I’m incrediblyterrified excited to announce that I’m writing a fic!!!
It’s no secret that I have an overwhelming amount of feels for Tsukki. I have spent a shameful amount of time analyzing his character, speculating his motivations, and developing countless head canons. A couple weeks back one of my dear friends on here made a suggestion that I try writing. At the time I totally brushed her off like that was the craziest thing in the world..and here we are now, hah.
This fic will follow Kei’s development from the moment Karasuno lost to Seijoh in Season 1 all the way through the end of Season 3. My goal is to give you all an inside look at what (I think) Kei possibly went through all that time. Actual canon events and conversations will be used (and tweaked, at times) along with many new situations that I think may have happened behind the scenes while the focus was more on Hinata/Kageyama. (And let’s be honest, I really just needed an excuse to write third gym antics)
Chapter 1 will be posted this Friday, but to thank you all for taking the time to read all of this rambling, there is a preview here under the cut! =^^=
I don’t actually post much about myself, but I guess this is my blog. Panic attacks are scary. You’re just laying there trying to fall asleep and then you’re suddenly it feels like your chest is about to catch on fire. Mine are primarily physical symptoms that tend to very closely mimic those of a heart attack. Which I’m not having, but in the moment you’re not thinking right and you have to convince yourself that you’re not actually dying. It’s a chore. I’ve gotten so that I can recognize when it’s starting and with deep breathing pretty much keep it from getting worse, but the feeling kind of lingers for awhile, lurking and just waiting for you to stop concentrating on breathing.
I don’t know what I’m worrying about right now. Usually it’s my health. I have an irrational fear that when I get sick I’m going to be really sick, when in fact I’m in quite good health and in the care of some very skilled health care professionals. My asthma flared up a bit in the past few days, but that’s controllable. Am I worrying about school? I don’t know. There is some uncertainty about what I’ll be doing for the summer session, but I should be happy because I ended the 2nd semester with 4 As. Really that’s something I should be proud of. Getting straight As in grad school is nothing to scoff at. Maybe I’m worried about working after I finish school. I definitely am nervous about getting a job and then being on my own more or less, but that’s still a ways off. Maybe I’m worrying about being alone and not feeling wanted. I never dated anyone seriously in university and I feel like I really messed up there and don’t really know what to do now. I’m shy in person and make friends very slowly. Online I’m outgoing and strike up conversations with people all the time, but in person I don’t know what to do. I’m scared I’ll be alone and not wanted. I know this is irrational because it’s not true, but I worry about it.
I guess by writing this all down it helps me figure out what I’m panicking about. Maybe this helps someone else too.
Roy doesn’t even stop to talk to Damo. He’s run down the street so fast he can hardly see through the perspiration pouring down his face- time is of the essence because he isn’t 100 % certain that Sonia isn’t going to forgo lunch completely to march down here and rip him a new arsehole for buying drugs, provided that Georgie has told her that’s what he’s doing. Which of course Georgie would have. Dear sweet, gullible Georgina. The warm weather has tempted a lot of people out of their homes and it’s a lot busier at the pool than it was yesterday. Claudia is sitting in the same spot, wearing the same expression of terminal boredom. Roy pauses for a few moments to catch his breath and wipe the sweat from his face. His stomach lurches with disappointment as he stares at her. Damn. Roy: Claudia! Hey! Her neck swivels and she bestows a beatific smile on him, which makes his stomach fall onto the wet concrete and shrivel up. Her smile disappears as she stares at his face. Claudia:What? What is it? Roy: Can you step down from there for a second? I really need to talk to you- Claudia: Are you fucking kidding me? You’re cancelling? AGAIN??? A few MILFS have turned to stare at him. He tries to gesture at her to keep her voice down. Roy: I’m really sorry, Claudia. Really, really sorry. Look, I can explain- Claudia:Really? This had better be fucking good because I bought a new dress! It cost me §80! And I got a full fucking Brazilian! That cost me nearly the same! Roy: Oh, man. I’ll give you the money. Please just talk to me. I feel terrible. I really do.
A/N: This is the end!!! I honestly thought it would have more chapters, but the entire story that I wanted to tell fit naturally into five, so five chapters it is! Thanks for reading!!
As much as he wants to stay awake with Scully and make a plan for tonight, Mulder is still not recovered from his ordeal in the blizzard, and as a consequence, he sleeps for much of the day. Scully is there every time he wakes, reading in the chair by his bed, studying case notes, nibbling on a plate of fruit from downstairs, napping by his side. At seven o'clock, she pulls him out of bed and makes him get dressed.
“We need to get you moving before you grow roots in that bed,” she tells him, quelling his grumbling protests. "Let’s go and have dinner downstairs tonight.“
"We can just as easily order it up to our room,” Mulder argues, but Scully remains firm.
