writing-without-time

[writing-without-time]

i’m mod akane on this blog! i hope you guys enjoy this!

[Sonia Nevermind, Ibuki Mioda] x reader makeout - headcanons

Request: Sonia and/or Ibuki makeout headcannons?

First request I’ve taken! I wrote with gender neutral terms, anyone can read! I hope you enjoy this! It was fun to write. - Mod Akane

WARNINGS: PG-13, slightly sexual scenarios.

Keep reading

[writing-without-time]

if you can't handle a heart like mine

don't waste your time with me.

read it on ao3

this is peak canon divergence me complaining about minor in game things but make it fluff while i did it

More often than not, Bonnie found herself at the heart of Slumbering Weald.

A beautiful area that was so quiet, so serene, so perfect to just sort out your thoughts. A lot of the time, Bonnie had ran into Hop sitting by the water, contemplating random problems. But today she was alone, as she sat on top of the tombstone belonging to heros. She had come here to think. Not really to solve a problem, no, there's no solving her issue, just to think about it. Calm down, maybe. She breathed deep as she clung her cape close briefly, before letting it drop on the ground behind her. Hopefully Zacian wouldn't mind.

Bonnie was stuck thinking about her adventure. What lead her to now. Not just the adventure itself, and for once, not about Hop, and the shared nights, and camping together under the wild area night sky, and battling together and against each other... She shook the thought from her head. Not the problem right now. She figured she'd have a fucking relationship crisis, 'oh no, i like my childhood best friend!' bullshit later. What bothered her was a common occurrence that also stood out beyond everything. It was this habit her friends way older than her had.

It happened alot. She could recall a few select times: Outside of Spikemuth, when the dynamaxing started happening, when Hop and her had found Lee and Chairman Rose at the top of Rose Tower, and a few other instances that passed through her mind. She was told the same thing, every single time: "Don't worry, let the adults handle this."

She hated it.

She didn't like to admit it, but Bonnie grew up young. She had to. And so it got under her skin, and in a more "adult" term, pissed her the fuck off, every time. She knew there was no hard feelings behind the statement, she and Hop were only sixteen. She supposed some people would still consider that young. She pondered though, how much bullshit would we have avoided if we just let Bonnie and Hop help out for like, 10 fucking seconds? Probably a lot.

When she had left Rose Tower, she had knew, oh she was aware that Chairman Rose would entirely fuck up her match with Lee, but she hadn't told anyone. But look who was right? It was her. She always knew something was wrong, and that Leon and Sonia and all the others couldn't handle it without Hop and her- as conceited as it sounds- but she would be dismissed because she was a kid.

She supposed, in theory, it was nothing to seethe in rage over. One, it was all over now, and two, she had long proved she is more than just a kid. Hell, she's the fucking champion! But it still got under her skin, bothered her. It made the depths of her soul question: Was she ever good enough? Did she still have to prove herself? Is she still just a silly little kid? She sighed, frustrated as ever as she looked to the setting sun and began to hum. Humming and singing helped clear her mind, as she began to sing a song where she couldn't remember where it came from, hands running through her hair as she tried to relax herself.

"..and cut a rug with orphaned girls, now memories are blurred, and their faces are blurred, but I still know the words to this song-" She sings softly, sounding awfully louder than she was in the quiet area.

"I haven't heard you sing in a long time." Hop laughs, causing Bonnie to literally shriek as she falls backwards off the tomb she sat on, only to be caught as she falls back into Hop's chest. "Woah! It's just me." He laughs, shit eating grin on his face as Bonnie looks up at him.

"You're an asshole.." Bonnie mutters, ignoring the small smile that graced her own face while she stood up.

"What a role reversal." Hop laughs, ignoring the comment as he looks at Bonnie with his hands folded behind his head. "Aren't you usually the one running into me?"

Bonnie rolls her eyes. "Not my fault you're late to your scheduled therapy appointment." She snickers, which causes Hop to laugh as well.

"Well, what has you out here?" Hop asks, picking up Bonnie's cape and throwing it around his own shoulders, something he jokingly did often. Bonnie liked it. He sits down where the cape once sat and invites her to join him.

"Just.. frustrated about stupid things." Bonnie sighs. "You?"

He shrugs. "Stressed, a bit." He laughs nervously. "Being a professor is hard. But I'm not giving up!" Hop smiles confidently.

"That's the spirit." Bonnie smiles, messing with his dark purple hair, causing him to swat her hand away, and she laughs as he fixes his hair.

"What's got you frustrated?" Hop asks as their laughter dies down, turning to Bonnie with a more serious tone.

Bonnie sighs. "Something about our..adventure, I guess."

"It's not something I did, is it?" Hop looks worried.

"No, no no, not at all!" Bonnie rushes to clarify. "Quite the opposite, actually.. I just.." Bonnie runs a hand through her hair, effectively messing it up and making it look like shit. "Do you remember, how every time we tried to help Lee and Sonia with things, we were told to 'let the adults handle it'?"

"What do you mean?" Hop asks, tilting his head slightly in an adorable way.

Bonnie thinks of the most easy to remember instance. "Back in the Rose Tower, when we found Lee talking to Chairman Rose." She lists, careful to not bring up their shared kiss, Arceus forbid she decides to have a crisis about that. "When we left with Lee, he just told us not to worry about what we heard. And...well, that went great." She rolls her eyes.

