it strikes me that i am running on 4 hours sleep

amoralamusement  asked:

Hello, I always enjoy the work on this Tumblr. It's informative, interesting, and satisfying. Anyway, being an Ne dom like yourself, do you have any tips to not be overwhelmed by Ne a.k.a. How to Train Your Ne? I admit there are times when the ideas are buzzing and I yearn for stimulation then I become drained to the point of being physically tired.

Good timing, since I was just reading about Si-grips last night and realizing I basically live in one six months out of the year. :P

I’m not sure exactly what you mean, so I’ll cover all the bases I can think of.

There’s pretty much four stages in my life:

Ne-dom Extraordinaire: this is when you are the unbeatable monarch in your field, when you are on such a roll that not only do you finish your project ahead of the damn deadline, you went ahead and did sixteen other magnificent things that day too, just because your brain was on such a rush of SO MANY IDEAS. For example: you felt good about finishing your essay, so you wrote six movie reviews, four e-mails, 26 blog posts, and worked on your book to boot. And then you went to bed with a smile on your face because damn, I’m so fine.

Ne-dom Uninspired: this is when you feel “meh.” Not awesomesauce, not the lowest of the low, just plain MEH. Meh for a Ne-dom equals: semi-bored, semi-uninspired, semi-annoyed about it. Now, a sane person on this day goes and watches 24 episodes of ALIAS in a row to chill. Me, I FORCE myself to be ‘creative.’ And because I’m generally good at what I do, it comes out fine. Not knock your socks off stupendous, not awful, not even average, just fine. But it feels like dragging my brain through a cheese grater and I go to bed mad that my Ne-brain was lazy as hell today. Like, it’s supposed to be AMAZING all the time!!! What’s up with this?!

Ne-dom Bored-as-Hell: generally, this happens when your life is stagnant, or you are stuck on the same god-awful project for weeks, or your friends have not spoken to you in days, and you are so bored you can hardly stand it, but NOTHING appeals to you. You crave something, but don’t know what it is. You drag yourself through the work / school day like a fish on dry land, you scope the depths of depression, you maybe force yourself to do stuff, but it’s a clear indication that your Ne is STARVING TO DEATH. You must feed it. How? That’s up to you. Get in the car and drive. Go hang out with someone. Start learning something new. Read a book that you know you’ll hate, and blow your own mind by loving it. Try something totally, radically different.

Don’t be like me, and dye your hair purple and cut into a punk rock style. Although, God knows I looked adorable.

Ne-dom Work-a-Holic: also known as tunnel vision, also known as inferior Si grip, also known as the perfect way to make yourself exhausted at the end of the day. Picture a nice normal Ne being a freight train barreling through a tunnel at 976 miles per hour. Now picture a peasant maiden (or peasant lad, if that’s you’re thing) running out onto the tracks, and holding it in place for about 15 hours. It grinds to a halt, its wheels start to smoke, and the peasant maiden/lad is inching forward at, oh, about 6 miles per hour. Fast by her standards, slow by yours. Now imagine that’s what happens to your Ne, when you develop tunnel vision. All that power, going nowhere fast. Imagine the tremendous energy that just ground to a halt. The creeping subconscious despair of the engineer. You are both the peasant maiden/lad and the freight train. See the problem? You are ripping yourself apart. How’s that peasant maiden/lad going to feel at the end of the day?

Yup. Exhausted.

Now, what if that peasant maiden does this day after day for about a week?

Exhausted. Mental exhaustion, from holding back the train, forcing Ne to stay on one topic, or focus on “boring” things for days on end. Where’s the fun? Where’s the zany? Where’s the sarcasm and jokes and random connections? Hello, inferior Si. Obsessive compulsive, aren’t you? Fixated. BAD.

How to Train Your Ne:

1) Give yourself permission to stick to one idea for awhile.

I get it. You will have thousands of great ideas in a single lifetime, or maybe even a week. If you follow all of them right now, you will never finish anything. Do what I do: think about them, ponder them, don’t let them get too developed, and write down the ones you want to hold onto, put them in a jar, and… walk away with the biggest, shiniest, most exciting idea you just had. The others will keep. Let them stew in their juices. Focus on THIS IDEA.

2) Reward yourself for finishing things.

If you want to accomplish something, give your Ne what it wants – a challenge, and a reward. I used to motivate myself through “boring” tasks by setting time deadlines and writing like a bat out of hell, or dividing the task up into separate shorter parts that I can cross off after I do them. That shows me I am making progress. Right now, I’m sitting next to a half-crossed-off list of chapters in my book, which I am proof-reading / editing. Each time a pink line goes through someone’s name, I know I’m THIS MUCH CLOSER to finishing. THIS MUCH CLOSER to starting a NEW project. THIS MUCH CLOSER TO THAT PIECE OF CHOCOLATE I PROMISED MYSELF.


3) Accept that you cannot be at 110% all the time.

This may be hard for you to hear, but you’re a normal human being. You need sleep. You need rest. You need food. You need days off, and dates, and to go places, and be with people, and do things other than your job or your school or writing or whatever it is that occupies 90% of your time. Those normal things that a sensor can do without much fuss, wear you out. Tedious details wear you out. Planning wears you out. Keeping track of things wears you out. The temptation when this happens is to under-estimate what you, as a low Si, needs – which is a break. You tend to way overestimate what you can do in a single week, and sometimes you get way too much on your plate… so, if you know about things in advance that are going to “drain” your Ne, because it requires other, lower functions to be heavily used in your stack, plan to limit your interaction with those functions in excess of your responsibilities.

In other words, if you (me) have to do a bunch of tedious line-editing at work, it is not a good idea for me to come home and do… a bunch of tedious line-editing on my novel at the same time. That’s all Te/Si stuff.

Ne-stuff is… new ideas, new people, new philosophies, reading things that excite your mind and imagination and help you see things in a different way, or watching something new, or going somewhere where you can just be yourself. Your Ne cannot run on full power all the time, especially when you’re trying to hold back the freight train – so give yourself permission to take time off.

4) Pace yourself.

This piggybacks on the above, but as a Ne-dom, you way over-estimate how much you can do physically. Things like going places, driving for hours, being in crowds, walking long distances, etc., are tiring to someone with minimal sensing. Ne-doms need down time, to process their experiences. You are an introverted extrovert. Remember that, and give yourself down time. Try not to be out and about 24/7. But don’t stay home all the time either. That’s a cesspool of Ne-draining boredom waiting to happen.

5) Either do it right now or write it down.

My usual pattern is: get a good thought about 10pm. Then springboard into another idea. Then zip over that way for more ideas. I lay there, staring at the ceiling, telling myself to go to sleep, while thinking about everything I should talk about, investigate, or do in the morning. By morning, of course, either the ideas are all gone or I have lost any motivation to do them. Some of my best work is from dropping everything and doing it RIGHT NOW. Strike while the iron is hot, my dander is up, whatever. Some of my best short stories or articles came from getting up at 5am and pounding the keyboard. So, do it NOW… or write it down. If you write it down, you won’t have to try and remember it (also a chore for Ne).

The best things you can do for your Ne are the following:

  • Accept that this is who I am, and it’s okay.
  • Realize that mundane or tedious tasks drain your Ne
  • Let your mind wander
  • Give yourself permission to fantasize
  • Reward periods of the mundane with fun activities
  • Never let a week go by without planning something ‘fun’
  • Stimulate yourself with constant NEW things (books, movies, music)
  • Read a wide variety of things on a continual basis
  • Give yourself challenges and deadlines to beat
  • Make sure they are SHORT-TERM (you cannot stay too long)
  • Always have something in the immediate future to look forward to

Hope that helps.

(This week on tumblr has been DULL. Is it just me or is it dead?! Thank God for a new Doctor Who tomorrow! I need me some NEW Capaldi + Bill Potts. I totally want to be her best friend and hang out in space and eat blue cubes together.)

- ENFP Mod

The Ramblings of an Introvert// Spencer Reid

Part 2/ Part 3/ Part 4/ Part 5/ Part 6/ Part 7

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Reader

A/N: I am actually really, really excited to start this. It may not be the brightest thing to do considering I already have so much else going on but I couldn’t help myself. Creativity strikes when it wants to. And it’s also written a little…differently. I hope you enjoy,

Originally posted by matthewgrayistherightway

Keep reading

Good Morning

Fandom: Twilight

Word Count: 1060

Characters: Jacob x reader

Warnings: Slight sexual innuendos

Summary: An early morning alarm sets in motion a playful morning causing you to call in sick from work to spend more time with the adoring Jacob

 You flung your arm towards your night stand as the annoying chime of your alarm shattered your sweet sleep. As you rolled back over, you heard a distinct growl and a ‘humph’ from Jacob. You couldn’t hide your giggle, this only encouraged his pouting.

 "Y/N it is so early. Be quiet!“

“It isn’t that early, don’t be a baby”

“It is early if you got it in only a few hours ago after another late night patrol.”

“Awh, you poor pup. We are all so sorry for your suffering. Please excuse us mere folk that have to go into work today.”

 Then that was it, you had little to no time to react to being pulled on top of him. All of a sudden, you were laying on his broad chest and could feel his strong arms wrap around the small of your back tightly. He childishly said “No work for you today!” You fought his iron hold only half heartedly, knowing full well you couldn’t fight his impossible strength. After you were through trying to break free, you settled into the warmth of his body, particularly thankful for it on this cold Washington morning.

 You laid there enjoying the resting pitter patter of his heart, and sighed deeply. “Jake, I wanted to go for a run with Penny before work. That is why I am up so early. She’s been so restless since I have been so busy at the hospital. Poor puppy just wants some attention.”

 "I can take her later. Plus, I can think of a much better morning cardio session,“ he slyly added.

 Suddenly you feel his hands slide down your back into a much more PG 13 position. You giggled immediately, you always were a bit shy. Even though you were engaged to him, you still couldn’t talk about “it” without blushing violently. So you wiggled and squirmed, trying to break free of his hold, only to fail to even move an inch.

 None of it came from a place of not wanting him, it was all in fun. Of course you wanted him. Every time he even looked at you, you could feel a pleasant shiver shoot through your body. Your heart skipped a beat with every time he grabbed your hand, or put his hand on the small of your back as you crossed the street, or anytime he brushed a piece of your wild hair out of your face. You loved him, you adored him, and you could not deny he was a beautiful man. Many times you found yourself questioning your worthiness for his love. It was so pure and loyal, you never even imagined such a romance for yourself. Many times, on mornings just like this, you found yourself beyond thankful for that fateful day when your paths crossed.

 You pulled yourself up to be eye to eye. "Good morning pretty girl. Did you sleep ok?” he said. Even with harsh morning breath, this phrase melted you into him.

 "Much better once you joined me. The bed is too big without you.“

 He moved his hands up your body and landed a warm palm on your face, stroking your cheek with his thumb. ” I miss you more than you can know when we are apart. The world is too big without you next to me.“ He pulled you closer and your lips met with a static that jumpstarted your heart. As his tongue separated your lips, you felt your stomach do a small flip. As your mouth parted you let out a distinct moan and sigh, you could feel Jake smile and silently chuckle at you as you expired your desire and satisfaction.

 Immediately you knew you couldn’t let him win like that. You plotted revenge quickly in your head and went to work. You pulled his arms from your back and gently pinned them over his head. Pulling your lips from his, you started by kissing his forehead, moving to his cheeks, his lips again quickly, and then down his jaw line. You paused at a spot on his neck right above his shoulders. You could feel the goose bumps rise on his skin as you hungrily kissed this spot. You continue down his chest and towards his chiseled stomach. As you moved further south, you could feel his breathing quicken and his body tighten with anticipation and excitement. Your plan was working.

 You released his arms and took your legs from under his to straddle him around his knees. You could see him take shallow breaths, and knew this was the moment to strike. You quickly leaped from the bed and sprinted towards one of the spare bedrooms of your cottage. Slamming yourself silently into the closet, you shut the door and propped yourself against it.

 You heard a very loud "THAT WAS SO MEAN Y/N. I AM TOTALLY GOING TO GET YOU NOW.” You tried with all your might to conceal your giggle fit as you heard him crash around the house looking for you. With a brilliant stroke of genius, you bounced up and starting grabbing all your misfit clothes gone to die in the spare closet and threw them on as fast as you could.

