and escalator feels

@daisugavolleyballweek Day 3. Beauty and the Beast // Gangster-Mobster.

“The heir to the Sawamura clan is absolutely crazy, but it’s his first lieutenant you gotta watch out for. That guy is a fucking psycopath.”

So I was reading through @randomthingsthatilike123​‘s super accurate Sanvers headcanons and it gave me some first-time thoughts (b/c I firmly believe they have not had sex yet) and felt the need to share with the class.

  • The first couple of times Maggie stays over it’s like, obnoxiously respectful and cuddly and tender and Alex spends a lot of time giggling because ok she is a grown adult and so is Maggie but also there’s a girl in her bed and she’s never felt so giddy before.
    • It’s a great kind of giddy though, b/c Maggie is wrapped around her back and somehow even though Maggie’s shorter it feels like she’s covering all of Alex up and it’s so intimate that she has to like, breathe through it a bit.

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Bokuroo beach headcanons

  • they manage to get on a boat, however small, and use any sound system they can find to blare I’m On A Boat
  • while out swimming, Bokuto gets on the inflatable whale they brought and Kuroo tries to join him but the whale is no where near big enough. Bokuto reaches out to hold him up and says dramatically, “Don’t let go!” and Kuroo responds with, “I’ll never let go.” and Bokuto acts serious for all of ten seconds and then he’s pushing Kuroo under
  • both of them think they’re so clever making some stupid drawing on the other one’s back in sunscreen
  • sandcastles
  • Bokuto demanded they get a sandcastle kit before they arrived here, even if the tools are way too small for their hands
  • Kuroo wonders why he didn’t think of it first
  • Bokuto 100% picks up the towel to shake off the sand and ends up getting it in both his and Kuroo’s faces
  • staying long enough to watch the sunset
  • regretting staying long enough to watch the sunset because now they’re both freezing and their clothes are in the car
  • needing to wash off the sand and cautiously staring at the showers because wow that is going to be extra cold
  • Bokuto braves the water first and flicks water towards Kuroo, asking if he could be anymore catlike when he practically hisses at Bokuto
  • racing each other to the actual shower when they get home
  • very warm and very tired cuddling

Title: i promised myself i wouldn’t let you complete me
Rating: M
Warning: smut. cheating. angst. the list goes on.
Character: Eisuke Ichinomiya
Moment: Post-Main Story
Song: ghost
Summary: She was scared. She was so scared of the things Eisuke did and the way he made her feel that she ran. And now things are messier than ever and she still can’t stay away. She sends a silent apology to Takahiro and allows herself the delicious fall from grace.

Work goes slowly these days.

It’s always the same- waking up, leaving the employee dormitory, going through the motions of cleaning room after room, and the occasional conclusion of seeing Takahiro for a short while before retiring once more to the room she no longer feels is her own.

It’s coated with the same sense of predictability she once reveled in. She spent so many days craving her old lifestyle, and now that she has it, she isn’t so sure she knows what to do with it.

And god, is she tired. The fake smiles, the meaningless small talk, the constant pretending that she is okay with watching Eisuke from afar. It’s all an act and she isn’t sure she knows the script.

Not for the first time, she finds herself gazing at the man that could have been hers. The strong line of his shoulders, the soft tossle of his hair, the easy confidence that practically radiates from his tall frame- everything reminds her of how it felt to be with someone like him. And though he was demanding and cruel and so fantastically arrogant he was also more captivating than anyone else she had ever met.

But she was a coward and there was nothing she could do to change that. No matter how much her heart aches and relentlessly calls out for him, anything they could have been has passed like a hurricane that leaves wreckage in its wake.

Then he turns to get in the penthouse elevator, and for the first time in weeks, their eyes meet. Her breath catches and her heart is louder than the thunder that has been plaguing the hotel for days. There’s a heaviness in his gaze she’s never seen, she can’t place exactly what it is but she’s sure he’s never felt it before, and she wonders if she should read into that.

Abruptly, it’s gone, and the determination he gets when he’s planning is there instead. Even from this distance she can feel as his gaze sweeps over her face, to something behind her, and back to her own eyes. His lips tilt upwards in something resembling that infuriating smirk he wears proudly as warpaint, and she can feel her insides turn to jelly even as her suspicions skyrocket.