"I.. suppose you're right.."Hop says, seeming to recall the moment Rose had made a bitter remark- 'there are times when adults just cant seem to have an honest discussion with each other. sometimes our pride gets in the way.'

"It just- it's been bothering me. So much shit could've been avoided if someone just listened to us. It felt like we had to run 20 miles and more just to prove we're not just little kids." Bonnie sighs, letting her head roll back and hit the concrete behind her.

"Yeah, I suppose." Hop says, turning to Bonnie. "But that's part of the glory of it. We went from just random kids from a farmer town, and look at us now! Heck, you're the champion!" Hop cheers, only bringing a small smile to Bonnie's face.

"And what about you?" She asks. She had a solid answer to that one. He was her entire world. But she wanted to see his answer.

Hop hesitates. "I-I'm.." He breathes in. "I'm gonna be the best damn professor in all of Galar." He grins confidently.

"Hell yeah." Bon smiles, letting her head rest on Hop's shoulder as she observes the sun has already gone all the way down, and they were now greeted by the stars.

"You're the best champion in all of Galar, Bre." Hop says, quietly. Bon halts. Bre was her real name. She didn't use it much anymore. Not after she moved out of Kalos. Hop was the only one who knew her real name, and he didn't use it a lot. She didn't trust a lot of people to know her real name, cause what was the point? It didn't mean anything good to her. But it meant something good, that through everything, even when her name poured out of his lips, she wouldn't flinch, just for once, and it wouldn't be a reminder of her horrible story.

"..Thank you, Hop.." She sighs, letting her head rest again. Hop lets his own head rest on top of hers, and they're warm and quiet as they watch the sky turn. It's a comfortable silence until Hop breaks it.

"Bon." He calls.

"Yes, Hop?" She asks, quietly.

He hesitates for a couple beats, his face turning as red as it can. "Do you.. you.. I-" He struggles.

"Take your time." Bon laughs softly. He rolls his eyes as he and Bon both pick up their heads to look at each other.

He waits a few more seconds, and she nearly see the gears turning in his head. "You.. Do you know I.. I love you..?" He asks, almost afraid of the answer.

Bon hesitates before nodding her head. Hop holds his breath, waiting for another response. "You should know I love you too, you dense playboy." She grins cheekily, sticking her tongue out briefly. Hop lets go of his breath, if only to laugh before pouting at the nickname. The laughter dies down as their eyes meet and stay there, Hop slowly letting one of his hands cup Bon's cheek. She leans into the touch, seemingly holding her breath as she does, and the two inch closer. And it's a painful amount of time before their lips finally meet, a soft and sweet kiss, leaving the taste of each other on the other's tongue. They pull away slowly, wishing they could stay like that for an eternity, before they let go of each other, and continuing to huddle close against the stone, watching the sky as Bonnie drifted off, and Hop didn't seem to mind.

"Hey, Bon?" Hop asks, again.

"Mh?" She hums, too tired to even open her eyes anymore.

"I like your singing.. you should do it more.." He blushes as he trails off, getting even quieter. She nods, and it's a few beats of silence before she starts humming. Bonnie hadn't sang to hop in a long time, not since they were camping together in the wild area. She had sang to him because as childish as it sounded, he had a nightmare about hurting someone he loved, and it freaked him out, and her singing helped him fall back asleep.

As they both drift off holding each other close, they found comfort in the other, and knew that this was where they would feel okay, and where they could always go for comfort. Into each other's arms.

[writing-without-time]

memento mori

memento mori. a latin phrase, meaning “remember you will die.”

imagine impulsively hosting a game of mafia with @crispy-saur @resident-of-the-mind-palace @theonlyrealerin and @tentenrightsactivist then you get so into the story you made Erin starts drawing it and you and Ash start writing it oh wait

A murder runs rampant in Meteora. That’s the one thing anyone is certain of. Of course, all Mariam is certain of is protecting her wife and kids, and Ash is concerned for Erin, and Lima is concerned about how she’s gonna protect everyone. Bre’s only worried for her mother and siblings, and Erin.. Erin’s been quiet,  lately. 

It’s a fine evening, but clouded by the worry and town’s incredibly low morale. Erin, Ash, and Mariam sit together at a cafe, an outdoor table. Mariam drinking tea like no tomorrow, and Erin staring worriedly at the sky. But then she looks back down to see Mariam finishing off another cup of tea.

“That’s like, your fifth one.” Erin comments. 

Mariam sighs as she sets the cup down. “I know.. I’m just so worried! My family is here…” She stares down into the cup quietly. “There’s a murderer in our home..” Erin winces. 

“I understand your concern, Mar.” Ash says, setting a hand on her shoulder. “Rest assured, I’m getting to the bottom of this. Tonight..you don’t mind if I borrow Bre to help me out a bit, do ya?” 

“But…” Mar frets. “...I suppose, it’s part of her duty. Okay.” She sighs as Ash removes his hand from her shoulder.

Erin looks back up at the sky. “I’m worried...there’s a big storm coming.” Ash and Mariam also glance up, and find the storm clouds above them to be a dark, dark grey. 

“It’ll be alright, I’m sure.” Ash says. “Storms happen all the time. We might wanna get heading back though.. Start pouring any second now.” He stands from his chair. Erin and Mariam follow suit, though Erin reluctantly. 

“I suppose you’re right..” Erin sighs.

“Get some sleep, okay?” Ash says. “You’ve been off lately.” Erin nods as Ash turns to Mariam. “And go spend some time with your wife. It’ll all be over soon.” Mariam nods as well. 