 By the time he found you, you had put on 8 t-shirts, 4 hoodies, 1 giant puffy jacket, and 1 peacoat. You had managed to find 3 pairs of pants and a pair of ski pants to put on as well. You waddled out of the closet and said “Come and take it, baby” in your least sexy voice possible. Both of you burst into an uncontrollable laughter. You were laughing so hard, you couldn’t see through all your tears.

 When you finally laughed it out, Jake helped you take off all the layers. You were sweating from all the layers and commotion.  Jake took a look at the literal hot mess before him and said “Hit the showers hot stuff. I think it is very obvious that you are sick today, clearly you are running a fever and have the sweats. I will call the hospital and let them know you won’t be coming in. I have much more exciting things planned for us today pretty girl.” As you blushed at his hint, he smiled his brilliant smile and pulled your phone from the night stand and started dialing. You gave him a quick peck and bounced towards the bathroom, very certain that nothing at work would be as good as the morning you were having.

Strike A Deal | Part 13

Pairing: VIXX Ravi x Reader

Genre: Fantasy/Mythology/Hades! AU

Summary:  When he catches you in his trap, what else can you do but make a deal with the King of the Underworld?

Author’s Note: New part, sorry it took so long. Anyway, enjoy~

Read more: Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12 | Part 13 | Part 14 | Part 15 (Last) 


His eyes fluttered open for the first time in a long while. He had not woken since she had left him.

 His life for the past few weeks had been haze filled dreams in his constant state of unconsciousness. He relived the moments he had spent with her, it was the only thing keeping him from giving into the doom-filled depths of a god’s afterlife without her. He often dreamed of their future together, some dreams ending with little heirs running around his Kingdom, his beloved by his side. 

On days where his injuries took more of a toll on his system, he dreamed of his life without her. Eros visited him in these dreams, with wise warnings of love and how his beloved would never return to his side unless he changed his possessive and unfair ways. He hated these days the most. He wanted to destroy Eros for ever saying such things. 

It was then that he’d see how you looked at him, with eyes so saddened his heart felt like it was shattering. He couldn’t bare it. Then you’d leave him, following behind the God of love and into the arms of another. You were happy and free. Eros may have been a fool in most situations, but in love maybe he could be truly wise. Perhaps, he was right. The more he saw you vanish, the more he believed it. Nothing had truly worked on you so far. He’d do anything to be with you. He longed for you even if it was just a version of you he could only see in his mind. He hated when you went away, he needed to be with you again. 

His mind often echoed whispers into his dreamlike state. He could recognise them easier this time, more clearly than usual. His last dream had sent waves throughout his body, awakening the weakened god slowly from his slumber. He had lost you again, but this was the very last time. He would not be without you unless you truly wished it this time. 

His mind was dizzy and his senses weren’t fully in tact but his brothers next words rang crystal clear. 

“Brother, I know you’re healing right now but I find talking to you helps for both my sanity and for your recovery.” Hakyeon sighed. “I’ve been watching your mortal, it seems her beauty has attracted another. She is to be married, brother. The time is coming you’ll be able to walk freely in the human world. But, she’ll be married if you don’t-” 

“W-Where is she?” 

Keep reading

Rick’s sister (Daryl Dixon x Reader)

Fandom: The Walking Dead 

I first wrote this on my Wattpad account as a two-part imagine but as I haven’t been really active these days so I thought why not giving you a little Christmas gift in advance with this long oneshot! Enjoy folks! 

Imagine being Rick’s little sister. He thinks you’re dead but you survived somehow to find him and his group at the farm months after the outbreak.


Originally posted by kendaspntwd

You were running in the woods outside the city of Atlanta. Your lungs filled with fire as you ran for your life. It has been 4 months now since the world came to an end. Roads full of dead people walking. You weren’t ready when it happened, but then who was?

Only a month before the apocalypse your brother had been shot in the line of duty. He was a sheriff in King County, ‘officer Rick Grimes’. You chuckled in your head hearing his proud voice when he came home with his uniform for the first time. You had always been close to your big brother, sure he was overprotective and could get on your nerves sometimes but he was your brother, your best friend, your blood. So when shit hit the fan you decided to go back in town for him not trusting a single word that his best friend Shane had say about him being dead. Nobody can kill Rick, he’s a survivor.

So were you.

Unfortunately, the city was already overrun when you arrived. You wanted to reach the hospital he was in but you couldn’t find a safe way in. It was a suicide mission. In other words, it was impossible for a young woman with only a handgun as a weapon. You had kicked and punched walls, screamed to the sky in despair, you had cried for hours not knowing what to do. Your brother needed you and you had failed him. He was always there for you when you needed him and the only time he could have needed your help you hadn’t been able to do a single thing.

You had been alone since then, not seeing a human face for 4 months. You were running as fast as your tired legs could carry you trying to get away from the geeks. You had been trying to steal some food in a store when the monsters came out of nowhere, trapping you in the small town you had been staying in for two weeks. When you finally had the chance to run away some of the dead had followed you in the woods. You shot a lot of them before running out of ammo and switching to use your knife. You weren’t going to die this way.

‘I can survive! For you Rick!’

You thought as you jump over a fallen tree. Your ears filled with the sounds of your fast heartbeats and your vision began to darken, little sparks exploding before your eyes as you ran using your last piece of energy. You could survive if only you hadn’t trip and fall to the ground. In a couple of seconds one of the geeks had reach you and was already trying to tear your flesh apart. You were screaming and holding the heavy monster as far of your face as you could. Your head was hurting, your muscles were aching and your mind was begging you to give up. After what felt like the eternity you closed your eyes and speak out loud what you thought would be your last words.

“I’m sorry Rick, I love you brother.”

And you let your arms fall back to your side waiting for the pain but it never came. You only felt a heavy weight fall on top of you then nothing. You open your eyes to see the geek dead with an arrow in his skull. You frowned when you heard fighting sounds and pushed the dead body off of you before sitting up. When you looked around you saw a tall man with a crossbow killing the last geek that was chasing you. You watched impressed as the man turned around, breathing heavily and pointing his crossbow at your face directly.


You squeak out and raised your hands in the air to show him that you weren’t a threat. This man was the first human being you were seeing since the outbreak. You couldn’t help but smile but he didn’t flinch, his crossbow still pointed at your face.

“Who the hell are ya girl?”

The man asked you in his redneck accent. Somehow, the intonation in his voice made you remember your brother. The southern accent was evident in the family.

“I… I’m (y/n). Please I’m not a threat, I promise. I don’t have a group, I’m alone don’t shoot me.”

You begged with tears threatening to spill. The man looked surprise and lowered his weapon suddenly aware of how innocent you were. Guilt flash on his features for a second but he turned around to walk away without another word. You got up quickly and tried to catch up with him.

“Wait! Where are you going?”

“Not your damn business kid! I saved you now go.”

“I can’t, please. I can’t do this alone anymore.”

“You’ve done it since a long time no? So keep doing it.”

The man said harshly and you stopped walking after him, looking down at your feet. He stopped too and looked back at you. You were small but he could see the muscles on your arms and your legs. You weren’t weak but for an unknown reason you were ready to give up.


Was all you answered in a shaking and weak voice. You looked back up at the man and your eyes locked with his sticking blue eyes. Yours were softer, a pale blue with sparks of grey.

Your brother had the same eyes.

That wasn’t the only feature you had in common. Your hair was also brown and curly, reaching the middle of your back in perfect waves and framing your face softly. You also wore your heart on your sleeve, like your brother. The man was looking at you intently.

“What do ya say your name was again?”

He asked, for the first time not sounding angry at you.

“(Y/n). (Y/n) Grimes.”

The man’s eyes widen slightly before he took a step towards you. He was studying your face.

“Grimes huh?”

“Yeah. And you are?”

He locked eyes with you once again. 'Damn his eyes are stunning’ you thought and feel yourself blush.

“Daryl. Daryl Dixon.”

He said in a low voice then he grabbed your wrist and start walking rapidly.

“What the hell are you doing?”

You screamed and tried to break free from his grip.

“Stop screaming like that girly. I’m taking you back to my camp.”

“I have a name you brute and I can walk just fine by myself thank y…”

Just as you said that you start to feel dizzy and tripping over your own feet.

“M… Mister Dixon, I don’t… Feel that good…”

You said before falling to the ground and fainting.

“Ya gotta be kiddin’ me!”

You heard Daryl say clearly annoyed before everything went black.

Your eyes fluttered open slowly. You were disoriented. 'Where am I?’ You couldn’t remember a single thing. Your head was pounding and the light was hurting your eyes.

“What the hell?”

You said in a croaked voice. You heard loud footstep approaching you and you opened your eyes to be met with the same striking blue eyes that had saved you.

“Mornin’ sleeping beauty.”

Daryl said with a small smirk on his lips.

“Where am I?”


He answered shortly. You opened your mouth to speak when the door of the room you were in opened suddenly making you jump. An old man with white hair and beard entered the room followed by… Rick?!


You screamed and rushed to your brother who was still in shock to see you alive. You cried as you hugged him, he soon hugged you back slightly crushing you in the process. You laughed feeling happiness filled your heart. Rick buried his face in your hair and you could feel his tears fall on your bare shoulder.

“I thought you were dead.”

He said still crying.

“I thought you were too.”

You answered tears also falling down your cheeks. Your brother pulled away to look at you, checking for any injuries.

“When Daryl said that he had brought back a lost girl I never thought it could have been you, sister! How… Are you hurt?”

You shook your head no and sat back on the bed feeling a little lightheaded.

“No I’m fine. Well I wouldn’t have been if Mister Dixon hadn’t save me.”

You said and turned around to look at your savior. The redneck shrugged.


He answered but Rick walked towards him and put his hand on Daryl’s shoulder.

“No, thank you so much Daryl. You brought me back my little sister. I can’t thank you enough.”

“She definitely looks like you man. Simply more beautiful.”

He said playfully and the two men chuckled slightly when you blushed a deep shade of red.

“I think you should let (y/n) rest for a while now. And I will ask someone to bring you something to eat.”

The old man said before helping you to lay back down on the bed.

“I’m Hershel by the way.”

He said before leaving the room. Daryl nodded his head at you before exiting the room, leaving you and Rick alone.

“Carl and Lori will be so happy to see you. I’m going to bring them to see you. They were so worried when you left.”

“Oh you knew I went back for you?”

You asked with a small smile on your lips. Rick sat next to you on the bed and kissed your forehead.

“Yes. I knew you wouldn’t give up on me that easily.”

You grinned at him before hugging him again.

“So… What is this place?”

Rick explained you everything. How he woke up in the hospital, lost and scared. How he found the group and his family. How they lost people at the CDC and the first camp. How they ended up at Hershel’s farm looking for little Sophia.

“Dear Lord…”


Rick looked down clearly blaming himself for what happened with the little girl.

“It’s not your fault Rick, you didn’t have the choice.”

Rick shrugged is shoulder and sighed before kissing your forehead once again and getting up.

“I’ll go find Lori and Carl. I’ll be right back. Try to rest okay.”

“Yes mom.”

You answered him and rolled your eyes. Rick chuckled and left the room leaving you to smile at the ceiling. You sighed in relief. You weren’t completely safe, nowhere is truly safe nowadays but even if you might die tomorrow you’re with your brother again… thanks to your redneck savior.

You were still laying on the bed, waiting for Rick to come back with his little family. Your mind was blank as you looked out of the window. The warm Georgian breeze making the fluid white drapes float into the room. You could hear the soft sound of people chatting in the field outside the house. You closed you eyes and exhaled a sigh of relief.

After a while, a soft knock on the door brought you out of your daydream. You opened your eyes to see Daryl entering the room with a tray of food. You smiled slightly at the man, secretly wondering why he even bothered to bring you food.

“Hershell said ya need to eat.”

He said as he extended his arms to hand you the tray, his statement sounding more like an excuse to explain his presence.

“Yeah I guess he’s right. I’m starving.”

You answered while sitting up on the bed and grabbing the tray with your weak arms. You definitely needed a proper meal. You dug into your food without hesitation, the smell of chicken and potatoes filling your nostril. It was irresistible.

You heard a soft chuckle from beside you and blushed at Daryl’s comment.

“Easy girl! You’re going to get sick.”

“What can I say? I’m hungry!”

