headcanons on how aku sleeps? like, position, number of pillows/blankets, what times, etc ^u^
//Akutagawa gets sleep in bits and pieces, fragmented through the day between work and occasional reprieves. He can sleep anywhere from the floor to a chair, to a wall that he can lean against - though calling it sleep is a loose interpretation. It’s sleep, in that his eyes are closed, perhaps he dozes off, catches the head of a dream - but he’s very easy to wake and once he’s up, he’s up - it’s why he can appreciate living with Gin; her steps are silent.
//When he manages to grab sleep in a bed, though, he nests. He never really got out of the habit of curling in on himself, tucking his body under whatever scrap of fabric he had to keep warm. He keeps his blankets tucked in around him, though he doesn’t sleep with a pillow. He’d just as soon tuck his face against the bed.
Y ¿no es precioso poder confiar por completo en otra persona? ¿ponerse completamente en sus manos, confiarle cualquier incertidumbre, cualquier duda, igual que estás haciendo tú conmigo? Me parece los más bonito del mundo.
How Gin could cause other Bleach characters to have mental breakdowns
As requested by anon. :)
Gin famously caused Rukia to have a mental breakdown by talking to her on a bridge for like two minutes…after which she just fell to her knees screaming. Because Gin is a shithead that way. But let’s say Gin decided to mess with other Bleach characters. What might he do to cause them to break down screaming?
1. Aizen: Copies Aizen’s hairstyle
One day Gin comes into work sporting a cool new hairlock. He says nothing about it. Just sits down.
Gin: [twiddling hairlock]
Gin: [twiddling hairlock]
Gin: [twiddling hairlock]
Aizen: OKAY ONE OF US HAS TO GO CHANGE AND IT WON’T BE FUCKING ME
Gin: 90 seconds! A personal best!
2. Hitsugaya: Implies that Hitsugaya is his son
Gin (to Tosen): So anyway, so I had this baby. Beautiful. White-haired. Only I couldn’t keep ‘im so I-
Gin: [pretends to notice Hitsugaya there]
Gin: [awkward silence]
Hitsguaya: Why did you stop talking when you saw me?
Gin: N-no reason, son……….ny boy.
Hitsugaya: WHY DID CALL MY SONNY BOY WITH SUCH A LONG PAUSE IN THE MIDDLE?!
Gin: Noooo reason at all!
Hitsugaya: I AM HAVING A PERSONAL CRISIS
3. Grimmjow: Just lays the “you’re a kitty” thing on really thick.
Gin: Grimmjow, Aizen says you have to wear this flea collar.
Gin: It’s just a precautionary measure - don’t be upset.
Gin: Also, here is a pamphlet on the dangers of catnip addictions.
Grimmjow: The hell?
Gin: Please stay calm.
Gin: I can scratch you behind the ears, if you want. Would you like me to?
Gin: You seem crabby. Did you not get your catnap today?
Grimmjow: I WILL PUNT YOU THROUGH A WINDOW
Gin: I’m counting it.
4. Soi Fon: Discusses…sensitive topics
Gin: You know, Aizen-sama has cameras all over the place. I have footage - lots of footage - of Urahara.
Soi Fon: Why should I care?
Gin: No reason, I suppose. I just thought - well, I just thought that you might want to know about the footage. Compromising footage. Footage that Urahara probably wouldn’t want Yoruichi to know about.
Gin: Because if she did…..well, it might make things tough for him.
Gin: I just thought you’d want to know. I could even show it to you, if you want.
Soi Fon: …
Soi Fon: Give it to me right now!
Gin: Oh dear! I’ve been called on my bluff! There’s no compromising footage! Urahara is perfect!
Soi Fon: …
Soi Fon: [screaming with rage]
Gin: Not bad, if I do say so myself.
5. Tosen: Does it in one sentence
Gin: Hey, Tosen, do you think that if you confessed your love to that friend of yours before she became a soul reaper, she might never have left and you two could have been happy together even now?
Gin: A personal best!
6. Byakuya: Implies….things about Hisana’s reincarnation
Gin: Have I ever told you Aizen-taicho’s theory about reincarnation?
Gin: Aizen believes that when a soul is reincarnated, it isn’t bound by linear time. Maybe it will be reincarnated in into the future (from our perspective), but maybe it will be reincarnated into the past. Or maybe even to the same time that soul was in when it died. So that the same soul could actually exist in two people at the same time.
Byakuya: Why are you telling me this, exactly?
Gin: Oh, just for interest! See, Aizen figured that if you see someone who looks exactly - or nearly exactly - like someone who has died, that could actually be the person who died. Reincarnated.
