tired of reading stuff like this

ok but why do people have to trash others and tell them stuff like ‘Oh maybe you should read more comics with so and so before making posts’ and stuff? There are HUNDREDS of comics out there, HUNDREDS, like you literally cannot read all of them unless you’re like totally driven in which case go you. Some people can’t access comics either. Don’t go saying stuff like ‘oh read more comics with so and so ugh’ bc that, is just rude. You could always recommend comics to people, which is hella cool!! But saying it in that way is not an okay approach. Especially to younger fans.


Also before this gets out of hand, no this isn’t a vague post. It’s just something i’ve been noticing and it’s just really unfair to do.

anonymous asked:

I'm so, so tired of the "aro/ace are modifiers" thing. Some people use them as modifiers? Great ! Honestly, let them do whats best for them. But it also can be an *orientation*. It doesnt modify anything for me. It just describes who i'm attracted to. I dont get why so many people cant understand this. I feel like crap everytime I read stuff like "its valid but its not an orientation ;) ;)". Thanks for your blog, i wish you and your dog a great day !

My aromanticism and asexuality are in constant strife, fighting an eternal battle to determine which one modifies the other. I can not have an orientation because whenever I try to announce it my form flickers and temporarily disappears. There has been no winner yet. There never will be a winner. I tiredly gaze at the horizon. Planets are modified rocks

thedaydreamingotaku  asked:

*shyly opens door* hello~ Can i get a "you're pretty good at drawing" story for any of the slbp lords :3 btw congrats on having 400 in 2 months that's amazing :OOO

thank you!! hope you like it!


“That’s very pretty.”

She was startled out of her reverie. She had been so engrossed with brush and paper that she hadn’t noticed him inching towards her. Too tired to focus on reading in the flickering candle light, she had opted to entertain herself with art while waiting for him to finish his paperwork.

“Oh, I was just messing around…” She demurred, shaking her head with a faint smile on her face.

“No, no. I specialise in beautiful things, so I should know. You’re very good at this.” Kenshin stroked her cheek gently.

“It’s nothing. I liked drawing when I was a child, before I was big enough to be allowed in the kitchen.” She kissed his palm affectionately, then nuzzled her face against it.

“Then will you draw more for me?” He tapped her nose with a fingertip playfully, and she wrinkled it at him in response. She smiled.

“Of course, if it will make you happy.”

anonymous asked:

Just a random follower, but I wanted to say that I think many introspective people have these doubts about their life from time to time (I know I do), and it's easy to feel like you don't "measure up" to some arbitrary standard, but your life isn't empty: think about how many people you have made happy and brought joy to over the years just with your gifsets and posts on this site. What an impact! And you have friends and family that love you dearly (& you're taking care of your family too!)

Anon, you are definitely not a random follower, you’ve not just taken the time to read that post but written to me a message that sounds very earnest. Thank you for doing this, really. I feel ridiculous to even have those thoughts, and at the same time I have them and they bother me so i’m left tired because it’s like too much contradiction. I could never imagine making gifs and stuff could leave an impact… it just honestly never crossed my mind because it just feels so insubstantial… so fickle… But I know you are right, my friendly part of my brain knows it, so thank you again for saying this. It helps, it will help.

I hate it when people say technology is taking away kids’ childhoods
If anything, it’s actually giving kids more of an opportunity to let their imagination out

A lot of times when I let kids play on my phone, they go for the drawing app.
I watched a girl on the bus write a silly poem about her friends and then laugh as she made Siri read it
I hear children say to their friends “hey, FaceTime me later” because they still want to talk face to face even when they’re far away.
I see kids sitting, who would feel lonely and ignored if it weren’t for the fact that they’re texting their friends who are far away.
Children still climb trees. They might just take a selfie from the top to show off how high they’ve gotten.
They can immediately read the next book of their favorite series on their Kindles.
Most kids would still be up for a game of cops and robbers. Or maybe they’d google rules to another game they haven’t played yet.
When children wonder why the sky is blue, they don’t get an exasperated “I don’t know” from tired adults. They can go on Wikipedia and read about light waves and our atmosphere.
They show off the elaborate buildings they created on Minecraft.

Technology isn’t ruining childhoods, it’s enhancing them.

[shot of pidge playing overwatch. the team she’s on has just lost horrendously]

pidge: gg guys

[confession booth]

pidge: (to the camera) i always make sure to say ‘gg’ at the end of the game

cameraman: (off camera) even when it’s not a good game?

pidge: what? oh, no, i’m not saying ‘good game’, i’m saying ‘get gay.’ well, i’m also kind of saying ‘get good’, but ‘gay’ and ‘good’ pretty much mean the same thing in my book.

pidge: ‘gg’ can also mean ‘good gay’. keith and i like to say that every time we pass each other in the hallway.