You exclaimed and playfully stuck your tongue out at him.

“Careful with that tongue of yours princess.”

Daryl warned in a low threatening voice that (you couldn’t deny it) made your stomach flutter. You blushed and mumbled.

“I’m not a princess.”

You sounded like a kid and you could see Daryl smirk from the corner of your eyes. You dug back into your food to hide your flushed cheeks but this time much slower. After ten more minutes you had finished eating and rested your back against the bed’s headboard, a warm feeling spreading into your body.

“I already feel better. Thanks to you mister Dixon.”

You stated and turned your head to look at your savior.

“Call me Daryl… Ya make me sound older than I truly am.”

You chuckled softly and nodded your head in approval.

“But aren’t you old?”

You teased him with a devilish smirk on your lips. Daryl groaned and glared at you. You couldn’t help but laugh at his antics.

“I’m kidding! Don’t kill me.”

“I would never harm you. Even if you were trying to kill me. I couldn’t hurt such an innocent young girl like you.”

'For Christ sake! Can you stop being cute for a second?!’ You thought but you only answered with a shy: “Thanks… I guess.” Daryl shrugged but then it hit you.

“Wait… How old do you think I am, Daryl?”

“Something like 18… Maybe 19.”

You raised an eyebrow at the man before bursting into laughers once again. When you opened your eyes he was looking at you with confusion.

“What’s so funny?”

“I know that I look young but not that much! I’m 25, Daryl.”

The man now looked at you in disbelief, looking you over as if to find a piece of evidence that could prove your age.

“No way in hell, princess.”

“I truly am! Ask Rick, dummy.”

You giggled and shook your head as Daryl continued to check you out.

“Take a picture Dixon it will last longer.”

You playfully teased him. Daryl blushed slightly and you bit your lips trying to calm the squeaking voice in your head that was screaming at his cuteness. An embarrassed silence settled between the two of you when suddenly the door opened and Carl ran into the room jumping on the bed and hugging you.

“Aunty (Y/N)!! I thought I would never see you again!”

You hugged the little boy back, kissing the top of his head as Lori and your brother entered the room. Rick looked at Daryl with questionable eyes before smiling at you and his son. Carl was babbling about something that happened today when you saw Daryl getting up from the chair beside you and leaving the room. He stopped at the door to look at you one last time then left and closed the door behind him. Weirdly, you already missed the man’s presence but you quickly shook the thought away and focused your attention back on your nephew.

Later on that day, Hershell decided that you could get out of bed and walk around the farm to meet everyone. So Rick helped you up and you walked out of the house with his arm around your waist to support you. He was back at his overprotective self, afraid of you falling down if he didn’t hold you.

“I’m fine Rick, really I’m not made of glass.”

“Daryl told me how you fainted. He said that you looked like an innocent lost little bird, all alone in the woods.”

You scoffed and laughed sarcastically.

“He also thought that I was 18 so…”

Rick smirked and looked down at you as you walked down the steps of the house carefully.

“What? I know that smirk! What are you implying?”

“Oh nothing.”

Your brother answered still with the same knowing smirk on his lips.

“Ah come on Rick! What?”

“(Y/N) and Daryl on a tree…”

Your brother sang just above a whisper.

“Stop it!”

You squealed, embarrassed as you punched his arm.

“Ouch this hurt!”

You both laughed as you arrived in the middle of the camp. You looked around to be met with unknown faces apart from your family, Daryl and… Huh Shane.
Your laughers died down as you shuffled nervously, looking down. Rick squeezed your shoulder to comfort you and took a step forward to address the small group.

“Alright… Everyone I’d like you to meet (Y/N). My little sister.”

Rick turned to look at you with a bright smile on his lips. You looked up and waved shyly at the group.

“Hi, nice to meet you all.”

The group smiled at you and everyone came to meet you. Glenn was a nice guy, you could already picture the both of you becoming good friends. Dale was a sweet old man, he was already welcoming you in the group. Andrea as well. Carol seemed to be a nice lady but sadness was written all over her soft features, you remembered that they were still looking for her daughter and hugged her a little bit longer than the others. T-Dog was funny, you liked the way he would talk and tell you fun little stories about the others. You were slowly feeling less shy when Shane came and hugged you. You didn’t feel at ease in his arms, the man was your brother’s best friend but you couldn’t shake the memory of him and Lori together off of your head.

“Hm… Yeah nice to see you again too Shane.”

You told him before pulling away, the hug lasting too long for your liking.

“It’s good to see your pretty face again (Y/N).”

“Huh… Yeah sure.”

You faked a smile and Shane ruffled your hair as if you were a kid. God damn it! You hated that! You looked away and tried to straighten your hair with your hands as Shane was laughing at you. Your eyes landed on Daryl. He looked pissed, his fists clenched at his side. You attempted a small smile in his direction but he turned around and walked away.

“Excuse me a second.”

You quickly told Shane before following your savior as quickly as you could with you dizzy head.

“Daryl! Wait up! I can’t run without feeling dizzy.”

You said in a chuckle as you approached him. The man stopped but didn’t answer.

“You okay?”

You asked, walking next to him.

“Yeah I’m fine woman.”

“Why do you “woman” me now? What have I done?“

"Nothing! Leave me be!”

His voice had been harsh and it made you stop in your tracks, looking shocked. Only minutes ago he would talk to you, bring you food and now he was ignoring you. Even worse, he was pissed at you for something you couldn’t point your finger at.

“Leave him some time sis. He’s not used to be around that many people.”

You turned around to see your brother with his arms crossed over his chest looking at the now small silhouette of Daryl Dixon.

“Where is he going?”

“He’s going to look for Sophia. He’s the only one going today. I can’t go because I gave too many blood units to save Carl.”

“He’s going alone?!”

“Yeah that’s not a big deal.”

“You must be kidding me? He has nobody to watch his back! So many things could happen.”

You said the last sentence just above a whisper, afraid to even say it out loud. Rick hugged you by your shoulders.

“Don’t worry sis, he’s going to be just fine.”

You scoffed and glanced up at your big brother.

“As if I cared.”

You said stubbornly, earning a chuckle from Rick.

“Indeed (Y/N), you don’t have the slightest crush on Daryl huh?”

“C… Can you stop?”

You wined and turned around, walking towards Lori as you continued to behave like a 6 years old.

“Lori your husband is teasing me again!!”

You screamed over the camp, making everyone laugh.

It was late in the afternoon now and Hershell had told you to move in with the group. You were currently trying to settle your small possessions in the only available tent, which was Daryl’s. You sighed as you tried to think about something to tell Daryl. He will never let you stay with him in his tent, not after the way he talked to you this morning. You shook your head trying to stay calm but your efforts were quickly ruined when you heard the tent opening to reveal a tired looking Daryl.

“What the hell are ya doing here?”

“I… I’m sorry it’s the only tent available. Rick told me to go inside, I didn’t mean to intrude but if you want me gone I can…”

“Nah 'sfine.”

Daryl cut you and laid down on his side of the tent. You tried to chat with him but he was ignoring you so you decided to go outside for a walk. You walked in the field, nearing a greener path leading to some small graves. You look at them with sorrowful eyes. After a while you sat against the tree nearby the graves and looked at your small family from apart. Suddenly you heard someone shuffling by your side and sitting next to you. You looked at the person to be met by a pair of stunning blue eyes. You looked away quickly, wondering what he was doing here.

“I’m sorry… I’ve been an ass to ya.”

Daryl’s deep voice apologize. You turned to face him entirely.

“I… I’m not used to be around someone like ya.”

“Someone like me?”

You asked, confused.

“Yes… Someone genuinely nice.”

“Well thank you.”

You smiled softly.

“Girls like ya don’t give a shit about men like me.”

“What is that even supposed to mean?”

“I’m just some redneck trash. Beautiful, nice and intelligent girls don’t talk to me. Or even spare me a glance.”

“Is that really what you think of yourself?”

He didn’t answer, he simply shrugged not daring to look at you.

“You’re so much more Daryl. In only a day that I’ve known you I can already see that there’s so much more about you than you think. You’re a good man and a man of honor too, I can see that.”

“Ya don’t really know me.”

“Maybe… But I’m willing to learn more about you.”

Daryl looked at you with an expression that you couldn’t really read.

“I… I have this for ya.”

He said with a faint blush on his cheeks. You looked at his hand to see the most beautiful flower you had ever seen. The soft petals were white, intertwining in the most perfect way. You smiled up at him, a blush slowly making its way up your cheeks as well.

“It’s beautiful Daryl. Thank you.”

He nodded and placed the Cherokee rose carefully in your hair, his fingers gazing your cheek softly.


He whispered while looking at you. You chuckled and leaned up to place a kiss on his cheek. Your lips lingering on his skin after the kiss.

“I’m glad you saved me Daryl Dixon.”

“And I’m glad I saved ya (Y/N) Grimes.”


Tell me if you want another part for this one :) Have a nice day! Next one is a Christmas request ;) 

One Foot Out of the Grave (Part 4)

Read Part 3

Pairing: Pietro x Reader

Warnings: Language, angst, discussion of death

Words: 1,391

Keep reading

I’ll Be Good - Part 2

Masterlist  -  Series Masterlist  -  Part 1  -  Part 3

Ok, first things first: I am not exaggerating when I say I would have never posted any of this if not for my friend @marvelatmytrash​ (and if you don’t think that url is top notch, well i’m sorry, you’re wrong). So you can all thank her for being an absolute peach and striking up a conversation with a quiet lil reader and then encouraging me to post my own shit. Go read Aftershocks. Talk to her. She’s incredible. i’m kinda pissed I’ve only known her for like a week.

Summary: Series – You’re an old colleague of Natasha’s who finds herself face to face with the Winter Solder on the wrong end of an Avengers’ op. Chapter - The team now tries to get their bearings back at the compound while you try to make the most your captivity.

Warnings: Swearing (as per usual), mildest of sexual references, captivity (I know that’s not the word I’m looking for but I can’t think of the right word. But I can promise you no one is taking a leisurely trip to the zoo, you’re not a giraffe.)

Word Count: 1838

Author’s Note: My little heart can’t thank you guys enough for how receptive you’ve been. Here is part 2. I edit this one literally every time I look at it. I’m not 100% sold on it, but I like part 3, so I’m getting this one out of the way. After that we’re all in trouble because I haven’t even started part 4. That said, I would LOVE to know what you do and don’t like about this one! I am so happy to chat, answer asks, whatever. Please be careful with my brittle non-writer heart though, if you want to share constructive criticism. Please.

Bucky’s POV

“Let me talk to her! Steve, I can bring her to our side on this. She’ll listen to me. She’s been out on her own too long but she’ll listen to me. She’ll trust me.” Natasha called after him, almost running behind his long deliberate strides.

“That’s just it, Nat, you don’t know where her loyalties are anymore! She’s been against us for at least what, 4 years?” Steve huffed out throwing his arms out to his sides, incredulous. “She shot you less than 24 hours ago!”

“Oh please it’s nothing. And you know that’s not fair, people with our skills… we don’t have many options… Just let me talk to her. She could have just as easily put that bullet in my brain. She spared me, Steve. She can help us, but you have to let ME talk to her.” She was pleading. Begging. Bucky had never seen Natasha beg for anything. What is it with this woman? Was Nat afraid of what this sniper might reveal about Nat’s own past or was Nat trying to protect the her? Why was she fighting so hard? Curiosity getting the better of him, Bucky followed.

“That’s not the point. We can’t trust her. And more importantly, I can’t trust your judgment when it comes to her.”

“Just because you don’t know everything doesn’t mean you can’t trust me.” Natasha countered, challenging him. They’d been through a lot, Steve and Natasha. She’d stood by him when he found Bucky all those years ago. She’d attacked a goddamn king for him, for Bucky. Would he really dare to tell her she couldn’t talk to her friend? Bucky saw the resolution flash across his face. Goddamnit he’s so stubborn.

“I’ll go,” Bucky said quiet but firm, turning before they could protest. Ending the discussion before it turned bitter.

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

Caroline asks Klaus if he's DTF

This one by guest writer, @queencarolinemikaelson, made us LOL. Enjoy!

Downtown Friday

Klaus scowled at the unknown number flashing on his screen.

 Late. It was late.

 Or early, he supposed.

