uncomfortable.  Your closeness to Yagi made the shift in your mood apparent to him from the very beginning.  It was silly in hindsight. The proposal had a 50/50 chance anyways and it’s not like you had anything directly to do with it’s failure, it was just the last straw, the tiny thing that made all the other things seem huge, and as quickly as you’d realized that your mood had already plummeted. You’d run out of motivation, any drive to do anything but sleep and drag yourself to work had dissipated, at work you did what you needed to to get by and afterwards you went back to your place, even though Yagi’s was closer. Just being with someone else privately seemed like it would be overwhelming. Despite the fact that Yagi was the least overwhelming person on the planet, if anything you’d say he had the opposite effect, he was amazing at pulling your attention away from the little overwhelming details. However you couldn’t shake the gnawing nervousness that popped up at the thought of seeing him or anyone really. So when you crossed paths it was short, you poked into the school with lunch, into his place with dinner, you never stuck around to eat though. A conference call pulled you away, an important meeting you couldn’t be late for, you were catsitting and it needed your attention, you promised to call a relative and they’re just soo chatty, a late assignment needed tending to, all overused excuses that you normally practiced on everyone but Yagi, usually to get the pair of you out of an unwanted dinner or social event. You tried to avoid letting him into your apartment, you knew it was getting cluttered, you avoided the dishes and your laundry like the plague, putting another plate in the sink atop the pile only fanned your anxiety but the thought of actually cleaning it up makes you sicker than the sight of it. You tried to keep the front living room neat, luckily the overflowing sink was out of sight around a small corner, and the laundry cluttered a small closet out of sight as well. The only things out of place at first glance were the shoes, the coat rack and the copious amount of cups, cans and bottles littered around the apartment, some empty, some full, others in between.  Of course he noticed these things, to a passerby it wasn’t extreme, but Yagi sensed the shift in you like it was a shift in himself. Though you insisted it was fine, you were just exhausted, it was the busy season after all, come February things would plateau. You promised him. So he resigned, he trusted you after all if you said it was okay that must mean you were dealing with it on your own.  To be fair you were trying to. You honestly were. You just didn’t know how to ask for help in a way that didn’t make your stomach want to grow legs and run away from you. You said you were okay though, even if he didn’t totally buy it he’d wait patiently for you to tell him the problem, to seek him out. He knows how overwhelming it is for people to pry when you aren’t ready to divulge information. He doesn’t want to contribute to anymore bad feelings. However he could tell you were hiding something, still he plays dumb for your sake. He doesn’t try to poke further into your apartment, to your bedroom, or kitchen, places he’d normally allow himself without double checking with you, he doesn’t prod at you when you seem unusually emotional, when your excuse doesn’t hold up. He know’s you’ll come to him when you’re ready, at least that's the hope.  When you were like this a mediocre day is a terrible one, and a genuinely bad day is world ending. Today had been genuinely bad. You woke up early to prepare for a meeting, you put extra time into getting ready, you even stopped for a coffee at your favorite spot, all things you hadn’t had the energy to do even just a day ago, you really felt like today may be when things start looking up. But then the first coffee the barista made you was burnt, the machine was acting up, you assured her it was fine, it wasn’t her fault after all, you woke up early so you had time to wait for another one. Even that wasn’t really sullying your mood, it was nice to chat with the young girl while she remade your drink, there were no expectations of you, she didn’t care about pile of energy drink cans in your apartment, or the mountain of dishes in your sink, she didn’t even know the existed and she’d probably never consider that they did as a possibility. She was friendly and she always looked happy to see you. But then your bus was early and you missed it waiting for your coffee. You could see it receding down the street. It’s okay though, you woke up early. You had time. Then it was raining. Then the next bus arrived but skipped your stop so you had to walk. And suddenly all the time you put into your hair meant nothing.  Nothing terrible happened in the meeting, it was as lifeless and uneventful as ever, you weren’t sure what you were hoping for. And somehow your bus skips you stop again on the way home. Why hadn’t it stopped raining?  You’re about to climb into bed, drenched clothes and all when you hear someone knocking on your door. It was Yagi, you could recognize it anywhere.  “Hey Yagi I’m really-” You want to send him away, you do, you don’t want him seeing you so upset you felt like a child, but he just looked so concerned.  “I just got back.” You change your phrase last minute, “wanna come in?”  He sits on your couch, you appreciate how he doesn’t try to peek into the kitchen. You know you haven’t been subtle.  “I’ll wait here. You can go change into something warm. Please.” Yagi takes your hands, “and we can order dinner.” He wants to offer to make you tea, but something stops him from it. “You’re shaking. You must be freezing. I’m cold just looking at you. Go on, I’ll sit on the couch.” So you do what he says, sort of grateful for the demand since you would have fallen asleep like this, freezing and miserable and wet, and woken up sick the next morning.  “Much better! Good you even got a towel! Comfy?” He’s grinning at you as you round the corner, now in dryer, warmer apparel.  “Sit in front of me, I’ll dry your hair for you a little, it’s still dripping.” You nod as you follow his directions, any excuse to not have to look at his concerned face, getting out of his earnest blue gaze was top priority.  “The rain was totally out of left field huh? It even lasted all day.” His hands are big and warm, even through the towel how gentle his touch was is obvious.  “Yeah..” You draw your knees up to your chest, “I couldn’t seem to avoid it.”  “Well at least we can warm you up now.” You can tell his grinning again, trying to brighten up your mood. You felt like an ugly gloomy cloud, and he was a big bright cartoonish sun.  “Go ahead, you can lean your head on my leg, close your eyes. I can see your head drooping.”  You do that too. You sit there for a quiet 5 or so minutes, it does wonders to quell the nervousness in your stomach. You feel him pull the towel away and card big familiar hands through your only slightly damp hair. His palms are soft and comfortable against you, it feels right.  “You’re exhausted.” He observes, combing your hair off your forehead and pulling your head back a bit, closer to him.  “Mhm.” You don't open your eyes to give your minimal reply, instead thoughtlessly coiling an arm around his leg.  “Why don’t you come sit up here with me? It’ll be more comfortable. Your hair’s much dryer now.”  “You don’t have to baby me.” You stand up then, “I’m alright.”  “Ok I won’t baby you.” Yagi’s smile is soft and he casts it upwards to where you stand before him, “how about some tea? Are you up for making it? I’m still a little cold from the rain. Then after that you can some back and sit with me. Not because I want to baby you, but because I want to sit with you okay?” “okay..” You relent, “I can do that.”  “Perfect. I’ll wait here.”  You don’t know why you bit at him like that. You watch the kettle warm up as the guilt gnaws at you. It’s not like you were mean. All you did was tell him not to baby you. That wasn’t mean. You didn’t bite at him. But you kind of did. He was just trying to help. You aren’t mad at him so why are you mad? You open the cabinet. Of course there’s not a single mug to be found. You venture to the sink in search of two.  You’ve found the last one by the time the kettle starts to whistle which startles you enough to get you to drop the stupid glassware. The ceramic shattering on the floor is sort of akin to a dam breaking. Tears are stinging your eyes.  Things were looking up, Yagi was here, he was gonna take care of you, you were gonna feel better and now this stupid mug. You crouch down to pick it up.  “Are you alright? I heard a crash?” Yagi’s there, of course he is.  “Hey be careful, you’ll cut yourself.” He’s turning heat below the kettle off, "sweetheart here l-" and then rushing toward you. "I've got it." You were collecting the bigger shards in your hand. "Let me. I’ll get a broom, before you cut yourself. Please let me." He insists and you snap, ever so slightly, "Yagi. I said I have it."  “Hey, okay, it’s okay," he takes a step back, "do you wanna be alone for a minute?" He offers and you sigh, "Tosh I just-" then you slice your palm open, "oh fuck everything," you hiss and drop the bits you were holding and Yagi kneels beside you, "hey." "I'm sorry." You could feel yourself starting to cry, the stinging tears pouring out, "i'm sorry I got so short with you." "Hey it's fine, I understand." Yagi murmurs, a large hand rubbing your back, "it's alright, leave this for now so we can clean your hand up." He takes your wrist in his hand, but you don’t say anything. “Do you hear me?" "Yes." You nod, and take in a deep breath, "yes I hear you...yeah let me just get the-" "It's okay, the shards aren’t going anywhere." You just sort of stare at the muddled mess of ceramic and now a bit of blood mixed up on the floor. "Hey." Yagi takes your face in his hands, "look at me." "I'm looking at you." Your lips barely move. "No, look at me, not through me. Ignore the mug, look at me." He presses and so you do, you focus on him, his face, his eyes, his nose, his hands on your cheeks, the warmth that radiated from him. "Let's clean you up." You nod, "yeah. Sorry." "Don't be sor-" Yagi stops himself, "it's alright, not a big deal. No permanent damage. Go sit on the couch, I’ll get the first aid kit.” “My bathroom’s really-”  “It’s alright.” He promises, “it’s okay. I’m here to help you. That doesn’t bother me. None of this,” he gestures around, “bothers me. I’m here for you, whatever you need that to mean. Go sit down okay?” He wipes a stream of tears away. It’s quickly replaced but it’s a nice gesture.  You do manage to get the loudest tears out before Yagi comes in. "Alright let's see the damage." He opens the first aid kit on the arm of the couch beside him, "does it hurt?" "No-" Your voice gives your current state away. "Sweetheart.." Yagi kisses your temple, "come on.." "I'm sorry-" "I don't mean like that." "I know-" You wipe your eyes, "I know..I’m sorry I just-" He shushes you and extends a hand, you hold out your palm to him, you had pressed an old face cloth to it which did help ebb the bleeding a bit. "It's not that bad." You murmur as he wipes the blood away, "just a lotta blood.." “That’s how it always is.” He murmurs as he presses the wet cloth to the cut and pulls your hands up to his lips, kissing the damp fabric over the wound. You tilt your head at the sight of it, "I love you Tosh..I’m sorry." "It’s okay sweetheart, it’s alright. I love you too." He murmurs back, squeezing the cloth for a little longer before pulling it away. He goes through the routine you'd so regularly followed on him, before, when he was All Might all the time, cuts and bumps and head injuries that you always tended to for him, you cleaned up all his wounds before wrapping some bandage around it and kissing it, he mimics the routine on you "good?" "Good." You nod back voice soft and wet with tears. "I'm no expert but..did pick up a few things from one." He grins and you snort a little which makes him coo, "hey there's that smile 've been missing." He kisses the high of your cheek, "how do you feel?" "A little better..." You nod, "sorry you had to see that..." "I know that you feel like you have to apologize for everything but trust me okay? Stuff like this? I'll always rather help with. It's never a chore, but even if it were that’s okay. I want to be there for you." He kisses your forehead, "I wanna make you happy." "Then.. thank you I guess.." You look up at him and he wraps you in a hug. You spend a comfortable few moments there until he pulls away. "Don’t mention it...now," He stands and takes you with him, "let's go clean up the mug? Together. Then we’ll sort out the other stuff tomorrow, together too.” 

[spencers-renaissance]

Start With This

Summary: Luke accidentally hurts Spencer because they are both hopelessly stupid, but when Spencer's faced with a dangerous situation there's nothing he wants more than Luke. Calling him turns out to be a very good decision.

Tags: Hurt/Comfort, Angst with a Happy Ending, Fluff, Misunderstandings, Making Up, Getting Together

Pairing: Luke x Spencer

Word Count: 3.9k

Warnings: implied/mentioned sexual assault, more detailed cw on the end notes of the AO3 post <3

Read on AO3

Luke knows he’s getting obvious. His subtlety has completely thrown itself out the window, his dignity’s in the wind, and he’s so, so painfully aware of it all. 

He was probably in love with Spencer before he even met the man: his reputation had preceded him -- as he’d told him that first day in the briefing room -- and the way his friends talked about him, the gentleness he seemed to possess along with the dynamite intelligence of a 187 IQ had his stomach fluttering as he walked in to meet him for the first time. And hadn’t that just sealed the deal. 

Spencer’s face as he walked into the room feels like it’s been permanently burned into the back of his eyelids ever since. He’s not sure what he’d been expecting but it certainly wasn’t someone so adorable. He’d been so open and welcoming and they’d hit it off straight away, every look shared between them, every joint task on the case in Arizona had him buzzing with excitement. If he could spend every waking moment with Spencer, he would. 

And he’s been so good at keeping it under wraps, but lately the looks the girls and Rossi have been sending his way are a bit too… knowing. Like they see right through him. It’s terrifying, really. He’s never had a bad coming out story, mostly because he didn’t until his late twenties when it was much less taboo to be gay and he was surrounded by people who cared far too much about him as a person to care about who he fucked. But he’s also never had a crush on a coworker before, not even a friend, so to be under so much scrutiny in a situation that feels so out of his depths is overwhelming to say the least.

The next case they take on, then, he takes extra caution to be subtle. He volunteers to pair up with others before Emily can assign him something with Spencer; he ignores the looks he directs his way and leaves him behind to room with JJ while he pairs up with Steven. Maybe it’s even more obvious, maybe the looks he’s getting now are far harder to deal with than the ones before but he’s made his bed. Now he’ll lie in it.

And he’ll pointedly refuse to acknowledge the hurt looks Spencer is shooting his way. It’s better to ruffle a few feathers now and get over his crush than ruin such a good friendship and drive a wedge through the team, even if his gut twists and his heart protests as Spencer furrows his brow and looks at his feet.

★

Spencer is fully aware that his chances with Luke are slim to none -- he’s not delusional -- but boy does it hurt being avoided like the plague. It takes him back to school, when he was either politely ignored, mocked from a distance or straight up bullied, when nobody could associate themselves with him without risking a beating of their own. 

As soon as the case is over, he declines Emily’s invitation to go for a drink at her place with the rest of the team, instead opting to go out by himself. There’s a small, hole-in-the-wall joint a few blocks from his apartment that he’s been to a few times; it’s low-key and reasonably quiet, and the food is nice, too. It’ll do him good, he thinks, to get out of his head a bit with a few drinks and a book or three. He’s met the guy who owns the place a few times, and no-one pays enough attention to care that he’s reading a book at a bar instead of solemnly staring into a pint or gyrating on the dance floor, neither of which especially appeal to him.

As predicted, the bar is quiet, so he orders a drink and some nachos and heads to a table in the back. He used to hate bars; so full of people and germs he tended to avoid them at all costs. Now though, he finds the background noise soothing, the chatter and music a comforting backdrop to his own isolation. And on days like today, after difficult cases and tricky emotional minefields to navigate, it’s the perfect setting to sit quietly and read, far more preferable than the deafening silence of his apartment. 

For some reason, though, he simply cannot get his mind off Luke. He was so hopelessly gone for him and it was making everyday tasks that much harder. Even psyching himself up to get out of bed and go to work was proving more and more difficult: knowing he would have to face the man he loved so much who clearly did not love him back was bordering on psychological torture at this point. 

His one saving grace, though, was that he’d always been able to take refuge in the fact that they were friends. That even if he could never have Luke kiss him or take him on a date or sleep in his bed, he could have his friendship. He’d have the warm smiles and hugs and inside jokes and that would be enough. But now even that was seeming like a farflung pipe dream. Had he figured him out? Did he realise Spencer’s feelings for him and feel disgusted? Violated even? 

It’s only after Spencer’s been reading the same page over and over for nearly 10 minutes that he gives up and orders another drink. If he can’t distract himself, he may as well drown his sorrows now he’s here. 

And drown them he does. He finally stumbles onto the pavement outside the bar in the small hours of the morning feeling a little dazed and confused, and he squints his eyes as he tries to get his bearings. He lives round here, he knows that much, but where? He’s looking around for a taxi when a man he’d seen sitting not far from him in the bar approaches him. 

“Hey, baby,” he grins, checking Spencer out as obviously as he’d been doing inside.

It takes Spencer’s mind only a few seconds to recognise that he’s in a potentially vulnerable or dangerous situation but he can’t for the life of him sort through his muddled brain fast enough to figure out the correct response, here. Instead he stares dumbly at the man in front of him, trying to not look as scared as he feels. 

“You looking for a good time?” the man asks, reaching a hand forward to pet crudely at his face. Spencer wishes his flinch wasn’t so obviously borne from terror, but he’s sad and drunk and confused so all he can do is shake his head aggressively and back away. “Aww, come on. I’m a catch, I promise.”

Spencer jumps back further, his back hitting a brick wall as he finally finds his voice. “No, leave me alone, thank you,” he says, trying to sound firm but only sounding scared shitless. The man is huge, Spencer is not, and the street is quiet. Spencer does not like any of these variables, let alone a cocktail made from them. 

The man laughs cruelly, but before he gets a chance to respond another beefy guy he recognises from inside the bar comes over, cigarette in his hand, and clocks the situation. “Oi,” he shouts aggressively, approaching the two of them. “Who the fuck do you think you are? Dude said no.”

“Oh yeah? And what are you gonna do about it?”

Before Spencer can blink, the beefy guy punches his assailant square in the eye, causing him to cuss them both out before telling Spencer he isn’t even worth the trouble and leaving to lick his wounds. “Hey, you okay?” the beefy dude asks, voice much softer when talking to Spencer. “You need me to call someone?”

At this moment, the only person Spencer wants is Luke. He’s shaken up and so sad, and even if Luke is sort of the reason for that, he has to try, right? Maybe… maybe he just was having a bad day and it isn’t Spencer at all. He could call JJ but even her cuddles wouldn’t scratch the itch that’s burning away at his skin, so he finally shakes his head at the guy looking at him with concern. “No, no it’s okay,” he says slowly, voice catching a little. “I know who to call.”

★

Luke also says no to Emily’s invitation, instead heading back to his own place and cracking open a bottle of wine before plonking himself in front of the team and appreciating the cuddles Roxy chooses to bestow on him. He throws in an oven pizza sometime around 11pm and eats it, laughing humourlessly at the scene for a moment. God, if his colleagues could see just how pathetic he is Emily would have to boot him off the team. 

The wine and the warm temperature of the room have him dozing off on the sofa by midnight but he’s woken up abruptly by his phone ringing not long after. The clock on the wall says 1.50am so this is either a case or an emergency; blearily he picks it up to see Spencer’s name on the screen and he can’t slide his finger to answer it fast enough. 

“Spencer?” he asks, voice full of concern. 

The only reply is a choked off sob, making Luke sit up on high alert. “Spence, what’s wrong?” his voice is gentle but determined, he wants to know what’s wrong so he can fix it damnit.

“Can you-- Can you come and get me?” Spencer asks tearfully. He sounds hesitant like he thinks Luke might say no or be angry with him which doesn’t make any sense. He’d never feel like that, not for anything Spencer needs from him. 

“Of course,” he reassures him, gently, still a little bewildered by the absurdity of it all. He springs into action and leaps off the sofa, slipping into some trainers and grabbing his keys. “Where are you, Spence? I’m on my way to the car.”

Spencer rattles off an address before he says, “Wait, don’t go, can you stay on the phone with me?”

Luke’s heart damn near melts at that but he obeys and stays on the phone with him, mumbling platitudes and promising he’s on his way the whole five minute drive until he pulls up in front of the address Spencer gave him, immediately spotting the younger man hunched down against a wall. He parks the car quickly and rushes over, crouching down in front of Spencer and gently pulling his head away from his knees so he can look into his eyes. He immediately recognises he’s drunk and sighs internally, hoping this won’t be too impossible. 

“Hey, Spence, what’s going on?” he asks earnestly, holding onto the man’s forearms partially to help steady himself and partially to offer a noninvasive point of contact for Spencer. 

“Sad,” Spencer says, looking into Luke’s eyes with wide, honest eyes. “You’re angry at me.”

“What?” Luke asks incredulously. “I’m not angry at you, Spencer.”

“Yes,” Spencer nods enthusiastically. “You wanted to work with other people on the case today. You were ignoring me.”

He’s not quite slurring his words but it’s close, and if Luke wasn’t so concerned about the situation at hand he’d find it adorable. “Oh, Spencer, no,” he protests, a sinking feeling in his chest. His own insecurities and fears had got the better of him and he’d managed to make Spencer feel bad about himself. “That was unrelated and not your fault at all, okay? It’s complicated and definitely not a conversation to have on the ground outside a bar at 2am, but we can talk about it somewhere else if you’d like. Do you want me to take you back to your place?”

Spencer looks back at him. “No, don’t want to be alone, please don’t leave me on my own, Luke,” he says, eyes wide in fear this time, not honesty. 

“Okay, okay,” he placates him. “Would you like to come back to mine?”

Spencer launches forward to hug Luke, burying his face into his neck and Luke takes the opportunity to relish the feeling of Spencer’s lithe body against his own, the intimacy he craves so deeply finally being awarded in a small way. “Should I take that as a yes?” he chuckles.

As soon as they get into Luke’s apartment, he gets to sobering Spencer up. He’d managed to pry the number of drinks he’d had out of him in the car, and as soon as they get back he butters him some toast and gives him a glass of water to drink on the sofa while he fills up another glass and grabs some advil. 

“How’s that, Spence, are you okay?” he asks softly as he joins him on the sofa where Spencer is dutifully munching down the toast while late-night TV plays in the background. 

“Yeah,” he whispers, smiling up at Luke, already looking more lucid than he did on the street, though he suspects part of the reason was he was scared and a bit disoriented then and now feels safe. “Thank you.”

“You don’t have to thank me, Spencer,” he smiles back, patting his knee affectionately as he pours him another glass of water. “Have your toast and another glass of water and then you can have a shower, if you like. It’ll help ground you and warm you up a bit.”

Spencer’s compliant through it all, which is obviously desirable, but he’s also quiet. He takes the hoodie Luke chucks his way without comment and slips it on -- Luke very pointedly does not think about how good he looks -- before looking to him for his next direction. 

His eyes are much clearer now and he seems far more sad than drunk, so Luke steers him back to the sofa and hands him a blanket. “Hey, Spencer,” he says, waiting for him to look up before continuing. “What’s going on? Why did you need me to pick you up?”

Spencer fidgets with the blanket as he answers. “Well, I went to the bar to stop thinking, like distract myself, but it didn’t really work so I just decided to have some wine instead, which was really nice and I liked the fuzziness, but then when I left there was this man. He came up to me and was trying to… like he was trying to ask me to sleep with him,” he risks a quick look up to check if Luke is listening to him but averts his eyes from the intense stare when he realises he is. “But I couldn’t remember what I was supposed to do and I panicked but then this man came out of the bar and he punched the other guy and helped me but then I called you so he didn’t have to do anything else.” His voice is nervous as he talks, clearly unsure of himself from the way he darts around from point to point, his typical eloquence evading him. 

“I’m sorry, Spencer,” Luke says, earnestly. “I’m sorry that happened to you but I’m even more sorry that you were sad enough to drown your sorrowsbecause of me. Tomorrow, I promise we can talk about this and I’ll explain everything, but right now I think you should sleep. You can take my bed or the sofa tonight, whichever one makes you feel more comfortable, and then I’ll make you whatever you want for breakfast in the morning and we can chat. How does that sound?”

Spencer looks satisfied for now, cocking his head to the side. “Hm, can I have pancakes?” he asks.

Luke laughs fondly at that, leaning forward to ruffle Spencer’s hair lightly as he tries not to read into it when Spencer leans into his touch. “Are you kidding?” he teases. “You’re looking at the pancake maker extraordinaire right here.” He relishes Spencer’s giggle at that, pleased at how relaxed he looks now he knows Luke isn’t angry at him. “Pancakes in the morning. For now, where would you like to sleep?”