The three bid farewell and part ways to their homes.  

.

In the night, Mariam shoots awake in her bed, frightened by a nightmare, one of her poor wife crying over her corpse. In a shaken, panicked state she writes a letter to her wife, and leaves it on the kitchen counter. She leaves her house, yet her vision is clouded by tears. So clouded by tears, she doesn’t notice the car heading towards her as she crosses the road. Nor the oh-so familiar driver, and she only notices when she is hit, but then her body is thrown over the hood and tumbles over the back side of the car. And she’s left there, rasping for breath in the road as the vehicle speeds away. 

“Kenzie…” She breathes. Then the world turns a bit darker than she had ever known.

Across town, Ash and Bre sat in a different car, headed towards Erin’s house.

“Are you sure we should investigate?” Ash asks, hands at firm, tense and uncomfortable ten and two at the wheel. 

“Yes.” Bre sighs. “Don’t be biased. You’re gonna risk an investigation because you like Erin, or something? Eliminate her as a suspect now, and it’s fine and over with.” She sets her head against the window, any sight two feet past the car a bit hard to see due to all the raindrops. That storm had long passed but the rain persisted.  Ash doesn’t respond, and keeps quiet even as the car parks and the doors slam as they leave in front of Erin’s house. 

She isn’t home, that’s clear evidenced by her car being gone. Yet the lights are on and the door is swinging open in the wind… odd. “Don’t tell me..” Ash breathes.

Bre elbows him. “Erin’s strong. I doubt it.” She walks in unafraid as Ash follows, and heads to the kitchen, where on a counter, her and Ash both find a single, bloodied kitchen knife. The sink mirrors it, seemingly stained orange from the countless and countless washes. 

“...Well, fuck.” Bre sighs. 

“..No.” Ash says simply. “This is planted. Obviously, see? The door was open.. And she’s not home..” Ash runs a hand through his hair. 

Bre sighs, and mutters something along the lines of ‘clouded mind, foolish man.’ “...If you’re gonna insist. But I’m telling you. Something is not right.”

“...Whatever. We’re getting out of here.” Ash says, walking out of the house briskly. Bre sighs and follows. 

.

You could say most of the town was woken not by a rooster, but a screaming woman, and any detective to rush to find out what the fuck woke him up at 7AM, would find Kenzie, now widowed, crying over her wife’s corpse. So of course, a memorial is held for Mariam as quickly as possibly, and Ash addresses the town with guilt on his back as he talks of how he will catch this murderer soon. But Meteora was such a small town, turned so small it was more like five people and three cats at this point. And the day goes by, silent and quiet, the sky still raining down. Crying, maybe, just like Mariam’s daughters, sons, wife and friends. And it’s a slow, dreadfully long day until nightfall. 

And when night comes, Doctor Lima stands in her home, eyes rolling along the childhood photos that lined her home as she walked through it. She had chosen to go and protect someone, maybe Erin tonight, start putting a stop to this fucking maddness if Ash won’t. But as she observes the pictures of her infancy she feels the hair on her neck stand. And she turns to find nothing, but the paranoia screams in her ears. 

“Maybe I should just go to bed.” She tells herself, walking into her bedroom where in it a picture of her abroad lover stood on a night stand. And in the reflection she saw not only a doctor. A strong willed girl with a fuckin’ PhD, but behind that a murderer. And as she spins to confront them, she’s grabbed and her neck is slashed. Maybe not slashed elegantly, or in the most effective way..but surely she would die soon. And she hits the floor as spots appear in her vision and her friend and foe walks away. 

“Erin…” She rasps, everything around her slowly starting to fade.

And Lima thinks she’s dead, but she hears footsteps. Two sets of them, coming back after who knows how much time has passed. And she can’t really make anything out, it’s all blurry and fading, so all she can do is rasp Erin’s name once more as she slips away. Now gone into whatever afterlife the doctor believed in.

“Holy shit.” Ash says, looking down at the doctor who just passed in front of him. 

Bre sighs. “Look who was right. Now what are you gonna do? She’s got over 5 or 6 people on her hands.” 

Ash sighs. And a tear hits the ground before he mutters, “We have to execute her.”

.

The next time Ash and Erin see each other is long after a brief, unprofessional town trial. Almost unfair when the whole town wants someone to blame. But the next time Ash relives his realization, his grief, he learns all over again someone he loves murdered his friends, is when he stares Erin in the eye, Erin standing at the gallows.

Erin dons white clothing, almost pathetically loose and doesn’t even fight against the rope that binds her hands together behind her backs. She knows she’s caught. It’s too late. Distraught and shame overcame Ash as Erin stared at the floor that would soon collapse under her feet. 

“Before your town, your lover, and your god, do you have any final words?” Bre asks her, no effort to hide how repulsed she is by the person who murdered her mother and friends. 

Erin raises her head to look at Ash, who stood closer to the platform than anyone else. “Ash..I love you. Always. I did this for you.” She smiles bitterly as tears trace her cheeks. And Ash is forced to watch as Bre cranks back the lever with all the might in her body, the floor drops, and Erin’s neck gives a loud, horrid snap that makes Ash wince. 

Bre is unphased, muttering a simple “Mors tua, vita mea” Your death, my life.

Ash feels the tears that trail his skin, and his shaking hands as he watches his lover dangle by a snapped neck and piece of rope. But he feels numb, cold, almost dead himself as his lover sat pale. Those left of the town scream in joy at the sight, yet all Ash can find himself to do is mutter a simple, “Aeternum vale.”