“There’s no telling what will happen tonight,” she says. "For all we know, you and I could end up running through the snow in the middle of the night again. That’s going to be much harder to do if you’re stiff and sore because you haven’t used your legs all day.“ He’s about to continue fighting her, but the cramps that shoot up his thighs the moment he stands silence him, while she stands there, looking smug. "Get dressed,” she says, handing him a pair of clean boxers from his suitcase. His legs continue to protest as he raises them, one at a time, to pull his shorts on. Looking up, he sees her grinning mischievously at him as she offers him a fresh pair of jeans.
“What?” he demands, taking the clothing from her.
“Do you need help?” she asks. Glaring, he shoves his legs into his jeans with unnecessary force and winces, which only makes her smile wider.
“No, I do not need help getting dressed,” he growls, crossing the room (suppressing another grimace as his stiff joints protest- he doesn’t want to give her the satisfaction) and pulling a long-sleeved sweater from his suitcase.
“You seem a little stiff, is all,” Scully says.
“You didn’t mind me being stiff this morning,” he shoots back, leering at her, and she rolls her eyes, chuckling.
“Come on, Mr. Foster,” she says, taking his arm and leading him from the room. "Let’s go get some food in you.“
As requested by anon: All I want for Christmas is more StarLord Smut! Maybe you almost get hurt and Peter gets mad then admits he was scared?
Influenced by: “I’m Not In Love” by 10cc
Warning: poorly written smut lies ahead.
It had been almost a week since Peter had spoken to you. At first you understood. After all, you’d completely gone against his instructions. You wandered away from him on a rather sketchy planet after he’d warned you countless times to stick by his side, resulting in some unidentifiable creature slamming you against a wall and sinking its teeth into your arm as you lost consciousness. Luckily he’d gotten to you before it was too late, leaving you with only a few shallow puncture wounds and the wrath of Star-Lord.
And so because you were not dumb, and because you truly felt bad, you let Peter give you the cold shoulder. It went against everything in your nature, as you tended to be the type of person who went straight to wailing and groveling whenever you fucked up, but it was a small ship and a long journey to your next destination. There would be plenty of time for blubbering apologies. Or at least you thought.
Peter had grown irritated with everyone on the Milano at least once, and while he’d spit out a few snotty remarks, he was never one to truly yell. Instead, he would lock himself in the cockpit and then emerge a few hours later as if nothing ever happened. For those reasons and the fact that it’d been a whole week, you were beginning to rethink your “just leave him alone” approach, and on the eighth night of being ignored you found yourself knocking on the door to the cockpit after everyone was asleep.
Drinking. It was never have a few drinks and then have a lot of fun while feeling buzzed. It was always drink until I black out, do something really dangerous or shameful, then feel physically and emotionally terrible the next day.
Eating Disorder. It was never that I was finally happy and perfect when I starved myself enough to get to a smaller size and all my problems went away. It was always pain, physical problems, my life deteriorating around me, losing everything, fear and being suicidal.
Remembering these things is sad, but they help me with recovery in the present. I don’t want to feel those things anymore and I know to avoid them I have to stay sober and work on recovery.
i drew something and it got in the video but I feel really bad because my drawing was terrible... do you have any tips?
No don’t feel bad! If your drawing was on the video that means dan and phil really liked it and you should be really happy and proud of it! :) I don’t really know any tips because I’m just a hobbyist but i have seen that @incaseyouart has made some really good advices/tips that even I have used. So I recommend to look up her blog for tips. :D
Summary: You were tired and your hair was a mess. All you were doing was putting your hair up, but the hair tie had other plans. Now you’re in this little war with Bucky. Who will win, who will lose?
Words: 824 it wasnt supposed to be this long sorry
Notes: god damn it i thought of this idea TWO WEEKS ago, and i kept saying ill write it tomorrow. its 1:53 am right now, and this isn’t what i meant by tomorrow but here i am writing. i dont know if i can consider it a drabble because i feel like its a bit long, but oh well. i may or may not continue writing this, depending how well it does. enjoy update: because it did so well im continuing this cute drabble series! thanks ~
There are 24 hours in a day. Only a small fraction of those hours were spent sleeping, and you for one, didn’t do much of that. Still, you weren’t one to sleep in, regardless of how many hours of sleep you had. Every morning, you were up at 6:30 on the dot. It had become a ritual to be up before everyone else, so you could make coffee the way you liked it (Steve made it too strong or too weak. There was no in between) and no one ever complained.
This particular day, you slept in.
You had a mission yesterday, and this one was definitely not kind to you. Word came in about a hydra meeting taking place, so Steve organized a group consisting of him, you, Sam and Natasha.
At first everyone was worried; it was 1:26 pm, and still no sign of you.
“Hey, uh, F.R.I.D.A.Y?” Tony called out. He was walking back and forth in the kitchen, arms crossed and wrinkles forming on his forehead.
“Yes, boss?” the irish A.I. replied nonchalantly.
“Whats the status on Y/N? She still alive in there?” he asked back.
Bucky shook his head in disapproval. “That’s not funny Stark, Steve said she took a hard hit yesterday and needs as much rest as sh-” F.R.I.D.A.Y interrupted Bucky,
“She’s heading out of her room right now, sir.”