He didn’t sleep that much, really. Even now, he was painting instead. But it was the principle of the thing. Whichever way you looked at it, 4:15am was technically a socially unacceptable time for one person to be calling another.

“What?” he roared, hoping to strike as much fear into the veins of the caller as there was irritation running through his.

“Whoa, Klaus? What’s up your hybridy nostrils?”

 The voice on the other end of the phone was slurred and oh-so-familiar.


“Well, duh, dummy. Who else would it be?” 

“I can think of a myriad of people who would call me, sweetheart,” Klaus replied, his irritation beginning to seep away despite his better judgement.

“Nuh-uh, Niknak! Not at 4am. Everyone else would be too scared,” Caroline giggled. “But not me!”

“Please refrain from calling me that insipid name, love,” as he simultaneously winced and melted at her pet name.

“Never!” she cried.

 “To what do I owe the pleasure of this – extremely late – phone call, Caroline?”

“Oh! Right!”

Caroline giggled some more, and Klaus found himself begrudgingly smile at the tinkling sound.

“I was just sitting here drinking. And that got me thinking about that time we totally had hot hybrid sex in the woods. And I was remembering the way you did that thing where you slammed me against the tree and then like took me really fast with both my legs over your shoulders, so I wasn’t supported by anything but the tree…”

“Your point, Caroline?” Klaus said, trying to remain cool, as though he didn’t definitely remember that manoeuvre too late at night sometimes.

“Well, I just wanted to let you know I am totally DTF if you are. Bye!”

And just like that, she hung up the phone, and Klaus was left completely confused and strangely turned on.

Keep reading

D&D 5E NPC - Yao Chen - Action Star

Art by: Junggeun Yoon

Name: Yao Chen  
Race: Wood Elf
Gender: Male
Height: 5ft 9′ / 1.75m
Age: 126
Class: Monk (Action Star)

Level: 6

AC 18 (Unarmoured), Hp 43 (6d8 Hit Die), Proficiency +3, Speed 50ft,

Alignment: Neutral

Languages: Common, Elvish,

Ability Scores:
Str 12 (+1) Dex 20 (+5) Con 14 (+2) Int 10 (+1) Wis 16 (+3) Cha 16 (+3) 

Attacks: Unarmed Strike (+8 to hit, 1d6+5 Bludgeoning damage), Quarterstaff (+8 to hit, 1d6+1 bludgeoning damage), Bonus Unarmed Strike (+8 to hit, 1d6+5 Bludgeoning damage),

Skills: Acrobatics, History, Perception, Performance, Stealth,

Equipment: Quarterstaff, Entertainer’s Pack, 23gp, 18sp, 45cp

Racial Traits: Darkvision (60ft / 18m / 12sqr), Trance (meditate for 4 hours instead of sleep), Fey Ancestry, Mask of the Wild,

Class Features: Unarmoured Defence, Martial Arts, Ki (6 points), Monastic Tradition (Way of the Open Hand), Deflect Missiles, Slow Fall, Stunning Strike, Ki-Empowered Strikes, 


Yao Chen Is a energetic Wood Elf who grew tired of the regimented lifestyle of the monastery. He now spends his days acting in stage plays or performing acrobatic feats out side taverns. 

Ideal: I’m done with the quiet life and instead I’m going to pursue my dream of starring in a stage show.

Bond: I owe everything I am to the monastery that took me in. I’ll one day repay them for raising me into the man I am today. 

Flaw: I’m rather Gung Ho and often run off to confront issues without thinking. 

voltron overwatch headcanons

guess who has too much time on their hands. me.


  • handle: sharpshooter (everyone makes fun of him in match chat befoew a game…little do they know…)
  • a widowmaker main. full stop
  • the first time he ran attack widowmaker keith yelled at him. until he Learned
  • he’s Super good when he takes it seriously.
  • does not, however, take it very seriously. hes here for fun, more than any of them
  • unless, of course, they are playing competitive
  • gets play of the game more than any of them
  • occasionally plays ana to let hunk play pharah because he is a good friend
  • will not, under any circumstances, play hanzo. dont ask him why


  • handle: believeit (he played wow when he was young and refuses to change it (mainly because it makes pidge and lance angry))
  • likes playing pharah the most, but is often forced to play zen or rein (until orisa was dropped) bc hes either solo queueing or playing with his friends who dont know how to team comp
  • however, it is agreed hes allowed to play her on anubis no matter what and his team backs him up whenever they can because they love him
  • doesnt like always playing competitive because it stresses him out
  • “im gay but id date pharah”


  • handle: trnsgrlcommi
  • has the most hours on bastion. swears she isnt a bastion main.
  • also plays lots of sombra and symmetra and spends those whole games yelling into her mic about how gay she is
  • actually really good symmetra
  • gets play of the game most times 2nd to lance. everyone yells whenever it happens
  • taught matt to play bastion and has regretted it ever since
  • actually cried when she saw orisa
  • nearly became an orisa main like. 3 days in
  • shes got mediocre aim so shes not the Best but she knows when to use shit and basically becomes a permanant tank for like a month. then shes a Usually tank


  • handle: ripmcr (”youre sure no one will be able to see this pidge?” “postive”)
  • talks to people like and plays with the attitude of a genji main. can’t aim for shit, so he plays mei. unironically
  • he left in the middle of the match when hunk said “ice ice meiby”
  • hunk, laughing so hard he literally cried, also left
  • also plays reaper and shiro is literally always making fun of him for it. its almost sad.
  • gets. really stressed when they play like arcade but is Calm during comp. lance is scared

shiro (+ matt)

  • handle: daddy (hey it sucks but he got $50 off matt for it) 
  • mercy main
  • uses his pistol a little too much. not all the time too much. just a little.
  • solo rezzes keith all the time. his team hates him.
  • after owning the game for a day: “this is what 400 hours of mercy experience looks like”
  • also enjoys tracer and mccree
  • he only started playing mccree to make fun of keiths accent (which he has in this au fuck you) but was actually kinda good? so he kept going at it
  • enjoys doin shitty impressions. except his junkrat which is Spot On somehow
  • he never plays junkrat
  • but he does make keiths life hell rip
  • plays comp with Matt “Resident Bastion Main” Holt and always pockets him
  • they never win. 


  • handle: musregina
  • the home screen character when she first booted up the game was zarya
  • she fell in love instantly
  • matt: dont worry allura ur learnin from the best
  • allura, with potg and 4 gold medals after her first game: what
  • actually probably the best one out of all of them
  • used to play comp with matt and shiro. stopped when her sr reached like 1500
  • “guys i love you but i placed into fucking platinum bye”
  • really doesnt play anyone but zarya but she enjoys the Power she feels when she plays roadhog and hooks people and will occasionally play hanzo to fuck with lance
  • is never friendly. even in skirmish. waving or emoting just gives your enemy another chance to strike. 
  • keith is also like this
  • they bond

bonus: the heith arc! because this is My au and i can do whatever the fuck i want! cut for length because i cannot shut up about heith!

Keep reading

Things I didn’t know are related to me being Autistic until I got older:

-Sensory processing issues that affect personal hygiene, clothing, and appearance:

.My sister hates having her hair brushed, because it hurts her scalp

 .I used to go without brushing my teeth because I couldn’t stand the sensation

.I couldn’t wear jeans as a kid without screaming and being sent into a meltdown

.I have to keep my hair short because I can’t stand the feeling on the back of my neck

.My sister has to wash her hair and body over and over to calm down/regulate her sensory issues

-Unusual posture or gait:

.Can look like limping, and did raise comments from my parents (‘why are you walking on the outsides of your shoes?’ 'I didn’t realize I was?’)

.Sometimes I have balance issues when I am barefoot, or I feel like I’m walking unevenly because the soles of my feet feel too light

.In terms of posture, I am very rigid and stiff, and I sit and stand very straight (part of this is due to my chronic back pain), and I often look into the distance or up at the ceiling. I might be described as aloof, distracted, pensive, or worried, but it isn’t necessarily true. It’s just how I sit!

.(My sister is the complete opposite: she hunches over whatever she’s doing or looks at her hands.)

-Problems with figurative language (not JUST sarcasm, ughhhh):

.I always had trouble with idioms. Think “The grass is always greener on the other side” (I’m like, “Well, I don’t know about greener but technically atmospheric perspective says that the farther in the distance an object is, the bluer it becomes”). Or “You want to have your cake and eat it too” (“Yes, because what would I do with an entire cake if I’m not going to eat it?” This is a ridiculous expression, and I’m never going to change my mind about it.)

.I do have problems with sarcasm sometimes, but that’s gotten better as I’ve aged, and a lot of it has to do with how well I know the person speaking, or if I can read their facial expressions/body language.

-Spatial awareness disabilities, dyslexia, and dyscalculia all have a high comorbid rate with ASD:

.I got nailed with the spatial awareness/visual processing disability and dyscalculia.

.To understand the spatial awareness disability and its extent into my daily life, imagine you are a 4 year old in a bowling alley and you are bowling for the first time. You get a 13-pound ball, and there are no bumpers, and no slide to maneuver the ball with and help aim. Now you have to try and get a strike. For me, the whole world is a bowling alley and tHERE ARE NO BUMPERS

.(I also don’t drive largely because of this and limited time in my life at the moment, though I do plan on learning in case it does become necessary.)

.Dyscalculia is sort of like dyslexia, but with numbers and mathematical expressions (it is a thing. It exists, and I didn’t know until I was taking pre-calc as a junior in high school and my mom told me about it.)

.For me, it is aggravated by glowing screens and I have a much harder time reading if it is online (which sucks, because now they’re putting all the testing and homework online and so me and every other person dealing with this is just internally screaming.) I switch numbers around, delete numbers, and have problems reading graphs (trigonometry was a friggin treat, let me tell you)

.My sister has no spatial awareness issues (as she has demonstrated with her coordination, proclivity for geometric puzzles, Minecraft and other video games that require a certain extent of awareness of what is around you and what will happen if you move this here, etc) She does seem to have some issues with reading and switching letters around and skipping lines, but I don’t know if she was ever diagnosed with dyslexia or dyscalculia.

-Poor handwriting, coordination, interpretation of directions:

.My handwriting is….improved from the fifth grade lol.

.It’s crooked and sometimes I write outside the margins without meaning to, and some of my letters look like other letters.

.When I was a kid, I had such problems even HOLDING a pencil that they let me type all of my assignments.

.In my American Literature class, the girl next to me was watching me write and she said that I don’t slant my pencil, I hold it straight up-down, which seemed to interest her and the teacher. I shrugged it off, but that’s part of my handwriting/coordination stuff.

.I am clumsy: I’ve had trouble opening my pill bottles, drinking beverages without spilling them on myself, and reaching to grab stuff at a distance. It’s not very noticeable, and it doesn’t really interfere with anything in my daily life.

.I do have trouble with bigger things, like dancing or running, and I had a waiver for my physical education classes as a child for those reasons.

.Interpretation of directions kind of relates to the spatial awareness issues, and it is awful.

.I had a friend try to drive me home once and she ended up being an hour late for dinner with her family. I was so horrified and I avoid accepting rides from anyone that doesn’t already know about my issues.

.When I was a kid, I had trouble tying my shoelaces and putting on shoes because I couldn’t tell the difference between left and right. That went on until I was 7 or 8, I think.

Anxiety, feeling tired all of the time, and shutdowns:

.I also have an anxiety disorder along with being Autistic, and they “feed” off of each other. So I might already be having trouble speaking or I might be experiencing sensory issues, but then my anxiety will piggyback on those issues and I’ll obsess over them until I’m even more stressed out.

.I’ve had anxiety attacks, panic attacks, and meltdowns, and it can be difficult to tell the difference between them many times. Sometimes a meltdown will evolve into an anxiety attack, or vice versa.

.Due to sensory processing issues, anxiety, other mental health stuff, and the effort it takes to even go about my daily life, and occasionally pass as neurotypical, I do feel tired all the time. I don’t really sleep more than average though, and I also deal with insomnia, so my average time sleeping can be from 4-8 hours.

.During a shutdown, I can dissociate, go partially nonverbal, or nonverbal. I will stare into the distance, or at my hands, and feel completely numb. It is a horrible feeling. I don’t know how else to describe it.

.I also have problems with trauma-related responses, so those can also add to shutdowns, or mimic shutdowns.