Forever farwell.

[writing-without-time]

but icicles don’t soften when they die

more panic attack stuff. tw for subtle mentions of sexual harassment, self harm, and general just depression. the sorts.

this was the first time i tried to describe my twitches/ticcing(?) in writing. it feels weird. maybe it’s cus i dont know why i do it. but i dont know how to feel about how i wrote it. like i didnt do it justice, maybe

the second i shoot awake i forget what the dream was about. the nightmare. but i remember the fear. 

the fear, the hate, the self-disgust, the looking-a-monstrosity-dead-in-the-eye-only-to-realize-you're-looking-in-a-reflection. the unwanted hands that traced my body, the kicking and screaming, the smashing of glass and the argumentative screams drowned by fruitless music. the blood, the blood, the knives, the bruises, all of it comes and screams as loud as it can in my ears, shadows dancing my dark room to terrify me until the screaming of my phone next to me briefly settles it. 

shakily and blindly, vision blurred due to tears and a lack of glasses, the brightness of the screen burns my retinas as i shakily enter my password, the twitter notification is cast away in my brain and i look for my contacts. shaking like an earthquake of an unbelievable magnitude, i hold the phone to my ear and i hear the dialing tone echo in my ear. 

"please pick up...please...pick up..." i whisper, voice so quiet it cuts and fades like radio static. finally, it clicks, and i hear his voice. 

"luv..?" he asks, groggy and his voice low. "what's up? 's like...3am..." he mutters. hearing his voice helps a bit. i realize i barely slept 20 minutes. 

"c-can.. you.."i breathe. "please. c-come..over." i sob. 

"luv?" he asks with a bit of urgency in his voice, more awake now. "what's wrong?" "i..just.." i struggle. lungs fight against me and voice breaks. "please.. nightmare.." i mutter. 

"i'll be ova' soon. don't worry, luv." he says, and i nod to no one as i hear him hang up and the phone leaves my hand, hitting my mattress with a solid sound. my hands crawl up and try to rip out my hair as i cry, rocking back and fourth pathetically. my thoughts are a screaming spiral, a party gone south with no one to clear the noise. a chaotic symphony. one of nothing. a symphony of nothing. one of weakness. anxiety. pain. fear, sadness.

shadows dance at my wall, my floor, my ceiling and they laugh at me. she laughs at me. he laughs at me, dangling what he ripped of my dignity in my face as i feel the phantom of his hands tracing my waist. the phantom feeling makes me scream, and once i start i don’t stop. i start to twitch, violent jolts and cries and yelps as i try to stop and cant. everything bothers. my hair. my skin. the air. the tears left on my face i’m unable to brush away drive me to the brink of fucking insanity as my fear, my depression, it swallows me whole and drowns me. the sound of my apartment door unlocking and opening doesn't phase me. i don't register it. i don't until i hear him open the door for my room. 

"luv!" he shouts, coming to my side, clambering up on the bed as i twitch and shriek, sobs interrupting that of my violent and hideous twitches. i don't remember the last time he saw me like this. a mess. he pulls me close and i bury my face in his chest. it muffles the tics, the small yelps that come with them. he slips the hair tie off my dresser and ties my hair back in a pathetically short ponytail. 

"it's okay.." he tells me. "aye have ya. no one can get past me." he smiles at me as he holds me close and i cry. i feel his hand rub my back as i cry. his voice soothes some of it, the shadows screaming in my ear dissipating. when i start to quiet down, the only occasional noise a remaining sob or yelp, i hear his voice. melodic as he starts to sing a song i love. 

"i woke up last night froma dream.." he begins, petting my hair as he pulls me from his chest gently, guiding me to look into his eyes. "that we'd grow old on bleecker street. sit by tha' fire and play my guitar.." 

i smile up at him, hesitating as i find the words. "but dreams..are only..dreams." my own singing is broken and a bit all over the place. 

"and then, i wonder when we leave, will tha' moon still be white, and tha river green?" i hum to his voice for a second before i remember the next line slowly.

"sometimes i wonder.. if we matter at all." i breathe in a harmony. "if we're not written down, who... who will remember now?" i look at him for approval. he grins and pulls me close again, his forehead rested against mine this time. 

"yer okay, luv." he tells me quietly. "ye will be okay." he sets his hands on my shoulders. "i kno' it's hard. and it'll get harder. but i'm 'ere. and i'll help ye. i'll protec' ye. we'll grow old on bleecker street." 

i laugh as i wipe my eyes. "you're just saying that because i love that band."

"maybe." he smiles. "but they make ye happy." 

"you do too, you know." 

he smiles, taking my hand and guiding it to rest against his cheek. "sure hope so." 

"do you mind staying with me the rest of the night..?" i ask, looking down, anticipating him to say no. he pulls me closer to his body, heat radiating off of him as he plants a kiss on my nose. 

"i don' mind." he grins as he lays down and pulls me with. i land on his chest with a small 'oof.' 

"..thank you." i mutter, wanting to cry again but this time because i'm happy. and i love him so much. 

"it's nothin'" he says as he runs his hands through my hair, the hairtie falling out and landing somewhere in my bed. 

"...i love you." i breathe, clinging to him and his warmth. his love, his happiness. 

"i luv ye too, luv." he says as he pulls me closer and i drift away exhausted, his words a symphony of everything i’ve ever wanted that lulls me to sleep.