The elevator door closes far too soon for her liking. She could just look at him for days and never get bored- he is that enigmatic. She nearly moves towards him, a futile effort even before it begins, when she feels a familiar hand resting lightly on her shoulder.

Takahiro is smiling down at her, the boyish charm she fell for when she first began work at the Tres Spades ever present. She feels guilty for her reaction to Eisuke, reminding herself that she’s hardly being fair to her boyfriend.

“Are you free tonight?” He asks, casually taking some of the bedding she had been carrying from her grasp, ever the gentleman.

She gives him a grateful smile. “I believe so. What did you have in mind?”

He shrugged, and she follows as he works his way to the back room to deposit the bundle. “We haven’t had the chance to meet up this week. Would you want to grab some dinner after work?”

She nearly declines the offer, for no reason other than a sudden desire to be alone with her thoughts, when she shakes it off. She’s being ridiculous. She can’t keep pining after Eisuke. It’s not fair to anyone, especially Takahiro.

“Of course.”

Apparently her grin is convincing enough, as he tells her to meet him in the lobby just before six. He leans in to brush his lips faintly against her cheek, and she responds by squeezing his hand lightly in her own. She makes up an excuse about having to assist Chisato with something and she can’t help but feel like she’s running away.

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The Dangers of Ignoring Gut Feelings (and Escalating Pressure)

(Disclaimer: I didn’t see what happened, but I’ve seen how these people handle their horse and I heard the story from several eyewitnesses separately, including firsthand from the owners of the horse in question.)

Picture this: relatively young, quite large Dutch warmblood, has not been trained for five days or so due to the holiday season. The horse does go outside and is not stabled 23/7. But still, perhaps a bit frisky due to its break. 

His owner saddles him up and starts to ride. She feels something is off, can’t get him to move as she is used from him. She asks her boyfriend, who owns a training barn, to take over for her. Both ride with a lot of pressure, at times perhaps skirting the edge of LDR-type training. In any case, the boyfriend gets on the horse and goes to work.

After this the story gets a bit muddled: the eyewitnesses say he was pushing the horse very hard, including beating it several times with a whip. The boyfriend says the horse was about to buck and he needed to push him forward - although he does admit he sometimes uses the whip because ‘it calms him down’. The woman who owns the horse realised something bad was about to happen, but it was already too late:

The horse completely flipped, became impossible to steer, and instead of taking the corner he ran straight ahead and barged right through the 1.30 meter high, 2.5 cm thick wooden arena fence. The fence is completely splintered, there were puddles of blood everywhere, and the owner of the horse in the stall directly opposite of the accident was lucky she had tied her horse somewhere instead of keeping it in the stall, else she probably would have been trampled.

It was kind of touch and go for a while. A witness feared the horse had sustained a collapsed lung because of its laboured breathing, in which case it would have had to be put down, but fortunately this was not the case. However, it has sustained several severe injuries: a concussion, several cuts on his face, a severe injury on the edge of the coronary band on one hind hoof which was impossible to stitch due to the location, and an injury on the hock of the other hind leg. 

I think all equestrians know that dealing with horses is dangerous and that accidents happen. However, I think also all equestrians know that the way some people handle their horses is just waiting for a disaster to happen. 

It’s very sad for the horse and I wish this hadn’t happened to him, but I hope his owners will realise that they caused this and that it is not the horse’s fault. I doubt they will learn, considering how they spoke about it, but I hope. I’ve seen how they ride; they push him to do things he’s ill-suited for and they did not train him in a biomechanically correct manner. There is no doubt in my mind the horse was in pain and that this is why he flipped out.

Most notable in this story for me was that the owner of the horse already had a bad feeling about it and went ahead anyway. I’ve heard this sort of thing from multiple people. In fact, the reason that I am actually here is due to my mom’s gut feeling: she never used to ride with a helmet, but on a fateful day she decided that it might be a good idea to wear one. Her horse spooked, mom fell off and hit her head right on top of the arena fence; the helmet was destroyed and my mom had a fractured skull, including minor brain damage - but she lives. If she hadn’t worn her helmet that day she would have died and I would never have been born. 

Ride well. Stay safe.