Gin: Of course, with no memories of her previous life, she would never feel the same way about you as you do about her.
Gin: And if you did anything to hurt her - like, say, nearly getting her executed, hypothetically - that would mean that you were hurting a person you love. Not to mention guaranteeing that her reincarnated life was just as shitty as her first life!
Gin: Food for thought, I guess!
Byakuya: I have to go. [flash steps away]
Gin: Aw, I was looking forward to hearing that scream.
7. Ulquoirra: Uses Disney
Gin: So…I hear that you want to understand the heart, Ulquiorra. I suggest you listen to this song.
Ulquiorra: “Let It Go”?
Ulquiorra: I have listened. I do not see the relevance.
Gin: Give it a few days!
[three days later]
Ulquiorra: I WILL CUT OUT MY OWN BRAIN IF THIS SONG DOES NOT STOP PLAYING OVER AND OVER AGAIN IN MY HEAD
Ulquiorra: OVER AND OVER AGAIN
Gin: Aaaand there it is!
8. Halibel: Brings up all the things
Gin: It must be unpleasant to think about how you joined Aizen in order to protect yourself and your fracciones, but all you did was get all of them hurt.
Halibel: [emotionless expression]
Gin: I mean, you didn’t even sacrifice them. They just got badly burned. For no reason. You probably need a hug over that one.
Halibel: [emotionless expression]
Gin: You probably hate Aizen. I could maybe help you get your revenge on him, if you want me to.
I just wanna hear you say you got me baby Are you mine?
He hadn’t expected to fall this hard for you.
You’d come into his life a flurry of colour and excitement and all of a sudden, you consumed his every thought and he couldn’t concentrate on anything other than the way your eyes shined when you smiled. He wasn’t supposed to fall in love at twenty one, he wasn’t supposed to be imagining and planning an entire life together when he still had the whole world at his fingertips, especially when he’d only just met you. But you turned that world upside down and he couldn’t believe how much one person could change the way he thought, the way he lived.
Not that he’d ever told you, of course.
Ashton was so scared of his feelings for you that he never spoke them aloud. In the three months you’d been, whatever this was, the closest you’d gotten to Ashton admitting his feelings was the smiles he sent you at one in the morning when the two of you were laughing at something completely stupid. Ashton was so closed off you had no idea what you were to him, and for all you kew, on the days he didn’t spend by your side he was with someone else doing exactly the same thing.
He wasn’t, but you didn’t know that.
Which was how you’d ended up here, drunk off your ass on his door step, a bottle of gin still in your hand. He cocked an eyebrow at you as he opened the door, any smirk that dared to tug at his lips vanishing when you speak.
“You’re an ass, Ashton Irwin.” You tell him, unable to stop swaying slightly but still managing to glare determinedly at him. “A complete and utter total ass.”
“And why’s that Baby?” He asked, grabbing your free hand and guiding you into his apartment. You yanked your hand back, stumbling slightly as you followed.
“Because you are.” You glare harder at him, letting out a noise of protest as he takes the gin from you. “Hey!”
“You’ve had enough.”
“Like you care.” You mumble, Ashton lifting an eyebrow again.
“What was that?” He asks, and suddenly you can’t stop the words tumbling from your mouth. You blame the gin.
“I said like you care. Because actually, I don’t know if you care. I don’t know if you care about me at all, or if I’m just another name to add to a list. I don’t know how you feel about me or us or whether there is an us at all. I don’t like the fact that I get butterflies when you call me baby because I don’t even know what it means, I don’t know if that every girl you see is Baby or if that’s reserved specially for me. In fact, I just wanna hear you say you got me Baby, because that’s what I want Ashton. I want you. Just you. Which is why you’re an ass, because I don’t know if you feel the same or not. Because I’m yours Ashton, I’m yours.” You’re silent for a moment, before looking up at him, trying desperately to read his reaction. “Are you mine?”
He slams his lips to yours, hands tangling in your hair as yours clutch at his shirt, trying to tell you everything he’d been thinking, everything he’d been feeling, that he was too scared to share before. As you pull away, a little breathless and slightly dizzy, although that could still be the gin, he rests his forehead to yours, eyes searching your own as he responds to your earlier question.
“Baby, I’ve always been yours.”
Mad sounds in your ears They make you get up and dance
He remembers the first time he saw you do it.
It was a little after two am, the two of you still wide awake despite the hour. You hadn’t been together for long, maybe only three months or so, and he’d gone to the bathroom, only to return to find you not sitting on the couch like you had been, but dancing to the music only you could hear, the rest of his flat seemingly silent. You didn’t notice at first, a small smile painted on your face as you twirled to the sounds in your ears and not his, until you catch his eye, stopping abruptly. A blush paints your cheeks, but your smile still remains.