[writing-without-time]

give me one last kiss while we’re far too young to die.

a drabble about suicide meshed with a superhero blush blush au. trigger warning for attempted suicide.

it's on a night like this i learn i love the city all over again. the loud noises of night traffic echo below me, but when you're this high up they start to fade away. the higher i am, the more the breeze plays with my hair and the lights cloud the horizon line as far as i can see. it's almost calming. sometimes, when you listen to the music loud enough, it starts to feel quiet. in the back of your head, buzzing but never prominent.  sometimes i think that's how everything works in my head. everything will blur into the back of my mind. 

 "ain't ye a bit nervous sittin' on the edge like that?" he asks me as i look up. cursed boy with super powers. now that's something loud screaming in my head. he floats in the air, like a ginger superman if he was a rip off of a certain mobile game i'm tired of spending money on for hourglasses. 

i laugh. "i stopped getting scared a long time ago." i look down at my legs, which hang over the building carelessly. so tall for an apartment building. it's a long drop. he looks worried as he observes the drop as well. 

"...what's kept ye up here?" 

"isn't it funny, you can see the stars so much clearly up here?" i ask him, staring up at the sky. "from the ground they're so blurry. but here...here was the first place i ever saw a constellation." 

 "luv..." he sighs. 

 "y'know, my star sign is a gemini." i ramble. "i remember when people would always call me a two-faced bitch." i laugh. 

"luv." he calls for my attention a tad more sternly as i look back down to him. where his glasses would usually stay is a cheezy super hero mask, colored orange,  only covering the area around his eyes. the breeze sweeps his hair to the side as well as concern laces his eyes. "why're ye up here?" 

i hesitate. "...guilt." i sigh, my eyes turning back to my swinging legs. if only if i were as brave as him. or ichiban. maybe dimitri, or volks. 

"of what?" he asks. i look up at him. do i have to spell it out? my arms hug myself as i struggle to keep eye contact.

"..everything." i sigh. "i don't necessarily think you always had superpowers, lemur ears and a tail. until i was a fucking idiot." he rolls his eyes. 

"ye should be more concerned the zoo had tha' water to give em' to me." he cracks a joke. it's hard to laugh. my hands grasp the edge of the building as i let myself go. 

 "don't you hate this? the powers? the lemur thing?" 

i hesitate. "...me?" 

 he looks sorrowful. "luv.." 

he raises his hand up and i flinch.  he doesn't hit me though, unlike what everything of my past screams. his hand cups my cheek as he guides me to look back up to him. blue eyes reflecting my own watery ones. 

"i couldn't eva' hate ya." 

i laugh, bitterly. "my life feels like a shitty movie. 15% on rotten tomatoes and all." 

"if it was, it wouldn't end like..this." he tells me. he looks sad as my hands grasp the building harder. if i could just.. slip away. 

 i laugh. "ever seen loving vincent?" 

"he didn' kill 'em self." 

"of course you'd know that, ya fuckin nerd." i laugh. 

 "ye can't laugh this away forevea'." he tells me. 

"i can try." 

"won't work." 

i sigh. tears cloud my vision and the lights blur. it's like when you were a kid and you woke up in the back of the car, all the lights huge and blurring like over sized sparkles. but they form in just a way that they outline his form.  my hand grips the edge of the building so hard it hurts and i don't even realize i'm pushing myself off until the building slips from beneath me and i hear him yell my name. and it hurts but i hope he doesn't try. i hope he lets me fall. but i fall into his arms. and it's a second for my vision to start to clear as i look up at him, slowly his face fades into vision as i see his eyes almost crying, brows knitted with fear and sadness. 

"ye gave me a heart attack." he sighs. "why?" 

"are you gonna set me down, or...?" i ask, held close to his body as if i were a bride. 

"no." he says flatly. 

"what am i, louis lane?" i laugh. 

"...can tell ye yer a lot prettier than 'er.”

i laugh, cause i'm not. i suppose i'm not in my eyes. 

that's the thing. perspective is weird. he thinks i'm beautiful. i look in the mirror in the mornings and i see a monstrosity. 

"she's a lot more put together than me." i tell him. 

"tha's okay." he tells me as we glide through the sky, close enough i could almost jump up and feel the storm clouds forming. "noneuv us expect ya ta' be." 

i look down, away from his face. all i can see when i look down is his chest and my own body, held like a fucking pathetic ragdoll in his arms, and it makes me cry more. the problem isn't that he's holding me so close, and radiates warmth and everything i've ever wanted. the problem is i acknowledge here i'm weak and powerless, a loud symphony of nothing. one that grinds and screeches and makes your ears hurt. makes you wish you were dead. 

"yer not weak." he tells me. i know he can't, but i feel like i gave him the power to read minds on accident as well. "yer dealin' wit so much. aye don't blame ye for any of this. none of us do. ye might be the strongest of all of us." 

"you're literally flying with me in your arms." i laugh. 

"an'? yer balancing all o' us and doing everything to keep us happy. ye've forgetten about yerself." he says, holding me close. "yer tha best thing..to ever happen ta' me." 

i'm to busy crying to argue, or fight, or do much else. all i mainly hear is my sobs ring out and the wind as i cling to him as hard as i can, apologizing profusely. he holds me close, and adjusts me so i'm wrapped around his torso as i cry into his shoulder. it's a minute before i feel us touch ground again. most likely on my apartment building again. when i slide off of him, i slide to my knees. he follows suit, admittedly a bit more elegantly than my pathetic collapse to the concrete. 