(shot of pidge walking through the hallway. she passes by keith, who is holding a small alien)

keith: oh, hey pidge. gg

pidge: gg to you too my dude

LUCID DREAMING: HOW TO

SO LUCID DREAMING!!  

Some people asked because of my TONGUE IN CHEEK POST about it the other night, well!!! all it is, is being consciously aware that you’re dreaming. You can kinda train your brain to do it and it’s fukken awesome ok!  I learned from a bunch of books I got out from the library one summer back in high school and I have kept up all the habits since then until shit got weird but we don’t talk about that

sometimes you get to a point where you can control your dream and force yourself to dream about a certain thing . either way it’s really damn neat to just have conscious awareness while you’re asleep and if nothing else, it’s something fun to do that doesn’t cost anything.

I got into it a few years before Inception came out, if you can believe it. So when that movie came out talking about the same ideas my mind was  blown 

First things first:

1) DREAM RECALL:

This is your ability to actually remember your dreams. Because imagine, even if you end up having a lucid dream,  what’s the point if you completely forget it as soon as you’re awake? Some people think they don’t dream anymore but it isn’t true, everyone dreams. Some people just don’t remember.

So Write down  all your dreams, anything that you can remember as soon as you wake up.

I just text it to myself first thing in the morning and usually they’re super disjointed and barely readable but it’s just enough to have me remember them again. even if you can only remember little snippets, the more you do this the better you can get at remembering.

2) DREAM CUES

Dream cues are these little things that make you realize you’re asleep because they differ between reality and your dreams. They’re kind of like triggers that will make you realize you’re dreaming. The idea is to check in on these cues even when you’re awake, so that when it becomes a habit in real life, it will become a habit when you’re asleep.

It’s also a good way to check if you’re actually awake because sometimes dreams are super realistic. I’ve had a lot of dreams where I woke up in my bed, then did the reality check only to figure out I was dreaming.

Different people have different ones but there’s some common ones:

-mirrors: In real life you look like yourself. in a dream you’ll look like a really distorted version of yourself or like a completely different person. I don’t recommend this one because what you see in the mirror might freak you out into just waking up lol

-counting your fingers and seeing more or less than the amount of fingers you have

-electronics that don’t work

-text that changes when you read it, look away and then read it again

-dim lights [i hate light dimmers for this reason eugh]

-loose teeth

My personal ones are the and fingers and the changing text! So in real life, I count my fingers, and read some text, look away and read it again to see if it changes.

If I have more than 5 fingers, I realize I’m asleep and that’s where the lucid part starts.

Personally for me, all of these have served as dream cues, but these two are the ones that i literally check on. Another big one for me is if my teeth are loose, it’s an automatic cue for knowing I’m asleep.

INDUCING A LUCID DREAM

So you made a habit out of checking in on your dream cues and writing down your dreams. Now how do you actually do this thing….

There are some REALLY SPECIFIC METHODS To inducing a lucid dream . Some people practice one method that brings you from wakefulness directly into a dream, with NO LOSS OF CONSCIOUSNESS. I find this a little rarer but it’s definitely happened to me

Others have the method where you fall asleep as usual, end up in a dream, and then your consciousness wakes up while you’re in the dream. This is more common I think.

my sleep science might be off but this is it as I’ve understood it.

so the general method is to go to bed super early. like 9pm. And set your alarm for Stupid O Clock. I am talking some ungodly hour that you will never be up, like 4:30.

Reason being: You will literally never go to sleep and immedeitly start dreaming. You have to have been asleep for a few hours, having gotten a few sleep cycles in. The longer you sleep, the deeper your sleep cycles run and the more restful sleep you’ll have as the night goes on. It’s only in the later sleep cycles that you start to dream.

This is the reason you’re groggy in the morning [you were just in the middle of your deepest sleep cycle] but not groggy at all if you wake up at like 12

So the goal is to wake up right before you’re gonna go into a deep sleep cycle.

Stay awake for a few minutes, go to the bathroom or something, read some stuff on lucid dreaming on your phone… You want to wake up your brain so that your mind is conscious and running even though you’re dead tired.

Now you can go back to sleep, and the conditions are pretty much met for having a lucid dream.

SO GENERALLY NOW, it’s really likely that you’re gonna have a regular dream.

But if you’ve been making a habit out of doing your dream cues/reality checks while you’re awake, at some point you’re gonna do it while you’re asleep.

stuff from the waking world carries over into dreamtown. it’s the same reason you’ll have super realistic dreams about your job or people you know.