“The sofa’s fine,” Spencer says softly, a small smile playing over his face as he follows Luke with his eyes as he stands up to collect some blankets and pillows. “Thank you, Luke.”

“You don’t have to thank me,” he smiles back, and hands him the extra blankets and cushions. “We’ll talk in the morning.”

★

Spencer wakes up to the sound of dog paws on wooden floors and is momentarily confused -- he does not have a dog nor wooden floors -- before the events of last night flood into his head with a crashing wave of humiliation. He sits up abruptly, blinking his eyes against the soft grey light of the gloomy day, and looks around until he meets Luke’s eyes where he’s sat drinking a cup of coffee at the dining table. 

He knows he’s flushing an embarrassing shade of red but he can’t help it, this whole situation is so bizarre. “Good morning,” he finally says.

“Morning Spencer,” Luke says, hiding his far-too-wide smile behind his coffee mug. “Did you sleep okay?”

He just nods and hums in response, before excusing himself and rushing to the bathroom for a small semblance of privacy. Looking in the mirror, he splashes his face with some cold water and fiddles with his hair until it’s sat the way he wants it to before taking some deep breaths in a vain attempt at composure. He’s sort of in love with Luke, being in his apartment like this is mildly intoxicating. 

Eventually, he surfaces back in the main living area where Luke’s already started on the pancakes. “Hey, you good?” he calls over his shoulder as he flips the pan, a delish smell intoxicating the kitchen.

“I’m good,” Spencer confirms, joining him in the kitchen for a front row seat of Luke cooking. Chatting menially together as the pancake stash slowly builds, Spencer gathers all the toppings at Luke’s direction before they move to sit at the table and start tucking in, both trying to ignore the rising tension at what they both know is coming.

“You’re being so nice to me now but all throughout the case you barely looked at me, I mean you couldn’t even share a room with me in the hotel,” Spencer says after a few moments of silent apprehension as they have their first bites. “Is it… is it because I’m gay?” His voice drops to a whisper, face contorting from confusion to apprehension, feeling a little nervous that Luke might get angry now he’s reminded him of it.

“What, no, Spencer, of course not,” Luke says defensively. “God, I’m not a homophobe. The exact opposite, actually. I’m gay, too.”

“Oh.” 

“Yeah.” Luke puts his knife and fork down and runs a hand over his face as he psychs himself up. “That’s the problem. The truth is, I’m into you, Spencer, very much so. And I’m fully aware that you’re my best friend and you won’t feel the same way, so… that’s a problem. The others were starting to realise so I distanced myself, but it has nothing to do with you, it’s all me so please don’t blame yourself, alright?”

“Oh.” Spencer’s brain is short-circuiting.

“I’m sorry, I just needed to explain why I acted like that.” Luke apologises, sitting forward again. “I know this is probably making you uncomfortable, I can drop you back or call you a cab or something--”

“No,” Spencer says suddenly, snapping back into action as the information finally processes. Leaving right now is the last thing he wants. “No, I’m fine. Sorry, I’m just caught off guard. You… like me?”

“Well, yeah,” Luke smiles, a little awkwardly. “If you want to put it like that.”

“Oh.” He pauses for a moment as everything finally clicks into place. “We are both very stupid.”

“Why’s that?”

“Because the primary reason I was sad and drinking at a bar alone last night was because I am very much in love with you and feared you were pushing me away. That I’d lost my chance forever,” Spencer explains. “I don’t have much experience with relationships, so I didn’t know how to deal with it and when you started acting distant I did the same and… ran away, I guess.”

Luke’s glad that Spencer’s eyes are clear this morning and his eloquence is back or he’d fear he’s still somehow drunk out of his mind still and has no idea what he’s saying. “Oh.” It’s his turn to blank on a response. 

“To be honest, Luke, I don’t know where to go from here,” Spencer laughs, a little awkwardly.

“Let’s start with this,” Luke says, getting up from his seat across the table and sliding into the chair next to Spencer, bridging the gap between the two before he kisses him gently. Spencer’s hand reaches forward to grip the front of his shirt, kissing back with just as much trusting desire as he feels Luke smile against his lips. They part at the kiss’ natural conclusion, pulling back to look at each other, tense awkwardness replaced with a new understanding of one another. 

“Yeah,” Spencer smiles. “That feels like a good start.”

It’s a good start, but it’s by no means the end. The heaviness that had weighed between them for so long finally lifts and the lightness that replaces it means they both breathe easier, finishing their pancakes in between shy, cautious looks and shameless giggles. “Do you have anything you need to do today?” Luke asks as he washes their plates up, Spencer perched on the kitchen counter next to him. 

“Nope,” Spencer says, smiling at the implication of such an answer. 

“Well, what do you feel like doing?” he asks, wearing far too cheeky of a grin for Spencer to avoid leaning down and planting a kiss on his lips. 

“Hm,” Spencer ponders, looking out the window at the rainy day. “I think movies and snacks would be perfect if I have you as company.”

“You smooth little thing,” Luke teases, poking Spencer’s side with a wet finger and delighting in the giggle that escaped his lips. “That sounds perfect to me.” He washes the frying pan last and quickly wipes down the kitchen before they head to the sofa, arms piled high with all the crisps, chocolate and cookies they can find in his cupboards. Spencer also digs about in the freezer and finds a pint of ice cream to share, which they feed each other bites of later in a sickeningly sweet, cliched moment of tenderness.

Luke chooses the first movie, picking out a Marvel film that Spencer ends up actually enjoying, though Luke can’t exactly say the same about Spencer’s choice, an obscure period piece from the 1960s. Still, he cuddles him close and pays attention to every minute. If it matters to Spencer, it matters to him. 

And if wasting the day away with movies, snacks, and heart to hearts turns out to be exhausting enough that Spencer just has to stay the night again, this time sharing Luke’s bed with him and Roxy, then they’ll just have to make the absolute most out of such a terribly inconvenient situation. And they’ll deal with how to hide a 2 night love-fest from a team of profilers in the morning, because they’re far too oblivious to realise they already know.

Tags: @johanna-swann @pretty-b0yy 

[marshmallow-phd]

Midnight Hours

Part of The Untamed - EXO Wolf Universe

Genre: Wolf!AU

Pairing: Sehun x Reader

Summary: For you, being a good witch was easier said than done. Something dark was lurking inside of you and the others knew it. When you’re forced to tag along with Soomi and help a local wolfpack face a coming evil, you’re sent on a path that breaks into a crossroads. While you struggle with your inner demons, could the wolf Sehun be the key to your ultimate fate?

Part: 1 I 2 I 3 I 4 I 5 I 6 I 7 I 8 I 9 I 10 I 11 I 12 I 13 I 14 I 15 I 16 I 17 I Final

**

You weren’t so much as “packing” as you were throwing clothes into the suitcase that was currently lying open on your bed. Sure, everything would be wrinkled and disorganized, but your annoyance and frustration refused to let you care. You weren’t even paying much attention to what you were grabbing from the closet and dresser drawers. All you were told was to pack enough clothes for a long stay.

A long stay. What did that entail? A few weeks? A month? Until the blood moon? And what if the blood moon arrived and nothing happened? Would you have to stay until the next one after that or would be allowed to come home until the next vision hit?

After throwing the pair of jeans in your hands towards the mountain forming in your suitcase, you landed hard on your back on top of the messy covers, whining the whole way. Hands folded on your stomach, you stared up at the ceiling, contemplating your life.

The only thing you wanted was to be left alone. You wanted the visions to leave you alone. You wanted the elder witches to leave you alone. Hell, sometimes you even wanted Soomi to leave you alone. You wanted to be allowed to be who you were without someone trying to channel the path you were supposed to take.

It wasn’t fair. It was like you weren’t allowed to make any mistakes. Markl could accidentally make Mother Adansonia lose her eyebrows and Martha could mix up the potions and cause the whole coven to fall asleep for an entire weekend, but you weren’t allowed to even spill a cup of water. You had to keep all toes in line. You had to basically do the impossible and be perfect. Or else you would be considered a danger to the world and the mothers could take drastic action.

Now you were being forced to leave and… do what, exactly? What were you supposed to do once you reached the wolves? Say “hey there’s this weird blonde woman who’s going to do… something on the blood moon? We don’t know yet but we thought you mutts might have an idea?”

You snorted to yourself. Yeah. You couldn’t wait for that conversation.

A soft knock came from your door and Soomi poked her head inside the room. “Are you almost ready?”

You sat up, folding your hands in your lap. “Um, yeah. Almost.”

But your answer couldn’t hide the monstrous pile beside you. Shaking her head, Soomi stepped in and started folding your clothes for you, arranging them in a somewhat organized manner that would allow the luggage to close when the time came.

“This might not be all bad,” Soomi insisted. You gave her a side eyed glance that let her know how much you believed her, but stayed quiet. “Their farmhouse is surrounded by woods, a little less than an hour outside the city.”

“More total isolation,” you murmured. “Joy.”

Mother Willow’s cottage wasn’t completely all alone out here. The other mothers’ homes were scattered around in a randomized fashion, their only connection being a gravel road that most ordinary humans could never find. Every once in a while, a stray hiker would stumble across the coven, but Mother Sumire had a talent in memory potions disguised as lemonade.

It was a rare treat for you to be able to venture into town. Mother Willow would sometimes send you to get groceries or allow you to buy new clothes at the tiny boutiques, but you were never alone. You felt like a parolee under strict observation. If they turned their backs, you’d be on the run. And maybe they were on to something. The thought had never really crossed your mind until now, running away. Really the only thing stopping you was the fact that you had nowhere to go. You didn’t know how to truly function in non-magic society. The coven had been your entire world and the idea of not having it to fall back on was terrifying.

Besides, you couldn’t break Soomi’s already fragile heart.

“I was implying that you could have quite a bit of alone time,” Soomi hinted at with a side glance of her own. “To practice….”

You scoffed. “You wouldn’t rat me out?”

Soomi pursed her lips, keeping her focus on folding the shirt in her hands. “I am saying nothing of the kind. There are all different kinds of plants for you to study there. That’s all I meant.”

Of course. “I’m sure I can find sort of leaf that I haven’t seen before.”

With your suitcase properly packed now, Soomi zipped it closed and turned to you. Sadness and worry glistened in her eyes. Cupping the back of your head in her hand, she kissed the top of your head. “I’ll be out at the car when you’re ready.”

Alone once again, you took a few last mental pictures of your room. Would it be covered in dust by the time you got back? Would you be coming back? An ominous feeling was settling in the pit of your stomach. Things would be different after this trip, there was no doubt about that. You couldn’t verbalize what it was that would change or be altered, but you had a feeling that you were starting down a path that would take you to a place you couldn’t come back from.

Sliding your suitcase off the bed and pulling up on the collapsible handle, you rolled the bits of your life that you were taking with you out of that room and down the hall to whatever unknown future awaited you.

**

Sehun sat at the table of the coffee shop, staring blankly out the window. People - ordinary people with ordinary lives - passed on by in groups of twos and threes. They laughed and chatted amongst themselves as they gripped their shopping bags or pushed their strollers down the sidewalk to their next destination. Leaning forward, he took a long sip of the bubble tea in front of him.

Luhan was late, but that was nothing new. He was always antsy leaving his mate, terrified that even after all these months, her old organization would hunt her down and take her away. Not that he could be blamed, but Harper insisted that she’d covered her tracks and made it seem like she’d perished in the explosion that destroyed several buildings on their compound. Her sister – the only one in her family to know the truth - was sworn to secrecy and no one had even come sniffing around their town as far as they knew.

Sehun snorted. Sniffing around. His jokes were getting about as bad Junmyeon’s.

“Do you want another one?”

Straightening up, Sehun turned to see who’d offered him another drink. It was Jinyoung’s coworker – Mia or Mandy or… something that started with “M”. He looked down to find that his drink was, in fact, empty save for a few surviving boba. When did that happen?

“No, thank you,” Sehun answered flatly. “I’ll be fine.”

“Are you sure?” she smiled coyly at him. “It’d be on the house.”

As tempting as a free drink was, he didn’t care to accept the implications behind it. “No, thank you,” he repeated. “I don’t need another one.”

Unfortunately, she wasn’t deterred in the slightest. “Well, if you change your mind, you know where to find me.” She winked at him before turning away, nearly colliding with the body that was running towards the table. “Oh, hey, Luhan.”

Sehun perked up. Finally.

“Hey, Marcie!” Luhan waved as he collapsed in the chair across from Sehun. He gave an apologetic look. “Sorry, I’m late.”

Sehun shrugged, holding back the pout that was pushing on his lips. “It’s fine. I get it.”

“But we rarely get to hang out anymore,” Luhan went on.

And whose fault is that, Sehun really wanted to ask. But the true answer was no one. It wasn’t anyone’s fault. Luhan had found his mate and then nearly lost her. He couldn’t blame the wolf for wanting to make up for lost time. The only trade off was Sehun being left in the dust.

Luhan glanced over his shoulder and smirked. “Marcie’s really got a thing for you.”

Not really caring for the direction of the conversation, Sehun kept his focus on the straw that was housed in his cup, “So?”

Realizing the fruitless effort, Luhan sighed. “Never mind.”

Sehun held back the sigh of relief. When will the others realize that he simply wasn’t interested?

As if she heard her name from all the way on the other side of the café, Marcie came back over, a cup of water in one hand and a napkin in the other.

“In case you get thirsty,” she practically purred as she put both objects down and walked away.

Sehun took one look at the napkin and groaned. “Okay, let’s go.”

Luhan tilted his head. “Why? I just got here.”

“Too bad.” Sehun stood up, the legs of the chair scraping against the fake wooden floor. “You should have been on time.”

“At least let me- ah!” Luhan snickered when his eyes finally landed on the napkin. Marcie’s number was written carefully across the paper in blue ink. The older wolf started to reach for it, but Sehun’s reflexes were faster and he slammed the plastic cup down on top before it could be snatched away.

“Leave it,” Sehun demanded through gritted teeth. Luhan rolled his eyes and stood up, obeying the request. Both of them left the café without a single glance towards the cash register. Sehun didn’t care if her feelings were hurt. She should have gotten the message the first time around.

Quickly forgetting the encounter, the two of them hurried down the sidewalk towards the hair supply store. That was the real reason Sehun had called Luhan out. He needed one last opinion to see if he should really do this or not. Or to tell him no so he could solidify his resolve to do it.

Some might say it was an attention thing. And maybe it was. Maybe it was a test to see who noticed or how even cared. Either way, he needed a drastic change. Something that would shift his world even in the slightest of ways. His life had become too routine, too mundane. And that was saying a lot for a supernatural creature.

“I thought you had plenty of dye at home?” Luhan asked once they reached the hair color section.

Sehun shrugged as he roamed over the different selections available in front of him. “It’s all the same. I want to try something else.”

“Sure,” Luhan nodded. “Everyone wants a change. And too many of us are blon- whoa, what are you doing?”

Picking up one of the more radical colors, Sehun simply raised an eyebrow before moving on to the sheers. “Do you think Hae In could help me with this part?”

Luhan stared at the youngest wolf in disbelief. “When you said different… you really meant it, didn’t you?”

“Kind of the point, Luhan,” Sehun replied dryly.

Knowing that he wouldn’t be able to talk him out of it, Luhan sighed. “Actually, I think Kimberly will be the one to ask. I’d be a little terrified of the idea of Hae In with scissors near my face.”

Sehun thought it over before nodding in agreement. “You’re right. Let’s go.”

He headed towards the front before he could even think about changing his mind.

**

The sun was completely gone by the time you arrived at the farmhouse. Soomi put the car in park near the front porch and gently shook you awake. High pitched groans and whines vibrated in your throat as you sat up and rubbed your eyes.

“Hey, sleepyhead,” Soomi giggled at you.

You frowned at her through squinty eyes before yawning and stretching out your limbs. The only light to see by came from the front porch and from the heavy duty spotlight on top of the giant detached garage. The long, two-story house was planted near the edge of the giant circular field. Soomi was right, they really were in the middle of the woods. Nothing but trees filled your vision no matter which direction you looked.

“Come on.” Soomi cut off the engine and popped the trunk before hopping out of her seat. You followed behind at a slower pace, still partially asleep from your less than satisfactory nap.

Suitcase in hand, you shut the trunk lid and struggled up the stairs of the porch. Maybe you’d packed a little too much.

With her dainty little fist, Soomi knocked on the door. At first, you thought she’d done it a little too softly as the two of you stood there, nothing happening. With how late it was, you were sure most – if not all – the habitants were asleep. You really didn’t feel like waiting out here all night. Rolling your eyes, you lifted your own knuckles to hit it harder when the door suddenly swung open.

Junmyeon, leader of the pack and Soomi’s once-upon-a-crush, stood the doorway, his eyelids flickering from being up so late.

Soomi chewed on her bottom lip guilty. “I’m sorry, Junmyeon, we meant to come earlier.”

“No, don’t apologize,” the alpha motioned at the two of you. “Come on in.” He opened the door wider and took ahold both of suitcases, lifting them and taking them inside the house with barely any effort on his part.

“Thank you, again, for doing this, Junmyeon,” Soomi sighed as she shut the door behind you.

Junmyeon shook his head as put the suitcases down next to the couch. “No, Soomi, you’re the one who should be thanked. You’ve been keeping us informed about what could be coming since the beginning and you didn’t have to. You have your own family to worry about. I’m sure once the boys hear about what else (y/n)’s seen, they’ll start taking it a little more seriously.”

You fought the urge to make some sort of snide comment. It wasn’t surprising that the wolves weren’t concerned in the slightest over your little visions. If they weren’t coming to you in the first place, you wouldn’t think much of them either.

But you could feel the dark cloud that came with each scene. The fear, the evil. Each one came with a presence, a lingering darkness that you couldn’t see but absolutely terrified you. Whenever you relayed the episodes to Soomi, you’d downplayed your worry. But you couldn’t stop figuratively glancing over your shoulder as if that presence would personify at any moment.

Had it already in the shape of that woman?

“Are they all asleep already?” Soomi asked.

Junmyeon nodded. “I told them that you were coming, but not when. I thought it best that the two of you rest before meeting them. They can be… rambunctious at the best of times. I didn’t want to overwhelm (y/n).”

“I remember how they can be,” Soomi chuckled softly. Glancing at you, she sighed. “I guess we can just crash here for now.”

“Actually, one of the guys is in town with his mate. You can take his room for the night. We’ll figure out your long term place in the morning.”

Soomi pursed her lips. “If you’re sure that won’t be a problem….”

“Not at all,” Junmyeon insisted. “Jongin would volunteer anyway if he were here. Let me show you to the room. You must be exhausted.”

As if on cue, you yawned, earning a chuckle out of the elders in the room.

Careful not to make too much noise, you followed the alpha up the stairs towards one of the rooms in the middle of the long hallway. He opened the door and ushered you inside before turning on the light.

“The bathroom is across the way in case you need it,” he told the two of you softly. “In the morning just come down whenever you’re ready. We’ll have breakfast for you.”

“Thank you,” Soomi nodded.

At your silence, she elbowed you in the stomach. You scowled at her before muttering, “Thanks.”

Junmyeon didn’t seem to take offense, laughing to himself. “Good night.”

As soon as the two of you were alone, you dived into your suitcase, pulling out the large t-shirt and comfortable shorts you’d packed away to sleep in. When you were changed, you hopped in between the covers and settled in. Soomi moved at a slightly slower pace, taking her time before shutting off the light and climbing in beside you.

“Soomi?” you whispered after a few minutes of silence.

“Hm?” Great. She was already drifting off to sleep.

“How long do you think we’ll be here?” Not exactly what you wanted to ask, but you decided against the more emotional road while she was only partially awake.

“Until the blood moon, probably,” she murmured. You didn’t ask anything else and soon she was fast asleep beside you.

You lied there, staring up at the ceiling for what seemed like ages. While you were completely drained, your mind refused to shut off and let you get some rest. Your eyes fought to stay closed, but that wasn’t the same as being off in dreamland.

While your mind was churning over how the morning’s events would play out, your ears picked up on the squeak of floorboards outside. Never the one to turn down your curiosity, you carefully slid out of bed and tiptoed over to the door. Praying that the hinges didn’t squeak, you pulled the door open at a snail’s pace. Right in front of you, there was nothing. Then, you risked peeking your head out farther.

Your eyes took a second to adjust to the dimly lit area. Just as they were able to interpret what they were seeing, you found the source of the noise. Down at the other end of the hallway, a door was opened. One of the wolves must have come home late. You didn’t see much of him, just the broad shoulders hidden under a plain t-shirt before he disappeared into the bedroom. Shrugging at the anticlimactic discovery, you closed your own door and headed back to the bed to, hopefully, finally get some rest before the next big adventure that waited for you in the morning.

[raleigh-ocean]

be mine (with all what’s inside) | bobbi morse x astrid winters

words: 4,782

requested by myself: Bobbi isn’t really good at this but when she start to feel that she wants more, she thinks that she can totally get better at it. And all of that came sprinkled with some of Astrid’s biggest fears on top.

n/a: i want to say I’m not really happy with this one, but I had to finish it and well, it wasn’t that bad...I think? I want to also say a big thanks to @grilledcheeseandguavajelly​ because she gave me the idea for the end, even when I twisted a bit to fit better in their dynamics.

Bobbi couldn’t help but muffle her chuckle against her fist, giving a quick glance to Astrid in the seat besides her, before making a right.

How many months since they knew each other and she still found herself mesmerized by the other woman that much? The way Astrid showed her nervousness was cute, not gonna lie there, but was getting a bit out of hand as the short trip was coming to an end. Bobbi didn’t know why she was fretting that much, but also kinda had the feeling it would be much worse if they hadn’t Ka-zar with them.

That was a smart move for sure, Morse, good job.

“They’re going to love your pasta salad and the cake,” Bobbi found herself saying, once again, without taking her eyes off the road. “Why are you worrying so much over meeting them? They’re gonna love you too.”

“None ever wanted me to meet their friends,” Astrid scratched Ka-zar’s head to keep herself busy. “Usually when I dated someone, I already knew their friends because they were mutuals as well,” Bobbi glanced again at her, catching the quick hurt expression upon saying that. “So yeah, I think this is the first time for me and you said they are also your coworkers, so…”

“Stop worrying,” Bobbi managed to not let out an exasperated sigh, stopping on a red light, and she leant enough to kiss Astrid, which automatically turned her face to catch the kiss - that was something Bobbi liked about her, she was always ready. “They’re cool, none will ask you weird stuff and you’ll eat to your heart content, but I can’t promise they’ll try to make you drink beer or worse.”

Astrid nodded, seemingly satisfied with that, and gave Bobbi a shy smile back. She was already used to those little smiles, ones that always made her know everything was okay in spite of whatever was going on, and that one affected her the same as all the others: making her chest feel tight, warm and full of unspoken words of love. Who would tell her eight months ago she would find someone that made her feel like Astrid did? It was completely nuts, taking in count how was her last relationship she was trying to take baby steps to not burn themselves like that.

As she was pulling over, Bobbi thought that maybe that’s why she was going slowly but surely with Astrid. Hunter and her were too much alike in the same places, the constant crashing inevitable, but Astrid was different in that sense even when Bobbi recognized some traits in her similar to her own. With Astrid everything was...easy, she loved that for once love was like that, but she still kept herself alert for when it started to get difficult.