I sob again trying to find words. "i.. need you." i choke out. "to... to help me." i struggle, breath restrained and lungs fighting against me. he nods silently.

i look up at him. eyes filled with concern and love at the same time. i'm shaking so much it takes me a minute to reach up to him. when i finally do, in a vauge control of my limbs, i slowly take the mask off his face. it's a bit strange to see him without his glasses but i like it.

he pulls me close by the shoulders and hugs me, continuing to let me cry into his chest as he pets my hair. 

"i will, luv." he tells me as it dies down, my sobs quieter and fading, my breathing slowly steadying. 

"th-thank you.." i look up to him, eyes locked for a second split before i grab the collar of his shirt. "can i have a kiss, please?" 

he chuckles. "of course, luv." he smiles, leaning in close with both eyes closed until our lips meet. and for a minute, even a short one, things feel right.

when we pull away, he's silent only for a moment. 

"ye are my everythin'." he mutters.

i smile at him. 

a symphony of everything.

[writing-without-time]

does she know that my destiny lies with her?

a blush blush drabble about cold hands.

his hand brushes against mine. and for an odd reason i can't really make out, he flinches. did i do something wrong?

but then he turns to me. "let me see yer hands." he says, holding out his own. i turn to him confused. why? is it the bandages? did i do something? things are confusing and weird. you get so used to repetition then.. it stops. he sets his hands in mine. but then he pulls back. and he starts laughing and i'm confused.

"jesus, yer hands are fuckin' cold." he laughs as i look at my hands. i suppose i am a bit cold. i set my right hand on the back of my neck and even i cringe. fuck. i look back up at him and he's still laughing as i get the idea to reach my hands out to him. he can't stop as he starts to protest, "oh HELL nae!" but it's too late. i've already wrapped my hands around his neck, and i feel him shiver as he pulls me closer to him. so close our noses are touching.

"torture is outlawed by the geneva convention, ya prat." he laughs.

"i could do worse." i say, as i pull my hands from his neck. he rubs the back of his neck, and i'm not sure if it's cause i've rubbed ice cubes on it or because of what i've said.

"hm?" he hums. which, in my opinion, is full invitation to shove my hands up his shirt and make him suffer. and so i do, and his reaction time isn't fast enough to catch my wrists before they're up there. my palms lay against his chest, which is- i'll say it again- incredibly fucking toned for a hacker. his face goes bright red as he looks down at me, and it's really hard not to laugh.

"yer an asshole." he mutters breathlessly, which makes me laugh even more.

"you know you love me." i smile.

"yea, yea, ya cheezy twat." he rolls his eyes, but he's smiling. "sometimes. get yer hands out of my shirt." he reaches up and grabs my wrists gently but it's strong enough he drags my hands away from him, all while i'm laughing. he lets go and i go to shove my hands in the pocket of my hoodie when i remember for the fourth time i left it at home.

so that's why i'm cold. when i go to look up, i am promptly stopped by the weight of something big and soft falling over my shoulders. i look up at him and he's taken his jacket off, left in a black t-shirt that he's trying to fix since i tortured him. i realize he's thrown his jacket around my shoulders. i pull it closer to me, and it smells of vanilla and vaguely i can smell hand sanitizers. fuckin' germaphobe, i laugh to myself. i look up at him.

"what? didn't need yer hands to fall off." he laughs, but i can tell he's cold as well. i grab the edges of the jacket with my hands and hold out my arms. he raises a brow.

"you have the social cues of a spider." i roll my eyes and laugh.

"at least i pay rent." he grins as i rush him, warping the jacket around him with me in it. he makes a small 'o' sound, before he settles and lets his arms settle around my waist, his hands clasping together behind me as we stand close. i snuggle my head to his chest and for a moment that this fucker is taller than me. rude.

"i love you.." i mutter under my breath, into his chest.

there's a pause. "i luv ya too."

[writing-without-time]

a really bad vent about my body, sexual harassment and my experience with gender

this is poorly written.

i have to take a shower.

and i say okay to my mother, who i haven't told the whole story about whats going on in my head.

and i say i'll be back in 20 minutes to my sister, who only really understands i'm not entirely a woman anymore.

and then i sit there. water running as i coward outside

because it dawns on me that in a shower i can't hide behind tightly tied hairties and baggy clothing. i learn that in this realm i'm vunerable. everything i hate.

i learn here that i have to take my hair- unwashed for months- out of the tightly knit bun and apologize to it. because it cascades down my back, farther down than i'd like it to. freshly dyed and ignored. neglected.

i have to strip away the layers of folds and oversized garnments. i'm left vunerable staring at the things i hate.

i wish i had a binder.

because binders arent feminine. binders arent sexy.

binders arent lacey down the back- binders are not 35 minute struggles to get on my barely dry body because i cant stand to take the time to stand as hateful and vulnerable as ever to dry it.

binders arent the men who've ripped away my pride and identy's favorite thing to see.

binders aren't a gross fucking sexualization of a little kid's unfortunate genes.

in my haste to escape a realm dyed blue by the hair i haven't cared to wash the dye out of in months my clothes got wet.

which i hate.

because my clothes protect me.

i don't want to leave the room like this. i don't want anyone else to see me like this ever again. my old clothes are weeks old. short sleeved. almost as disgusting i am.

when i generally say i am disgusting to someone, they will tell me, "no you're not."