.(People have also pointed out that PTSD can have symptoms that can look like ASD, and vice versa. Think: exaggerated startle response, shutdowns and dissociation, stiff or upright posture, etc. Also there are Autistic people who unfortunately also have PTSD, especially from abuse or bullying which can be related to the bigotry against their Autism and cruel treatment of them by peers, therapists, teachers, parents, and caregivers.)

Auditory processing issues:

.This is so extensive, I can’t even put it all down.

.When listening to other people, music, or television, sometimes words begin to sound like SOUNDS and not words. Other times, I can’t keep up with processing individual sentences or words and my brain will just blank. Other times, I might think a person said one thing, when they really said a word that sounded similar.

.I ask people to repeat themselves, several times, especially if I don’t know them well (I am less likely to be looking at their face/mouth if that is the case too).

.I also watch videos and movies with subtitles.

.My hearing itself is fine, it is only related to my brain processing the words and sounds. The same way my eyes themselves are fine, but I have trouble interpreting directions, sizes, and distances due to the spatial awareness disability.

Synesthesia, perfect pitch, and positive sensory experiences:

.My mom’s side of the family is very musical, and so is my younger sister (also on the spectrum). She has perfect pitch, and so does my mother (likely undiagnosed due to limited knowledge of Autism when she was growing up, and due to sexism in the medical and mental health fields)

.We all experience sensory issues, which can be negative, but we also all experience good sensory inputs that other people do not always detect.

.For example, we all experience synesthesia, in different ways. In music, I associate certain notes and pitches with colours, or words. I might hear a song and associate it with the colour turquoise, or I might here a chord and associate it with being “bitter” or poison green.

.My sister and I like to describe the pictures we see listening to music, and it’s always funny when one of us says something and then the other goes “Exactly! That’s what I was seeing/hearing too!”

.My mom associates certain notes and songs with colours, but she also does so with days of the week, and with people.

.I’m not as musically adept as my mother and sister, but I am into visual arts such as painting, sketching, and sculpting.

.I like to do things in black and white, and then try to “balance” multiple pictures to form a larger piece. I can step back and see blankness, and see what needs to go where to make it feel “complete.”

.I also use a lot of colours in some pieces, and I’m very good at discerning multiple shades in one section, even when they are very similar pigments

.My proportions are interesting in that I draw things more elongated than they are, and I might size different things bigger or smaller than they are in real life when I am copying something. I’ve had art teachers comment on it, and they, interestingly, were always the ones most interested in hearing about my spatial awareness and Autism.

Those are just some of the things I thought I should share. I’m curious to see if any other Autistic people have similar experiences to share (feel free to do so!) As always, this is from my perspective, so every single thing might not ring true for every single person on the spectrum. I hope this is of some use, or at least relatable to other Autistic people, or maybe even insightful for anyone wondering if they might be Autistic.


A kiss never forgotten

*Chap 1: A drunken night*

*Chap 2: A blurred night*

*Chap 3: The bath house*

*Chap 4: A Thousand pieces*

*Chap 5: Heart beat*

*Chap 6: Surprise*

*Chap 7: Sunsets, trees and you*

*Chap 8: What now?*

*Chap 9: Healing the unfixable*

*Chap 10: So, this is it?*

*Chap 11: What now?*

*Chap 12: Kids and kisses*

*Chap 13: Its time*

*Chap 14: Tears*

Chap 15: Somethings different?

Naruto looked at his face in the mirror, his face was drained of pigment, eyes strained and heavily blood shot. He hadn’t seen Hinata or his children in over a week, it was killing him to not go over there and literally bash the door down.

It was hurting Naruto, all of this felt like hell to him, not seeing his children, worrying constantly about what Hinata may have said.

Has she said something bad about Naruto? Or worse about Sasuke?

What if they hated him? What if they wanted nothing to do with him now? Did he ruin any chance of having a happy relationship with his children so he could chase his own happiness? How could he be so selfish?

“Naruto your up again? This is not helping, thinking the worst situations. Baby please just give it a week more before you go and talk to her?”

Naruto looked up at Sasuke with deeply heavy eyes, he wanted to hope that he was right that he was only over worrying about the whole situation but in reality, he was crumbling inside, his mind at that moment was his worse enemy.

“Sasuke it’s been a week, she hasn’t come to see me and what if she told the kids some horrible stuff about us?”

Sasuke adjusted his silk night gown whilst keeping constant eye contact with Naruto. He moved forwards slowly. The light bouncing off of Sasuke’s silk gown danced around smoothly creating a midnight sky colour.

Naruto was so mesmerized by his boyfriend, he could not mentally comprehend how he always looked like an angel that collapsed straight from the heavens at all occasions especially considering he just got out of bed.

Sasuke’s hair was loosely dangling in front of his eyes, his long fingers struggled to move some strands which had broken free and started to bother his vision.

Naruto tensed when Sasuke touched his shoulder to comfort him, he slowly came forward and pressed his warm lips on Naruto’s cheek, leaving a trail of butterflies which set Naruto’s skin on fire.

“Naruto, look at yourself.”

Naruto did exactly that, he saw a man drained of sleep. Purple skin deepening under his eyes, golden hair messily tangled in several knots. How has one week of worry turn him into this? How could Hinata do this to him again?

“Can you honestly tell me that worrying is helping? You are running yourself to the ground.”

Naruto was so sleep deprived and swamped with various emotions that the next thing he did he would regret so deeply.

“You would have no idea what I feel Sasuke, you barely see your daughter, I don’t know what kind of family you are trying to hold onto…”

“Fuck I’m sorry, I…”

Sasuke quickly removed his hand from Naruto’s shoulder. “Naruto, don’t treat me like I am your enemy. I am not Hinata, I am not the person who ran you down to the ground. You weren’t yourself for how many fucking years? Your family may have seemed normal from the outside but fuck sake you have been crumbling since the words, I do.”

Naruto was exhausted and mad, he was taking out his pain on Sasuke when all he did was give a shit about him, something he didn’t have with Hinata. How could he be treating Sasuke like this?

“I know I’m sorry Sasuke, I was out of line, forgive me?”


Sasuke potted whilst crossing his arms in frustration, but his breathing had seemed to simmer down to normal capacity.

“I just wish I could see my kids again Sasuke.”

“And you will, in time, if you really want you could go barging in right now, it’s your house after all. But wait one more week, I promise it will be okay.”

Naruto looked at crimson eyes which still seemed a tad pissed off and put his faith in them. If those eyes, warm lips and hands would lead him to salvation, he would follow them till the ends of the earth.

“Okay Sasuke.”


“Hm, yer okay.”

-1 week later-

“I’m nervous Sasuke.”

Sasuke placed a loving hand on Naruto’s shoulder, reassuring him that it will be okay.

“Huh…okay, let’s go.”

Naruto raised his hand, lingering for a few moments in anticipation before knocking three times on the door.

Silence, torturing silence. And then, noise. Food steps coming closer and closer, each creek of the wooden floor becoming louder, echoing in Naruto’s ears. Each creek striking more and more fear into his already flustered heart.

“Naruto, Sasuke… Thank you for coming, we have the house to ourselves so be comfortable.”

Naruto and Sasuke shared a small glance of suspension and fear, but nothing could have prepared them for what they would hear in the next hour. They followed Hinata into the house. They were hit by the scent of fresh baked cookies and rich coffee beans, a welcoming house full of life and colour.

Sasuke wasn’t moved by the homely feel of the place, his defences where still up and ready to jump at any time to protect Naruto from crumbling once again because of this woman.

“Hinata cut to the chase, why did you tell Naruto to come today and pre-warning I’m not afraid to fight a girl.”

Hinata looked up at Sasuke with wide eyes, but in 2 seconds she was laughing hysterically pushing tears aside.

“Sasuke trust me I don’t want to fight you, I actually called you over to apologize, have a seat and I can explain.”

Naruto and Sasuke were hesitant but ultimately complied with her. Once everyone was seated and served cookies and coffee Hinata let out a long sigh.

“So… I wanted to explain what happened to me that night and why I reacted so terribly.” Hinata tossed her dark hair away from her face, she sipped on the coffee slowly as if trying to manifest this conversion in her head, struggling to find a starting point to her plea.

“Look I have nothing against you two, but I was really drunk and I was really upset… after Naruto left, I was so lonely and I realized I had let go of someone really special… I was being selfish.”

Naruto was shocked he didn’t know what to think anymore, last week Hinata was being…well, a bitch.

“But Hinata you said all those things, about me and Sasuke…?”

Hinata stood up angrily.

“You don’t think what I said to you hasn’t haunted my mind this entire week? It took me so long to even get the courage to ask you over.” Tears filled Hinata eyes as she shacked furiously in place.

“Sasuke, I’m sorry, I truly am. I was jealous, I was selfish. Me and Naruto were miserable together, I know that better than anyone else, then why… why did I want him back again?”

Sasuke didn’t looked phased, he just calmly looked at her with a stone-cold expression plastered on his face, whilst Naruto on the other hand seemed like he was about to go into cardiac arrest.

“Hinata, you properly realized what I great human being Naruto is and started freaking out about what you were going to do without him in your life, let me recommend something for you.”

Naruto looked at him with pissed off eyes.

“Sasuke don’t, Hinata has been through a lot as well.”

“Why are you defending her…still? After the shit she pulled last week, after that disaster of a marriage?”

Sasuke stood up from his chair, scraping the wood in the process from sheer force.

Hinata put up her hand towards Naruto to shut him up.

“No, I can take it. What is it Sasuke?”

“Well Hinata you have been a mom for a long time and let’s not sugar coat it… you have been living off Naruto for many years, with him out of the picture you were stressed about who you would be… The wife of the Hokage is no more and let’s not forget if Naruto wasn’t nice enough to let you keep this house you would also be homeless. So, I guess this is why you are stressing out… my advice is to find something your good at and start working again, find a passion or something and stop living in Naruto’s dam shadow, be your own fucking person.”

Sasuke took in a deep breath and glanced over at Naruto who was absolutely shocked. His jaw hitting the floor and eyes widened in disbelief. Hinata was looking down towards her coffee, a face full of sadness and annoyance.

“It pisses me off to say this… but Sasuke is right.”

“Hinata no, don’t say that.”

“Sasuke is right Naruto, you can’t be defending me for the rest of my life, protecting me from every little thing. I guess I needed to hear that… thanks Sasuke.”

“Don’t worry, blatant truths are my specialty.”

Sasuke looked at Naruto and grimaced, Naruto still didn’t know what he was feeling. His face was as white as a ghost and his expression may as well looked like he saw one as well.

Naruto was used to being the one that had to bend, to accommodate. Did Sasuke just make Hinata change…? Did she really just say that… that she was wrong? Nothing was making sense to Naruto’s brain, he was not used to this at all.

“Naruto, we should go soon.”

Sasuke was walking over to Naruto, bringing his slender hands forward to reach for Naruto and pull him up before Hinata stopped Sasuke, laying one defiant hand on Sasuke’s shoulder.

“Please, let me fix this? I feel like Naruto hasn’t forgiven me yet.”

Sasuke’s eyebrow rose in annoyance, his shoulder tensing in frustration.

Naruto got up still in utter confusion.

“Um Hinata, thank you. I promise it will be okay in time okay, when…” Naruto stopped mid-sentence.

“When what Naruto? Tell me!” Hinata’s eyes turned desperate for restitution, for forgiveness. She needed it, she had to hear it if she was going to survive the guilt that was eating her from the inside out.

“When can I tell the kids about me and Sasuke?”


The room rang quiet, the floorboards making more noise than any living creature in the room.

“Oh, well… I guess whenever you’re ready, but…”

Sasuke and Naruto now both tensed with anticipation, what was Hinata going to say? Did they already know…

“Can I please be a part of it, I want to show to you guys I support you two, so can I help as well?”

Naruto looked at Sasuke with absolute shook, a wave of relief washing off his face. Sasuke also had a slight glint of relief in his eyes but he was much harder to read unlike Naruto who was practically crying from happiness.

Naruto moved towards Hinata, taking her into a tight embrace.

“Thank you Hinata.”


The two ex-lovers smiled and wiped away tears that escaped their eyes.