Everyone froze and looked towards the hallway that your room was in. Your shadowed entered the room first, but slowly and surely, you came along as well. Steve quickly stood up and approached you cautiously.
“How ya feeling? We were all kind of worried when we didn’t smell coffee this morning” he joked.
You rubbed your eyes for a good moment before looking up at him. You could see he was trying to be playful with the coffee remark, but his eyes spoke a different story. You reached out and patted him on his upper left pect and chuckled.
“I’ve felt better, but I’ll be alright. Thanks for asking” you mumbled back, “What’s that smell? Did you make the coffee again?”
Natasha got up from the kitchen high stool, walking over to you with a mug of what you assumed was coffee.
“Actually, I made it this time. I wasn’t sure which roast you used, so I kind of just mixed some until it smelled like yours” she said, offering you the mug.
Without hesitation, you reached out and took it. Carefully lifting it to your nose, you took a deep whiff and furrowed your brows.
“It smells like you mixed the Hawaiian Kona with Tony’s favourite French Dark Roast? There’s even a hint of something else, but I’m going to assume you added… Lion Coffee?”
“W-wow. That’s exactly what I put! Damn Y/N, if I hadn’t known almost everything about you, I would assume you were a coffee connoisseur.”
“Oh please” you giggled out, “I’ve been making the coffee for over a year now. I think I know my stuff.”
You walked over to the couch, joining Sam and Bucky who were watching the t.v. Both of them acknowledged you, giving you a smile and nod. Bucky looked particularly happy to see you, scooting over more towards you.
“How’d you sleep, doll?”
“Like a princess”
You rolled your eyes in a friendly manner, making him chuckle.
“Hey, any chance you have a hair tie I can use?” you asked him. Your hair was everywhere, pointing out in every possible way.
“Actually, today is your lucky day because I, in fact, do” he replied, taking the tie off his wrist and handing it to you.
Thanking him, you put the mug on the coffee table and took the hair tie. As you collected your tangled mess into a somewhat decent ponytail, you maneuvered the hair tie around your fingers to get it in the right position.
Just as you were about to wrap around, the hair tie came off your thumb and slingshotted directly at Bucky’s face, hitting his cheekbone.
He let out a small yelp out of pure surprise, and turned his face around to see what hit him. Sam leaned forward, letting out a contagious cackle causing everyone else to let out a laugh.
“Was that you?! Did the world’s deadliest assassin just yelp like a little puppy?”
You gave Sam a dirty look, and moved your gaze to Bucky.
“Oh my god, Buck, I am so sorry. Are you okay? I swe-”
“I’m fine! I’m fine Y/N. It was just a hair tie, no harm done. I don’t even have a mark”
You studied his facial expression and let out a laugh. Bucky’s expression soften a bit as the ends of his lips lifted into a smile. After wiping a nonexistent tear, you looked back at Bucky and his playful smile turned into a devious smirk.
“What was that?” you questioned him, raising an eyebrow.
being in ravenclaw is not about being smart. it’s about loving learning, being curious and motivated to learn, enjoying wit and wisdom where it comes. i desperately want to see a ravenclaw who isn’t an academic genius at all. who isn’t considered ‘smart’ by school measures, or maybe by other measures as well. someone who takes a long time to pick up on things, to think things through, to figure them out, and sometimes can’t comprehend some things at all. someone who, despite the hardship, truly loves learning. someone who works so damn hard to satisfy their curiosity, because it makes them happy, and they want to spend their whole life doing it. i want a ravenclaw who is not about being 'smart’, but is about being curious, being passionate, and always, always being ready to learn.
Hey as a person that ran an anti-reylo account until recently I want to say that your post about anti blogs actually had a really big impact on me. I feel really guilty about what we did and I'm sort of weirded out now that people were literally cheering me on as we bullied kids over reylo? :( The other horrible thing is that we ran that anti reylo account as a side blog with anonymous mods. And we harassed people on their main accounts, it was a really shitty thing to do and I feel terrible...
I’m so glad to hear that my post helped you, and that you’ve reconsidered your past behavior. I know first-hand how difficult it is to look back on negative behavior and realize what you’ve done — that awful gnawing you get in the pit of your stomach, the overwhelming guilt.
The thing is… you can’t go back. The best you can do is what you’re doing: owning your mistakes (I posted a long and painful public apology to the shippers I’d hurt, but it took me a long time to work up to that), realizing that what you did was wrong, and hopefully doing better in the future. I can’t speak for the Reylo fandom as a whole, but I personally thank you for seeing the light and moving away from that negative mindset. I wish you all the best in the future and as you continue to heal; please feel free to inbox or PM me any time you’d like to talk. I’m always willing to listen without judgment as someone who’s been on both sides of this particular subject. ♥
(( im really sorry if it looks like im whitewashing any of these characters, but i promise that’s not my intention. i always intend to draw alex as the puerto rican man that Lin is, but i imagine that since im too lazy to color my drawings a lot, it doesnt translate well enough?? as a mexican person myself it really saddens/scares me that ppl could think im whitewashing. im sorry for anything problematic that ive done