because they don't know i haven't washed my hair in week.

i mask my pain behind perfume and lotion.

i haven't washed my face in forever.

i haven't shaved in fucking forever.

people think i'm a germaphobe when i leave the house wearing masks and bandanas when really it masks how much i hate the face i watched get dressed in the mirror.

so then they ask me "how do you not have acne? what's your secret?"

they ask me "how is your body so perfect?"

because loosely fitting clothes and "lucky" genes hide a monstrosity. acne pads expired in 2013 and over priced lotions from bath and body works are my best friends and oversized hoodies and sweatpants are my lover.

when i'm in the locker room, and kelly is left telling kelsey and allison that im crying and shaking and can barely dress myself because the whistle blew too loud and sent me spiraling. because i passed out, hit the ground deprived of everything i need and no one gave a fuck. because kelly accidentally called our team weak and it spent me spiraling- remembering everyone who’s damaged me before and all the reasons why i am and i hate to admit it. because i hate my body, and i hate everything i look at when i wake up. 

allison doesn't say anything. because she thinks her struggle with being overweight is not the same as my struggle with wanting to slice away everything that society uses to defines me as "woman." i dont want to disagree with her because neither of us would know, because neither of us will tell the other what its like. neither of us will be in the other's shoes.

kelsey doesn't get it.

kelsey proceeds to tell me she doesnt get why. and shes cheerful as she tells me about my slim waist even when i tell her to shut up.

and she smiles as she tells me about my nice ass when i choke out a slightly louder "shut up,"

and she won't understand and close off and look at me disgusted until she starts to talk about the last thing left to mention. that every mans mentions. and she doesn't get to talk about them long before i tell her again, shut up, shut UP, SHUT UP.

and my teacher who has the gaul to walk to our corner of the locker room where almost none of us are dressed and i am still rushing to pack my bag as the bell screams in my ears, she will have the fucking balls to scream in my face "what is wrong? stop fucking lying to me." and her disgust will me shared when i tell her the only thing wrong is im late to my next class and storm off.

when my guy friends join me in the hallway, the boy who watched the second the whistle triggered me and sent me spiraling, he will ask me what's wrong as i run from him in a stuffed hallway and he will fall silent, dissapointed and complain to his friend. but i know when i tell him, when i have, he'll just tell me "i dont know how to help you, so.." and then change the subject.

because anyone else will brush it off, will instill the reaction in me to laugh it off as they do, they will laugh and crack jokes about the hands that trailed my body unwillingly and threatened my soul when i ripped them away before i can finish telling them what happened. they make me listen to their story, interrupting mine, to listen to a fucking lie she will revoke in a week.

so i laugh it off. i pretend its done nothing to me. and i tell myself im a dramatic piece of shit who makes everything out of hand, who cant shut the fuck up, because thats what they tell me who i am. and because they have laughed at when i tell them of when i tried to rip away unwanted hands before, i know they will laugh and try again if i rip away theirs.

and then i deal with it alone, the spiraling depression, the adhd that makes me hyperfixiate on fictional men who god i wish would love me back, love me the way i wish i deserved. who would treat me unlike those before. the twitching and ticcing with no clear source. the malnourishment. the pain. the hygiene. the triggers.

and then i have to take a shower.

[writing-without-time]

[writing-without-time]

“Anne Bonny and Mary Read were pirates, as renowned for their ruthlessness as for their gender, and during their short careers challenged the sailors’ adage that a woman’s presence on shipboard invites bad luck.”

Sculpture by Erik Christianson.

[writing-without-time]

squad did a simple gift exchange recently! i doodled this for @yunyin, who is a good bean ;0;/

[writing-without-time]

its 7am i cant have this crisis now

🌌🌌🌌

[writing-without-time]

feburary 23rd, 2020

added ao3 and chapter 2

a blooming garden chapter links

chapter one

chapter two

wattpad link 

archive of our own

this post updates as a blooming garden does

[writing-without-time]

it’s hard to kill buttercups. chapter two

a blooming garden - chapter two (ao3) -  wattpad

I tap my pencil on my desk nervously throughout class, annoying some of my classmates around me. I apologize profusely but I can’t help but be nervous. I want to handle this maturely but I’m still a school girl who is only now realizing I just gave a note to my crush to meet me on the rooftop. I sound like a cliche anime episode but nope. This is my life. I’m starting to think I’m more idiotic than I let myself believe.

Sometimes out of the corner of my eye I’ll catch Saiki looking back at me. Every time I do, my heart flutters and my face turns red. Part of me loves the feeling and the other part of me wants to rip my stupid heart out.

I don’t like being in love. I’m afraid.

But I can’t help loving him.

But I’m not ready to die.

Last year, before the rewind, I learned that when this gets bad it’s..really painful. Flowers will cover my eyes, neck, arms, and legs, and anything else, and they’ll go numb and I’ll lose feeling in them. What I can feel will be painful. I don’t want to go through that again.

Suffering for a boy who doesn’t even know my name.

So, this time, if I still wind up dying.. At least it won’t be entirely for nothing.

Class still continues if I’m paying attention or not, and I realize this when there’s a paper passed back to my desk. I stare down at it as I thank the boy sitting in front of me under my breath. I stare down at the paper curiously.. Math work. I sigh and pick it up, and under it lies my notebook filled with notes.