Sasuke was happy for Naruto, unbelievably happy for him. And in that moment, it hit him, he had never been so invested and joyous for someone else… he was falling for this man so quickly it was nearly terrifying how Naruto could evoke so much emotion in him, but he knew he would never replace this, never in a million years.


Naruto woke up different, much different. He felt as light as air, like he slept on a bed of clouds or something like candy floss. He tugged out of the blankets stretching each muscle whilst nearly melting off the bed and gently landing on the cold floor which was weirdly refreshing. He looked down towards Sasuke who was still peacefully sleeping, his hair falling on his lips, hands softly cupped near his white pillow which cradled like beautiful face, so at peace.

Naruto smiled and walked out, going straight for his daily shower.

The water was gloriously warm it slowly washed away everything that had happened, revealing a different Naruto. He walked out of that shower, changed, lighter and new.

His skin glowed, it radiated like golden sand on an isolated beach, his freckles danced softly across his masculine body, he was more painting than person at this point. The perfection that was the man who walked out the shower was no mere human but more a god finally at peace.

Naruto walked to the kitchen, surprised Sasuke hadn’t woken up yet, his curious mind had him double and triple checking the room to see if he had finally woken up.

He toasted some bread and started to heat up some coffee. He took a bite of his toast and sipped on the steaming coffee, it all went down happily making his stomach dance in joy. Everything was different, for some reason the coffee tasted sweeter, the air sweeter, his body lighter.

Naruto finished his breakfast, leaving the plates in the sink for later. He walked over to the room, slowly looking in to see a sleeping Sasuke. He curiously looked at Sasuke, questioning the absolute impossible.

“Sasuke never sleeps in…”

Naruto started to walk forward ready to wake his boyfriend, but before his fingers could touch warm skin he retracted. He walked out and decided to let him keep sleeping, after all he felt strong enough to walk out that door, into the world alone.


Naruto walked out of his new house, a beautiful little brick house on the outer area of the village, near the forest a beautiful little house with many small animals crawling all over. He loved this new area, this new house, this new feeling.

This was one of the first times Naruto was going to work without Sasuke, it was widely strange but he felt strong enough to not need him. He felt for the first time in so long that he could stand on his own two feet and feel strong, secure and happy.

He had never felt so refreshed and alive. He practically skipped to work, smiling at each villager that passed by.

Naruto picked up some apples to nibble on at work, talking a little bit to the merchant, who was widely inquisitive about the new merchants coming in from other villagers.

Naruto reassured him that Konoha Merchants would not be affected by the changes to occur, that they would actually profit from this decision. The merchant sceptically looked at Naruto but took out his hand to shake Naruto’s and told him he believed in Naruto and his choice. The merchant even threw in some extra apples for free as a gift for Naruto.

Naruto happily accepted and was on his way to work.


Naruto walked into his room, the paper work seeming less intrusive in his room, the atmosphere clean and welcoming. The sunlight coming in from his window welcomed him in, pulling him forward to his seat.

“No Sasuke?”

“Oh Kakashi, nah I let him sleep in.”

“Tch, why not me too?”

Naruto smiled brightly, chuckling lightly at Kakashi’s comment.

“One-day Kakashi if you work harder then maybe, just maybe, I will give you half a day off.”

“So, either something really good happened or Sasuke is mystical in bed for you to be in such a good mood?”

“Yeah something amazing happened yesterday, but we have work to do Kakashi, don’t think changing the subject will let you off.”


-10.30 am

Sasuke ran into the room bashing down a pile of paper work Naruto had neatly stacked together.

“Your cleaning that up” Naruto said whilst lovingly smiling at Sasuke from his desk.

“I’m so sorry I’m so late, why didn’t you wake me up?”

“Yeah why didn’t you wake him up?” Kakashi said sarcastically from his corner.

“I wanted to let you sleep, plus you looked way too cute to wake up.”

“Pff, I would have woken him up with a brick.”

“Oh, hush sexually frustrated grandpa” Naruto mocked whilst standing up from his chair.

Naruto walked over to Sasuke and took him into a deep kiss, long enough for Kakashi to start making gaging noises in the background.

Sasuke was still a tad flustered from the sprint, but he was soon soothed into Naruto’s embrace. Something about his beating heart, his hugs and his scent just calms Sasuke in seconds. By the time Naruto let go of Sasuke he was fully composed and ready for some paper work.

“As I said Kakashi it was a good day yesterday.”

“Honestly what the fuck happened? Or do you have some magical sexual powers Sasuke?”

Naruto ignored Kakashi by taking Sasuke into another deep kiss.


7 pm

The day was drawing to an end, a perfect day for Naruto, work went so well, everything falling into place smoothly. Kakashi, Sasuke and himself had worked throughout the day without a break, but it hadn’t seemed draining to Naruto he was still wide awake filled to the brim with energy, he was so deliriously happy, he had never felt so alive.

Naruto stacked the last papers into their files whilst Sasuke and Kakashi teased each other on the opposite side of the room. Naruto looked at the last piece of paper that was in the room, he packed it away neatly in the file named ‘A’. He closed the cabinet and let out a deep breath and smiled.

He turned around to look at the room, it was empty, actually empty, everything was done. He couldn’t believe it after months of being under so much pressure he was done. Naruto could feel a small tear escapes his eye, which he quickly wiped away.

He let out a happy and accomplished sigh, walking slowly over to Kakashi and Sasuke.

“Hey guys let’s go out to celebrate, we finally after months have finished every paper in this room.”

Kakashi looked at him with questioning eyes.

“Fine…Ille pay.”


“You would think we was broke and homeless” Sasuke said whilst rolling his eyes.

“You would think you had your job because you were talented but in reality, you only got here by sucking dick” Kakashi proclaimed back in annoyance.

“Oh, burn Sasuke, even I can’t save you from that, that was good Kakashi.”

Naruto high fived Kakashi whilst walking out the door, whilst Sasuke stayed behind literally engulfed in flames, preparing to kick both of their asses.


Sasuke, Naruto and Kakashi walked out the room laughing and smiling. Joyous and proud energy literally seeped off their bodies like rays of sunshine. There boisterous energy followed them everywhere they went, infecting others as they went along. Soon enough they lead a group of friends to the bar to celebrate a night of drinks and laughs.

*Chap 16: Its time*

Rucas Fanfic Week - Day 8 (AU #2) - The Cinderella Promise One-Shot

The Cinderella Promise (Adult Rucas AU): Cross-Posted to WattPad and FF.NET

Synopsis: Riley Matthews went to Las Vegas for her best friend and her Uncle’s joint Bachelor/Bachelorette party, but fearing that she would never find happiness she hides out in the hotel bar drinking away her sorrows. While there she meets a handsome stranger with a proposition that would change her life.

Billionaire Businessman Lucas Friar went to Vegas for a business meeting, but after being denied the CEO position at his family’s company, for being known as a player/heart-breaker, he comes up with a plan to win them over if only he find the perfect “wife” to play the part.

One year was all he asked for, once the clock strikes twelve on their one year anniversary they would go their separate ways.

But what happens with they start to fall for one another?

Chapters:  [0.5] [1] [2] [3] [4] [5] [6] [7] [8] [9] [10] [11] [12] [13] [14] [15] [16]

A/N: Sexy Times Ahead…. I’m serious…. This is a little more… well they’re going to do it and it’s going to be a little hotter than what I wrote in the original story. This is for Rucas Fanfic Week 2017 because I did promise to write a one-shot one day for this story…..

This is for @katdvs in case you need a little inspiration 😉

Keep reading

just us two - luke hemmings (part 4)

Luke knew that parenthood was never going to be easy when his girlfriend left him standing in the delivery ward with their baby clasped in his hands. his 5 year old daughter striking up a feud with the son of a coldly beautiful single mum was not a complication he had anticipated though. nor was falling in love with her.

part 1 / part 2 / part 3 

Luke spent the next week in a now sickeningly familiar mix of excited anticipation and guilt. No matter how hard he tried to distract himself with work and with Luna he still found his thoughts straying back to Y/N. The week passed in a blur of constant motion until it was Sunday morning and Luke once again found himself nursing a large cup of coffee after a sleepless night.

‘Morning daddy.’ Luna chirped as she came and pulled herself into his lap.

'Morning baby, did you sleep well?’ Luke asked after he had placed a kiss on the top of her head.

'Uh-huh.’ she nodded happily, turning to look up at him. 'Today’s the day we’re going to the beach isn’t it daddy?’

'Yes it is, clever you for remembering.’ he chuckled, feeling himself grow happier instantly at her innocent enthusiasm.

'Of course I remembered!’ she exclaimed. 'We’re going with Sampson and me and Sampson are friends now.’

'Well I’m very glad you were so grown up and sorted out your differences. Now come on scoot that cute butt I need to go and pack all our stuff up.’ Luke said, swinging Luna off his lap and back onto the floor.

'Does that mean I can watch cartoons while I have breakfast?’ she asked with expectant eyes.

'Only if you save an episode to watch with me.’ he smiled, soon laughing as she dashed into the living room calling out a thank you behind her.

Luke busied himself finding suncream and beach towels and bathing suits and spare clothes and rubber rings and the hundreds of things it took for a day at the beach with a 5 year old. After loading up the car he finally sat down next to Luna on the living room floor, offering her a bowl of cheerios as he did so.

'So which episode are we on?’ he asked, nodding towards the TV as he took a spoonful of his own bowl.

'Kim is just about to save Ron daddy shush!’ Luna said excitedly around her mouthful.

'Lu-lu, what did we say about talking with our mouth full?’ he reprimanded her lightly.

'Sorry daddy.’ she giggled, mouth still full of cereal.

'What am I gonna do with you?’ he shook his head, unable to stop himself from laughing as well.

'Is me walking in on your shirtless going to be a regular occurrence Hemmings?’

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

Can you write sleepy-speaky Sam too? Like reader comes home late and hears him talking like he has someone in bed, things happen&turns out he is sleeping. When reader tells this to Sam he goes like "...I'm your husband why would I have someone else?"

Don’t worry anon, Red’s got ya.

Late night whispers (Sam Drake/Reader)

You’d been sure you weren’t going to be spending the night home.

After a double shift at work, you’d resorted to asking your best friend to stay the night at her place, since she lived near the office and you very much didn’t. And that was the plan for most of the day, until the night brought along a bittersweet feeling. 

Suddenly spending the night away from your comfortable bed, and the company that awaited you in it, became a strikingly painful thought. You didn’t want to do it. As you locked the office door behind you, you realised you’d rather swallow a porcupine than that. Or, in this case, you’d rather waste two hours of sleep in catching a train back home. 

You apologised to your friend for messing around with her plans, because even if she assured you it was no bother, you felt like a time waster changing your mind at the last possible minute.

And so you’d arrived at your flat by the time the clock hanging from the wall was striking 4:00 AM. 

You tossed your bag and your coat on the couch, eyelids feeling heavy and your eyes stinging from the lack of sleep. Yawning, you rid yourself of your shoes and walked over to your bedroom. A tender smile curled your lips slowly at the thought of slipping into bed, safe and comfortable under the blankets but better yet, between Sam’s arms. 

Just as you reached for the door handle, your hand stopped short. 

You’d heard something.

You squinted instinctively, your mind now focusing on picking up the sounds coming from the inside with more clarity. 

“…yeah, that’s nice…”

Your hand twitched, fingers curling suddenly as the words reached your ears. Slowly, a wave of heat raised up your spine, cold sweats running down the back of your neck. Your throat turned dry, and you swallowed thickly. 

“…you know I love it…it almost tastes sweet…”

You weren’t moving an inch, with the exception of your other hand, that had now raised steadily to press itself against your chest, fingernails clutching at the fabric of your blouse. 

What tastes sweet?

The lazy, taken and carried away tone in Sam’s voice was starting to make you nauseous. Your heart hammered against your chest with such force you almost felt dizzy at the sound. Thumping in your ears, mixed with the words coming from your bedroom. 

You felt the tears begin to scald and start. You didn’t want to walk in. You didn’t want to see what you were about to see. You know you couldn’t take it. 

If you burst inside that room right now, you’ll break down in a sobbing mess.

Your hand went to lay over your lips, covering them softly as you shut your eyes tightly, a single tear rolling down your cheek. 

Why? You thought you were happy. So happy. 

You could feel your wedding ring pressed against the skin on your lips. 