But, as slow as she wanted to go, it wasn’t right still not asking Astrid the big question...taking in count they’ve been living together for over three months already.

“Bobbi?” How did Astrid got to her windo-oh yeah, she pulled over at Mack’s house already. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, don’t worry,” she smiled at her girl, unbuckling herself and getting out of the car too, taking from Astrid’s hands the salad and the cake so she could put Ka-zar his leash, licking her hand in the process. “Are you okay?”

“I think so,” Astrid played with the end of the leash in her hands, looking towards the front door. “Were you serious when you said they’ll like me?”

“Of course I was, why wouldn’t they anyway?” Bobbi leant again, this time kissing Astrid’s bare shoulder thanks to the dress she was wearing, and then kissed her cheek and give her a peck on the lips. “You’re really nice, sweet, know a lot about...everything and nothing, which still amazes me; and brought your best dishes, so I only see a win-win situation,” sometimes Bobbi wondered if Astrid’s need of reassurance came from her childhood or her teen days, because it was so engraved in her that it was painful. “That you are the only non-agent here it’s not important, babe.”

“Okay, okay,” Astrid closed her eyes for a second, Bobbi used already to her doing that to calm herself, and then there she went with the soft smile gracing her lips and marking as softly her left dimple. “Are you ready, Ka-zar?”

She couldn’t help but laugh loudly because of how easily Astrid could turn things to the rest, even their dog. Ka-zar barked as loud as Bobbi was laughing, that little perk they learnt soon about him, and sent Astrid into a tiny fit of laughter as well. Yeah, everything was okay for the time being. When did she become such a sap? Bobbi asked herself that while walking towards Mack, who apparently had heard them outside and go check before they got to ring the bell.

The look Mack had when he saw for the very first time Astrid was something Bobbi wouldn’t ever forget. She kept Astrid as hers in that sense for as long as they were together, obviously mentioning her and such, but seeing in the eyes of her friend such surprise was both fun and sweet for a change. Bobbi still remembered his look when she said Hunter and her were going to marry; when way before that she mentioned him that Sharon and her were having a thing; and also when Clint first introduce them, her as his girlfriend at the time and him as agent Mackenzie. 

Those looks were ones of ‘are you out of your mind?’.

She wasn’t going to forget either how Izzy looked first at Astrid and then give her a quick glance after her sweet girl greet her with a nervous handshake. It was a look that said everything and at the same time gave her this empty sensation that she wasn’t approving it much but that she will try to play nice. But Isabelle Hartley was like that, so what could she do? Sharon was always all smiles, hard brown eyes judging a bit, but when she commented how Bobbi was getting taller people to date her and Astrid laughed at it, she fell in her special charm.

Natasha and Clint were another story, however, both being polite but still curious about her choice of partner this time. Bobbi didn’t need them to say something, she knew by the way they shared a knowing look and then looked directly at her when Astrid went to see what was Ka-zar doing, since he was barking again as if his bark was supersonic. 

“I bought that fancy white wine only for you,” Mack brought her back to Earth, because as the presentations were going she moved to help him in the kitchen, and she hugged him sideways after placing the things they brought over the counter. “Would you want some too, Astrid? Or maybe beer?”

Bobbi saw Astrid’s cheeks flushed a bit and she couldn’t help but bit her own lip. They locked eyes while Astrid walked towards the kitchen and when she replied, it was in the shiest voice Bobbi ever heard coming from her.

“If you have soda or something like that, I rather have it, please,” Mack blinked a bit and nodded, turning around to get whatever he had in the fridge, but Bobbi didn’t think he managed to hear what Astrid said next, her voice merely audible. “As much as I’m getting off my medication, I’m still taking it and I don’t want to mess stuff up.”

She was glad Astrid’s back was facing the living room, because Clint gave her a weird look so when Bobbi put an arm over Astrid’s shoulders, she took advantage to flip him off as hard as she could...giving Astrid a little peck on the lips when she smiled up at her.

…

Astrid felt her head buzzing after hours of socializing, not used to do much talk with more than two people. But her stomach was happy, so her heart was happy, and she got to hear Bobbi’s laugh a lot which made her heart happy as well.

Bobbi’s friends had been nice with her for most of the day, welcoming even, and she felt a bit nostalgic of that sense of having some sort of group around her. Too much time without being in one, she supposed, still she needed a break and that’s why she found herself in the backyard after it got dark.

The swing seat was a good place to rest because she could still see the living room through the open large window, hearing their muffled voices while they were playing some videogame. Astrid closed her eyes for a moment, trying to isolate those sounds to feel the quietness of the night, her mind pulsating softly at her temples like a never ending tentation for using them. Since she was withdrawing more and more from the medication, her powers started to feel too more and more overwhelming as her mental training grew. She already did this when she was younger, but she didn’t remember being so hard find balance. 

There were days in which she could hear Bobbi’s thoughts like loud static, mostly because her efforts to not get in her head distorted everything until it was an annoying buzz, and there were days, like today, in which she was able to feel as if she didn’t have to try that at all because the world was in silence for her.

Tricky, right?

That’s why she never really made peace with her mutation. Her telekinesis wasn’t the problem to begin with, that one was always the ‘easiest’ to control but it took a great part of the energy in her. Energy that she needed to keep at bay her telepathy, so it was another never ending battle inside he-

“Hey.”

When Astrid opened her eyes, her train of thoughts interrupted, the view that welcomed her was one she grew fond of as the days and months passed. Bobbi was smiling at her, more a soft smirk than a smile, and this time she had her glass of Chardonnay - Astrid didn’t expect her liking such thing, since they met Astrid always thought she was more of a beer girl - in one hand and a plate with cake on it. Cookie and cream cake, it was the only cake Astrid knew to do but taking in count such simple thing seemed to be the best for Bobbi and her friends...well, she thought she didn’t need to know more.

“Hey yourself,” she replied back, not too loud but not a whisper either, Astrid didn’t want to completely break the peace that she managed to get. “Weren’t you enjoying beating Clint’s ass at the videogame?”

“I always enjoy beating Clint’s ass at everything, that’s for sure,” Bobbi chuckled, taking that as her cue to get closer and sit by Astrid’s side when she scooted over enough. “But I wanted to enjoy the last piece of cake with you, getting some fresh air,” Astrid took the plate from Bobbi’s hand to put it on her lap, letting Bobbi scoot closer and put an arm over the back of the swing seat, right behind Astrid’s shoulders. “I don’t know, have a little time for ourselves in general.”

“I thought our time was breakfast,” Astrid giggled, gaining a tiny pout from Bobbi. “You’re too sweet with me...but I’m glad you came out here with cake, I was getting a bit hungry.”

“Oh wow, now you’re using me as a waitress?” the giggle became a laugh, muffled behind Astrid’s hand and Bobbi used her free hand to tap at her wrist. “Don’t hide your laugh, you know I like it sweetcheeks.”

Astrid felt her cheeks getting warm with the gesture, making her smile a bit shyly before pressing a kiss to Bobbi’s chin before taking a spoonful of cake. Maybe it was too sweet today, but it was still good.

“I’ve been thinking about something today,” Astrid hummed to let her lover know she was being listened, feeding Bobbi some cake at the same time. She waited for her to swallow and lick a bit of cream from her upper lip. “When I first met you, you said what you needed was a time machine, so where would you go if you had one?”

Both remembered how it went they met. Bobbi looking so lost and cold that Astrid had tried to help her as sweet as she could, before Bobbi snapped at her with a bit of ‘really, what do you need that you’re looking at me so much’. Astrid didn’t back at that, rolling her eyes and snapping at her as well...and then everything rolled smoothly once Bobbi was warm and ashamed of how she behaved.

Astrid didn’t think Bobbi would actually keep on chewing such response in the back of her mind, bringing it up after so long.

However she actually found herself thinking about the question, humming again while eating more cake. There were many options in her mind, but one of them stood up as proud as the person that was involved with it. Astrid felt her body sore and her heart hurt, like a ghost pain stabbing her once again, but she was too used to it that she didn’t mind. 

Maybe it was a good time to tell Bobbi about it, right?

“Seven years ago,” Bobbi’s fingers played with a loose strand of Astrid’s hair, tucking it behind her ear before she put her hand at her nape, caressing there with her thumb as she grew fond of for some reason. “I think if I had been more clear, more straightforward, even more capable...my brother would be still here with me.”

“You didn’t tell me you had a brother,” Bobbi muttered, leaning in to kiss Astrid’s temple. “It was a dumb question, you don’t have to answer As-”

“No, no, it’s okay Bobbi,” Astrid turned a bit to cup Bobbi’s cheek, smiling at her reassuringly. “I actually wanted to tell you about it, you just helped me to step forward to do it,” she chuckled a bit and then took more cake before keep on talking. “Isaiah always said I needed someone to push me into things, he would had been very surprised knowing I decided to do all of this on my own volition.” 

“All of this?”

“Yeah, all of this as in escaping the only safe place for us and then following my guts instead of my head for the last seven years.”

When Astrid said that, Bobbi could see the same pained expression she had in the car hours ago. But there was something more all over her face, like a thin mask of pride...as if she was proud of following her instinct more than whatever her head was telling her. Leaving her glass of wine in the floor along the plate, Bobbi only accommodated her arm over Astrid’s shoulders while her other hand took hers, playing with her fingers slowly so that way she knew she was there for her. And, of course, that everything would go as fast or as slow as she wanted and that Bobbi wasn’t going to rush her into anything.

“What happened then?” Bobbi might be tipsy, but she still held some kind of self-control over both her curiosity and her worry. 

“We got into a fight,” since the day Astrid told Bobbi about her, she always wanted to know more of the Astrid before she came like a hurricane into her life, but it was hard to form the questions without feeling she was being too intrusive. “We fought over the silliest things, but a five year gap is enough to take things in perspective, Isaiah and I always found middle ground quickly...but that day we didn’t. He thought I was being childish with what I wanted to do with my life, taking in count...well, this,” when Astrid touched her head with her fingers lightly and then moved them a bit, Bobbi knew that she was talking about her powers. “That I should stop from crying over how hard things were, that I should be out there instead of him,” Bobbi could see how she was getting lost in her memories by the way she was looking at the sky. “He even told me that I was ashaming him, being the way I was.”

Bobbi couldn’t help but put her arms around Astrid better, by instinct, drawing her closer so she could hide in the crook of her neck if she wanted. She couldn’t recall if her own brother ever told her something like that or if he did, she just probably brushed it off; however that Astrid seemed to held that memory so vividly could meant he was really meaning it...or something else.

Her reading skills weren’t of much help with Astrid.

“I was so mad at him, I felt it running through my veins like fire...and then he was crossing the room because I threw him with my powers,” Astrid chuckled darkly but Bobbi felt how she was shivering at this point. “Then all the anger was gone and him too before I could even say sorry…” she sighed deeply and moved so she was sitting again. “The next time I knew about him was the next day, when they notified me that he had an accident while working and he disappeared. They never found his body, but by the way his comrades explained it to me...well he was pretty much dead, falling from a cliff.”

“And what would you had changed there, sweetcheeks? I’m pretty sure it wasn’t your fault.” it was true that there were many things that felt off in the story, but Bobbi couldn’t put her finger in what Astrid could do if she was able to go back then.

“It’s not what would have changed...but more like I would have followed him, told him I was going to join him out there that day,” Astrid tightened her fists the hardest Bobbi had seen her do. “And maybe saved his life like when we were kids.”

…

“She loves her.”

“Hmm?”

Izzy took a deep breath without moving much from her position in the kitchen’s window. She could perfectly see from there the swing seat, where Bobbi and her new girl were. Clint, Natasha and Sharon were completely hammered by that time, so only her and Mack were up to get the house cleaned up a bit.

She had stopped there to spy on Bobbi, just a bit, because she still wasn’t really sure of this new girl she brought over. Mack seemed to like her though, Izzy had to give it to her that she was polite and sweet, but she had something else that she couldn’t put her finger on.

It was a feeling in her gut, and she was sure it wasn’t because what Hunter would say upon learning about this.

“Barbara,” Mack winced at hearing Bobbi’s full name, because only Isabelle could use it without having her head chopped off. “She loves that girl...or at least she’s falling for her really hard.”

“Why do you say that?”

She moved her fingers, indicating Mack to get closer so he could see it himself. From where they were watching, they could see how Bobbi had her hands cupping Astrid’s face, placing too many tiny kisses all over it while Astrid’s hands where settled one in Bobbi’s thigh and the other pressing her knuckles against her abdomen. Then there was a swift move and they were kissing...but Mack didn’t feel the mighty need to look away like when Bobbi and Hunter used to kiss in front of him. The kiss didn’t last long and then Bobbi kissed Astrid’s nose lightly, her laugh muffled by the distance and the window, and they could see how Astrid was telling her something that made Bobbi lean forward. They couldn’t even try to read Astrid’s lips because Bobbi protected her using her hair as a natural curtain, all of that while Astrid seemed to whisper something in her ear.

“Did you ever see her blush like that?”

And Mack could still hear Bobbi’s laugh, but her neck and chest were all flushed, while she tried to hide her embarrassment by being the classic joyful Bobbi. That and how they started to give each other tiny pecks, more needy as the seconds passed by, and then they were leaving the swing seat with their dog - God, they even had a dog together! - following them tiredly. 

“You’re right,” Mack muttered, trying to not get caught spying, while Izzy only moved to put the clean dishes away. “Oh damn, you’re right.”

It didn’t take much for the couple to enter the house again, offering to help cleaning what was left in the living room, but once Mack told them to not worry, that he was going to get the other three drunkasses, Bobbi’s smile was widder.

Mack had never seen her smile that wide before, that full of excitement.

Happiness even.

“Then I’ll take milady home,” Bobbi looked at how Astrid took Ka-zar in her arms, giving his sleeping dog a tiny kiss in his head, and her blue eyes shone brighter and not because she was drunk - Mack was pretty sure she wasn’t at this point of the night. “Don’t let the kids choke on their vomit.”

“Barbara, don’t say that!”

Isabelle and Mack had to double check by blinking fast, because Bobbi chuckled in response, kissing her temple and saying ‘sorry, sorry, let’s go’ and then waving them goodbye without an ounce of anger in her. Astrid smiled at them, being a bit more polite than the blonde, and actually shaking their hands before leaving.

Oh yeah, Bobbi was falling so fucking hard for Astrid.

…

Bobbi’s low groan kept Astrid focused, feeling the soft vibration of it in her neck where her lover was marking her. 

She knew how to get that reaction out of the blonde, she only had to pull lightly at her hair, strands perfectly fitting in between her fingers, and Bobbi got at it more eager. Fingers going a bit deeper, curling inside of her and drawing moans and words mixed because she wasn’t able to do more aside of trying to keep at bay the buzzing of her brain.

It was her power, trying to push out of its jail because she was starting to let go. Always happening when she was feeling too much, never failing, and today being with Bobbi was proving to be quite different. 

Since they had arrived home, everything moved in a beat that neither of them was quite used to. Yeah, they both had felt like that a few times, but tonight it was more intense and when Bobbi had kissed her slow and sweet, pulling her close and then…

God, I love you.

Astrid opened her eyes - when did she close them? - and the first thing she encountered was the bed headboard, then she looked down and Bobbi’s blonde hair seemed to...glow? But Bobbi didn’t seem to have noticed, still pretty much busy with getting her to climax. With each second that passed, Astrid felt herself closer and her mind more clear, the buzzing toning and slowing down at the same time.

“Bee, I’m-”

No, let me, a bit more, there, c’mon.

Astrid wasn’t used to hear Bobbi’s thoughts and it sent her on overdrive, hot white fury dripping down her spine at that point, and not only words but images started to get in her head. She wasn’t in a position right now to stop it, cut the link that was forming between them without Bobbi knowing, and she felt her eyes get full of tears…

...and then the room trembled, as Astrid came all over Bobbi’s hand, and then it all went quiet to her ears.

But that didn’t mean the same for Bobbi.

She got startled by the way everything started to move, drawers getting out from its places, lamps falling to the ground, the window opening and the wardrobe batting its doors. All she could do was to hold Astrid closer to her and moved them fast, so that way she was over her lover in case something fell from the ceiling. Bobbi was pretty sure Astrid was still climbing down her climax, eyes shut tightly and hands clawing at Bobbi’s sides - oh, if she wasn’t spent from earlier, that would for sure put her on the game again -, so the only thing she did was to cover her better and press her lips to her temple. 

Her skin was hotter than she expected and...were those tears in Astrid’s eyes? When Astrid’s body seemed to relax and the room stopped from going all bananas, Bobbi pressed her lips again to Astrid’s feverish skin and then her lips, as sweet as she did when their night started.

“Are you okay?” she almost couldn’t feel herself saying that, her voice not wanting to come out for some reason, but she kissed the tiny tears that were rolling down Astrid’s cheeks. “I hope these are happy tears, because if not...well, we have a bit of a problem.”

Astrid shook her head before taking a deep breath, which ended up with her opening her eyes and Bobbi couldn’t help but get lost in those two eyes that were looking at her back.

Golden eyes, almost glowing in the dark, that were looking at her with fear and doubt.

"I love you too Bobbi..." Astrid whispered so tiny and defenceless that Bobbi's heart pressed against her ribcage painfully. "...and I'm sorry I read it before you could say it to me."

Oh.

Oh.

Bobbi's laughter echoed around the room while she was trying to hug Astrid in the same protecting position they were. Okay, she wanted to say that before the big question but now things were speeding up. She couldn't help but kiss her soon-to-be girlfriend all over her face, feel her relax more and more as she kept pampering her in love. 

Was she afraid of what could she say about that?

Bobbi was sure there was something more behind Astrid getting like that.

"Don't worry so much about it, okay?" this time Bobbi pressed her lips to Astrid's forehead, checking that way her temperature at the same time - already regular, her eyes settling slowly to her natural ochre. "It's not like I'm not gonna say it to you anymore, but I'm glad you couldn't get one thing more out of this coconut I have for brain, because this one it's once in a lifetime thing."

"You don't have coconut brain…" Bobbi melted upon hearing Astrid say that with such sweet voice. "But what is it…?"

Neither of them knew what would happen to them months later, a year, two or even thirteen; but right now in that moment, they indulged in the new love blooming between them like a force to be reckoned with.

"I was wondering if well...you would like to make things more, let's say, official," sleep was starting to get into Astrid, but she gave Bobbi a confused look. "As in…I wanted you to meet my friends because I want you to be my girlfriend so...what do you say?"

"Do you realize we have a dog together, we live together and I manage to get blood stains out of your shirts twice every few days?" Bobbi pouted and Astrid kissed it away in that natural way she had, before placing both hands in her cheeks. "How could I even say no?"

"God, I love you…" Bobbi said, kissing her fully on the lips.

"I know, I heard it...along some other remarks about my boobs."

"Only the truth, best tits I've ever seen," she couldn't help but make a cross with her index in her chest, above her heart, to seal that statement. "And also best rocking orgasm I've ever give, didn't expect you to unleash an earthquake on the room."

"Hmm, yeah…" Astrid hummed against Bobbi's lips and then her now not that golden eyes opened again, confused. "Wait, did I do what?"

Oh yeah, Bobbi didn't need to be a telepath to know in that moment that Astrid had no idea of what had happened around them.

And that's why she pulled her in her arms again, saying a soft 'I love you, let's get some sleep and tomorrow we will clean' to ease her girlfriend's anxiety over the reach of her powers when she was overwhelmed.

[kachinnate]

we’ve finally come time for the one (1) annual Kayla’s Having a Bad Time post 

i don’t know anymore what exactly is wrong with me but wow!! is it bad!!! and wow do i hate it !!!!! i have not gone a day w/o crying in like a week and a half and i’m so tired, i’m literally so tired of hating myself just for existing and i’m tired of all the little things that should not upset me upsetting me only because they’re in masse, only because all together it’s so much and i only have two fucking hands 

and like in the back of my mind even fucking still i’m like “.... okay but placebo effect. okay but you aren’t really sad tho. okay but you literally just don’t want to get better you are doing this for attention you are doing this bc being content would be easy and you just want to stir the pot clearly, just stop” to the point where i’m like I Guess I Have To Prove to even myself that i am fucking justified in feeling the way that i do before my brain gaslights itself into thinking that there was never anything wrong with me to begin with and that i’ve fucking put myself in this hole myself for no reason other than ... i don’t even know! i don’t know 

makes a list in my notes :) to remember all the heinous bullshit going on :) and maybe for catharsis reasons i don’t fucking care anymore 

- it’s the anniversary of the thing. you know. ;) the kind of traumatic experience of having the people i called best friends fucking uhhh pick on me every day for the entirety of like eight months - on my eating habits on my behavior on my anxiety on the things they knew i fucking hated about myself - only for them to just. drop me all of a sudden, on THEIR own terms, as if I was the one who fucking did anything to THEM, thus rendering me from never getting my own fucking closure from the situation ! i have both of them still added as friends on snapchat and i follow them on instagram because for some reason i know that if i just blocked them it would cause problems (what problems?? what arbitrary fucking problems???) seeing their faces makes me feel literal actual dread, i can’t go to one of the restaurants in my town alone because they work there and i hate it ! i hated every second of april 2019 - september 2019 where i felt fucking psychotic for being upset over this situation, where i couldn’t convince myself that i wasn’t insane for being strung up and i couldn’t even call it trauma until like march when someone coined it that for me themselves lol ,,,, i hate myself for still giving them my thoughts, i hate myself for wondering that in a different universe where i wasn’t as fucking stupid or ditzy if they’d still talk to me. i hate myself for wondering if ***** looks at the message i left on her poster last april where i told her how much i admired her and loved her and thinks about me, because that was probably the last time i ever said anything real to her, which... haha. what a JOKE right? 

- my rsd has somehow fucking spiked and gotten so much worse in like.. the last eight days. literally when i first posted ‘sweet hibiscus tea’ i went and checked it a few days after and it had like. two dislikes? and i like. cried? :) which is so dramatic and i hate it djksgndsg i can’t go a day reading messages or texts from anyone who talks to me without finding one that’s not inherently positive and picking it apart until i’ve hurt myself over something that wasn’t even related, im too sensitive about EVERYTHING but i don’t know how to address it or deal with it so i just don’t which i think is... why it’s getting worse oop. it gets triggered by literally fucking everything i hate it here 

- one of the only things bringing me any sort of serotonin rn is making content. hense the hyperfixating on my r and on this oneshot and on the writing meme things, like. it makes me feel productive, but hyperfixating for me oftentimes leads to a bad headspace which makes me fucking disoriented when i come out of it, and like. ofc there’s the typical things w it too like me forgetting to do other shit like eat or whatever but it’s literally been the only way i can cope with myself. making things. getting validation for things. if i can entertain someone for like, ten minutes, maybe anything i do matters. maybe. fuck. 

- i can’t not self isolate myself when things are bad, i just. can’t sdjgnsd like i hate talking about myself i hate talking about the way i feel because nothing makes sense?? i encourage people to talk to me when they feel bad but i can’t ever do the same for myself because i’m a hypocrite! and like the feelings of worthlessness overpower everything i do! convince me people don’t care and shit when i know that’s not the case, but if i acknowledge that then i have to think about how i’m being selfish by fucking moping but not talking to anyone, and i just! i cannot win !!! ever! 