Trans Steve Rogers headcanons are so important though

Little defiant Steve getting into fights and hearing his behaviour called ‘unladylike’, cutting his own hair whenever he gets hold of a pair of scissors. 

Teenage Steve who has Bucky to cut his hair now, but is terrified as puberty changes him in all the wrong ways and he’s forced into dresses and bobby socks.

Skinny Steve masculine enough to pass but too feminine to avoid leers and abuse on the streets, Steve who is terrified that everything he’s ever known is wrong when he starts looking at boys the way he’s only ever looked at girls. Steve who hates when Bucky drags him on dates not only because he’s small but because what if they realise?

Desperate Steve who ends up in the army the same way he ever ended up anywhere, by rushing in headfirst. Steve who thinks he’ll wind up in prison, but for Doctor Erskine who understands. Steve who thinks that this serum will surely fix him, fix his insides or his outsides, and is devastated when he feels no different, is devastated when the kind man who saw him for who he was dies in his arms. Steve who can no longer pass, who sees everyone turn against him because they’ve turned an 'abomination’ into a national hero. Peggy who initially thinks Steve is a woman trying to make something of herself, but who is no less supportive when he tells her the truth. Steve so desperate to save Bucky, the one person who has been with him from the start, his own life hardly matters to him anymore.

Steve who is hidden from the public at almost every opportunity, who spends more time serving with the commandos. Steve who finds it in himself to be happy, with Bucky and Peggy supporting and loving him in their own ways. Steve who can fight back if anyone takes issue with his identity. Steve who takes losing Bucky even harder, who withdraws but still finds solace with Peggy. Steve who doesn’t know what to think when he’s heading for the ice. Steve who wonders if he ever could have had a good life, who clings to Peggy’s voice as the plane crashes.

Steve who wakes up to a different world, where the people he knew and loved are gone or fading and the people he knew and hated kept his secret. He wakes up to a future far from his past, but not far enough to treat him as anything more than a conspiracy. Steve who retreats at first, who can’t bear the scrutiny as the critical eyes of the media turn on him full force, who is misgendered on the front page of every newspaper. Steve who starts receiving letters from trans youths. Steve who sees that the world may still be a terrible place for people like him, but he can make it better. Steve who speaks out for the trans community, who transitions and finds that he feels almost comfortable for the first time in his ever changing body. Steve who misses everyone from his old life so bad that it hurts sometimes but who finds friends in the here and now. Steve fighting for the freedom he could only dream of as a child.


Sherstrade Month: Prompts #10

Today’s theme is AO3 tags, just to be a bit different. Go nuts with your art and fics and headcanons. (This was fun, we may repeat this theme later in the month), 

* Watch out for the gayest scientist ever.
* What’s the opposite of a strip tease?
* A lot of showering.
* The world is terrifying and I need to know happiness is possible.
* Reckless use of mopeds. 
* Aggressive refusal to have feelings.
* Things escalate rather quickly.
* So wrong it’s right.
* Issues that could be solved by talking about it. 
* Inappropriate use of emojis. 


I may have a hand sanitizer problem. But I use them! And give them away at work when people are sad. Having a bad day? Have a hand sanitizer! Be clean and smell good! See? Even if everything is total shit your hands will be 99.9% bacteria free and people will ask you what smells good, and you’ll be able to say it’s you. Don’t things look a little better now?


We’ve all got someone we’re trying to avoid. I, in particular, had a guy hitting on me everyday in one of my morning classes who could NOT take a hint, and had been known to follow two other girls to their classes in the previous years. I moved my seat, but that wouldn’t stop him from trying to interact with me, so I decided to take it one step further and create a spell jar of sorts that I kept in my bag, and I haven’t had trouble since then. Thought I’d share!

Note: This isn’t meant to be a cure-all for stalking; I was at what could have been considered this guy’s “early stage” of interest. He was talking to a few other girls the same way he tried talking to me, and I was using this to try to keep it from escalating and to feel comfortable thinking about/in the class. If you’re being stalked, please tell someone and get extra help.

(this is my first time posting anything I’ve made so if you have any questions or recommendations my ask box is open)


Jar - I chose a small one for portability; you can get packs of these at craft stores like Hobby Lobby

Salt - for purification (I always felt… odd around him, like my soul was becoming dirty. I would feel awful and nervous for the rest of the day.)