IT’S ACTUALLY SUPER COOL When you do your dream-cues and you see different results from real life. Like I’ll count my fingers and realize there’s 6 of them and be like Ohhh shit! I’m asleep! Time to go wild.

Usually I just fly around like a motherfucker but it’s so cool to be your exact same self who is able to think about your family/friends/homework/life/memes except you’re flying

CONTROLLING THE DREAM

OK SO NOW THAT YOU’RE AWAKE while dreaming, you can  try controlling your dream. This is a bit harder to explain but in my opinion it’s as easy as focusing/dwelling on what you want to do..kind of like repeating a mantra mentally.

Like lets say you’re dreaming and you come across a house. As you’re walking towards it, tell yourself “Captain Kirk is in this house and we’re gonna have the time of our damn life.” TELL YOURSELF WITH CONVICTION! BELIEVE IT! CAPTAIN KIRK IS IN THE HOUSE! OVER AND OVER!

also try practising controlling on little things first. Like point to the sky and say “brighter” or “more purple” or “bluer” or think “I want it to be night time instead" and it SHOULD change.

STAYING IN THE DREAM

There’s 2 tricks I know of that will keep you in a dream for longer when you feel like you’re about to wake up and you don’t want to.

One is spinning: If you feel yourself waking up, try spinning around on the spot till you’re dizzy. Things will blur around you and then they will clear up and get super sharp! Especially spinning while crouching. I have no idea why this works, but it does and others have said the same thing.

The other is, when you feel like things are getting blurry, focus on ONE spot in the dream. I usually crouch and like, stare at the details and texture of the road really really close up. For some reason, pinpointing your focus on one little thing will refocus the dream.

finally,

READ UP!!

Honestly the more you read about lucid dreaming, the more likely you are to have one for yourself..Even by reading this you’re more likely to have one. It’s weird, but it works. When I would regularly read books on the topic they’d say the same thing and it was true. It’s kind of like, the fact that you’re aware that it can happen makes it likely to happen..

SO YEAH, before you go to sleep or when you wake up at 4 in the morning, google it, see what others have to say. Get your brain in gear for it. there’s lots of posts online that will probably talk about the same stuff that I have here but this is my legit personal experience with it and stuff over the years.

IN SHORT

  • DO YOUR DREAM CUES/REALITY CHECKS
  • WRITE DOWN YOUR DREAMS
  • SET YOUR ALARM FOR A REALLY DUMB TIME!!
  • HAPPY DREAMING

I get…unsettled, when people read my health stuff and message me with things like “man I thought my issues with X were bad, I’ll never complain again” cause like, no. That’s not how this works. Pain is both relative and subjective, and Your pain is valid too.

People with chronic health issues spend their whole lives trying to be validated, by friends, family, and yes the medical community too. Every interaction to do with our health involves someone thinking we’re lying or exagerating our symptoms for sympathy because they just can’t conceive of what it’s like to never not be sick, or tired or in pain. They have not paid witness to that very particular form of personal hell, which is a doctor telling you they don’t know how to help you.

Just because someone has something which you perceive to be worse, doesn’t negate your illness, and doesn’t mean you can’t bitch about it if bitching will make you feel better.

And just ‘cause my dental stories sound like excerpts they left out of the SAW movies for being too traumatizing, doesn’t mean you aren’t also going through Some Shit.

We’re all in this Hell together, some of wading through more fire than others. But there shouldn’t be a single person with chronic illness who looks at another person and thinks, you know, I don’t think you’ve suffered enough, come back and talk to me when you’ve swam through lava.

But I know some do. And lemme tell you something, that mindset: is horseshit.

Others might try to compete with you and play the suffering Olympics, but you’ll never find that here. I will never ever tell someone they haven’t suffered enough to deserve sympathy and compassion.

Unless you’re the asshole who responds to migraine sufferers with “yea I get bad headaches too have you tried drinking more water”, in which case you fucking fuckers can fuck right off.

The rest of us? Nah fam, come on in. We can swap stories and lean on each other when we have to.

Lord knows we need all the support we can get.

In regard of the last platonic post i reblogged tbh i want a Platonic Week for the ML fandom

I’ve been reading this ‘humans are wierd’ stuff, and I think to myself:

Refrences.

Example:
It’s a really early morning, everyone’s tired. Then one of the three humans runs into the cafeteria, where EVERYONE is (since the ship is on autopilot), and screams “WHAT TEAM?!?” and the other two humans, one’s alone in a corner, the other’s in a group of buddies, reply “WILDCATS” and then everyone’s wide awake and the humans walk out high-fiving and all the aliens are like “…. What the tiwanoyip…?”