“…please…the last one…”


Somehow, from the depths of the pained heart that rattled in panic inside your chest, you mustered the guts to grip at the door handle with such strength your knuckles turned white, and you swung the door open so forcefully it hit the wall on the other side. 

Sam jolted in bed, in such shock he might as well have jumped from the bed all together.

“What the fu-! Jesus Christ!

“Alright, where is she?!” You growled at him, your eyes turning into two thin lines of thundering anger visible even in the darkness of the room.

“Where’s who?!” Sam limited himself to sitting in bed looking like he might just have a heart stroke any minute, trying to recover from the initial shock and comprehend the situation. He rubbed his left eye with a trembling hand, gripping the blanket with the other. Maybe for moral support,

“Oh is it a he now? Are you gay too?” Your eyes darted around the room as you started to open wardrobes and check outside the balcony.

“What? What are you-? Baby can you just-”

“I heard you, alright? Please don’t take me for an idiot, Samuel.”

He went quiet in an instant, his eyes widening at your words. He knew getting his full name meant trouble. 

“I’m not tryin’ to…I just- I’m having trouble understandin’ what’s goin’ on here, love.”

He watched you walk over to the bed and kneel down on the carpeted floor, checking underneath it. Leaning slightly to the side to catch a glance of you, Sam’s eyes flickered a couple of times in utter confusion.


You raised back again, pointing a finger at him and feeling your voice tremble as you talked, hurt.

“I said I heard you! So stop playing. You aren’t getting that ‘last one’. Now you tell me everything or I swear to God-”

“Alright stop. Stop.” 

His hands grabbed your wrists before you could finish your sentence, pulling gently from you as to make you sit on the mattress, right in front of him. You hated how tender his touch felt. You hated how his guilty eyes softened your heart. 

“I have no idea what you’re goin’ on about. I was just sleepin’, then you walked in and-”

“Sleeping?” You frowned, unconvinced. You hated being lied to. Who holds such conversations while sleeping? And yet there he was, looking fairly baffled and wearing a fairly consistent amount of clothes, now that you stopped and stared, for someone who’d potentially just been having sex a second ago.  

Sam nodded, his hands still holding your wrists tight enough to be reassuring, but not harsh. His touch was always so loving with you.

“Cross my heart.” 

He wasn’t lying. It was written in his eyes. 

“But then…” You muttered, now being the one confused. “Those things you were saying?”

“Sayin’? I wasn’t talkin’. I’ve just told you, I was sleepin’.”

There was a moment of silence in which you locked eyes and seemed both equally befuddled. Then, a smile started to creep up your face, until you were giggling and shaking your head.

“Oh god, I’m so sorry…” You laughed, giving him a deeply apologetic look. Sam smiled back at you, raising a single eyebrow this time. He had not caught up yet, but was deeply relieved to see you weren’t fuming anymore all the same. 

“What is it?”

“You were sleep-talking!” 

“I was what?” This time he laughed with you, his smile bringing up the dimples on his cheeks.

“Sleep-talking! You scared the hell outta me! Now it makes sense…” 

“No way…” Sam pulled from your wrists a bit more, prompting you to scoot a bit closer to him. “I’m sorry. I had no clue I did stuff like that…what was I sayin’?”

“Just-…you don’t wanna know.” The roll of your eyes let Sam know it must’ve been something easy to interpret sexually without a context, 

“I was dreamin’ of waffles, to be honest.”

“You giant moron.” The tears started to build up again in your eyes, but this time it was the laughter that caused them, and you wiped them off with your right hand. He wouldn’t let you retrieve the other one.

You gazed at him, still shaken by light giggles, and saw the clear gleam of love in his eyes. There wasn’t a more beautiful smile for you than that of Samuel Drake. And the world was damn wide. 

“Look at your hand.”

You obliged, seeing first the way he was now lacing his fingers with yours, and then the muted shine of your wedding ring wrapped around your finger. 

“What do you see?” His voice was but a sweet murmur now, and yours mimicked the tone.

“My wedding ring?” You said with an obvious smile, eyelashes batting just once.

“Exactly. Why would I ever want anyone else, when I’ve got you here?” 

Sam pulled from your hand yet again, until he got you so close you had to sit on his lap. You wrapped your legs around his waist, smiling down at him with unconditional devotion. 

“I’m sorry… I panicked, I admit it. But losing you would-” 

He hushed your words with a soft kiss that spread a warm feeling across your body. You placed a hand gently on the side of his neck, thumb planting a caress along his jawline, brushing against the stubble that grew there. When your lips parted ways, he remained near, smiling so close to your mouth you could feel his breath hit your skin with every word. 

“Believe me, I know how high I was aiming when I tried to get you…” His smile widened ever so slightly, his eyes drinking in your lovely features, and you felt your heart flutter for a second. “I’m not about to give you up, baby.” 

You hummed, content, his sweet talking always having a immediate effect on you. You never hated said effect…

“How about I make you repeat those things you were saying in your sleep?… Since you were so curious…” Your hand moved, tempting, fingers burying softly in his brown hair. There was no mistaking the look in your eyes now.

Sam pressed his forehead against yours, and the way he bit down on his lower lip made you think he might have wanted to bite you instead.

“Alright… but this time I intend to stay wide awake.”

Let’s do writing tips

A lot of people on here seem to have trouble with the writey part of writing. The sitting down and getting shit done part. And since I write a lot I’d like to share my tips for getting actual text on paper. This is hardly new, but it works for me, at least. It’s basically turning writing into playing with Lego’s.

So you want to write that text

Originally posted by s-e-h-n-s-u-ch-t

Step One: Give zero shits
You’re sitting down to write your essay, or your blog post, or the opening of your next epic novel. The fancy business term for what you do first is ‘brainstorm’, but really, you’re just dumping everything from your head onto the page. You write down the ideas of what you want to do: the analogy between Star Wars and greek tragedy, the introduction of your main character, whatever Wikipedia could tell you about amoeba’s. Here’s the important part: the quality of what you put down here doesn’t matter at all. If it’s already in some kind of structure: great! If it’s a seemingly random collection of words: no problem.

Why? If you think, even for a second, that what you write down has to immediately be ok, you’ll very easily get blocked. The idea is to not write the whole text in your head, but to construct it while it’s in front of you. So chill. Don’t put pressure on yourself. Can’t find an opening line? Start in the middle. Write down the bits you already know you want or need. Oedipus complex, single celled organisms, they have red hair and a slingshot. Then expand on that. The introduction and the ending are usually the hardest things to write, and you can totally do those all the way at the end.

Step Two: Embrace technology
Word processing software is the best thing to happen to creativity since we figured out how to paint on cave walls. The freedom you have with copying, pasting, deleting, versioning or using random colours is amazing.

Why? Sometimes inspiration strikes and a fully formed text happens while you spend twenty minutes typing. This is rare AF and you should not wait for this to happen. Most of the time what you get is a bunch of jumbled ideas, sentences, scenes and factoids that you have to wrangle into a coherent text. So play with it like it’s a puzzle. Rearrange the words you put down until they form legible sentences. A paragraph feels weirdly out of place? Highlight that fucker and move it to the end. You can slot it back in later or simply decide that it has no place in your work.

Step three: Edit, edit, edit
This way of working obviously requires a lot of editing. It’s literally 80% of the time you spend on a text. The more you read a text, the easier it becomes to pick out which parts don’t 'flow’ right. Sometimes you need a little extra sentence somewhere to get over that little snag. Usually you have to cut. The term 'kill your darlings’ doesn’t really refer to characters. It refers to that sentence you were so damn proud of, that ends up not fitting in the final article at all.

Why: Here is the great thing and the reason why this technique works for me: editing is way, WAY easier than writing. Writing is taking things from your head and putting them in the world. It’s Creating something out of nothing. Editing is reading text and changing bits. It’s Super Important but it’s not that hard, once you get the hang of it. All you’re doing is looking at existing sentences and wondering how they could be better. You’re fitting together Lego’s to form a building. You’re switching paragraphs around. It’s Work, but it’s not something you can’t do.

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

Hi! I was wondering if you could do a fluffy scenario with Tsukishima. Something late night when he and his s/o can't sleep, maybe? Thank you so much! =)

My first request. I <3 fluff! Sorry because this is pretty self indulgent… because i couldn’t sleep…. because of FNAF 4….

You really didn’t mean to fidget so much, but at this point you had no control over it.

Tsukishima’s poor pillow was working overtime, forced to sop up the ever-flowing waterfall of sweat from the back of your neck. A shiver ran down your spine as your eyes darted around the room, hyper aware of all ambient noises. It felt stuffy and uncomfortable, a stark contrast from the feeling hours earlier— before the incident.

Kei was motionless next to you. You assumed he was asleep. As your eyes glanced over his calm, sleeping, glasses-less form, you couldn’t help but envy him for once. How could he sleep so easily? So unfair. Especially since his room was nearly the spitting image of the setting from the game. Well, almost nearly. All that mattered was that it was near enough for you to fidget at every reflection of light and flinch at every heavy breath he took.

Your quivering fingers trailed along the seams of the blanket you shared while your eyes glanced around. They followed a pattern, wandering between the almost-closed closet, the almost-closed door, and the digital clock on his nightstand. The crimson bars spelled out the time— 2:48 AM. Exactly 3 hours and 12 minutes until you were safe. Exactly 3 hours and 12 minutes of fending off evil, haunted animatronics.

After you were absolutely positive that the sounds of breathing came from your boyfriend, you pulled the flashlight out from its hiding spot under your pillow. A soft click and the wall across from you brightened with a soft circle of white light. To avoid waking him, your exit from the bed was slow and discreet. A fair bit of wriggling later, and you were sitting on the floor at the foot of his bed.  Unbeknownst to you, his gaze was glued to your figure, annoyed.

Towards the door you sauntered, terrified. You’d held it closed at first, keeping your breathing as silent as possible. An ear pressed against the door made you sure that everything was silent. The hand you’d kept on the doorknob tensed up. While you were checking for monsters in the hall, Tsukki had risen from his spot on the bed. During his sluggish walk over to your shaking frame, you hand turned the metal knob. He raised a hand to turn you around just as you pulled open the door. Cue chaos.


You staggered, heart racing. To catch yourself from teetering, you fell back against the door, slamming it closed. Without hesitation, you went on the offense. The flashlight in your hand turned into your weapon as you started striking whatever it was that had came at you. Tears brimmed in your eyes as you fought.

“Don’t HURT him— don’t TOUCH him— I’M NOT GOING DOWN EAS—“


He ripped the flashlight from your grasp before switching the lights on on. You were met with the disgruntled face of the supposedly-sleeping Tsukki, not a murderous robotic animal. In turn, he was met with your terribly frightened features. Both of you stood for a few long moments, the air heavy with awkwardness and embarrassment— mostly on your part. A wave of relief hit you harder than anticipated; instead of speaking, your arms looped around his torso before you fell into his chest.

It all caught him off guard. There you were, weeping into his pajamas not even 30 seconds after fighting him like he was trying to slit your throat. Still, he was sympathetic to your plight. Large, calloused hands rubbed circles on your back, returning your embrace. They traveled down, past your hips, to hook around your thighs and hoist you up.

Kei’s grip loosened as he lowered you over the bed. He made sure to be gentle. After placing the flashlight back in its proper place and turning off the lights, he slipped into bed. You inched over to him, close enough that you could rest your head on his pillow. His arms wrapped around your waist this time, pulling you closer. He was the first to speak.

“Don’t hurt him?” His tone lacked the usual, teasing lilt. The phrase was festering in his mind since he heard it.

Of course, he didn’t think that his significant other would beat him upside the head with a flashlight. But, if anything, saving yourself would be the first thought when faced with a life or death situation. A, “Get away from me!” would’ve been acceptable. “Don’t touch me,” or even “Don’t kill me.” But you said, “Don’t hurt him,” and it burned him up.

It gave him butterflies that he wouldn’t ever get used to. He was your first thought. He was the reason you fought. He was so important to you, that you weren’t even concerned about yourself. And the pit of fluttery warmth it caused in his stomach multiplied tenfold when you curled up against his chest and gave a curt nod.

His soft voice cut through the silence once more, “Stupid. You should be more concerned about yourself.”

You pulled your face from his chest before responding: “I- I’m sorry, Tsukki. I’m sorry for hitting you, too..”