Basil - for protection

Thyme - for healing, sleep (I had restless nights thinking of having to see him the next day)

Purple Hyacinth petals (I used about 3 of the individuals) - in Victorian times, they were a symbol of sorrow and regret; however, in witchcraft, it is often viewed as protection from harm. (WARNING: HYACINTHS DO HAVE SOME TOXICITY IN THEM. KEEP AWAY FROM PETS/KIDS)

After placing the ingredients inside, I put some clear glue on the cork before sealing it. JUST PUTTING THE WAX WON’T MAKE IT STAY IF YOU TAKE IT WITH YOU. The wax was only for looks (I felt more confident knowing it looked cool) and for the optional sigil I marked into the wax.

Sigil (optional) - After dripping some wax from a white candle onto the cork lid, wait a few moments until it’s so opaque it’s almost solid, but still warm enough to mark into, in order to avoid getting clumps of wax on the marking tool. I used a sewing needle, but a toothpick could work too.

(Sorry for the bad quality, I didn’t make a final version on paper yet) The sigil I used was one I designed myself especially for this; In addition to putting it on the seal I also drew it on my ankle. Feel free to use it, use another one of your choice, or not use one at all and just seal it with glue!

So here’s a thought I’ve been having:

Sanji Vinsmoke, amoral child-assassin and spy, brought up with his siblings, all of them with no sense of morals or ethics or empathy, all taught the family business from birth. Uncannily good with knives, killed multiple men before his 8th birthday and felt nothing, because nobody ever told him that it was wrong, and all Vinsmoke children get taught that the only life that is precious when it’s your own.

Here is how his story differs from Robin’s: Robin had to make herself cold to survive, and remembers kindness. Sanji is born into cruelty and thinks it is the norm. Vinsmoke children are turned into charming sociopaths.

Occasionally he helps the cook in the kitchen, and dreams about All Blue because it sounds like a fairytale, but he stubbornly insists its real, and hey, kids fixate on weird things sometimes.

This escalates until he feels the need to prove All Blue’s existence. So he sneaks aboard a ship, and then another ship, and then another ship until he’s working on a cruise ship in east blue. It’s easy, he’s been taught to be self sufficient and blend in from birth. And of course he’s the kitchen boy, because he’s always liked working in kitchens.

Then the storm, and Zeff, and the sacrifice.

And this is Sanji’s first rude lesson of what kindness is. 

And here is what Sanji learns: being in debt hurts. Kindness is as sharp as a knife and warming as a fire. Here is where he makes the decision not to return home, because this is when he realizes that bth he can’t return having learned what he has, having been changed as he has, and that he owes Zeff a debt. He’s going to pay the old man back if it kills him.

Does Zeff know about his past? A little. He realizes quickly that the boy is too quick with the knife, to quick to jump to lethal injury, has a warped sense of morals - or rather, a lack of them. But Sanji also laughs easily, tries smoking to act older, grins wide when he talks about All Blue or someone praises his cooking. And kids on the open seas are always a little weird, and when he asks Sanji about his family he just shakes his head firmly and says “I’m not talking about that, shitty old man!” So Zeff lets it go.

And the years past, until he’s 19 and Sanji Vinsmoke feels like another person entirely. He’s spent ten years at the Baratie, ten years as the Old Man’s adopted son, ten years hurling insults across the kitchen and breaking up brawls in the dining room smooths off most of his edges. He flirts with women and falls in love with every single one. He tucks Sanji Vinsmoke neatly away, folds down the corners crisply and when he looks in the mirror as he gets dressed in the morning all he sees is Sanji, second-in-charge of the Baratie, occasional waiter, never uses his hands when he fights, chef, lover, fighter.

He hasn’t killed anyone since he’s met Zeff.


Part two pending.

Do I think this is going to be anything close to canon? No. Do I think this is vaguely ooc? yes. Do I think this is going to be jossed in the next few chapters? Yes. Do I think this is rly interesting conceptually? also yes. 

Riarkle Drabble #24

This drabble was requested by @thypoqueen. The prompt is from this post, number 89: “I’m not leaving you!”