Another one:
Alien: “Human-Kate, What is–”
Human: “The function of a rubber duck??”
Alien: “Er… No…” *thinks* ’ What the xenophorp does she mean by that?? ’

Again:
Alien: *annoyed by a species that they’re trying to examine* “For the planet of- You’re–”
Humans(3 of them): “YOU’RE KILLING ME, SMALLS”
Alien: *very quietly, Intimidated and afraid* “what..?”

Also: Alien Swear Words. Because, Come on. EVERYONE has swear words. Just think about it. (I replaced Hell with 'xenophorp’ and Fuck with 'tiwanoyip’)

The whole James Roberts/Megatron controversy is wayyy overblown and people are treating James Roberts like he’s writing Megatron as if he never did anything wrong but let’s not forget the following points:

Keep reading

Waiting

Draco was tired of waiting.

He came to the conclusion that waiting was the biggest waste one could do with his life.

And he had wasted a lot of his life already. Waiting.

He had waited for his father to acknowledge him, to show him he was proud of his son.

He had waited for his mother to stand up to his father, whenever he had talked her down, whenever he had treated her like less than his wife.

He had waited for his friends to come to his rescue when he had needed them most, to save him from himself.

And he had waited for the stupid prat to notice him. Really notice him. To look beyond the petty insults and his sneering.

For years Draco had been waiting.

He had waited in vain. But not anymore.

Draco was sick of waiting.

What had he even waited for? For him to come to the right conclusion, when Draco hid his true intentions so well? For him to realise what was really going on?

He probably would have to wait forever.

No. He would have to take matters into his own hands. And whyever should he not?

Yes, it was time to act.

Draco focused on the mop of black hair across the Great Hall.

He was sick of waiting.

He got up, marched over to the Gryffindor table and grabbed Potter by his robes. Without waiting for his reaction, Draco started dragging him out of his seat.

There was a yelp and shouts of protest, but Draco didn’t care.

He was so sick of waiting.

“Malfoy, what are you doing?” Potter shouted, shoving at Draco’s hands.

Draco ignored him and dragged him out of the Great Hall.

He could hear Weasley and Granger shout something at him. He heard footsteps behind him, indicating that several people were following him. Potter was still trying to get out of his grip.

Draco had wanted to find a more secluded place to do what he wanted to do next, but when the shouts behind him only got louder, he turned around and glared at them.

“You want to watch? FINE! I don’t even care anymore!”

He tightened his grip on Potter’s robes as he pulled him towards him forcefully.

Because he was so tired of waiting.

His mouth crashed with Potter’s and suddenly everything went silent.

Draco had thought it would be rougher, that Potter would try to fight him more. Apparently he was just shocked. He stiffened as Draco moved his lips against the other boy’s. He buried his hands in his hair like he had dreamed of so many times.

He had waited for this so long. This was it.

Or was it?

Draco suddenly noticed Potter moving and braced himself to be pushed away at any second. Instead, tentative fingers curled around his hips to pull him closer.

Draco was sure there were gasps and murmuring, but he didn’t hear any of it.

His whole mind, his whole body was so consumed by Potter. Potter, who was kissing him back.

Yes. This was what he had been waiting for all this time.

If only he had stopped waiting sooner.

Every Second of Everyday (Dan Howell x Reader)

Originally posted by shinyphan

Hey guys! I’m finally on break and finals are over! (thank lord jesus) so now I will be posting a lot more than I have been so I hope you enjoy and happy holidays!

xxx Megan

——————————————————————————————-

Dan’s POV


 I miss her every second of everyday. I can’t help but wonder what she is doing and most nights I end up punching a pillow or screaming at the top of my lungs thinking about how I treated her. Thinking about how she left one night in tears. Thinking about the disgusting words that left my mouth that I would constantly throw her way. Guilt couldn’t even begin to describe the feeling that was devouring me when I thought about the fear in her eyes every time we were argue. 

 Y/N had left 2 years ago. I could never blame her though. I treated her with such disgrace and constantly regret everything I did to her. At first we were fine, an average happy couple, but then my career exploded and stress was running my life. And unfortunately I would take out all my stress and anger on her. Every night we bickered about something for a good 3 months. Then the bickering formed into top of the lungs screaming at each other until one of us ended in tear or had lost the will to fight anymore. The worst part is she was the one who stopped almost every single time. She was the one trying to desperately fix us and put us back together. And me being the dick I was just decided to ignore her and push her even farther. The night I came home and saw our bedroom only filled with my stuff didn’t surprise me at all. Hell I wasn’t even upset. That was until about a month later where I found the letter in her old underwear drawer.