“What you doing Princess?” He asks, smirking as he moves forward, hands falling to your hips as you shrug.
“Sometimes I get the urge to dance.” You admit, not meeting his eyes at first. “I just…I hear music I guess, well not music, just sounds, and they make me want to dance.”
“That’s cool.” He smiles at the way your shoulders drop in relief, looking up at him with a grin. “Dance away Princess, I won’t stop you.”
Over the years, he becomes so used to your dancing that it doesn’t phase him in the slightest when he comes home to see you moving around the house. He thinks it’s one of his favourite things about you, the little dances that were littered through your life. It didn’t take him long to figure out when they were about to start, the way your smile changed ever so slightly to one which was slightly more peaceful, the way your eyes shone a little lighter before your feet began to move. Michael knew when the sounds only you could hear had begun, he knew and he loved them for the way they made you happy, even if it was a bit mad.
He remembers the first time he came home to find your daughter dancing in the same way.
He leant against the door frame with a grin, watching the two of you whirl around the kitchen, identical looks of joy on your faces. Admittedly, Poppy was only two at the time, but he could see the way she was smiling, and he was no stranger to thaat look.
So when he fond her dancing silently around her room at age five, he was’t surprised. In fact, he was rather happy.
“What you doing Pop?” He asks, his words almost identical to those he’d asked you so many years ago.
“Just dancing.” She grins up at him, looking so much like you that his hear swells at the sight. “Like Momma.”
“Like Momma.” He nods with a smile, leaning down to ruffle
her hair softly. “Well don’t let me stop you, carry on.”
Michael was never going to
understand how it happened; how you could just hear something no one else could
that instantly forced you onto your feet to dance. He didn’t know why or how it
happened, or even what the sounds themselves sounded like; whether they were
musical or just a random collection of noises in your ears.
But what Michael did
understand was that it made you happy. He saw it in the way you smiled and in
the way you relaxed when you danced. He saw it in the way your daughter,
throughout her life, was so similar to you that sometimes you danced together,
making him wonder if the sounds you heard were the same. Michael didn’t care,
as long as his girls were happy, that’s what was important.
And if mad sounds were the
solution, then he wasn’t going to question it.
When you waltz around your house wearing my sky blue Lacoste And your knee socks
In later life, if someone
were to ask him how he knew you were the one, he thinks he’d choose this
This moment; where the sun
set a long time ago and the stars are probably lighting the sky up above the
city but neither of you can see, because you’re more than content with staying
in the apartment just the two of you, the time no longer important.
This moment; where Luke is on
break and doesn’t have to worry about what city he’s jetting off to tomorrow
and where you’ve finished school and are free to spend your summer how you
please, where you know for the foreseeable future you have each other to be
wrapped up in.
This moment; where your make
up is slightly smudged and your hair is a complete mess, but to Luke you’ve
never looked more beautiful thanks to the grin plastered on your face that
steals the breath from his lungs and lights up the otherwise dim apartment.
This moment; where you’re
wearing nothing but Luke’s sky blue shirt that he hasn’t worn in years and a
pair of knee socks he didn’t know you owned and he’s simply wearing his sweats,
the two of you comfortably casual for the evening’s activities.
This moment; when Oasis’
Morning Glory is the soundtrack to your dance that is far too gentle to be anything
other than a waltz, although Luke marvels at how you’re dancing on your own as
he sits on the sofa watching you with a fond smile.
This moment; where Luke thinks
he’s never been more in love with you.
“You could dance with me you know.” You smirk at him,
leaning down to steal the beer from his hand and taking a sip yourself, placing
it on the table beside him before dragging him to his feet. “Instead of just watching
“You looked like you were
doing fine on your own.” He chuckles, allowing you to pull him into the space
in front of him with his hands on your hips and yours on his neck. “Didn’t want
to come along and hinder you.”
“And how would you be a hindrance?”
“Has no one ever warned you about
how terrible my dancing is?”
“Calum mentioned it once. And
Ashton. And Michael, come to think of it.” Luke rolls his eyes at your reply,
but can’t do anything to stop the way his heart beat increases at the sight of
your grin. “But I think you’re doing alright.”
“I mean you’re no Billy
Elliot.” You smirk, a burst of laughter falling from Luke’s lips that only
encourages your smile. “But I guess you’ll do.”