He tilted your face upward to give you a quick kiss on the forehead before running his fingers through your hair. In return, your fingers curled into the cotton of his nightshirt. The quiet hum that left his throat was enough to let you know he didn’t mind.

“I appreciate it, but next time leave the beating of imaginary animatronics to me.” Tsukishima wouldn’t admit it, but the fact like someone felt like he had to be protected almost bruised his ego, in a good way.

“What, like you could. You’d be eaten like the french fry you are!” The smile playing on your lips didn’t need to be seen to be known. He could hear it in the tone of your voice.

A comment was tossed back with a dry laugh. “Like you could do much better. You’re my strawberry, remember?”

“Uh-huh, okay. Whatever you say, trans fat.” You let out a small chuckle yourself, placing a tender kiss on his chin. It elicited a blush and a yawn.  

“Go to sleep. It’s 3AM. I’m tired.” Taking this as a sign of defeat, you pressed against him with care. He shifted, adjusting how his legs tangled with yours, moving the pillow, and relaxing his grip on your torso.

“Goodnight, Kei. I love you.”

“Goodnight, ____.”

You cuddled until you fell asleep, but…No one bothered to close the closet, or check what was lurking in it…

~ Admin Kii

Star Cycle

Chapter 6: White Dwarf

Chapters: 1 // 2 // 3 // 4 // 5 // 6 //

Chapter Summary: White Dwarf: a small very dense star that is typically the size of a planet. A white dwarf is formed when a low-mass star has exhausted all its central nuclear fuel and lost its outer layers as a planetary nebula.

Author’s notes: Y’all know who’s finally comin in. Y’all gotta know~ Also! The flashback in this chapter is based entirely off of this comic by the amazing @florbe-triz and hopefully I did that scene justice because it is absolutely one of my favorites. Also alsooooo, this fic will have a few more chapters before it reaches its completion but there’s a lot of material that I still have to cover so fret not! There will be SO. MUCH. SAP. 

As always, credit for this AU goes to @stickydoona and @cinensis! Bless their souls for being so perfect and making such a perfect AU. 

You can also read here at Ao3! 

Keep reading

Heartbeat Pt. 4

AO3 FF.N <- Can be read here as well.

Word Count: 2,025
Warnings:  Cursing
Notes: Y/F/N= Your Father’s Name

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 

Keep reading

DaddyLuke Imagine: Ballet Recital.

This long overdue imagine was requested by the bae, miss lukespenguin003, quite some time ago and I never got around to finishing it. But I finally have! Yay! Anyways I hope she and anyone else  who reads it enjoys it! And please let me know if it’s worth doing a part 2, I have plenty of ideas. I’m just not sure if you all would like to read them. So send feedback and request a part 2 if you’d like to read it! 

Luke’s POV

I remember thinking ‘I’ll just shut my eyes for a few moments.’ What could possibly be the harm in that right? I had been up for 48 hours, performing twice in front of a stadium audience and sitting through what seemed like endless string of interviews where they asked us nearly the same questions like 'who does the best with the ladies’ and 'why are you called 5 Seconds of Summer when there is only 4 of you’ and then immediately hopping onto a plane to fly halfway across the world all so I could see my little princess perform. It was her first dance recital, a major accomplishment for my talented little girl and a little normalcy to her life. And I wanted to be refreshed for it. I couldn’t be falling asleep. A moment’s rest couldn’t hurt, right?

Four hours later I wake up to eight missed calls, two voicemails, 15 text messages, and a shrieking child whose face appeared, at first glance, to be covered in blood. My heart nearly stopped as I scrambled out of bed to examine her. I haven’t even been home for a day and she’s already bleeding. I cup her face, looking for the source of the bleeding, and cannot find anything. And her blood its sticky and watery. I It turns out to be red popsicle, a major relief to me, but the temporary relief is flies out the window when I glance at the clock. 5:15. We were supposed to be at the dance hall across town 15 minutes ago.  “Shit. Shit. Shit,” I panic as I start scrambling about the room, looking for the suit I had packed to wear to her dance recital. “No swears daddy! No swears!” Haley scolds, pouting, and her lips, cheeks, and fingers still coated in sugary red syrup. “I’m sorry, princess! Daddy is just in a hurry. Why don’t you go quickly wash your face and hands, baby?” I reply frantically as a grab the closest button up shirt I could find. “Grammy said no swears!” She frowns, not moving from her spot. Pausing my frantic buttoning, I scoop her up and carry her into the bathroom whilst assuring her, “Daddy is very sorry! He just wants to get you to your performance.” I set her on the counter and quickly wash her face and hands, mentally berating myself for sleeping in so bloody late. “Daddy! I’m going to be a ballerina today!"She exclaims as I place her on the ground. "I know baby doll, and what do ballerinas wear? Can you show me what they wear?” I ask. 

To my delight, she takes my hint and goes running of the room, allowing me to finish buttoning my shirt and check my phone messages. They’re mostly from my mother, yelling at me about being late and gloating that she knew this would happen, which only increases my panic and guilt about the whole thing. It seems the harder I work at being a good father, the worse it comes along. Aleisha, her mother, was right about me, but that doesn’t matter. She’s not here. I am, and what matters right now is getting my little angel to the recital. 

Rushing out of my bedroom, I collect the items my mother had detailed in her message: my video camera, a dress for Haley’s celebratory dinner, and her backpack. After striking out all the items on the list, I grab my daughter, tuck her under my arm like an American football, and carry her to the car like a man on a mission. My neighbours stare as I frantically strap Haley into seat. “Daddy, where’s your pants?” She giggles. I look down to find myself in dressed entirely except for my pants. How on earth did I forget that, I ask myself as I rush back into the house to retrieve my dress pants.  

Y/N P.O.V. 

They were all accounted for except for one. Haley Hemmings, one of your most gifted dancers, is missing. You hope she isn’t sick or injured. As you walk around, watching all the mother’s prepare their children, you stumble into a conversation between a four of the mothers. 

“Liz is here already…and Haley isn’t. You know what that means, girls,” Rosalind, a blonde, type A mother of twins, winks. Automatically, you know who they are talking about, Haley’s father, Luke. He’s always been popular amongst the mothers of your dancers. “Why do you think I’m wearing this pushup bra? I came prepared!” the slender brunette, Kathy who is married to a divorce lawyer, laughs. “Oh, you’re so bad!” Rosalind giggles. “You’re married, Kathy!” Gina, mother of one girl, scolds while holding back a laugh. “Exactly. Do you think I’d look this good for my husband? No way,” Kathy whispers loudly to the rest of the girls, so the little girls running around wouldn’t here him. “He is so gorgeous and single and rich. My three favourite things,” Rosalind giggles. You shake your head, and begin to walk away unnoticed. “You shouldn’t talk about him like a piece of meat! Not after what he and his daughter have gone through,” Emma, mother of 6..three of which have been in your dance classes, scolds. 

This piques your interest. You pause and help one of the little girls with her hair while you listen. You had always prided yourself on being above the gossip, but just this once you couldn’t help it. You listen as Emma and the other mothers talk about how Luke’s wife left him when Haley was two. She had been cheating on him, and it destroyed him. Apparently, he had been running himself ragged, trying to manage being a father, husband, and lead singer of a massively popular band. Now with the help of his mother, Luke is somehow managing to be a single father and travel around the world. It really impressed you. Not because he was a merely single dad, but because he was a good one. Haley always talked about her father, more than any other girl in the class…more than any other girl you had around. She didn’t talk about his fame or wealth. She’d talk about their trips to the zoo, dance parties, and games to help her with homework. For someone who was travelling so much, Luke seemed to be around much more than most parents were. 

Suddenly the women stop talking and all of them turn their attention to the backdoor where a tall, flustered man in a dishevelled suit roots around in a backpack, desperately searching for something whilst he daughter greets some of her classmates. The mothers giggle and are about to approach him, when you step in. Maybe it was jealous. Maybe it was human decency. All you know is that you can’t let these horny housewives eat him alive. “It’s time for you all to get to your seats, please,” You say to all the mothers kindly as not to arouse suspicion. They glare at you, but obey you, leaving the poor man alone. 

Luke’s P.O.V. 

They have to be here somewhere. I could’ve sworn I packed them! They must be he-“Is there something I can help you with?” A sweet, saccharine voice says, interrupting me from my search. I look up to see a beautiful young woman in tights. It takes me a second to realize it’s Haley’s teacher and that I’m not imagining this. “I uh can’t seem to find her tights. I’m sure I packed them!” I say absentmindedly, sounding like an idiot. “Oh don’t worry I always keep spares,” She smirks, and temporarily leaves me to retrieve a pair of tights from her bag, “I always bring extras of everything. I lose things so often…I’d lose my head if it wasn’t attached.” I smile at her as she laughs. It’s infectious and entrancing, so much so that I almost do not notice a tugging at shirtsleeve. 

“Daddy,” Haley whines. I look down to see her eyes welled up in tears. “Don’t worry, baby. I got you tights! Here, go put them on!” I assure her, bending down to be at her level. “I don’t want to…” She pouts. “Why not?” “I’m scared, Daddy,” She cries as a little tear falls down her rosy cheek. She’s breaking my heart. I quickly wipe the tear away with my thumb, give her a quick kiss on the forehead, and smile, “Baby doll, wanna know a secret? I get scared too. When I go on stage in front of all those people, I get very scared…but do you want to know what makes me feel better?” She looks up at me with her big blue eyes, imploring me to tell her more. “You do, Haleybaley. I pretend I’m in the living room with you and grandma Liz singing and dancing, and all my fear goes away….so can you do that for me, baby doll?” I ask her. She nods, and I pull her into a big hug. It still amazes me that she is mine. She’s the most perfect person I’ve ever met. I knew that from the second I saw her, right after she was born. Once I had her in my arms, I knew my life had changed irreparably and nothing would be the same. It was the best thing that could have ever happened to me. She still is. 

Haley scampers off to put on her tights, and I suddenly feel quite self-conscious. Standing in front of her incredibly beautiful dance teacher in a haphazardly buttoned suit, untucked and sans tie. I stand up and awkwardly search for my tie whilst watching her dance teacher leave once again to organize the children backstage. Haley joins the line of girls in tutus, waiting to go on stage while I still struggle with my tie. 

“Need help with that?” Y/N asks, appearing out of nowhere. “Uh yeah that’d be great,” I reply as she gracefully steps towards me and starts fixing my tie. I joke, “You’ve saved me twice tonight!” “That’s what I do. Full-time dance teacher, part-time superhero,” She giggles, and then adds more seriously, “That was really great what you did there with Haley.” “Oh that was nothing. I was just being a parent.” “Well let me tell you…not many parents are that good at that. You’d be surprised what people say to their children, so it wasn’t nothing,” Y/N says, giving me a sweet, mind-numbing smile. “Th-th-thank you,” I stutter awkwardly, eliciting a small giggle from her. “It’s no problem.” “I’m sorry. I’m never this nervous usually. I mean I am always awkward, but I guess I’m just nervous about the recital and then you’re beautiful and I-” I start rambling before I am graciously cut off by someone calling Y/N’s name. “You’re really sweet, but I have to go. You should too. You need to get to your seat,” Y/N tells me as she starts walking away. “Alright, well I’ll see you after maybe?” I ask. “You just might,” She winks, leaving me momentarily breathless. 

After regaining my composure, I head to my seat where my mother, father, Ashton, Luke, and Michael are all waiting. “Look who finally decided to show up!” Calum teases, nudging my side as I take my seat between him and Ashton. “Where were you?” Ashton asks, as the curtain opens. Y/N takes the stage and starts her introduction to the recital. I can’t contain a smirk. “Someone’s hot for teacher,” Michael teases under his breath. “Shut up, Mikey,” I groan as she exits the stage and the music begins. From within a line of dancers, Haley appears on the stage and the boys go wild. “THAT’S MY NIECE!” Michael screams. “ WOOO YOU GO HALEY!!” Calum and Ashton echo. My mother whips her head around and glares at the guys as if to tell them to shut up. “Sorry mommy Hemmings,” Michael mutters with a laugh. 

As embarrassing as it is to admit it, I can barely contain my tears as I watch my little princess dance around the stage. She steals the show. No one else compares to her. All the boys agree too. She’s the best thing to happen to any of us. She’s my little angel. 

To be continued?