- ^^^^ on that note, literally the few times i’ve felt okay recently i’ve had that ripped right from me by little things people close to me have done, like !! can you not vague me?? regardless of if you see that i’m doing bad mentally or not ???? i’m begging you , i’m so sorry that i’m not acting normal but can you for one second maybe consider that i’m a person ? i may be SAD but i’m not fucking STUPID so if i bother you just tell me ??? it’s the least you can do ??????

- scared i can’t love. scared i’m not morally a good person. scared that i’m selfish but don’t realize it. i wasn’t meant to have a confidant i don’t think and who am i to ever try and subject anyone to my fucked up head 

- i’m constantly fucking terrified on my dad’s behalf because this dude is 41 years old yet i’m the fucking adult out of the two of us most of the time? he comes home drunk so often and i’ve thought that he’s had alcohol poisoning more than once and i hate being fucking scared of having to like. contact fafsa or my college like “hey can u adjust my financial aid, because i’m kind of an orphan now? :’)” we don’t have any other family, i can’t ask anyone to help me it’s literally me and him against the world and he’s put me on this pedestal of being an amazing daughter so i feel guilty at the thought of anything happening to him as if i’m his fucking guardian. he drinks so much and he’s so infidelious and ridiculous so what’s going to happen when i leave ? 

it’s just. so much. but i don’t want to be a beacon of negative shit because even after all of this i’m self conscious of making other people sad so i pretend that everything’s fine on my sc and in person , which i know gives off the vibe of “but she’s not even acting sad? :///” when i offhandedly mention anywhere that i’ve been depressed and i just. i’m sorry that i don’t post about how when i’m not staring at my huion screen i’m fucking staring at the wall wondering if anyone would fucking notice other than my dad and my coworkers if i just disappeared without a word

it feels selfish to complain about my life feeling bad with all the shit going on, too, on top of that. so it’s better if i just don’t say anything at all, there’s other shit to deal with other than my life falling apart because really this just happens every year around this time doesn’t it. i’ll get over it. i’m being dramatic and stupid and in like two months none of this will even fucking matter 

tldr; i need to get my meds upped or something 

[queercode-my-minecraft]

The Sky | Stranded

The Sky (you’re here) | Chapter Two

Warnings: Remus, a vehicle crash, general Patton angst

Notes: Let's try doing this chaptered fic again. Last time it failed miserably, but, this time I hold a tiny bit more of hope (and maybe a little spite towards the person that told me that I didn't get any reads because I didn't post regularly) Just re-read this chapter, which I was actually quite proud of- I don't like it. Which is tremendous because this was inspired by a post by @pawtonsanders  and it deserves to be amazing

Summary: There are different reasons for one should feel stranded. Some find themselves on a foreign planet, with seemingly no way to return home. The night sky which once they easily roamed, now a stranger. While others, that should feel at home, feel utterably miserable. Unsure of the path they're walking and without anyone to hold in their heart.

Later Patton would say it had been fate that had him get out of home in the middle of the night and walk outside of the town. It's also fair to say that, in the future, Patton would hold knowledge he didn’t ever dream of having. His eyes open to so much more.

However, the Patton who was currently living his  present didn’t know. He believed himself to be alone and was in desperate need of some fresh air, because if his mind was clouded by troubling thoughts like rumbling storms he just needed some fresh air to make them disperse.

The cool air was biting his cheeks and his nose, making Patton hide his face deeper in the yellow knitted scarf he was wearing. He walked in the forest that surrounded the town, a dark, dense patch of trees that made it impossible to cross and impossible for the secrets of the town to spread like oil. And, of secrets, Starry Night town, was plenty.

Twigs and leaves crunched under his feet, as he strolled deeper into the woods. It was isolating to live at Starry Night, that Patton could tell you, despite all those others secrets he had to keep quiet about.

Although, now, as he walked, surrounded by the darkness of the night and the stars on top of his head shining through the leaves, he didn’t feel so alone.

The loneliness that would sneak on him and snuggle close to his heart, as if it alimented itself from Patton’s suffering, seemed to dissipate from the cold air and the sound of wind through the leaves. Not even when he was surrounded by people, his coworkers sure, but, they were still people, did the aching feeling disappear.

The wind blew, making the curls of his hair wildly tumble around his face, and everything, even for just a moment, seemed calm, at peace. Perfect and content as it was destined to be.

But, just as that thought crossed his heart, a bright, burning light fell from the sky. Searing the darkness and changing Patton’s destiny.

The light collided against the earth, making the ground shake and the trees sway at the violent force that washed over them. Patton crumbled to the underwood covered floor.

As soon as the ground had stopped, Patton shot back to his feet.

With his heart already thrumming against his ribcage and his breathing quickening exponentially, his feet moved against the ground, towards the source of what had just happened.

It wasn’t hard to find it.

Soon, Patton found himself staring down at some sort of smoking spacecraft, looking as if it had just come out of Star Trek.

The first thing he noticed was how bad the spacecraft had survived the landing, making it clear that it hadn’t been designed for crash landings. Therefore, it could have been some sort of emergency, if it meant such risk.

With a slight frown Patton proceeded down the slope, reaching the spacecraft without tripping. As he got closer, he truly understood the spacecraft had been reduced.

On its sides it sported numerous burns, all of which had blacked the outside, and, what Patton presumed being the entrance, had been violently blown off. Resting a couple of meters away from the rest of the vehicle.

Holding his breath, Patton willed himself inside the alien craft, not quite believing his eyes.

The moment he stepped inside he was overwhelmed by flashing lights, the overbearing warmth of the dark place, making his clothes hang heavily on his frame, and the incessant loud noises that blared, seemingly afraid of being on an alien planet, stranded. It was unbearable.

However, before a headache appeared or Patton returned outside and pretended that he had never seen this ship, his focus was caught by a figure, unconscious in the pilot seat.

Tentatively, Patton stepped towards them, observing quietly the figure with curious eyes.

The first thing he noticed was how human they looked.

Their hair, medium length and brown, were held in a loose ponytail, their eyes were closed and a gush of dark blood was flowing down their face.

They looked mostly human.

Keyword mostly.

There was something, maybe it was the slightly more pointed ears that bore incredibly unique jewellery or maybe it was how their fingernails looked more like claws, that was inhuman, alien.

Different, but alluring and gorgeous.

Throwing a few glances at his surroundings, Patton sighed softly. Who knew what could happen to them if he left them here, stranded and unconscious.

Carefully he picked them up and, doing so, he noticed how they were clutching in a wounded hand a small object. He didn’t give it much thought at the moment, quickly proceeding to walking out of the vehicle, the unconscious alien in their arms.

A wave of cold air hit the two of them, that after being stuck in the stuffy and overheated place it was relief for Patton. However, as he exhaled in relief, the alien shivered ever so slightly.

Taking one last glance at the spacecraft, Patton took off, alien securely in his arms.

____

“Hey, Rem?”

Roman’s quiet voice was the only sound in the spacecraft, except for the beeps and the flashing lights of the button that resonated between the walls.

Quickly glancing at his twin, he caught the unsettling smile that was always etched on Remus’ face. Returning to look at the screen, Roman had to repress a shudder of discomfort.

They may have grown together, but certain things Roman will never stop finding them incredibly creepy and unsettling.

“Yeeeees, dear brother?”

“Why… why did you accept the job offer to work on the Curiosity? You disappeared for five years after getting kicked out of school and then you reappear on the same ship I work on and as a healer? It doesn’t sound particularly in your field work, from what I remember you being. Quite boring, actually.”

As he spoke Roman should have turned, to catch the glint in Remus’ eyes. As he expertly manuvred the tiny spacecraft, he should have expected for Remus to react at his words.

Alas, he didn’t.

And, as he calmly fiddled with the controls he catched Remus whisper:

“Oh, it can be fun, my dear and sweet brother.”

Before everything began to spiral down, and down into an endless pit of darkness and confusion, Roman heard laughing. Mad and wild and terrifying.

And, then, in a blink of an eye, everything disappeared.

[iamalivenow]

Jon watches Daisy and Melanie haul the nice couch from the nice break room all the way to the elevator and he also watches the rest of the people who work in this building try to restrain themselves from yelling at the weirdos from the Archives. “Are you coming or not?” Melanie sounds bored which means she's already done with this entire idea. Jon gets into the elevator. It's a tight fit and the lights are dim and Daisy stands too close to possibly be comfortable but he doesn't mind. He's gotten used to her shadowing him like this. Feels safer for it even. Hauling the couch out takes even more time then hauling it in did, and then dragging it into the spare office is a trial with how small the door is. “Right, I'm done. Have fun with your awful idea.” Melanie dusts her hands on her jeans and stares at the two of them. “I'll tell Helen you're being stupid again.” “I'm sure she'll be thrilled.” Melanie snorts and leaves just as Basira arrives with a plastic bag filled with loose disks. “I think this is an awful idea.” Is the first thing she says. “Do you know they're keeping my key card until I bring those back?” Is the second.

“Sure is a good thing you don't have to go anywhere.” Daisy pats the spot next to her on the couch and stares at the projector Jon hooked up to his laptop. “Are we doing this or what?” This, being a marathon of the Lagorio director cuts. Because they're out of ideas and Annabelle- probably Annabelle- has started infesting the institute just as badly as Prentiss did. They're on every inch of the walls outside, and slipping in through the windows so much easier. There aren't any in the tunnels yet, and not that many managed to sneak into the basement, but- Everyone else will crush them for him, and he doesn't have to touch them, and he doesn't mind. He fiddles with the disk drive, a temperamental thing he borrowed from Georgie ages ago and when he finally remembered to return it she had gotten a new one and let him keep it for five quid. He grabs a loose disk from the bag, huffing warm air on it and cleaning it on his shirt before putting it in and sitting to Daisy's right. It's Dead Sky, the credits tell them. Jon hates it instantly.

Dead Sky Real snore fest. Couldn't even begin to be scared. All of the gore would look great if you could see any of it. Ever heard of lighting balance? And you can totally see the suspension harnesses. Stop wasting so much money on practical effects if you can't even afford a green screen. 2 Stars. Hey, want to hear a joke? Why can't spiders become pilots? Because they only know how to tailspin.  – LonelyEyes

The phantom touch of vertigo only leaves him when the credits roll, the tightness in his chest finally abating when he turns his head to see how his two tagalongs are doing. “You're breathing kind of hard there, you alright?” Jon nods, rubbing his face awake. “Not going to be weird, right?” “I don't know. Where's Basira?” “She said she was going to steal popcorn from the upstairs break room.” Daisy looks bored. Really not a movie person then. Or just not a good movie. She stretches, one arm vaguely behind Jon's head before she settles comfortably. “I thought it was going to be worse, honestly. Wasn't this one of his fucked up one?” “It was-” He pats his chest as if that's supposed to translate what he means but Daisy takes a slow nod anyway. “Maybe it didn't grab me because I killed one of them.” “Maybe.” Basira comes back with popcorn while Jon tries to figure out the next disk to put in.

Beyond Time God, could you make something more reductive if you tried? Honestly, the second anyone thinks they can do time travel right is a joke. Black holes don't work like that, obviously. At least someone learned how to light a scene correctly, but man the make up? Come on people. Cult classic? Hey, since you people like jokes so much, got another one for you. What does a spider do when he gets angry? He goes up the wall! 2.5 Stars –LonelyEyes

Jon breathes a sigh of relief when its over. This one really wasn't as bad- at least not to him. Daisy holds Basira's hand and whispers something Jon chooses not to hear. While he fumbles with the next disk, Daisy passes him the bowl of popcorn to hold while she takes both of Basira's hands. “Are you alright?” Daisy nudges his foot with hers, which means shut up, which he does, staring back at the wall. “I'm fine, Jon. Put the next one on.” Daisy's hands don't move from Basira's. He wipes the disk twice, just to make sure none of the sugar got on it and caused the film to look even worse.

The Crawling Ones This one almost won me over. Almost. The romance was so by the numbers though, and it took up way to much of the runtime. My coworker doesn't think the romance between the monster roaches and the lead actor was even obvious, so really, what else can be said. Ugh. 1.6 stars. Oh, I got a joke for you, ready? Did you hear about the spider love triangle? It was a tangled web. – LonelyEyes

Basira excuses herself to vomit, which Jon thinks is fair, and if he never sees another bug of any kind it will be to soon. “You look green Jon.” “Yes well. Bit over insects.” He says. Daisy nods, somewhat lazy in her understanding but she takes Jon's hand and rolls his sleeve up to stare at the worm scars. He tries his best not to feel examined, tries his best not to squirm before she slowly rolls his sleeve back down, doing the buttons he didn't bother with earlier. Her nails clack against them and it's oddly loud in the otherwise quiet room. “If you get really scared you can hold my hand.” It doesn't sound placating, which is nice. They try not to sound placating around each other. “Is Basira okay?” He asks because the thought of holding hands makes his palms sweat almost instantly. “She- She's fine. She'll be fine. She's strong.” “Right.” You are too, he wants to say, but the door to the office opens and Basira sits down on the couch and stares straight ahead. Okay, not going to talk about it then, that's fine.

Jewel of the Amazon Eh. Can't muster more then Eh. Not a good sign, traditionally. Eh. 0 Stars. Here's something though, What does a spider do when he gets angry? He goes up the wall! – LonelyEyes

The scar Melanie gave him aches miserably. “Jon?” He lets go of Daisy's hand, practically drops it like its hot coal. She shakes it out, like he gripped too hard, and he must have. He tries to move to the right, give Daisy some space before she tugs him back, closer then before. “Holding up?” He chances a glance at Basira- who's managed to fall asleep half way through it. “Leg hurts.” It's all situational, he supposed. And these films are three to four hours long. He has no idea how anyone would ever want to watch this. How this man sold any of this garbage. “Poor you. Here.” She pats her shoulder and Jon stares at her. “I'm not going to snap your head off, come on.”

Agents of Orion Definitely the only good movie this hack ever made, I can really feel the horror. My coworker thinks its a little on the nose, but there's nothing wrong with that sometimes. If it's tasteful. But then you can't go wrong with the isolation of space! Who wouldn't think that was scary! The maze section was absolute garbage though. Amateur writing 101 much? 4 stars. What do you call an under cover spider? A spy-der ! - LonelyEyes

He does end up with his face in her neck. It's embarrassing now, while she holds the back of his neck like he's a infant, but during the film he appreciated it. He really appreciated it. Her nails dig into the skin and it's nice, it's grounding, and even if it hurts it's the kind of pain he's used to, somehow. For half a second he thinks she's going to start rocking him back and forth but she lets him go as Basira gets up from the couch. “I'm going to bed.” Jon pulls away, blinks until he can see straight and looks at the time. They really did waste all day doing this. “Pick this up again tomorrow?” “Yes- Yes.” He says. His face feels warm. Well, he was just cradled by her girlfriend. He supposed it made sense that at least one of them was embarrassed about it. “Tomorrow morning.” “Sounds good. Daisy?” “I'm going to make sure he's okay. I”ll find you in a few.” Basira just shrugs and heads towards the tunnels. “I'm fine.” He insists. “Well, yeah. It's not like you could have nightmares about this.” “Oh- yes.” He laughs. “Sorry for then uh-” “I told you it was fine.” “Just-” Jon swallows. “Thank you- for-” “I got it.” “Alright.” “Good night Jon.”

Forty Winks Abysmal in every way, -5 stars, couldn't stand it.  I got another joke, though, ready? What do you get when you cross spiders and corn? Cobwebs. - LonelyEyes

Helen and Melanie join them in the morning, just for the sake of solidarity, they tell him. It's relatively tame- well- the gore is everywhere and the animatronics move like they're alive- but Jon's gotten over his Spiral fear ages ago, especially with Helen sitting next to him. The only real horrific part of that viewing experience was Melanie in Helen's lap, both of them apparently trying to swallow each others tongues the entire time. He honestly wasn't even aware Helen had a tongue until he watched it lick Melanie's lips for five minutes straight. Basira's asleep again too, rough night apparently, head in Daisy's lap. And he's between them alone, fumbling with the cheap disk drive.

Nightmare Children This one is....almost good. The monsters feel cheap though. The people I watched this one with were to distracted having sex to actually react to the movie, so it's at least that bad. 2.5 stars. Maybe my joke could distract them from each other? I felt so guilty after I stepped on a spider this morning. You should of seen him, he looked genuinely crushed. – LonelyEyes

Jon has to hold Daisy's hand again. The way the dolls move is- is just too close to- Helen and Melanie unceremoniously excused themselves half way through, clearly more entertained with each other then with a cheap evil doll movie. Basira left too, also half way through. She had an appointment she forgot about, apparently. “How many more of this do we have left?” “Just three, I think.” Daisy reaches over and picks up the three disks, holding them out for him like a fan of cards. “Homestretch.” Jon smiles and picks the middle one, cleaning the finger prints off on his shirt. “This entire thing feels kind of- I don't know. A waste of time?” Daisy shrugs. “Maybe after this you could show me a good movie.” Jon puts in the disk and tries not to swell on far reaching implications.

Toy Shop Another trite romance, can this guy do anything else? And this is the second evil doll movie? He should try and work with mannequins. Those could actually scare people. 1.5 stars. My coworker wanted to write a joke but I don't really get it. He's a good kid though. What part of a computer does a spider use? The webcam. – LonelyEyes

They both get up and walk around, mostly out of boredom. The last one really was- Bad. He can say bad. Boring, even. Daisy stares at him while he smokes. “Just two more.” He says. It's really become a slog. But then the more something goes on for the more it's a given that it'll turn dull and derivative. “I don't know if I should hope for a exciting ending or not. Either it's a good film, which means it's scary or its another eight hours of wasting time.” “This was your idea.” “Isn't it time people stop letting me have those?” Daisy laughs.

Under New York Tight spaces? That's it? A few collapsed tunnels, a few abandoned subways? A lake? I was ready to get upset about how this movie was treating its monster (mole people by the way, like it's the fifties) but then you realize it's trying to be clever with a “man was always the real monster” and oh, just throw the entire production away. Couldn't think of something more dull if I tried. -2 stars. What do you call two young married spiders? Newly webs!  Well. They can't all be great. – LonelyEyes

When they try and stop the movie, the laptop freezes and keeps going. The door is, at this point in their lives, unsurprisingly locked. They can't even get the sound off. Watching Daisy have an attack is nightmarish. She doesn't get violent- he doesn't know why he thought he would, but she goes completely still, and he could see the tension in ever single muscle. Her eyes go dull, she looks anywhere but the wall it's projected on. “Daisy- Daisy listen to me-” He has to yell over the volume. “Daisy you're not there!” He tries to push her off of the couch but she's a solid rock of muscle that Jon couldn't really push around regularly. So of course, he does the one thing that comes to mind which he is sure is nothing short of an unspeakably good idea, and punches Daisy in the face. She's not frozen anymore, good, but she's staring at Jon like he's a meal, bad. He does try to at least get to the other side of the couch before Daisy lunges after him. They're both on the ground, and in Jon's desperate attempt to get away the project gets turned over and displays some poor man crawling through a tunnel on the ceiling. She grabs his hair and pulls and the pain shoots right down his spine, almost blinding. It barely compares to when she slams his head down on the floor. His nose bleeds onto their clothes, and just as shes about to do it again, he kicks out and yells her name. Any realization, any kind of flash of reality before she bashes his skull it would be great really. “Make it stop!” It's a howl more then a yell, loud and dangerous. “Make the crushing stop!” “I'm-” Trying, is what he was going to say, before Daisy decks him across the face, and more of that searing hot pain makes him feel like his face is on fire. He kicks at the her- at the desk- at anything he can before she swings again, harder, connects with his jaw. It's hard enough that it splits her knuckles open. Somewhere between the kicking and the begging and the collective screaming, the laptop falls off of the desk behind the couch, and the projector displays it's bright blue no input found screen and Jon lets himself fall back on the cool floor. “Fuck.” Her hair is a mess around her face, blood on her cheeks, probably his, breathing hard. “Jon-” He can practically see the way she comes back to herself- her pupils dilate for a moment before she settles- getting off of him. “Jon-” Like she hasn't even noticed. “I'm fine.” He's not- they can both tell instantly when the words come out with a wheeze. He can't feel any inch of his face. “Just need some ice. That's all.” “I'm-” “I'm okay. Really. This will fix itself in an hour at most.” She doesn't say anything after that, but heads upstairs – door's unlocked, who would have thought – and comes back with an ice pack. “Let me look.” Before he has a chance to argue she's holding his face, twisting it every way. “I'll be fine, Daisy.” He insists, even if it hurts to move his jaw right now. “Your hands.” She seems almost surprised to find blood there. “Well.” She sits him up and presses the icepack to his chin. “You weren't lying about getting stronger.” Jon laughs or tries to. Still hurts to much to actually commit. “One more movie?” “This sounds like an exceptionally bad idea.” “Can't be worse then the last one.”  

Widow's Weave Trite, really, but even a cold hard critic like me has to admit. The spider looked great. 4.0 stars. Why are spiders like tops? They are always spinning! – LonelyEyes

He feels his face knit itself back together just as he realizes what he's about to see on screen. Daisy holds his hand with her battered knuckles before Jon has to turn away. All he can see is Mr. Spider behind a random door, leering and waiting, curling his arms invitingly. “Don't you know good boys come when they're called?” Someone says in the movie, and Jon almost bolts out of the room. Well, he would have. If the door wasn't locked again. “Jon, come here.” He does, because he knows her voice- because he can trust her voice- He stops a few steps from the couch. Can he? She grabs his hand anyway and pulls him on top of her, face into the crook of her neck. “It's not real.” “That's never stopped it before.” He whispers. “Don't focus on it. Focus on me. On my voice. That's good for you right? Voices?” He doesn't know what's good for him. Until she tells him about Calvin. He's heard this before, of course, but that was Elias doing his- their trick- and now it's Daisy, by choice,  voice low in his ear and a hand on his back. He feels ready to run a marathon once she's done, filled with energy he hasn't had in a while. In a long while. But she doesn't let him go regardless, because the film keeps going and he can still hear the staccato accompaniment when ever the spider moves. So she tells him again, how she ripped Nikola's dolls apart, how she set a vampire on fire, how she met Basira, story after story after story that fed him more then anyone else ever has. He doesn't even notice the film ending. It's past midnight. “Are you alright?' He pulls away and she gives him a smile. She has a bruise where he punched her. “Aces.”

[stephhannes]

new year, who dis

what would be the use in becoming a symbol of walking desolation? awash in multiple griefs, elaborating on anguish. even if i never get to see you again, i’ll know that when we collided we both broke each other open. 

                                                   -mount eerie, love without possession 

i guess it’s been four months since i’ve sat down to write an actual blog. i figured i should at least try to get something out before the new year. 

i’ve tried to write an update a few times over the last couple of months, but every time i tried to write something, it’s just aggressively sad. like that one st. vincent lyric— i try to write you a love song, but it comes out a lament. and while an aggressively sad tone is appropriate to how i’ve been feeling, i’ve been trying to bring less sad energy to the table. (a surprise to everyone, because sad energy is my entire brand). 