Partially filled with notes. Partially with doodles of buttercups and Saiki and flowers. Last night I didn’t sleep well, my laptop now filled with research of buttercups and their meanings. The notes dance on this lined page- meanings of humility and those of ‘your charm dazzles me.’ Yellow ones like the ones I found yesterday of new beginnings and joy and friendships.

I’d make a great botanist with this curse.

As I organize my cramped desk the homework stares me down dreadfully. If you told me to name 5 things I use every day, calculus wouldn’t even cross my mind. The clock tick, tick, ticks and then the last bell of the day has rung. I pack my bag, hastily shoving the homework and my notebooks in my bag before exiting the classroom. I turn and make for the rooftop, footsteps echoing a bit louder the emptier the hallways get. I open the door only to be greeted by Mr. Matsuzaki. Yikes.

“What are you doing up here?” Matsuzaki asks, glaring me down.

“I was going to meet somebody, sir.” I explain calmly.

He pauses for a second. “...are you a first year? I haven’t seen you before.” He asks, quirking a brow. I sigh.

“I’m a second year, sir. In class three. Yua Ichika.”

He stops, awkwardly. “I apologize. Continue.” He moves around me as I sigh and nod my head.

I set my bag down and wait patiently. I asked Saiki to meet me here, on the rooftop. Maybe I arrive here too eagerly, but it’s not like I have anything else to do. I sit down where I stand next to the railing and pull my phone from my bag, opening some stupid idle game.

Time does not pass very fast. But when the sun is setting he appears in front of me, presumably having teleported. I look up at him as I set down my phone. “You took a long time.” I comment.

“I had something to take care of.” He speaks, but without opening his mouth, I note. Telepathy of some sort? “How and why do you know about my powers?” He asks, and his facial expression changes from neutral to stern. I think he’s trying to scare me.

I stand up. “It was a while ago. When I heard Toritsuka and Aiura screaming at Akechi about it- in that starwell.” As I speak I lean back on the railing. Saiki gives me a look, as if I’m not telling the whole truth, and holds it for a second.

Then he breaks. “I’m going to kill them..” He mutters to himself. “Do not tell anyone about this-”

“Why would I?” I ask.

He stops, hesitates, looking at me confused. “Is that why you asked me to see you?” He questions.

I shake my head. “I have a favor to ask.” He raises a brow, and I begin to hesitate because this sounds so stupid now that I’m saying it out loud. “I-I need you to get me to hate you.”

He gives me an ‘are you fucking stupid’ look. I roll my eyes into the back of my head. “I have a reasonable explanation, okay?”

“...Continue..?”

“I have- I have this curse. And for reasons I don’t want to explain, If I don’t hate you, I’ll die.” I want to keep it brief- because I’ve already embarrassed myself enough and this entire scenario makes me want to jump backwards over this railing.

He seems to just.. Stand there, thinking for a second. Debating if he should listen to the crazy girl, I presume. “Alright..” He can tell I’m not telling the full truth, I know. But maybe if he starts to dislike me I’ll feel the same. “..Meet me after school tomorrow.”

I stop- briefly- because this madman really just agreed. “R-Really?” Fuck. I stuttered.

“..Yes. I suppose. I can’t have a life on my hands.” He sighs. “Just meet me at the gate.” He waves a hand, as if to dismiss the thought.

“Oh… okay! W-Well, bye!” I try and smile, and ignore the fact I keep stuttering like an idiot, and he nods before he teleports away from me. I bend down slowly now, grabbing my bag and tossing it over my shoulder and taking my time to go down the steps.

..That worked.

I’ll- I’ll be okay, if this is all going to go according to plan!

I grin to myself as I put in my earbuds, the buzzing world around me then silenced by my music. This is all going to go to plan, who am I kidding?

Yet against my temple, I feel an ache and a pulse. I want to tell myself it’s a headache, but I know. It’ll start soon. Of course, when you love a boy for over a year.. The process only gets faster..I hope this plan works fast. 

[writing-without-time]

NYC Data Stories: Allyship

[writing-without-time]

you're sick, aren't you, dear?

i'm sick of the tears.

[writing-without-time]

maybe i overreact a bit, it hasn’t destroyed me yet, has it?

[writing-without-time]

Faith stands back from her sister- the statement nonsensical and frankly stupid. “This isn’t a fucking RPG.” She sighs. “You killed innocent people!”

“They weren’t innocent!” Jasmine screams back, defensive. “You know what they thought of?! They hated me! All depressed bastard who couldn’t keep their thoughts down!” Jasmine screeches.

“Then wear your fucking rings!”

“I”M NEVER WEARING THE RINGS AGAIN!” Jasmine screams back. The rings drove her mad. The silence made her insane. But the thoughts of everyone else were louder. “You know what?! They also kept thinking to themselves they liked you better! Jayden was the only one who was ever true!” “Jayden’s a murderer just as worse as you are!” Faith screams, and she turns back briefly to see her two friends. Her two friends who didn’t know she was an esper, didn’t know she was so powerful, didn’t know she could speak with such fury.

“Jayden was the only goddamn person that mattered to me!” Jasmine cries, before she starts laughing. And laughing, and laughing. “You know, I’ve always hated you Faith! But I know you’d be too easy. So how about I kill your pathetic friends instead?!” She laughs, to the point of tears, red balls of energy hovering above her before they shoot towards them at record breaking speeds

“NO YOU’RE NOT!” Faith screams,

and there’s an explosion.

“I’m not a murderer. Healers only mercy kill… and I’m not feeling very merciful.”