This drabble is a slight continuation of drabble #22.

They were together in her hospital room playing chess when it happened. He had begun to lose for a change something that would’ve made him happy but now made his heart break. He knew in the back of his mind that if she wasn’t in this hospital constantly, then she wouldn’t be able to. With a grimace, he moved his queen instantly regretting it as Riley snatched it up.

He barely won, only managing to by luck and luck alone. 

“I almost got you that time and you know it,” Riley told him, cleaning up the board game. “More practice time and before you know it I’ll win the championships of chess, they have that right?”

Farkle slapped on a fake-smile and nodded, a bitter-sweet taste in his mouth. “Maybe you should learn how to do something else,” he suggested, taking the board and frowning as he turned away from her gaze. 

“No, I’m so close to beating you, Minkus. I can feel it,” she smirked, the nauseousness coming back all of a sudden. 

“No, seriously, you should try learning something else,” he pushed, a firmness in his voice that made an anger spark in Riley’s head. 

She furrowed her brows and let her mouth hung open a bit, “You’re not being serious, please tell me that you’re not being serious.”

He shrugged, his own stubbornness getting in the way of recognizing how Riley was feeling. “I’m just saying that—”

She interrupted, scoffing, “And I’m just saying that I want to be able to beat you at chess. Why is that such a big deal?” They could feel the air electrify and not in a good way. “Are you seriously that pretentious that you can’t let me win one stupid game?”

“Do you really think it’s about the game?” he questioned, now mad as well.

“Why else would you get mad?” she snapped back.

Farkle began to pace, his head clouded by anger. Frustrated, he rubbed the back of his neck and ran a through his hair. “It isn’t that you’re going to beat me. In any other situation, I’d be absolutely thrilled. Honest, I would be.” Riley scoffed as Farkle talked. To get her to listen to him, he sat on the bed, holding her hands to make her look at him, “It’s because the only reason you’re able to beat me is because you’re here, in this stupid hospital, with the only form of entertainment being this terrible board game.”

Her eyes grew hard and she pushed him off the bed. “Don’t you think I know that? You’re suggesting that I’m not aware that this place restricts almost everything I have. The amount of visitors, when and what I get to eat, how often I can actually move, everything.” Riley groaned in frustration. “Get out,” she told him suddenly, looking away so she wouldn’t cave when he pleaded her to take it back.

“I’m not doing that,” he argued, crossing his arms and leaning against the closed door of her hospital room.

“Get out!” she screamed louder, her voice cracking and rising in pitch.

Farkle shook his head, “I’m not leaving you, Riley! I promised you when you told me about this that I wouldn’t leave you and I’m sure as hell not going to break it.”

“Please,” she begged.

Hesitantly, Farkle approached her, sitting on her bed as long as she would let him. She did, slipping her hand willingly into his, a sign that they were still okay. He squeezed her hand and with a sad smile Farkle got up and gave her the chess board, “Best of three?”

She nodded happily, “I’m sorry, it’s just it’s been rough and—”

“You really don’t have to explain anything to me, Riley.”

She was about to say something but suddenly she threw up into the bucket by her bed. Embarrassed, she refused to look at him, wiping her mouth instead.

Instantly, Farkle was by her side, holding her hair back and rubbing her back. And when she lay back in exhaustion, Farkle did too, holding her close and running his fingers through her hair. She was still embarrassed, but this had been going on for so long alone, that she was happy to welcome any company that wasn’t her family.

“I’m not leaving,” he told her again, making sure that she understood. 

“I know, rough moment, that’s all.”

“We all have rough moments,” he told her comfortingly.

She scoffed, “Most people’s rough moments don’t include them literally dying.”

Tensing, Farkle held a little tighter. “But they always have a friend to lean on. I’m here, and I’m not going anywhere.”

Riley nodded, moving closer to him and hugging him tight. Laughing suddenly, she moved so that instead of Farkle’s chest against her back, they were face to face. “You love that ‘terrible board game’ more than anything.”

Farkle merely laughed and they stayed like that talking for hours until she had drifted into sleep once more. With a brush of her hair and a sad smile, Farkle whispered, “I can name a few things that I love more.”

And in her half-asleep state, Riley could only think one thing: “I could too.”