I planned to get this blog up by january 1st. and then i kept putting it off. hence why this starts off saying things like, “i guess it’s been four months,” and “i figured i should at least try to get something out before the new year.” today is february 4th, which means it’s officially been a year and a half since nathan died. 

in the last few weeks, i’ve been under a lot of stress. i’m juggling three jobs right now, and somehow still don’t make enough money to survive. i’m sure that at this point, i’ve described to you my bona-fide money saving technique. it’s called “i only eat three days a week because it’s too expensive to feed myself every day,” sometimes, i get lucky, and get the scraps from events at work, and that’s literally like the one (1) thing i look forward to. 

i’m still out here searching for a salary (and health insurance) and hopefully, by my birthday, i’ll have that. but we’ll see, the job search has been uhhh…..abysmal to say the least. 

anyways, in the midst of being stressed, i’ve realized that i really don’t think about nathan all the time like i used to. sometimes i’ll go like two days before i’m reminded of him. the other day, i was like “am i a bad person because of this?” and like, logically, i know that it’s totally normal, but on the other hand, i can’t help but feel guilty because of it sometimes. i feel a sense of responsibility to exist as a reminder of “hey, this person existed, and they mattered,” and while i realize that’s a huge weight to put onto myself, i feel like if i don’t, then who will? 

last night, i was reading house of leaves (which, despite owning a copy since high school, i’ve actually never read it before) and i found nathan’s bookmark (a ticket from a baseball game he went to right after he moved to new york) in it, from when i let him take a few of my books when he moved to nyc. i got weirdly emotional and was like “wow what a fun coincidence to find this item of nathan’s that i’ve never seen before in my life on the 1.5 year anniversary of him dying.” i’m not saying i’m superstitious, but maybe i am a little stitious. 

+++

since the last time i wrote a blog, i’ve kept notes on my phone every time something happens that i feel holds some sort of importance- so here’s what’s been in my notes since august 4th. 

august 24, 2019. 4:17am

when i went into work on august 5th, a coworker of mine asked how i was doing. i was doing alright. the anniversary of nathan’s death really didn’t hit me too hard. i assumed i would have a huge nervous breakdown, and i didn’t. 

then my coworker, who’d also lost a partner, told me, “i hate to sound negative and be the one to tell you this but the second year is a lot harder than the first.”

that’s what i’d been reading online for months, but to hear someone say it to my face i was just like… oh shit. 

and so far, the second year has been harder. 

i’ve officially been out on my own for a month now. 

the best part about having depression is that no matter where you are, you still have depression. i don’t know why i was expecting moving to just alleviate all of my sadness when i know that i’ll always find a way to be miserable wherever i am. 

it’s nice to be out of abilene and at least have the option of opportunity, but i basically just spend all of my free time asleep or crying. 

as the ancient oracle, britney spears, once said- “my loneliness is killing me.”

now that i’ve started getting into a routine, i’m starting to feel that hole in my life again. 

i’m on the same schedule that i was when i lived in new york, almost. 

when we lived in new york, i would leave for work around 4, i’d get home around 11:30, and then nathan and i would hang out until around 4am, and then go to bed. the next day, he’d usually wake me up at a normal time, (or at least 2 hours before i had to be at work). 

and now i have to leave for work around 4:30, i get home around 11, and when i come home i’m just alone. and i lay in bed until i’m finally exhausted enough to fall asleep, usually around 5am. and then i wake up ten minutes before i have to go to work. 

i have been feeling this deep, existential sadness for awhile now. every night, i lay in bed and think about all of the conversations i wish i could revisit with nathan. all of the things i wish i’d said. i relive all of my favorite moments of ours. i am still so desperate to feel close to him again. 

i cannot remember a time in my life when i was excited to wake up. i cannot remember a time when i looked forward to my future. in fact, when i think about my mental health as a child, the only thing i remember is one time when i was 12, my dad bought me tickets to see my favorite band. i was obviously so incredibly excited, and expressed the human emotion of joy, and my mother accused me of being on drugs because she’d “never seen me act like that before.” it was so surprising to her to see me happy that she literally thought i was on drugs.

i’ve been like this for as long as i can remember, except for the two years that nathan and i were together. i was still so depressed when we lived together, but for the first time, i was looking forward to the future. for the first time, dealing with my depression seemed worth it. for the first time, putting effort into getting better made sense.  

for the first time in my life, i didn’t feel alone. 

and it took a lot of effort on nathan’s part to make sure that i didn’t feel alone. the loneliness i’ve always felt is like a self-fulfilling prophecy. i actively choose to retreat from friendships and relationships. i stop responding to texts. i hide away and cancel plans. it’s my fault that i feel isolated- because i isolate myself. and nathan refused to let me do that. when i get stressed, i internalize everything and take it all on my own- and nathan would recognize when i was doing that and beg me to let him help. and i wouldn’t let him help. but he would still do it, because he knew what i needed without me asking and would just quietly provide it for me so that i wouldn’t lose my mind. and a lot of the time the help was just him actively sitting me down and reminding me that i’m in fact, not alone. i’ll never forget when i was so stressed after moving to new york because i was so poor, and nathan telling me that “it’ll be okay. we’ll figure it out.” i never asked him for money, or for help, because i have too much pride for that. but even when i was working, i was struggling to make ends meet for myself, and he would sneakily do things like go to the grocery store and be like “oh hey, i was at the store today and just picked up some chicken for you so you don’t have to go yourself.” there were a few times when i asked him to pick up something from the halal cart for me because i didn’t want to get out of bed and i’d be like “there’s cash in my wallet just grab it” but instead of taking the money from my wallet, he’d just get the food for me, and put the change he had leftover in my wallet for me to have.

but even past that, just emotionally, he’d always reassure me that i wasn’t alone. as soon as he started to sense me doing the thing where i try to isolate myself, he’d just cling to me even harder. 

here’s the thing: i’m too tired to fight for myself, and i don’t have anyone that’ll fight for me the way that nathan did. 

august 29th, 2019. 5:32pm

so here’s the tea: i went on a date for the first time since nathan died. i went out last night, got drunk, got on bumble and agreed to go on a date this morning. so yeah, i was aggressively hungover, which is maybe not the best version of me for someone to meet- but it’s the version i brought to the table nonetheless. and like, it was fine. well, up until the point he was trying to relate to me and my career in theatre and told me that his favorite musical is CATS. his favorite cat is the rum tum tugger, and he can’t wait to see the movie in december. 

it’s not going to work out. CATS is an abomination and i refuse to spend time with anyone who disagrees with that statement. 

on a more serious note: i realized that i definitely don’t have the emotional capacity to date. i just can’t bring myself to care about anything anyone has to tell me about themselves. you have two sisters, your parents divorced when you were 8 and and you love CATS? zzzzz….sorry, that was me blacking out for 7 minutes. 

y’know, i’m unsure about a lot of things in my life. like, don’t try to ask me what i want for dinner because i refuse to make a decision about anything. don’t ask me what my favorite movie is, or my favorite book. i have no idea, dude, sorry. BUT the one thing i have incredible clarity about is what i deserve in a relationship. i had impossibly high standards before nathan and i were together and now they’re even higher- but that’s fine when you don’t have the emotional capacity to deal with scrubs to begin with. 

the other day, i found my journal that i kept in college. it starts in august of 2015, with the eulogy i wrote for my dad’s funeral. an excerpt: “despite me acting like an awful teen at times, he always was on my side. i think that’s what i’ll miss the most. i’ll miss having someone who had my back 100%. i’ll miss having someone who was always making sure i was happy…” and after reading that, i realized why my relationship with nathan was so successful. i’ve always heard that “girls always end up marrying someone like their dad” thing, and for the most part always chalked it up to weird patriarchal bullshit, but maybe there’s a little truth in it. because i definitely see some of my favorite things about my dad reflected in my favorite things about nathan. 

september 30, 2019. 1:09am

sometimes the saddest things must be sung. 

every time i try to write, it’s impossible to say anything that’s not just “i’m sad.” i haven’t been feeling great lately. i just feel trapped in this infinite loop of sadness and it’s so exhausting. i don’t like being like this. nathan would always get so frustrated with me when my depression was really bad, and i’d always be like do you think this is fun for me??? do you think i like being like this??? do you think i wake up and want to be a goblin??? newsflash my dude, i don’t. 

here’s the thing: when nathan first died, i was sad all the time. but it made sense. i had a reason to be sad all of the time. 

but i’m still sad all of the time. i wake up, i’m sad for 10 hours and then i go to bed. and then i wake up, maybe go to work, come home and be sad until bedtime. it’s a constant loop of sadness and i am so tired. 

nothing i do fulfills me. nothing satisfies me. i have neither purpose nor direction. i’m tired. and i’m sad. 

october 2nd, 2019. 7:34pm

i went to urgent care today- turns out i don’t have depression, i just have a torn ligament in my ankle. 

for context: i fell down the stairs at work the other day, crunched my ankle like it was an empty ozarka water bottle, and just wrecked my shit. i think this injury has me sadness spiraling a lot more than i normally do. now i get why nathan used to get so depressed whenever he’d injure himself.

the first time i got really sick after nathan died, i was so sad. this is my first ever really bad physical injury- i’ve never broken a bone or torn anything before, and i’m really feeling the loss of nathan right now. like how am i supposed to feed myself when i can barely walk to the kitchen? who’s supposed to remind me to take my ibuprofen every few hours? 

senior year of college, i kept getting strep, and the only reason i didn’t die is because every 12 hours nathan would call me to make sure i took my antibiotics, even when i had to take them at 2am. i only have two voicemails from him saved on my phone and literally one of them is from 3am and he’s like “hello wake up, your penicillin is calling, i’m gonna keep calling you until you wake up.” 

even though spraining my ankle was a nightmare, it could’ve been worse. just think, if i was a framing device in an emily bronte novel, i would have just had to live at work for five weeks until it healed.

october 11th, 2019. 5:37pm

i haven’t been sleeping lately, and last night i fell asleep around 6am. the cold front had just blown in and it was raining and i finally fell asleep. before i went to bed, i cracked my windows open for the first time this year and when i woke up this morning it was chilly in my room. i woke up in a little cocoon of all of my blankets and pillows and for a moment, before i completely opened my eyes, it felt like i was back in new york, waking up with nathan on a fall wednesday morning. it’s the little things.

october 25th, 2019. 2:19am

i keep thinking about all the things that have returned to me. all of the things that i gave to nathan that are back in my possession, tucked away in my room. like the grey ut shirt that was 3 sizes too big for me- so i gave it to him as a christmas present our first year together. he had been in new york for a semester, and he surprised me by coming to austin for new year’s- we hadn’t talked about christmas gifts or anything, but we ended up giving each other almost the exact same gift. he had gotten me a columbia sweater, and he slept in it for a few days before giving it to me, so it smelled like him. i did the exact same thing with that grey shirt. we couldn’t stop laughing when we exchanged the gifts because we were so amused that we’d gotten the same thing for each other. 

after he died, that shirt was one of the few that i kept of his, he slept in it all the time when we lived together. it still smells like him. 

i don’t wear my rings anymore, but when i see them in the bottom of my jewelry box, i think about the day that i gave him the engagement ring. he was so afraid of me saying no if he were to propose to me, so i told him that when i knew i’d say yes- i’d give him the ring i wanted him to use. on our first anniversary, i was visiting him in new york, right before i flew back to texas, i left a letter on his desk, with the ring attached. it returned to me a year after that, on our second anniversary when he proposed.

the day after nathan died, i went through all of his stuff. mostly because i knew i was about to fly back to texas and i didn’t know when i’d return to our apartment, so i wanted to collect all of his important documents that i didn’t want to lose. social security card, IDs, cards, passport, etc. but when i was digging through his backpack, i found a folder, where he’d kept all of the letters and cards i’d given to him throughout the years.

my personal favorite was an envelope that had two things in it: a sample size of the perfume that i’ve always worn, and a letter that just said “for when you miss me.” i gave that to him before we were even together. it was during that weird ambiguous era of our relationship where we were too afraid to commit, but were definitely in too deep to not commit. every time i would leave his apartment, he’d comment on how his pillows smelled like me, and how he missed me- right after he made his decision to go to columbia, we assumed we would never see each other again, so i gave him that letter. 

i was surprised to see all of those letters because that meant that he moved them from his apartment in abilene, to new york, to our apartment in new york, back to texas, and then to philly. 

so in turn, i moved them from philly, back to abilene, and now they’re with me in a box in austin. 

and i hope that one day all of the love that i gave to nathan will return to me. 

november 4th, 2019. 12:31am

in the deepest, blackest night of despair if you can get just one pinhole of light, all of grace rushes in.

november 19th, 2019. 2:20am

i’ve started taking up space again.

december 20th, 2019. 1:41pm

y’know, i’ve been doing pretty well for myself lately, and by that i mean that i haven’t had any major meltdowns. well, except for a couple of days ago. it was a christmas party, and as we all know- i’m not great at being social. but i also never turn down an invitation, which is a strange combination of things that happen to exist at the core of my being. but luckily, i got a plus one. see, with a plus one, i have a buffer there. i can bring one of my more interesting friends to carry conversations for me and then by proxy i become more able to socialize because i have to expend less energy by having that buffer there. anyways the person i was bringing as my plus one cancelled two hours before the event which meant that i had no time to try to get someone else to come with me. and this threw me into a major breakdown. i didn’t even want to go to the party at this point, but i had spent so much money on an outfit that if i didn’t go i would have wasted like 60 dollars. and i sat there trying to put makeup on to go but i kept crying and ruining it and then i chugged three white claws before even showing up at the party and i didn’t eat beforehand because there was supposed to be food there but by the time i was done crying and arrived, there was nothing left and then i drank 5 glasses of wine because it was free and i have social anxiety, and somehow i made it through the night without making a fool of myself, which is a miracle. 

the thing is, i really don’t get upset about a lot of things. but if someone cancels or changes plans on me, especially plans that we’d had set for at least a month in advance, i lose my god damn mind. there is historically nothing that upsets me more. 

but this time around, i realized that it really hurt me because it was the first time that i was confronted with the fact that i no longer have anyone in my life that prioritizes me. like, if nathan was begrudgingly my plus one to an event, he can’t get out of it- it’s non-negotiable. but like, i don’t hold that level of importance in anyone else’s life- there’s always something more important to them and uhhhhh that feeling sucks. 

+++

and that was the last note i wrote in 2019. which brings us to january 2020. when i think about my relationship with nathan, i feel like january always ended up being a special month for us. in 2016, january was the first time i ever spent the night with nathan. in 2017, nathan came back to texas to see me for the new year, after we’d been long-distance for five months. at the end of 2017, he went out of town for like three weeks, and i was miserable and all alone for the holidays, but in january 2018, his last day of vacation back home in abilene coincided with my first day of vacation back in abilene so we got to see each other for a little bit instead of having to go an entire month apart during the holidays. 

so i always end up getting weird and do a lot of reminiscing in january- but i feel like that’s kind of universal. 

like the #1 thing that everyone does is get all existential and contemplative when the new year hits. 

+++

in 2018, i never stopped moving. like a shark, i would have died if i stayed in one place for too long. and there i was in 2019, finally staying in one place.

it was a lot easier to ask for help when i had a reason to be sad. but now enough time has passed since nathan died that i feel like a burden when i’m not doing well. 

in my blog post wrapping up 2018, i said that my goal was to be kinder to myself. i also said that 2019 was going to be for starting a new life.

and while i’ve been no kinder to myself, at least i’ve made strides in living in this new phase of my life. in 2019 i moved out of my mother’s house, and back into my best friend’s apartment in austin. i got 3 jobs. i cut off all of my hair and pierced my nose. i started taking up space again. 

a few weeks ago, a coworker of mine told me that she had also lost a partner before. but what stuck with me was when she said, “you will never be the same. you’ll be happy again, and you’ll fall in love again- but you’ll never be the same person again”

and i’m realizing how true that is. 

i think one of the scariest scenarios is waking up one day and not remembering who you are. and that’s exactly what happened to me in 2018. i woke up one day without nathan and couldn’t remember who i was. 

one thing everyone’s been talking about lately is how this is the end of the decade, and i realized that nathan was in my life for the entire decade. he was in my life before the decade even started. and then when he died, i lost such a huge part of my identity. there’s a bear’s den lyric that’s like “i don’t want to know who i am without you,” and that’s what 2019 was for me.

kintsugi is the japanese art of fixing broken pottery by mending the areas of breakage with a lacquer mixed with powdered gold. i’ve always been a vase held by shaky hands, constantly on the precipice of shattering- and in 2018 i was dropped. in 2019, i’ve been finding tiny pieces of myself and trying to piece them back together to form a whole person again. 

recently, i’ve been realizing all of the little pieces of me that are missing. like the part of me that used to be good at holding conversations with people. and the part of me that had the ability to be a person for more than like 3 hours a day. and the part of me that showed excitement about things. i don’t even know what things excite me anymore? do i have interests or hobbies? not really. one time, i described myself as a robot that powers off if i am not at work, and wow, what an apt description.

the other day, one of my friends called me out about how she can never tell if i’m actually excited about something or not. my language is always very vague and even when i’m really stoked about something, i rarely show excitement about it. 

+++

so now it’s february 2020. it’s been a year and a half since nathan died. i’m feeling better. the other day, i came to the realization that i think my emotions have finally leveled off. i’m back to my normal amount of unstable, rather than that really virulent level that i was at for awhile at the end of last year. it feels good to finally have a little bit of control back over my life. i’ve finally really settled in at work, and i’m starting to feel more confident in my capabilities. 

so what are my goals for 2020? i think the biggest thing is to find something that i care about. honestly, probably a big part of the reason why i’ve been having such a hard time finding a Big Girl Job to settle into is because there’s just nothing that i’m 100% passionate about. it’s hard for me to find an answer other than “i’m just trying to not die,” whenever i get asked “so why do you want this job?” i really want to find lasting stability this year. i’m tired of not being able to enjoy anything because i don’t have money. whoever said money can’t buy happiness obviously was never poor because let me tell you, i’d be a lot happier if i could afford to go out with my friends more often. or if i could like…….eat 3 meals a day without feeling guilty for wasting food because i know i can live on just one meal a day. 

i also started doing a skincare routine that involves like 4 different serums and i’ve been doing really well keeping up with doing it twice a day and if i could carry that energy through the rest of the year that’d be dope. i would make a comment about how i’ve been going to the gym every day and how i’m trying to have a 2020 glo-up but i was going to the gym every day for awhile but i haven’t been in like two weeks. 

also my chemical romance just reunited so i guess my other 2020 goal is to see them on this reunion tour.

[lesbian-ed]

Why is it that so many “non binary” identities are claimed by young girls nowadays, typically between the ages of 14-23? Would you say this is due to influence by the media or simply another passing trend to “detach” oneself from femininity? I ask this because I once identified as non binary/trans male when I was in high school. This was in the mid 2000s so the transgender movement wasn’t in full force just yet, but I still don’t know why I did it. What are your thoughts on the whole thing?

Hey there, sister! Been there, done that. I too identified as a nb trans during my highschool years, and it lasted over 3 years of my life.

I definitely believe this is catching on because women, especially young women, are desperate to tear themselves from the terrifying shackles of womanhood. There are such high prices to pay for being female, there is such hatred directed at us… If we’re offered a way out, why wouldn’t we take it?

Analyzing it further, identifying as non-binary puts us kind of on the fence between men and women, and therefore in a way makes us feel more inclusive. If you could choose, wouldn’t you rather share all the advantages of being a man and a woman? And wouldn’t you want to please both sides? 

Apart from that, on the topic of being halfway… A lot of teenage girls are dysphoric as hell. We either start developing breasts around this time, or we don’t, but whichever one is true, we often learn around this time that we should hate our bodies. If we have too big breasts, they’re embarrassing, get too much unrequited attention, might be too big and look wonky. If we have too small breasts, we’re not good enough, not sexy enough, not attractive enough, and that might as well as translate as being invisible. So yeah, if we find this identity that separates us from having to fit into femininity, from having to be perfect… Yeah, we’ll take it. 

Don’t even get me started on how, in a lot of third world countries, as well as more discretely in first world countries, I’m sure, being homosexual is directly linked to “actually being the opposite sex”. I once had to sit through my mom discoursing about how I was suddenly her son, since I came out as a lesbian. I’ve had multiple occasions of having to explain to coworkers that no, I am not in fact a man, and do not wish to be a man. That I love being a woman who solely loves women, that I find solace in being a lesbian. But how handy it would be, if we could just identify out of this bullshit. If we could just… Be non-binary, and “follow no rules”. 

Of course, however, being “non-binary” is just another way to fit within gendered boxes, even if those gendered boxes are mix-matched. It’s a lie we tell ourselves, as we delude ourselves into thinking oppression is something one can identify out of.

It’s a pity, and it’s a travesty, that we have failed our young girls to such an extent that identifying out of womanhood is preferable to working on accepting themselves and each other for the diverse, amazing beings we are. But we do have hope, if only we work on truly objectively empowering our sisters, instead of selling them more capitalist, patriarchal versions of womanhood. 

Womanhood equals femaleness, and there is inherent value in being female. There is inherent value in being a gender nonconforming woman. There is inherent value in each and every woman, no matter what she looks, dresses, or acts like. Nothing, not even all this gender bullshit, can separate womanhood for women. For all its gender lies, non-binary does not, in fact, truly separate women from womanhood. We might be isolating ourselves from other women through it, and we might feel like islands within it… But the truth is that being female and non-binary is an exclusive experience, completely different from being male and non-binary. 

Even as we try to distance ourselves from everything that we believe makes us women, our bodies will forever link us to womanhood, and there’s nothing gender ideology can actually do to change our inherent biological realities.

Mod A

[goldenchildkatsuki]

hey! I was wondering if you can do a tattoo parlour au for the kacchako prompts? I haven’t really seen this kind of au for this ship yet and it would be awesome if you were the one who wrote it, since I really love your writing :)

It took some time but it’s finally finished!

Summary: Uraraka and Bakugou are two tattoo artists in a well respected tatoo parlor that has been chosen to shoot the television series “Tattoo Fixers” in. A show where people can get their horrible tatoo’s fixed by two of the most respected artists in town. Both artists make a sketch to cover up the original tattoo and it’s up to the client to choose which sketch they’re going for, for the cover up. At the start of the season Bakugou comes up with a competition. The artist that has their designs chosen the most by the end of the season is allowed to tattoo something of their choice on the loser.

Writes note: I asked on Tumblr to send a cliché fanfiction trope in my ask box and I would make a decent Kacchako drabble out of it. This is for the fourth ask I received. I was so super excited when I received this, I thought of how I could make this interesting and I immediately thought of the show “Tattoo Fixers” that’s being aired on TLC. Then I thought of how Amy and Jake from Brooklyn 99 got together and it spawned this fic. (see the end for more notes)

Word count: 5.365

AO3 link: (x)

“Kirishima!Jot one more down for me!” Uraraka yelled as she kicked in the door of thebreakroom. Bakugou closely followed her and pointed his finger at his coworker.“I swear to God, pick up that marker and you’re dead punk.”

Kirishimaswiveled his chair from a desk to the whiteboard and shrugged. “It’s not myfault that she’s killing it.” He picked up a red marker and tallied a pointunder Uraraka’s name.

Uraraka letherself fall on the big leather couch in the center of the room, put her feeton the armrest and put her hands behind her head. “He’s right! If you wouldjust step up your game then…” Before Uraraka could finish her sentence Bakugouplaced himself on her stomach, squeezing all the air out of her. “Shut up! Theguy was totally eyeing you the second he came into the parlor, how was thatfair?”