He studies your face then,
trying to memorise the exact colour changes in your eyes and the angle at which
your nose tilts up. He tries to carve your smile into his brain so that even
when he was on the opposite side of the world from you, all he needed to do was
close his eyes and he could see it again, even if it was just for a little
“What are you staring at?”
Your words pull him from his mind, your eyebrows raised slightly. “Do I look
“The opposite.” He shakes his
head, grinning down at you. “I was just trying to remember how beautiful you
look right now.”
“I look like a raccoon.” You laugh,
and the sound is so beautiful Luke wants to immortalise it as a melody in his
next song. “A raccoon that’s been crawling through several bushes at that.”
“A beautiful raccoon.”
“Guess I’m just lucky you
love raccoons.” You smirk, and he shrugs, your laugher fills the room once more.
And it makes Luke confident
that this is the moment he’d describe.
Left you multiple missed calls and to my message you reply, Why’d you only call me when you’re high?
You didn’t even react when you checked
your phone and saw it.
It wasn’t unusual, waking up to find
Calum’s name displayed on your screen, the small bracketed number telling you
exactly how many times he’d called you the night before.
Today, it was seven.
Except it wasn’t just the missed calls
today. Because above the notification that stated that Calum had been
repeatedly calling you was one which informed you he’d also text you, clearly determined
to tell you something. You sigh, sliding it along your screen in order to read
it, unlocking your phone in the process.
Angel come over I miss you
This time, you roll your eyes. It had
been eight months since your break up with Calum. Eight months since you’d last
seen him. Eight months of missed calls.
Well, seven months of missed calls.
The first time he rung, a little less
than a month than the break up, you’d answered blindly, thinking it was an
emergency. In reality, Calum was so high he could barely form a coherent sentence,
the only word that was understandable being Angel. You’d hung up and muted your
phone, which was how it remained most evenings now.
Staring at the message, you sigh before
giving in and replying, although it was anything but the loving one he wanted.
Why do you only call me when you’re high?
You send it and to your surprise, it
instantly tells you Calum has read it. Seconds later your phone begins to ring,
and despite yourself, you answer.
“What?” Your response is clipped and you
can picture him flinching.
“It’s the only time I get the courage to
talk to you.” Its first time you’ve properly heard his voice in eight months
and your heart plummets. Because Calum sounds more broken than he did when you
left him, and you realise maybe you weren’t the only one hurting. “Except now.
I’m not high and I’m calling you now.”
“First time in eight months.” You mumble
back, settling down further into your bed. “So you better say something
“No one’s called me that in eight months.”
There’s a lift in his tone at your slip of the tongue. You want to curse yourself,
but you can’t, not with the way he sounds happier. “I just wanted to say…Well I
wanted to say a lot of things. I wanted to say I’m sorry for being a jerk. I
wanted to say I wasn’t the only one to blame. I wanted to say I want you back
and I love you. I wanted to say that I never want to see you again and that I
hate you. I wanted to say you were the best thing to happen to me, and I wanted
to say you were the worst. But most of all, I wanted to say that almost half of
that was completely and utterly false, because no matter how much time passes
and how much hatred you gain for me, I still find myself searching for
you in the faces of strangers.”
It feels like all of the air in your
lungs has been stolen by his words, rendering you speechless and unable to
breath. It takes you a while to be able to formulate a response, and Calum’s
almost given up by the time you manage to whisper the words.
“Do you promise you aren’t high right
“Angel.” He breathes out, almost a sigh. “I
have never been more sober.”
“Okay.” You nod, even though he can’t see
There’s a silence again, this time much
shorter before. And then Calum takes a deep breath, and you realise it’s now or
“I’m home. You want to come over?”
And for the first time in eight months,
you allow yourself to say yes to him.
Siento curiosidad y dolor por todo el tiempo que he perdido, que nos hemos perdido, por todo lo que no he visto de ella, todas sus lágrimas, sus sonrisas y sus alegrías, sus momentos de felicidad sin mí.
“Nessuno fa caso all'acqua che evapora dopo le piogge, quando torna il sole, poco importa se in quell'acqua ci sono anche le lacrime spese a piangere per amore, per dolore, l'acqua evapora torna nell'aria e torna nei nostri polmoni respirando il vento che ci investe il viso e le lacrime tornano dentro di noi come le cose che abbiamo perso, ma nulla si perde davvero, ogni secondo che passa, ogni luna che sorge non fanno altro che dirci vivi, vivi e ama quello che sei comunque tu sia, ovunque tu sia, ovunque tu sia guarda in alto verso il sole chiudi gli occhi e non stancarti mai di sognare. Gin la vita è troppo breve per non essere felici insieme.” 🌺