Urarakatried to push him off but he refused to budge, she tried to wiggle out but heonly made himself more comfortable.

“You soundbutthurt.” Uraraka huffed.

“Oh comeon!”

Kirishimachuckled. “You do sound a bit butthurt dude.”

Bakugoushot up and walked over to him. “I will sit on you too if you don’t stopbacking her up.”

“Was thatmeant to be an actual threat?” Uraraka taunted him.

Bakugouglared at her from across the room and she mischievously smiled back at him. Hetried hard to contain his cold stare but he couldn’t help but break characterwhen she beamed like that. The corners of his mouth started to twitch andbefore she could notice he turned away and stuck his nose in the air.

“Instead offucking around shouldn’t you two be working or something?” Bakugou bellowed.

Kirishimaswiveled his chair back to the desk and took a pen he had tucked behind his ear.“Cut me some slack, I’m just working on some possible designs.” He thickened afew lines of a design and squinted at it. “Besides I’m not one of the stars ofthe show.”

“And one ofthe actual stars of the show actually doesn’t have to work for another tenminutes.” Uraraka framed her face and stuck her tongue out. She sat up andraised an eyebrow at Bakugou. “So what are you going to do? Maybe you shouldjoin Kirishima in practicing if you want to win.”

Kirishimathrew a pen from the desk at Bakugou. “Better get started buddy.”

Bakugoutucked the pen behind his ear and poked his tongue in his cheek, he walked tothe couch as he nodded, impressed by the nerve his two coworkers had to insulthim.

“Kirishima,what’s her score?” Bakugou asked.

“44.”Kirishima answered without having to take a look at the board.

Bakugourubbed his chin. “44. And what’s mine?”

“42.”

He heardUraraka trying to hold back a giggle.

“I’m notthat far behind Pink Cheeks, so don’t think you’re going to win.”

Urarakastood up and started walking to the door. “We’re reaching the end of the seasonthough.” She sang.

“Oh I know,and I’ve told you before, but I’m kind enough to tell you again; I’m going tofucking win!” He yelled at her as she left the room.

“Okottomo!”Uraraka sang from the other side of the door.

“Shut itTsukao.” He rolled his eyes at the door.

Bakugou hatedhow well Uraraka has had gotten to know him over the year they’ve workedtogether, it made her an expert in knowing exactly how to push his buttons.Normally Bakugou would have a lot more to fire back with when she was teasinghim like that. He had a whole arsenal of snarky comments that he would’vegladly used on Uraraka. But because she’s winning, it was easier for her toshut him up and have the last laugh.

Though hesounded so confident only seconds ago he couldn’t help but slightly doubt theodds of him actually beating her after the last episode. He didn’t doubt hisown skills and creativity. He had worked hard on developing his own style thatdifferentiated himself from other tattoo artists, focusing on creating his ownbrand, his own label, something that people got jealous over when they saw hisdesigns inked on other people’s skin. It had taken Bakugou 14 thrown awaysketch books, walking away from a prestige visual arts school and isolatinghimself almost reaching the point of breaking down to find a way of sketchingthat screamed his name. It was raw, it was rough but detailed, something no onecould recreate or perfect. Just how he liked it.

You had tohave specific taste and a good pair of balls to slam money on the table and askfor one of Bakugou’s designs, which more people had than expected but it stillmade it hard to win. After he and Uraraka would draw the cover up for theirtattoo, the customers took twice as long looking at his design than they did atUraraka’s. First they would state how much they admired his design but then putit aside by saying it’s ‘probably toomuch for them’.

Uraraka onthe other hand, didn’t have a specific style at all. Bakugou has stared at her notebookfor too long, trying to figure out what it was, and he almost ended up flippingover a table when he just couldn’t put a finger on it. When he looked at herand the tattoo’s she had, he thought he could maybe find some sort ofcorrelation. The tattoo’s she had were overall simple. Nothing to exactly say ‘ooh!’ and ‘ah!’ over. She had little words that had meaning to her. Smallsymbols on her fingers and wrist. And someone was working on inking aconstellation starting from her neck down to her shoulder blades on her.

What shedrew and inked on people was never ‘simple’. Other coworkers have called herthe ‘artist of the people’ almostbeing able to nail the preferred style of the customer right on the head. Hecalled her ‘too much of a people pleaser’,but honestly. It was impressive. Considering she had only drawn for fun sinceshe was old enough to hold a pencil, having no proper education or mentoringwhen it came to art.

It made hera perfect fit for the show and a worthy contender for the competition heinitially came up with.

“You knowshe only riles you up so she can call you that right?” Kirishima commented.

“I know.”

“It’s kindof cute though, those names you have for each other.” Bakugou could hear thesmile forming on Kirishima’s lips.

He scoffed.“Fuck off already!”

“I mean…”

Bakugouwalked towards the door and kicked it open. “I’ve had it with both of youtoday!”

The door promptlygot stopped and Uraraka popped up from behind the door. She pulled her whitemask down to her chin.

“That’s abummer, you have to spend the rest of the day with me!”

He noticedthe crew has touched her up. He noticed that her lashes were longer and darkerthan usual. That was the only thing that stood out to him. The rest of themake-up had most likely ended up on a wet wipe and in the trash.

Bakugou wasthankful that Uraraka didn’t let the whole television situation go to her head.Like him, she wasn’t too bothered about voice overs and sit downs, or wardrobeand make-up. They’ve even discussed fame and publicity and both of them couldn’tseem to implicate it to themselves. They were more happy for the parlor and theincrease in work load.

ForUraraka, art came first. It has always been about the art, the craft and the parlor.

One of thesurprisingly many interests they shared.

Uraraka pointedat the station where the client was sitting, anxious of all the camera’s andlights being set up around him.

“Wannawatch the winner at work?”

“I don’tmind having a mirror besides me when I work on my next client to be honest.”

She let outa breathy laugh and punched his shoulder. “Real funny, so are you watching orwhat?”

Bakugou grinnedand Uraraka let her mask snap back over her mouth. Her eyes nearly closed asshe smiled at him underneath her mask. She clapped her hands together and madeher way to the station as Bakugou followed her.

He stoodnext to one of the camera men and watched Uraraka talk to the client, trying totalk over a few things. It looked like she was trying to comfort him. Theclient kept nodding at her as she let her positive attitude reflect on him. Sheshowed him her design one more time, as a reminder of what he was here for.

It was goodthe client was captivated by the sketch and didn’t notice her hands shaking asthey tightly held on the paper. Bakugou turned away and shook his head. Thestar of the show was ten times more nervous than someone that has probablynever been around these many cameras before. Bakugou knows she wouldn’t admitit, but it’s obvious she’s terribly scared of fucking up. Knowing her shewouldn’t care that she fucked up on television, but she would care more aboutthe client. They came here in the first place to get their messed up tattoo’sfixed after all. And it’s also the people pleaser in Uraraka, always wanting tomake sure to deliver the best result possible.

Urarakadoubted her own talent and skill. What for? Bakugou had never seen her delivera client something that was even slightly off. And she knew it too. He’s toldher, in an attempt to pry those feelings out of her, but of course she jokedaround the compliment. Not even taking it seriously because it came from him, asarcastic little shit that was hardly ever genuine to anyone. Bakugou has neverfelt bad about that title, but it was frustrating that she wouldn’t believe himbecause of that. She deserved to get praise, more than she already received,because it’s clearly not enough for her to believe in herself.

Thedirector demanded silence on the set, which was Uraraka’s queue to put heranxiety aside as much as possible and start. Her shoulders that we’re nearlytouching her ears, gradually came down as she set the first lines of ink on theclients skin. Bakugou caught her eyeing at him a few times as if she looked forvalidation from him. Her gaze became more and more focused as camera’s startedto swivel around her and came in closer for close up. She took a look at herclient who had started soaking up the chair with sweat. Uraraka turned off themachine and pulled down her mask to whisper something in the guy’s ear, whichmade both of them laugh. When the laughter died down she continued her work.

Bakugoucouldn’t help but envy her. He barely took his time to check on his clients, hewouldn’t even know what to say since he was used to all those lenses and lightson him. Even when they weren’t recording and he would get an anxious client hedidn’t exactly know what to do or say. It was always Uraraka that jumped in didall the talking. She was capable of so many things that he wasn’t. It wassomething Bakugou hardly ever admitted about anyone, his ability clearly abovethe rest until she came along. The gap so clear that his pride couldn’t evendeny the thought that all round she was more capable than him. But he also knewthat she could learn plenty from him too.

That’s whatmakes them work together.

He was gladthat reaching the end of the tattoo session Uraraka seemed to have herconfidence back. The confidence she projected moments ago and made her a strongopponent. Bakugou didn’t have to get close to see that the end result wasawesome. The client was visibly excited and even a little bit in awe when hesaw the end result.

Thedirector yelled to stop rolling and immediately a couple of productionassistants flocked the chair and guided the client to another room to shootsome sit down scenes and a couple of voice overs. Poor guy barely had time toproperly thank Uraraka. Before any of the crew members could do the same thingto Uraraka, Bakugou approached her. She pulled down her mask and rubbed thesweat of her forehead, afterwards she raised her hand for a high five.

“I can’tbelieve you’re high fiving the winner, that’s like waving the white flag.”Uraraka laughed.

“Fuck offit’s not. Am I not allowed to tell a coworker they did a good job anymore?”

“Youhigh-fived me, you didn’t tell me.”

Bakugousighed. “You’re difficult you know that?”

He tried tohold back the mischievous side that she so easily knew how to get out of himand decided to make an attempt at being genuine.

“You did agood job.”

“Thankyou.”

He had afeeling this was one of the few acknowledgements that reached her. It was oneof the few times she looked into his eyes for more than a couple of seconds.Like she had much more to say but it didn’t feel right to say out loud. It wasthe first time she let him see her blush. It was the first time she didn’tlaugh the moment away. She simply smiled.

Aunexpected touch pulled Bakugou out of his thoughts and made him turn around.He met the always over-radiant facial expression of the producer. Therewouldn’t be a single time he couldn’t be caught with a toothy smile, pattingsomeone on the shoulder or yelling words of encouragement through the parlor.

“Katsuki,Ochako, my modern day Picasso’s!”

“Too muchGoda.” Bakugou tried to conceal his slight irritation in his voice.

He gave a fewsturdy pats on Bakugou’s shoulder. “Too much? Too much?! Don’t be so modestKatsuki! There’s nothing wrong with acknowledging your talent. It’s because ofyour talent I know this season is going to be a success!”

Urarakawinced as Goda continued to pulverate Bakugou’s shoulder with every word thatcame out of his mouth.

“Goda,”Uraraka interrupted the praise. “Did you want to talk to us about something?”

Immediatelythe producer stopped and pointed at Uraraka.

“Ochako, asalways, very sharp! Yes, I wanted to talk to you about the season finale. Italked it over with a few people and we thought that it would be nice and kickup the rating a notch if we would show some behind the scenes footage!”

Bakugoushot his eyes to Uraraka who stayed focused on Goda.. He didn’t exactly knowhow to feel about it. He didn’t want people to get more invested in ‘every day Bakugou’ than in ‘Bakugou the artist’. He valued that artisticimage of himself more than anything else. His whole life revolved around thatimage; his income, the people he was constantly around. He didn’t want a twominute clip outshining what he prioritized during the whole season, the art.Wouldn’t Uraraka think the same thing?

“Soundsgood to me.” Uraraka said.

Bakugouturned to her.

“Only if weget to take a look at the footage first. Don’t want a scene in there of mestuffing my lunch in my face.”

Bakugou letout a sigh of relief. Uraraka noticed, turned to him and winked at him. Sheknew what she was doing.

“If you didthar she would hesitate to sue your asses.” Bakugou said jokingly.

“Oh, Iwould definitely sue.” Uraraka complemented him.

Godastarted to panic, not realizing that the two were teasing him and hurried themto one of the offices the show has claimed during their time filming there. Itwas a dark lit room, with multiple computer screens set up, wires spread outall across the floor and a concerning amount of mugs on the desk.

In front ofone of the screens there was a girl, with her nose almost against the screen,clicking away on a mouse.

“Kimi, theMichael Kahn of television!”

“Too muchGoda.” the editor spoke with barely any emotion in her voice.

Goda wentout to hold on to both of her shoulders and pulled her a bit back from thescreen.

“Why iseveryone so humble around here?! Kimi, can you please do me a favor and show thesetwo what you had in mind for the behind the scenes clip?”

Kimi rubbedher eyes and adjusted her glasses. “Sure.”

Goda pattedher shoulders, gave her a thumbs up and walked back to the door.

“Ochako,Katsuki, meet me after you’ve been through the footage, we’ll talk over thelast episode okay? Alright? Splendid!”

Kimi loadedup the file as Goda left the room, who visibly cared less about the whole thingthan her boss. She scooted aside as the file opened. Uraraka and Bakugoucrouched in front of the screen and waited for the editor to press play.

“It’s notmuch, but enough to boost the views. Tell me what you don’t like and it goes inthe trash.” Kimi told them as she looked for a mug that wasn’t empty. Whenfinally getting hold of one she pressed play and laid back.

The footagewas raw. There wasn’t anything edited yet to make it more appealing or special.It was just them. Laughing at and with each other. Teasing each other andjoking around. Working on sketches together during their breaks, occasionallybending over the other’s to make adjustments. Uraraka running over couches andchairs as Bakugou chased her for a comment that went out of line. Sleeping onand against the chairs in the stations as they passed out from eating too muchduring lunch. Racing each other in their office chairs after hours. Watchingeach other work on clients, both interested and eyes full of admiration,wearing soft smiles as they couldn’t take their eyes of each other.  

The footagewas raw. There wasn’t anything edited yet. So that’s what they looked like.

They lookedlike two people that couldn’t get enough of each other.

They lookedlike they were in love.

When theclip ended, no one said a word. Bakugou pinned his eyes on the editing programas if there was more footage to be shown.

Kimicoughed and closed the program. “What do you think?”

Uraraka andBakugou shot up straight and started stumbling over their words, pointing atthe screen and gesturing to Kimi, hopelessly rambling about the footage.

“So, is itgood or not?”

“Y-yes! Imean, yes it’s f-fine!” Uraraka babbled. “Right?”

“I-I mean,yeah! I guess? I m-mean.” Bakugou stammered.

Kimi glaredat them at the messes they were and then turned back to one of her manyscreens. Slowly she leaned closer to the screen and continued her clicking.

“Good.”

It was anobvious hint for them to leave the editor’s office and they took it, avoidingmaking eye contact with each other as they left and searched for Goda. Knowingthat Uraraka doubtlessly saw what Bakugou saw too left him feeling curious. Hewanted to know how she felt and what she thought. She obviously felt awkwardyes, but wouldn’t anyone? He didn’t really know what to expect from her if hewere to ask that. He hardly knew how he felt about that himself.

LuckilyGoda’s enthusiasm didn’t allow him to ponder for too long. He welcomed to withopen arms to the couch in the waiting area and offered for them to sit oppositehim. Both of them cradled against an arm rest and stared straight ahead. Godapicked up all his papers and went straight to business.

“It’s ashame but all good things have to come to an end. We’re aiming to film the nextepisode in an hour from now. There’s nothing too special about it. We mightrecord some voice overs and sit downs but overall this a regular episode andyou two should treat it as one. I suggest you two take a break, as we talk tothe clients about privacy and other non-interesting matters.”

Goda lookedat them and waited for a response, he only got a nod out of them. Not sure whatto do himself the producer stood up and left them at the couch.

“Uraraka-“

“Bakugou-“

Theychuckled at the messy start of a conversation. Uraraka scooted an inch closerand hesitantly met Bakugou’s eyes. She raised her fist.

“Let’s doour best alright?”

“Mhm.”

Uraraka gotup from the couch and made way to the bathroom. Bakugou slouched down andrubbed his face. He had an exact hour to forget about the footage and focus onbeing able to bring some good sketches to the table for the season finale. Itwouldn’t help being around her like he usually was during breaks. It lookedlike she thought the same thing as he could just about see her bolt to thebreak room after exiting the toilet.

He decidedto take the pen behind his ear and piece of paper he saw on the receptionistdesk and draw. Nothing in particular, nothing but random shapes, thick and thinlines, with no meaning. There wasn’t anything with meaning he could think of todraw, his mind continued to be occupied with the confronting footage and thethought of Uraraka being scared away by it.

It was theslowest hour he ever had to endure in his life and he had never been this gladto see Goda walking up to him with his signature smile. Immediately he balledup the piece of paper and threw it in the nearest trash can.

“Are westarting?” Bakugou asked.

Goda was abit taken aback by Bakugou’s sudden eagerness.

“Yes, we’vealready done the voice over with the first client so we’re ready when youare.”  The producer pointed back at the oneof the offices that also got claimed by the crew.

Bakugou ranback into the break room to collect his lucky drawing pencil and returned tosee Uraraka already sitting opposite the costumer, already making small talk.

He went to greetthe client and sat down next to Uraraka who didn’t shy away or create anydistance between them.

“You’regiving me an advantage here by letting me already win over the client.” Urarakajoked.

He wasn’tsurprised that Uraraka seemed to be in a much better state than he was. She wasdealing with nerves all the time and when taking her time she knew how tosuppress them. Bakugou hardly ever got nervous, he had a bad case of tunnelvision when it came to work, so this was new to him. The feelings and thoughtsthat didn’t want to go away.

But sheindirectly handed him a helping hand, by mentioning their competition. If hewould just focus on winning then his mind would become less crowded, all hiscreativity would pour out through his pencil and onto his paper.  

With thatin mind they started filming the last episode. He actually started feeling goodagain, confident even, as the first three clients went for his design. He wasable to joke around with Uraraka again in between filming, seen as they both gotvery into the competition again.

The fourth customerUraraka got in the bag, but he wasn’t worried as he could connect very wellwith the fifth customer who called himself a ‘fan of his style’. Bakugou enjoyedthe petty tone in Uraraka voice and the nervous fumbling she did with her pinkpencil. He could tell she was itching to work harder, she was scared she wasn’tgoing to win.

But it turnedout Uraraka was scared for nothing. The last two client choose her designs.

LeavingBakugou at a score 46 and Uraraka at 47.

Uraraka hadwon.

When thelast customer chose her design, she said nothing. She said nothing whenpreparing for the session, she said nothing until the customer had set a footout of the parlor.

As soon asshe heard the buzzer of the door, she jumped up on the coffee table and raisedboth of her fists in the air. She threw her head back and exclaimed: “I did it.I won!”

Othercoworkers came out from their offices and stations and applauded her.

“Kirishima,the board please.” She waved at him to come near.

Kirishima, alreadyhaving prepared for this as he had a good look on her station from the breakroomwhere he stayed during filming, came out with the white board. He handed her themarker and let her tally the last scores. He fist bumped her and shrugged atBakugou.

“Dude.”

“Not anotherword.”

The filmcrew stood confused around the celebrating tattoo artists that have beenanticipating the outcome ever since the white board was put in the breakroom.

Urarakanoticed the confusion. “And it’s also the end of the season! Good workeveryone. Give yourselves a round of applause too!” She tried to better the situation.

Slowly thecrew started clapping, Goda’s applause sounded well above the rest and hewalked over Uraraka.

“Yes, Yes!Ochako is right, give yourself some praise! Everyone has done an exceptionaljob these past few months. You’re all winners in my eyes. Bravo, bravo!”

Uraraka andKirishima tried to hold in their laughter as Goda paraded towards his crew, givingthem all a pat on the shoulder and telling them to start cleaning up. As theparlor started to get cleared they two giddy artists started to dance their wayover to Bakugou that was trying his absolute best not to roll his eyes out ofhis skull.

Urarakashimmied her shoulders towards Bakugou.

“Are youready for another tattoo Bakugou?”

“Whatever.”was the only thing he could bring himself to say in that moment.

Theyprobably expected him to yell out every curse word under the sun, they expectedhim to get embarrassed having to take back his cocky statements.

Buthonestly, she won fair and square and when he took another look at her notebook,there was no way of denying that.

Urarakafrowned at him. “Okay I’m sorry, if you don’t want to go through with it it’sfine.”

“But everyonealready voted for where the tattoo was going to go!” Kirishima moaned at her.

She elbowedhim without breaking eye contact with Bakugou. “No, they haven’t. And even if theyhad, I had my own idea in mind that I was going to go with regardless, if that’sokay with Bakugou of course.”

Who was heto take away her well-deserved win?

“Fuck it,let’s do it. We shook on it and I trust you to not fuck me up.”

Urarakatook her pencil out of her bun and pointed at him. “That’s more like it. Let’sget started then.”

They leftKirishima stammering about the votes behind and went to settle at her station. Urarakawaited until the last lights and other equipment were cleared before shuttingthemselves off with the white screens.

“We’ve beenogled at enough don’t you think? Besides, I want the others to be surprised.”She told him as she put them in place. Bakugou sat on the chair and watched her.She has never looked so calm before. There wasn’t a hint of worry in her eyes.

“Where’s itgonna go?”

“Seen asyour arms are covered already, I wanted to go for your ribs.”

Bakugou relaxedhis body more. “Interesting.”

“You shouldfeel lucky, almost everyone voted for butt cheek.”

“I thoughtyou guys didn’t vote.” Bakugou squinted his eyes at her.

Urarakaalmost dropped the packet of sterile wipes. “We didn’t! Now, if you could please…”She nodded at his shirt. Bakugou kept squinting at her as he removed his shirt.He stretched, laid down and made himself comfortable.

Uraraka swallowedand put on her mask. She sat down on her chair and prepared the tattoo. Everytime Bakugou wanted tried to peek she would turn his head to the oppositedirection. He tried to feel what she was going for, but it was hard to makeout.

Even whenthe needle touched his skin he couldn’t tell. He stopped thinking about it ashe enjoyed the feeling of getting inked. It has been a long time since he had gottenone since he had been too busy with the show to think about what he couldpossibly get.

“It wasfun, wasn’t it?”

A mufflednoise tried to reach above the buzzing noise.

“Kinda,yeah.”

“It didlook like we had a lot of fun.” Uraraka continued.

Bakugouknew exactly what she was talking about.

“You thinkso?” He mumbled.

Urarakatook the needle of him and looked up, her eyes smiled at him.

“I think soyeah. I would say I have never seen myself look happier.”

“I don’tthink I’ve ever seen myself like that either.” Bakugou fixated his stare at theceiling.

Urarakawaited for a moment before continuing her work.

“Was itweird for you, I mean, all of that?”

He couldn’tstop himself from asking, he hoped he had judged the feel of the moment rightand he didn’t make her uncomfortable.

“At firstit was,” she casually answered. “I had no idea that’s how I was acting thewhole time, I could barely recognize myself. But like I said, it’s because I’venever seen that side of myself before. Now, when I think back to it, I don’t feelweird, it was nice seeing myself like that. It has actually put things into placefor me.”

She startedto talk slower and slower, careful to choose her words.

“I know howyou feel.” Bakugou answered, he turned to her and tried to replicate thegenuine look he had given her earlier, hoping it would reassure her that he in factknew exactly how she felt.

He felt thesame way after all.

He was gladshe could put his it into words. He was glad there were no jokes involved. Itwas the most genuine they’ve ever been with each other.

She looked backat him and her eyes lit up, quickly she finished up the last details of thetattoo in silence.

Bakugou noticedhow shadows started to appear behind the screens and couldn’t help but smile.

Thosefuckers had known all along hadn’t they?

Uraraka wipedthe last bits of ink away and looked satisfied at the end result. Excited sherevealed her big grin that was hidden underneath her mask and pulled off hergloves. She stood up and put her hands on her hips.

“It mightnot look like much, but I think this is one of my best ones yet.”

She pickedup a mirror laying underneath equipment. “Ready?”

Bakugoustood up and Uraraka pointed the mirror at his ribs, angled it so he could easilysee the result.

“No way.”

In her own handwritingshe had tattooed ‘Okottomo’ rightunder his peck. It was in a something he had never seen from her before. It washer style. Even if it was just her handwriting, it was hers, not something shefabricated to make sure to satisfy him.

He lookedup at her and saw Uraraka biting her lip in excitement behind the mirror.

“I shouldhave known. It’s sick though.”

“Really,you actually like it?”

Bakugoulifted her hand so she raised the mirror again.

“Surprisinglyyes. Now I really can’t escape that name, but I don’t mind.”

Uraraka dugher nails in her palms and threw her head back as she let out a little squeal.

“But it’sonly fair if you get ‘Tsukao’ inkedon you though.”

“Well, ifyou have time…?”

Bakugouwidened his eyes.

“So rightnow?”

“Yes, I guess right now.”

He smirked.“You’re on.”

Writers note: “Okottomo” = okotte (angry) + kodomo (child). Uraraka put those two words together to create a nickname for Bakugou.“Tsukao” = tsuki (moon) + kao (face). Bakugou put those two words together to create a nickname for Uraraka.

[the-stories-in-my-head-95]

What Happens to One

Steve Rogers x Reader x Bucky Barnes

Summary- In a world where you feel everything that happens to your soulmates, you drew the short straw.

Message- the reader is enhanced like Steve.This didn’t really come out how I wanted it to. Should I do a part 2? Sorry if it sucks!

Warning- self injurious behavior. Chronic pain- kinda

Word Count- 1499

You had never known a life without pain or cold. When you were born you screamed like every other baby, but what set you apart was the fact that you never stopped screaming and you were cold. It didn’t matter how warm the room, or how many blankets your parents covered you with. As you grew, you noticed that your left arm always felt funny. Sometimes you would fall to the ground and seize, it felt like there was electricity coursing through your body. You were also strong, like really, really strong. You were fast, and all of your senses were enhanced, too. It didn’t take long for your parents to figure out that you must have more than one soulmate, because no one person would be able to handle all of that pain.

***

You had grown to hate your soulmates. The pain and cold made it so you could never live a normal life. Your parents took you all over the world, looking for a way to cut the connection between you and your soulmates, but nothing ever came from it. During your darker days wondered if they enjoyed the pain, and the cold, knowing how it ruined you.

Then one day you woke up warm. It was an odd sensation, but you didn’t really have time to think about it, because you had to get ready for work. You dressed in your usual thick sweaters, scarves and gloves, but when you got outside you skin started to water- sweat, you were sweating. You could feel it all over your body. So you went back up to your apartment and you took off you scarf, gloves and sweater. Then for the first time ever you left your house in just a regular shirt.

It had been a couple of weeks, and you had finally gotten used to being warm. You had bought new clothes, now that you could wear summer clothes.

“Hey, Y/N.” Your coworker said to you as you sat at your desk. You smiled at them and booted up your computer, the office was quite, until someone ran into the room.

“Have you guys seen the news yet?” They say. You move to turn the television on, you change the channel to the news and you drop the remote in shock. There was a hole in the sky in New York.

“Oh my God.” You whisper. Everyone in your office watches in shocked silence as the world ends. But then you see Iron Man fly a missile into the hole.

Everyone was shell shocked in the weeks following the attack, the world as everyone knew it had changed. Aliens existed, Captain America was alive and apparently Norse Gods existed. You were speculating on everything that had happened when you realize you stopped feeling cold after Captain America was found and brought back. It made sense- in theory. But you needed to test it. So you come up with a plan and wait.

Eventually there’s an interview with the Avengers that’s a livestream. You get a bowl, fill it with water and ice and then shove your right hand in and wait. You keep your eyes on the screen and after a couple of minutes you Steve open and close his hand a couple of times, then he shakes it and uses his other hand to massage it. So either one of your soulmates is Captain America or this was a really weird coincidence. You decide that this was your time to shine and get a little revenge on the man that had made you cold your entire life, so you do little things like pinch your butt really hard when you know that he’s doing an interview. It’s really fun watching him squirm, sometimes you sit in awkward positions until your legs fall asleep, so you can watch Steve fall on his face. It’s petty, but you’ve never really been a saint and you’re having fun. Also it’s not like you’re hurting anybody- well except if you counted Caps ego.

***

You never go to him, not when a city flies and not when SHIELD falls. You also figure out that Bucky Barnes is probably your other soulmate. The metal arm would explain why your left arm always feels funny. You’re eating breakfast when you find out about the attack on UN. You do your best to ignore it, but eventually you feel like you’re being beat up, but it’s twice as bad. They must be together, this had happened once before when the helicarriers crashed, but you still don’t go to them. You seal yourself away and try to block out all of the pain. But the pain keeps getting worse and worse, you scream out in pain when your left arm feels like it’s getting ripped off, eventually you black out from the pain. When you come to you decide that you need to find them.

***

It takes a year, but you finally find out that they are hiding out in Wakanda. There are no flights into Wakanda, since they keep themselves isolated from the outside world. So you book a ticket to the neighboring country and then you drive to the border and sneak across. After about 3 hours of trekking through the jungle you hear footsteps.

“Are you a thief, or are you very lost?” A woman says.

“I am here to see Captain Rogers. I am his soulmate.” You say as you raise your arms into the air and then you slowly turn around, there are three women standing there with their weapons pointed at you. One of them comes over and binds your wrists together and they lead you back to the palace.

“You will stay here.” They say as the lock your bound hands to the table.

“Okay.” You say. The room looks like a traditional interrogation room. You look at the one way mirror, but before you can do anything else the door opens again.

“I am King T’Challa, this is Sam Wilson.” T’Challa says as the two men sit down. “Why are you here?”

“I’m here for my soulmate… well soulmates. I’m assuming Bucky Barnes is here to.” You say as you lean in a bit. They look at one another and then back at you.

“What makes you think that they are here?” T’Challa says.

“Well he’s here.” You say as you motion to Sam. “So, I’m assuming the rest of the team is here to. Also it’s like the world’s worst kept secret.”

“Do you have proof?” Sam asks. You roll your eyes and snap the bounds that are holding your wrists.

“What happens to one, happens to all. And if that’s not enough ask Cap if he’s appreciated the butt pinches over the last couple of years.” You say with a grin. Then you hear a knock on the window and Sam and T’Challa get up and leave without another word. Then a couple of minutes later the door opens and in walks two very distressed looking men.

“How long have you known?” Captain America asks.

“Since the attack on New York. I had been cold my whole life and then one morning I woke up and I wasn’t cold anymore. Then a couple weeks later the sky in New York opened up and you were there. I put two and two together and then I tested the theory.

“Why didn’t you come to me?” Steve asks with a pained expression.

“I’ve been in pain since the day I was born. Forgive me if I didn’t want to meet the cause of it all.” You say as you put your feet up on the table. “Also, I was having fun messing with you. The butt pinches, the numb legs. I was having fun being a little petty. I would have come around eventually. But then the Accords happened and I just felt like I needed to find the two of you.” You say. “Also, thank you for the super powers. They’ve really come in handy over the years.”

“Your welcome? I’m sorry about the pain we caused you.” Steve says and Bucky nods.

“It’s fine, I already have my revenge planned.” You say.

“What is it?” Bucky whispers.

“Oh, if we ever have kids, I’m giving birth naturally. No drugs.” You say and they both go pale.

***

Falling in love with Steve and Bucky was easy. They were both into old fashioned romance and they had been wooing you since you had left the interrogation room.

“Hey, Doll, you ready for dinner.” Bucky says as you walk into the kitchen.

“Yeah” you say as you wrap your arms around him, then you give him a deep kiss when you break away you lean your forehead against his. “Maybe tonight we can skip dessert and go have some fun. You know the bedroom kind.”

“That sounds like a great idea.” Steve says as he wraps his arms around both you and Bucky.

Permanent Tag List- @spideytrxsh  @helgahuffelpuff @just-another-teen01 @iamwarrenspeace @sai-kida134 @thevillainway @thekayceenicole @loneliestlittlerainbow @jenniegs @queenrhae666 @mylifeisbeingconsumedbypineapple @thedoctorscamanion

Marvel Tag List- @tabziecat  @i-love-superhero @i-hate-the-pie-people @i-just-wanna-run-hell

Stucky- @bloo-moon-freak @bandsandanimefreak 

[beatrixedercoaching]

Your Daily Word Of Inclusiveness | Beatrix Eder Coaching

                      How to speak an inclusive language

Recently I conducted a brief poll on LinkedIn (https://lnkd.in/gTDaKPs) asking the professional community what they experience as their biggest challenge to implementing Inclusive Leadership.

First of all, I want to thank all the people who have taken a moment to participate and many of them continued the conversation in public comments and private messages.

Challenges to practicing Inclusive Leadership

The intention of the poll was to see the overall perception and get a sense of what makes it difficult for people to practice inclusiveness. Most people today are exposed to working with others across differences of gender, race, generation, language, culture, beliefs and personal orientations. Many of the multinational organizations are convinced that diversity is not just political correctness but a business imperative and many have defined concrete goals around diversity such as having more women in leadership positions, reviewing practices around hiring people from a more diverse pool of talent or decrease pay disparities.

The poll gave four options as main obstacles to implementing Inclusive Leadership:

No alignment with business strategy

Not embedded in daily actions

Lacking accountability

Recognizing subtle bias

Embedding inclusive practices in daily actions

The biggest difficulty appears to be around embedding inclusive practices in daily actions followed by recognizing subtle bias.

The reason for this is that among the well-meaning company policies and intentions of creating an inclusive workplace, there is little cohesion on how this should look in daily actions between employees. Taking a closer look, it becomes clear that most people have only a vague idea what inclusiveness means, how we can recognize it and how we experience it.

Having a clear definition around concepts shows what is truly important about the concept and allows for a common understanding by many people. Only when an organization is able to make a statement about the fundamental nature of “inclusiveness”, are they able to measure it, incentivize it and build it into the corporate culture at all hierarchical levels.

How can we expect people to practice something consistently if there are vague or different definitions of what they should be doing?

Inclusiveness: leverage the diversity of the group

Being inclusive means effectively working, communicating and building relationships with people across differences in regards to gender, generation, race, language, religion / beliefs, sexual orientation and abilities. Being inclusive means seeing these differences as valuable qualities of each individual’s identity and giving each individual the same opportunities. Inclusive leadership involves inviting different people, engaging everyone to participate, listening to their views and valuing the differences.

Inclusive leaders direct, guide and influence people in a more curious, collaborative, creative and compassionate way in order to leverage the diversity of the group and achieve a common goal with more creativity and effectiveness.

Diversity is the metric. Inclusion is the mechanism. Engagement is the feeling.

Practicing a few habits consciously, consistently and in a way that is observable to others makes you the inclusive leader that you are and aspire to be. As a general attitude, you can

proactively seek out others different from yourself,

learn about their perspectives with genuine curiosity

value differences and consider how each of these differences help finding better solutions.

Creating such an environment helps that people feel accepted, welcome, heard and valued - and this is the felt experience of inclusion. The result of this felt experience is engagement, which means that people are emotionally connected to the workplace and the coworkers. Engagement is what drives people to give their best and keeps them loyal to the company.

As with most things, being inclusive becomes easier with ongoing practice. For this, people need

Information to continuously educate themselves on notions around their cultural blueprint, their relationship to power / rank / privilege and competencies how these differences can be bridged in a way that is enriching

Awareness of themselves as individuals and as players in their social environment

Commitment to be deliberate in their choices and courageous in their actions.

Acts of micro-inclusion

If you want to bridge the gap between inclusion as rhetoric and concrete actions, you need to open your eyes and ears to situations where differences show up. Each one of us encounters these situations several times a day, so there are plenty of opportunities to practice. When you go about your day with an attitude of curiosity and compassion, observing situations not only from your own perspective but that of people different from you, you will recognize many occasions that wait for you to show up as the inclusive leader you already are and want to be perceived as.

We call these tiny acts of inclusiveness micro-inclusion. Micro-inclusions are the opposite of isolation: they are deliberate acts of connecting with our common humanity, remembering that each one of us has feelings of inadequacy and disappointment. It is the understanding that despite our individual and unique qualities, something connects us and that we all belong to a system that is beyond our individual projects and goals.

6 tips for practicing inclusive language

So what are concrete examples of practicing inclusiveness at work? How can you widen the circle and invite more people inside?

Let’s start with inclusive language. We speak all day and there are several scientific studies that show the impact of the language we use on our thoughts. Words are not just labels but they reveal our perspective. Words have power and they influence our actions – and over time our culture.

Here are 5 tips on how to consciously choose your words to help others feel accepted, welcome, heard and valued.

1) Gender-neutral language

It probably happened at least once or twice that you have addressed your team with “guys”, even though it was a mixed group with women, men and maybe even non-binary people. Using gendered language can exclude those people who do not identify as the gendered expression you have used. A better alternative is to say “Hey, team / everyone / friends / folks”.

2) Alternative pronouns

We tend to use “he /his” as generic pronouns which implicitly tells us that the person referred to is a male. In English, you can use “they / their” as singular generic pronoun to show that all people are included, independently of their gender or identity. Example: Instead of “Each employee is welcome to share his or her thoughts” you can say “Each employee is welcome to share their thoughts”.

3) Simple vocabulary and clear pronunciation when speaking with non-native speakers

When you are a native English speaker and you speak with people whose mother tongue is not English, remember to use common words and avoid idioms or your local slang. I still remember how difficult it was for me the first time I worked with an Australian manager: not only did I have real trouble understanding his accent; he also used words that I had no idea of what they meant. One day he gave me directions to go to a client and said that at a certain street I have to take a “chuck a uey”…. A what? As I learned, “chuck a uey” in Australian means a U-turn!

4) Be conscious about how you qualify people based on their gender

Often, people will attribute different adjectives when they describe the same behavior of a man or a woman. Common examples are being assertive (man) versus bossy (woman), passionate (man) versus hysterical (woman) or empathetic (man) vs emotional (woman), persuasive (man) vs argumentative (woman).

When you describe another person’s behavior or attitude –especially when you perceive it as negative - check in with yourself: Would you use the same word if it was the other gender?

5) Avoid stereotypes, even positive ones

Sometimes people think they are saying a compliment and forget that what they actually voice is a stereotype, generalizing a group of people.

Common examples:

“Women have a natural mothering instinct and are more caring”

“Asians are good at math and science”

“Gay people are generally more sensitive, open-minded and creative”

All these expressions paint a caricature of the person to whom we are referring. When you speak, check-in with yourself if the words you are using have an “all” or “no one” perspective.

6) Avoid words with a negative or passive meaning

Sometimes we use unconsciously words that describe another person as weak. Sometimes we use these expressions to show our compassion. And yet, it is more inclusive and respectful to use neutral or positive words.

Examples:

Instead of “X is suffering from [illness]” say “X has [illness]”

Saying that “X is fighting [illness]” implies that the illness is something that has to conquered and annihilated and people having a specific illness might hear an underlying opinion that they have the illness because they did not fight hard enough / were not strong enough.

Instead of “X was victim of an accident” say “X had an accident”

Use language to include and empower others

The language we speak will give cues about our perspectives and opinions and will influence our relationships with others. Furthermore, using an inclusive language shows our willingness to connect with others on a human level, understand their individual situation and feel for them.

Speaking an inclusive language is an ongoing journey with situations in which we will all make mistakes. As an inclusive leader, own your mistakes and commit to understanding how the background of another person shapes their experience and that we can have a very different interpretation of the same situation.

Will you consciously choose your words to include and empower others?

Will you use at least three times inclusive language at your workplace today?

[dahniwitchoflight]

Alright, back to Cherubs

for some reason I really want to talk about Cherubs and what their hypothetical kind of society might look like and work like if you ectobiologized a planet full of cherub eggs to sit there and grow together like they did with the humans and trolls in Homestuck’s epilogue

this got very long lol

since the only factor for who lays an egg is “who lost the fight” in this species, but most commonly Cherubs seek out mates because they want to fill the void left behind when their headmates die

It’s probably likely that Cherub’s default sexuality is all 3 alignments being opposite, find a mate whos exactly like your old headmate, triple hetero lol

so then they probably consider anyone who likes another person with any alignment in common as being deviant somehow, and probably wouldnt have a word to differentiate between say, a malexmale pair, a goodxgood pair, or a creationxcreation pair, as they are all same alignment pairs, though the closer you are to dating one like yourself, the weirder its probably seen as

cuz I’m just imagining what would happen on a planet filled with the ecto babies of cherubs, just like how homestuck’s ending had those countries of trolls, humans and carapacians, like what kind of culture would they create?

Calliope is proof that Cherubs can form a kind of social culture if they are specifically raised and socialized into one, its probably still a naturally introverted culture overall though, very individual focused. Your not gonna get huge close groups naturally forming by themselves or staying together for no reason, Cherubs likely only naturally interact with like, coworkers. People they are already around on a regular basis and interact with regularly for other practical reasons

most “friend” groups would be based around a task, or a goal. We are all gathered here today for a specific reason, and once that reason is accomplished we go our separate ways, we work at the burger king together, or we take care of our neighborhood together, or we all like to bicycle this path once a week. but outside of that task never interacting. but again most cherubs outside of this are very introverted individual focused, most don’t need much socialization at all.

funnily enough despite not being a very social species, I can see mixers being increasingly common, larges groups hanging out specifically for the common purpose of finding a compatible partner

definitely one on one interactions are probably the rarest I’d say, unless a person is an established couple

as for their only quadrant being pure Kismesis like, Individual Competition probably stands out as the overall theme of Cherub Society and even in groups with a common goal like coworkers or bicycling together, or students in the same class all there to learn together, the unspoken idea is that everyone in the group is also competing to be the first to reach their shared goal. Coworker of the Month, Highest Marks, Fastest Time etc and It works and doesn’t devolve into a “crabs in a bucket” situation because each individual is focused on bettering themselves only, ignoring the rest as much as possible and only co operating when absolutely necessary, they don’t try to sabotage any of the rest in the group from the shared competitive goal, unless they are SPECIFICALLY flirting and/or dating that individual. Other cherubs who you aren’t specifically interested in barely even get your focus, and helping or being kind to others, aka redrom/palerom stuff is just WEIRD on all fronts

redrom/palerom/grayrom stuff is almost seen like, you giving up on your identity, like you might as well have been dominated by your headmate for how much you exist as an individual because you gave up on competing for the best spot, its weird to an almost concerning degree to other cherubs to witness this sort of behavior, but they wouldn’t be actually concerned, just fundamentally disturbed, redrom is like, you giving up on your own identity (hey other cherub, you all might as well win rather than me!), palerom is you telling someone else that their identity doesn’t matter (comforting, like its okay that you failed, no it isnt, not to cherubs), and greyrom is actually getting in the way of other cherubs building up their identities, (stopping competition between others, getting in the way of someone elses relationship) dominating someone who isn’t your headmate basically, all three of these other quadrants are seen by society cherubs as having very misplaced or malformed, even malicious priorities 

(and thats because redrom/palerom/greyrom stuff happens between cherubs in the same group competing for the same thing. between cherubs who arent competing, it wouldnt happen because nobody interacts with someone they arent competing with in some group in some form. thats why things like cheering for your favorite athlete on a citywide competition is alright, as long as you yourself arent directly competing against them in that same competition at that same time)

large scale country wide competitions of all kinds are hugely pervasive and common events, everything and anything becomes an olympic sport because to Cherubs, because being solidly the best at something is how they affirm their identities and who they are individually

so its like, weirdly reflective of human society, but so fundamentally different as well. Overall the concept of our “friends” doesnt exist much, but they still have things like groups of individuals gathering for a common shared purpose. Just no further attachment to those groups once they’ve served their purpose

Maybe even “Society” itself is seen as one large group that every Individual Cherub is competing in, I wonder what they decided their common goal was for “society?” is it global? based on countries? do different alignment cherubs have different competing political parties with different goals? Creation party versus Destruction party? but something higher must tie all cherubs together society wise, something that they use to self justify why they all co habitate on the same planet like this other than “because we’ve always done this as far as anyone remembers” maybe its all just skilled based, maybe its not destruction versus creation party, but like, sports party versus artistry party versus construction party versus music party etc etc all competing against eachother for recognition of “most skilled” perhaps their leaders are all cherubs who have the highest number of mastered measurable skills, winner of most competitions etc all tv channels are just different flavors of aired competitions

even their news channels is just cherub society documenting and broadcasting to the species how well they are competing with other species on various fronts on various things and what new things have been implemented as a result of upping the competition with other species

maybe cheering for people who you arent directly competing with at the same time is acceptable because of the larger society wide goal? where the society wide overarching goal for every cherub that all cherubs are competing to do the best at is “make cherub society the greatest society, better than any OTHER society” again, a competition, just on a grander scale, so wins that you arent directly involved with as an individual (aka you are a cherub chef cheering at a footrace example) are still wins for the cherub race as a whole, so still technically a win for you, of course, someone who cheers too much at too many different events is still seen as someone who has given up any of their chances at winning at far too many skills. if you cheer for baseball, your acknowledging you arent good at baseball, if you cheer for baking, baseball, running, horseback riding, speech giving and swimming. you’re saying you aren’t good at any of those things, much more damaging to a cherub’s identity. Its understood by cherubs that not every cherub will be skilled at everything (even leaders are just “most” things not, everything,  people who are skilled at everything being more likely highly revered by more of cherub society for at least one of their skills) so being a fan of one or two or three different skillsets is generally accepted, but being a “cheerleader” is just seen as plain unhealthy

as for alignments, they probably get a very huge focus, considering they are broadcast in very loud obvious colors on every cherub, Cherry Red, Lime Green, Blinding White and Jet Black

Male versus Female seems to only subtle or able to be hidden well alignment, but of course its revealed as soon as your breed due to the nature of your childs alignments being based on your own gender

but, since alignments of the next generation only depend on the current generation, and as well as Parenting is definitely less of a singular focus for Cherubs. (I highly doubt individual families exist in a “cherub society”) same alignment pairings probably don’t reflect at all on the baby cherub born, since it would still have its own 3 alignments that have a natural opposite in a different cherub.

Going to families though, again with parenting individuals not being a focus, and rather the common idea of groups coming together for a common purpose. I Find it very likely that every Cherub of a generation is raised together as a group. Like Laying Parents just go back to the hatchery where they themselves were born, drop off their eggs, and go back to their lives. They probably keep documentation of lineages at hatcheries, but I think most cherubs don’t really care to know their exact biological parents/children/Parents don’t keep tabs on their egg after they drop it off. Its reflective of natural cherub “non” society as well, where Cherubs born in isolation out in space are born near a planet that was their laying parent’s birthplace, to be left alone and raise themselves. 

since lineages are documented, same alignment pairings frowned upon, and families not raising individuals, I can see it being very hard for same alignment pairings to raise eggs at all. even if you drop off your egg alone, your child’s alignments will reveal yours or your partners, but maybe in that case it’s better to claim the egg as not your own anyway, that wouldn’t be all that taboo. You can claim you just found an egg out in the wilderness and most Cherubs would assume that mated pair had just been irresponsible with the next generation, whoever they were and the egg would be accepted, but have no lineage. The child itself would be overall unaffected much, especially if cherub society already places not that much importance on who your parents actually were individually

they care about alignment pairings matching up then to keep a balance of all the alignments in existence, they care about it more then on a society affecting scale than an individual affecting scale, “conservative” cherubs might say things like “but if more creation x creation pairs breed than other pairs, creation as an alignment will dominate and destruction as an alignment will cease to exist in all of cherub society, there needs to be a balance of all alignments and the best way to do that is to preserve opposite alignment pairs only” and same alignment pairs are looked down upon purely because they throw the rest of society’s alignment pairs out of balance

 of course the counter-argument is that there are just as many destruction x destruction pairs as creation x creation pairs so society wise it should even out anyway, as well as other facts affect that such as do destruction children tend to dominate their headmates more often than not? so even different alignment pairs’ children can cause an alignment imbalance in society. I imagine there are many nuances to this debate in cherub society, but by and far the most common default way is opposing alignment pairs being generally understood as individuals making sure society stays balanced on their own, rather than individuals relying on society to balance itself out, very heated debates about which is the correct way all around. 

cherub society is very paradoxically individuals all out for themselves and helping nobody versus group efforts to take care of things individuals push onto others to deal with like offspring

But I can see these hatcheries being run by adult cherub group teachers, like theyre the equivalent of boarding schools. Young Cherubs are born there, learn there, socialized there and eventually as adults grow out of there, you don’t have a same grade, but rather a same generation, and your common purpose of being there together, or your common goal, is to be educated

*EDIT* MORE

At first i thought because Switching with your headmate every day is such a widespread occurence, that cherub society might have some allowances for that, like regulating switching times

but then I realized headmates are fundamentally cherubs first competition, the idea isn’t to share headspace equally, but to be the one to dominate over the other in maturity

more time spent being you is more time and effort put into your skills, aka “you” as in your own identity as a cherub

“winning” that milestone and dominating your headmate is seen as formally entering society as a mature cherub, kinda like a bar/bat mitsvah? i guess? because your alignment has been solidified, so you officially “count” as a citizen of that alignment for census/demographic purposes

i remember a tweet convo hussie had saying something like cherub birthdays are very depressing events, so im gonna take that and tweak it slightly so that a Cherub Bar Mitsvah/Domination Day is a recognition of excellence of the one who dominated, as well as a de facto funeral for the one who “died” effectively

and their age/birthday starts counting up from that day. so effectively, cherub “birthdays” can be depressing events, as a potential cherub was still lost on that day (sad by society terms anyways, the cherub in question probably doesnt feel much love lost in their headmate during celebration day, though its canon they do feel an aching loneliness from it) You celebrate your domination anniversary like humans would a birthday, and your number of them celebrated counts as your age

but for cherubs, “age” means “how many year equivalents have you been an adult” (remember Caliborn in canon dominated pre maturely via unnatural sburb means, hes a child in adult pants essentially. normal cherubs dominate upon reaching maturity as noted by Aranea) and essentially cherub “children” are ageless, and age for adults is less a reminder of time spent while alive, and more like a competition, again, a numbered marker of dominance, someone with a higher “age” than you is someone with more experience being an adult citizen than you

but since cherubs tend to mature/dominate at the same rates and ages anyway, its within the same margin of error as with humans ages matching up with actual time spent alive

as for parties in general, I imagine that celebratory ones are competitions where the person being celebrated is placed in the greatest position of power, the judge of whatever competition is taking place. with the type of competition in polite society being one that the celebrated cherub is a fan of, not just because they like rooting for those kinds of competitions, but also because its a bit of a social faux pas to force, say, a cherub chef to present an award acknowledging that another chef is a great chef, on a day that they are supposed to celebrate how great of a chef the judge/celebrated chef is. Like forcing them to watch a competition that directly involves their skills and identities, and not being able to win it, and to put salt in the wound, force them to present an award acknowledging the skills of almost definitely a rival of theirs, almost underhandedly forcing a cherub to admit superiority of someone else in their supposed “skill” on this, the day of their skills being supposedly the great one

and a competiton that a cherub is already a fan of, is one they have already acknowledged they dont have any skill in and thats okay, they decided they didnt need that skill for their identity, so it’s “safe” (a boring/other kind of bad party would be a chef cherub judging the best swimmer when he doesnt particularly cheer for swimming nor participate in it)

so yeah anything that can be celebrated, is usually celebrated in this way

national holidays are just annual/seasonal regula scheduled skill competitions of varying types, like the first snow day of winter being traditional for snow based competition days, or the first rain of autumn for water based sports like swimming or boating etc stuff like that for local holidays. general Olympic type larger competitions that are the same day every year for more national holidays

Can’t decide if cherub weddings is just a competitions with both as judges (with roles like best man for tie breaker) or ultra special competition between the two with the social idea of the “loser” most likely being the one to lay the egg like how humans catch the bouquet to be like oh ho ho ur getting married next n “best man” being the judge judge instead of the tie breaker judge (in more animalistic times this was more a rule than an idea obvs but cherub society is evolved on par with human society)

maybe both?? like the competition between the spouses is like, the equivalent of the “racy” wedding games humans play like get the garter during the afterparty

what the heck do wedding vows look like?? swearing your eternal rivalry??? catching the single ring/object the priest throws up in the air like catching a snitch to seal the deal? playful irritated longmarried spouses constantly stealing the wedding ring/item back and forth between eachother as their symbol of their eternal rivalry

[ncmagroup]

Written by Scott Tousley

No one wants to procrastinate. No one wants to feel stressed. No one wants to face distractions every day.

But we do. Myself included.

But what about the most successful people in the world? How do they stay sane? Surely, they must face distractions every day. What are the habits that keep them focused? That’s the exact question we set out to discover:

What are the productivity habits behind the world’s top CEOs, entrepreneurs, and innovators?

Diving deep into the minds of highly-successful people, we wanted to find out:

How do they stay focused and overcome productivity killers?

How do they maximize the amount of energy they have throughout the day, without overly relying on caffeine?

How do they avoid procrastinating difficult, mentally-challenging tasks?

After hours upon hours of research, we uncovered some fascinating trends.

I’ve personally adopted a few of these habits and I’ve found myself working exponentially faster, crushing my goals, and sustaining more energy throughout the day.

Want the same results? Here are 13 habits to experiment with, common among hyper-productive people:

Habit 1: They take breaks throughout the day.

Research validates that brief breaks from a task dramatically improves one’s focus and productivity. Why?

Well, our biological clock ticks in two forms: 

Circadian Rhythms

Ultradian Rhythms

Our Circadian Rhythms – which run in 24-hour periods – are our body’s natural release of melatonin, dictating when we’re energized or exhausted. Here’s what it looks like:

Our Ultradian Rhythms, which run in 90-minute periods, are the ebbs and flows of energy throughout the day.

For example, we can be “in the zone” for 90 minutes, but after that, we’ll feel a little tired and need to recharge. That’s our body’s natural Ultradian Rhythms kicking in, which look like this:

Highly-productive people understand that managing their energy is as important as managing their time.  

And the “Pomodoro Technique” is an efficient way to start putting this into practice …

Action Step: Try the Pomodoro Technique

To sustain energy throughout the day, try the Pomodoro Technique. Work in 25-minute intervals then takes a 5-minute break. It looks like this:

  Habit 2: They work backward from the future.

Steve Jobs once said:

If today was the last day of my life, would I want to do what I’m about to do today?

Steve Jobs    

If too many days passed by with the answer being “no,” he’d adjust his lifestyle until he hit a consistent yes (which eventually created a company worth $702 billion). This forced Steve to:

1. define long-term goals

2. stay motivated 

Highly-productive people think about the end of their lives. They define how they want to be remembered. What legacy they want to leave. Or what people will say about them at their funerals. 

Then work backward to achieve those goals. 

This touches on the psychological theories and models of motivation. If we’re driven by a purpose, we’re more likely to work extra hard. As an award-winning author, Simon Sinek, says:

  People don’t buy what you do; they buy why you do it.

Simon Sinek   

Highly-productive people start by defining their purpose, or their “personal mission statement.”

Defining their mission creates long-term goals. Long-term goals create smaller goals. Smaller goals create to-do lists.

Thus, it all starts with defining our purpose. What is yours?

Action Step: Define Your Personal Mission Statement

Writing a personal mission statement requires introspection. Asking yourself:

  What am I actually passionate about? (Lifehack alert: To find what you’re passionate about, ask yourself, “If all jobs paid the same, what would I do for work?”)

  What can I do better than most people, or comes easier for me than others?

  What do I want people to say about me at my funeral?

  Habit 3: They create a to-do list sub-deadlines the night before.

Highly-productive people all possess a similar trait: They narrowly focus on their MITs (Most Important Tasks). There are two effective methods for this:

1.  Writing a to-do list the night before.

2. Putting sub-deadlines on the most important task.

For example, let’s say the most important task is getting a 10-slide presentation deck finalized. A highly-productive person would create sub-deadlines for that task the night before, which looks like this:

  9:00 – 10:00 am: outline the presentation

  10:00 – 11:30 am: write copy for the presentation

  11:30 – 12:30 pm: create all images for the presentation

  12:30 pm: lunch w/ Jack

Creating sub-deadlines forces the person to abide by Parkinson’s Law. This essentially means if something is due at the last minute, it only takes a minute to do.   

Action Step: Write Your To-Do List At Night

Plan your entire day the night before.

Step 1: Define your most important task.

Step 2: Break that into smaller sub-tasks.

Step 3: Create deadlines for each smaller sub-task.

This forces you to abide by tighter deadlines and be realistic about what you can accomplish.

Habit 4: They leverage tools to prevent internal distractions.

Sure, it’s easy to plan our days, but distractions happen. And they come in two forms: 

1. Distractions from ourselves

2. Distractions from other people

Often times the biggest distractions come from within. We think of something, then Google it. We check Facebook, Twitter, or some other website. Or we start flipping through other addicting smartphone apps.

Highly-productive people remove internal distractions by:

Downloading website-blocking apps, such as StayFocusd, to limit the time spent on certain websites (ex. Facebook)

Shutting off Wi-Fi when working on MITs (most important tasks).

  “Burying” distracting apps on the last page of their phones.

Isolating themselves with a fully-charged laptop, then racing against the life of their battery to finish their main task (aka a Dead Battery Sprint).

All three drastically reduce distractions. But what about distractions from others?

Action Step: Save Yourself From Distracting Yourself

Stop internal distractions by following these steps:

Step 1: StayFocusd to stop procrastinating on Facebook, Twitter, etc.

Step 2: Bury distracting apps on the last page of your phone

Step 3: Shut off your Wi-Fi to remove any potential “Black Hole Browsing”

Habit 5: They keep a separate to-do list for daily distractions.

How do highly-productive people stay focused in the midst of emails, phone calls, chat messages, text messages, and requests from others?

They keep a separate to-do list for daily distractions.

For example, if a coworker asks them to review their sales presentation slides, they’d respond with something like:

Re: Can you look at this?

Hey (name),

No problem, happy to help.

I’m on a tight deadline right now, so would it be possible if I got back to you later today?

Nine out of ten times the responses will be:

“Sure! No problem. Take your time.” 

Then this request is logged on a separate to-do list, which is completed after the day’s most important task:

  Dwight Eisenhower has a beautiful quote on this:

  What’s important is not always urgent. And what’s urgent is not always important.

Dwight Eisenhower  

Highly-productive people don’t let daily distractions pull them from their long-term goals.

A helpful tool for defining these distractions is the Eisenhower Matrix, which helps clarify important versus urgent tasks. Here are a few examples:

Action Step: Define Your Eisenhower Matrix

What tasks are important to you? Which are not? What are frequent distractions? Write them down:

1. The tasks that have the greatest impact on my career are ______________.

2. The tasks I do often, but I don’t really benefit long-term career growth are  _________.

3. My most common day-to-day distractions are _____________.

Then figure out how you can outsource or delegate the tasks that have the least impact.

Habit 6: They use email tools/systems to optimize their inbox.

Email sucks.

It can feel like the Greek story of Sisyphus. Despite how determined we are to get to inbox zero, there’s always something new coming in. It can feel like we’re pushing a boulder up a hill:

  Email batching, the systematic approach of checking email in certain blocks throughout the day, helps keep email under control. But if it’s REALLY crazy, and you’re receiving hundreds of emails per day, SaneBox helps cut out the crap.

  SaneBox is used by highly-successful people in a variety of industries, such as Hiten Shah (CEO of KissMetrics), Tony Robbins (media personality), and Amy Hubbard (casting director of The Hobbit).

HubSpot Sales is another email productivity tool. It shows when someone opens an important email, allows scheduling of emails for later, and viewing contact profiles inside an inbox.

Sidekick is used by teams at major companies such as Oracle, Intuit, Moz, Wistia, Yelp, and more. 

Unroll.me is another fantastic tool. It lets you unsubscribe to multiple email lists at once:

Finally, learning email shortcuts can save up to 60 hours per year. There are email shortcuts for Gmail, Outlook, and Apple Mail. 

Action Step: Download Email Productivity Tools

Try email productivity tools such as:

  SaneBox for filtering out unimportant emails.

  Sidekick for seeing when someone opens an email (plus email scheduling and contact profiles).

  Unroll.me for mass-unsubscribing from newsletters.

These are the “big three” email productivity tools that an inbox much easier to manage.

Habit 7: They build an exercise and healthy eating into their daily routines to increase mental energy.

Brian Balfour, a successful entrepreneur, and investor views his brain as a muscle:

“Think of your brain as a muscle. Just like your arms or legs, your brain needs fuel to do work, exercise to get stronger, and rest to recover. Overall physical fitness is the foundation to mental energy. If you are eating terribly, overweight, and generally not fit, how do you expect your brain to be fit? Regarding our diet, there are certain foods that are healthy fuels, and certain foods that will make you feel cloudy and lethargic.”

Research proves exercise makes our brain alert, attentive, and able to focus better. It’s fuel for our brains, just like what we eat. For example, compare these two lunches:

  Eat the BBQ pulled pork and you’re in a post-lunch food coma. Eat the salad and you’re loading your body with rich nutrients, providing more energy than before.

Unhealthy lunches (ex. BBQ sandwich and french fries) spikes our blood sugar, which triggers an insulin spike, which triggers that groggy feeling.

And as we all know, it’s impossible to focus through a food coma.

Action Step: Create Healthy “Tiny Habits”

Stanford behavioral psychologist, Dr. BJ Fogg, encourages people to try “Tiny Habits.” These are small, easy-to-do actions which trigger long-term behavior change.

To exercise more: Start by running for just two minutes a day.

As you’re more comfortable, run for three minutes. Then four minutes. Increasing in tiny intervals until you’ve built running as a habit.

To eat healthier: Eat salad just on Wednesday for lunch. Eat unhealthy any other day.

The next week, eat salad for Wednesday and Friday. The week after that, eat salad for Monday, Wednesday, and Friday. Just keep increasing in tiny intervals until it’s adapted into your daily routine.

Habit 8: They optimize their computer skills for speed.

Highly productive people are lightning-fast on their computers. Here are a few ways they do it:

  They increase the speed of the mouse. We use our mouse every day, so why not make navigating our computers even faster?

  They learn keyboard shortcuts. Keyboard shortcuts for Google Chrome, Evernote, email, Google Docs, Mac navigation, Windows navigation … the list goes on and on. They’re a huge time saver.

  Using tools to find apps quickly. A favorite of entrepreneur Noah Kagan is a free tool called Alfred (for Mac). It helps quickly find programs we need to open.

  Increasing our type speed. Typing faster means getting work done faster. If you’re slower than 80 WPM, the average for computer-related workers, focus on increasing your speed.

These are just a few simple ways to increase the speed of your day-to-day life on a computer.

Action Step: Increase Your Speed

To increase the speed of your day-to-day on a computer, do the following:

1. Increase the speed of your mouse.

2. Take a few moments to think of the programs you use most. Email? Google Chrome? Excel? PowerPoint? Learn keyboard shortcuts for the programs you use most and you’ll save yourself hours of work per month.

3. Download Alfred (for Mac) or Launchy (for Windows) to never touch your Applications tab or Start menu again.

4. Take a typing test. If you’re slower than 80 WPM, take classes to get to at least80 WPM.

Keyboard shortcuts in email alone will save you up to 60 hours per year. Learn them for all your programs.

Habit 9: They view failure as learning opportunities. 

According to a Ph.D. psychologist, Carol Dweck, we have two possible mindsets:

1. a fixed mindset

2. a growth mindset

A fixed mindset assumes that our skills, qualities, and character are given.

It’s what causes people to say, “Oh, I’m just not a people person.” Or, “I’ve never been a good test taker.” So they accept defeat, viewing their skills and abilities as some sort of unchangeable, predetermined skill-set granted to them. They seek approval from others and view failure as failure.

A growth mindset, on the other hand, believes all skills and qualities may be learned.

If you suck at writing, you can learn to become a better writer. If you are terrible at sales, you can learn to be better. They thrive on challenges and view failure as a learning opportunity.

Here’s a beautiful illustration from Nigel Holmes on the differences between a fixed and growth mindset:

  Take a few moments to think about people in your lives with these two mindsets. Who gives up easily, admitting defeat? Who is always striving to learn something new?

But most importantly, which one are you?

Action Step: Self-Reflection Time

Ask yourself if you’ve ever said the following:

I could never thrive in sales. I’m just not a people person. 

I’ll never be good at public speaking. I just get nervous, start sweating, and feel uncomfortable. 

I’ve always been a terrible writer. I’ve just accepted the fact I’ll always be bad. 

If so, you may have a fixed mindset. Remind yourself that anything is learnable. Any skills, despite how much you may suck right now, is possible to learn.

For more on adopting your mindset, check out Carol Dweck’s book, Mindset: The New Psychology Of Success.

Habit 10: They outsource mindless tasks.

Insanely-productive people focus only on things they specialize in … then outsource the rest.

Need to do anything of the following?

  Mindlessly input data into a spreadsheet. Get a virtual assistant for $5-$10/hr from UpWork or FancyHands to help you.

  Do your laundry, clean your bedroom, and scrub the bathroom floor. Use a service such as Handy to outsource your housework.

  Pick up groceries from the store. Use Instacart to get groceries delivered to your door.

Highly productive people don’t think, “But this is so expensive! I’d rather save money and do it myself.” 

Rather, they consider their salary on a per-hour basis. For example, if someone makes $40/hr and they needed to complete 6 hours worth of chores, they could:

  Do it themselves for $240 ($40/hr x 6 hours).

  Pay someone else for $90. ($15/hr x 6 hours).

Outsourcing those chores now opens up 6 hours to make $40/hr by working, instead of cleaning.

In that period, the person can earn $240. Subtract the $90 from outsourcing it and this person saved $150 instead of doing the task himself! 

Considering tasks on a per-hour basis doesn’t only save time … it saves money.

Action Step: Identify Tasks To Outsource

Follow this three-step process:

Step 1: Identify what tasks you hate doing, but are easy to do. Spreadsheet data entry? Laundry? Picking up groceries?

Step 2: Find websites to outsource your work to them. Use UpWork orFancyHands  for virtual assistants. Handy for chores around the house. Instacart for grocery delivery. Fiverr for speciality projects for $5. Or try 99 Designs for design projects. If there’s something particular you’d like to outsource, not mentioned here, comment below and I’ll help identify a solution.

Step 3: Giving instructions takes time in itself. Use email templates to outsource your work to save up to 520 hours per year.

Habit 11: They meditate.

Some of the most respected people in the world practice meditation. This list includes: 

Mark Benioff, CEO of Salesforce

Arnold Schwarzenegger

Tim Ferriss, entrepreneur and author

Martin Scorsese, film director

Ray Dalio, hedge-fund manager

The list goes on and on.

Using fMRI scans, scientists can visualize the difference in our brains before and after meditation. Without getting too technical, meditation lets our brains slow down and stop processing information so quickly:

  It calms our frontal lobe (or prefrontal cortex), which is where logic and creativity comes from. This gives us a better focus, less anxiety, more creativity, more compassion, better memory, and less stress.

The advantages of meditation are endless, which is why so many successful people swear by it. 

Action Step: Download “Headspace”

Headspace is an iPhone and Android app that guides you through the basics of meditation, in 10 minutes per day.

I’ve tried plenty of other applications and methods, but I’ve found nothing better than Headspace to learn the basics and get started. All in just 10 minutes per day. Plus, it’s free.

Habit 12: They say no (nicely).

We’re psychologically hardwired to help people. There’s even a part in our brains, called the Right Supramarginal Gyrus, that triggers empathetic responses:

  Thus, saying “no” is surprisingly difficult.

We need a “to-don’t” list of things that won’t add to our careers. To make it easier to say no, try “no templates.” They were developed by Silicon Valley venture capitalist and angel investor, Mark Suster, which looks like this:

Re: 15 minutes of your time?

Hi (name),

Thank you for writing to me – it’s nice to hear from you (or meet you) via email.

Fortunately [my company] has started to take off in ways that I couldn’t have imagined just a short time ago. Unfortunately, that means I don’t have as much time as I used to have to take meetings with people.

I hope you’ll understand. I’m now under a lot of pressure from my board to deliver against some pretty ambitious goals. I do try to get to tech social events from time-to-time so I hope we can catch up there.

Hope you understand.

– Mark

We want to help. But to be productive, we have to learn when to say no and focus on our original goals.

Action Step: Save “No Templates” As a Canned Response

Follow these steps:

Step 1: Set up Google Canned Responses in Gmail or download TextExpander for Microsoft

Step 2: Create a “no template,” modeling your response off Mark Susters.

Step 3: Send the response when necessary.

Habit 13: They count their blessings and practice gratitude.

The final habit of highly-productive people is being grateful for what they have. Gratitude is proven to increase productivity by these prestigious universities:

Yale studies say a gratitude journal will result in higher alertness, enthusiasm, determination, attentiveness, and energy.

Harvard studies indicate gratitude improves health and strengthens relationships.

UC-Berkeley research indicates a gratitude journal improves sleep and decreases illness.

Columbia University research says gratitude improves the immune system while reducing anxiety and/or depression.

Research proves gratitude increases happiness, and happiness increases productivity. Thus, gratitude improves productivity:

Being grateful for what we have is one of the fastest ways to not only increase productivity but the overall quality of life.

Summary: 13 Habits of Insanely-Productive People

As a snapshot overview, here are the 13 habits of insanely-productive people:

1. They take frequent breaks to restore energy.

2. They’re driven by purpose.

3. They create their to-do list the night before (and break major tasks into sub-tasks).

4. They prevent internal distractions.

5. They keep a separate to-do list for external distractions.

6. They optimize their email with smart tools.

7. They build healthy habits into their daily routine.

8. They are lightning fast on the computer.

9. They have a “growth mindset.”

10. They outsource mindless tasks.

11. They meditate.

12. They say no (nicely).

13. They count their blessings.

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The 13 Habits Of Hyper-Productive People Written by Scott Tousley No one wants to procrastinate. No one wants to feel stressed. No one