 Dan,

 I bet you will either throw this in the bin, set it on fire or not even bother to read it but yet here I am writing it anyway. I’m tired. Dan I’m so tired of you complaining about shit and not even realize that the most important thing was broken. Dan Howell I love you so much and I feel like I always will but you are not willing to fight for the most valuable thing in my life. Us. If you’re not going to try to fight then I guess I should just give up too. I know it’s a shitty thing to just pack up and leave but I was already bawling writing this and I have to leave. If I talk to you in person you will make me stay and I can’t keep doing this. We’re broken. I’m broken. I’m done and so is our relationship. I can’t say I wouldn’t miss you holding me or kissing me or even looking at me cause we both know I’d be lying but I am doing this for you. You’re obviously caught up in work right now and I know how much stress and frustration you have bottled up and I know I’m just an obstacle in the way. I love you so much baby and I hope you have a good life without me getting in the way.

xxx Y/n

 I punched a hole in my wall that day. Anger filled my veins at the thought of her crying over an asshole like me, making her think she was justing getting in the way of my life. I loved her with everything I had and still do and yet I left her feeling broken and worthless. I miss her every second of every day. 

 I was currently laying in my bed, alone, staring at a picture of a beautiful couple. It was a tall, dark haired boy smiling down at a perfect girl with y/h/c. He gazed at her lovingly as her eyes were squeezed shut with a wide opened mouth on her face laughing at a dorky joke the boy had tolded her moments before. This was my favorite picture of us. We both looked so innocent and in love. So happy. My thoughts were interrupted as there was knock on my bedroom door.

 “Dan?” I heard Phil questioned on the other side of the door.

 “Yes?” I spoke weakly as I heard the door creak slightly. I heard a sigh escape his lips ashe walked over to me removing the photo from my hands.

 “Still thinking about y/n?” He spoke quietly as I nodded slightly. He frowned slightly looking at the picture shaking his head slightly. Y/n and Phil were so close when we were dating. Besides me she would tell Phil everything but since the letter neither of us had seen her. 2 years she had walked out of our lives and yet both of us remember it like it was just yesterday. Phil shook his head setting the frame down as he gave me a small smile. “Wanna go to the store with me? Get your head off things?” Nothing could make me stop thinking about her. 

 “Sure Phil.” I smiled slightly as I sat up from the bed.



Your POV


 I strolled down aisle 3 searching for eggs. pushing my cart slowly.  My eyes scanned as I felt my phone vibrate in my pocket. I grabbed it quickly answering the phone call, not glancing at the caller ID already knowing who was calling. 

 “Hi honey.” I spoke still looking for the eggs.

 “WHERE ARE YOU?” His phone boomed through the phone causing me to wince slightly

 “A-at the store. We ran out of eggs and the recipe calls for 2…”

 “You knew all my colleagues were coming over at 7 and I told you to have dinner ready by then!” Ryan’s voice was demanding and loud as I reached down finally finding a carton of eggs.

 “All of it’s done except for the cake you specifically asked for!” I spoke harshly into the phone setting the cartons in the cart.

 “Don’t you dare use that tone with me young lady.” He hushed into the phone causing me to roll my eyes.

 “Okay Dad I’m gonna go now see you at home.” I hung up before he could say anything else. Ryan was my fiance, a well paid, intelligent doctor who thinks he is better than anyone who is younger or earns less money than him. Me being 2 years younger and a mediocre photographer makes him feel twice as powerful towards me. We had been dating for a year and a half and to say we weren’t in love with each other is an understatement. The only reason we were getting married was because his parents loved me and told him to “claim me”. Being the suck up he is of course he proposed. And me being the most awkward person just happened to say yes. I was so busy trying to place my phone back in my pocket I didn’t realize I was walking I ran face first into someone’s chest.

 “Sorry about that love.” A thick british accent spoke causing my breath to hitch. I’d know that voice anywhere. 

 I lifted my head up slightly to look at the stranger’s face as I met a pair of two familiar brown eyes.

 “D-Dan?”



Dan’s POV



 “D-Dan?” Her voice squeaked out causing me to freeze. It was her. Here. RIght in front of me.

 “Y-n?” She gave me a polite smile as she looked down at her feet, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, biting her lip, like she always did when she was nervous. I just wanted to pull her lip from her teeth and kiss her. But I’ll I could do was shuffle awkwardly and place my hands in my pockets.

 “H-how you been?” She asked quietly as her beautiful y/e/c eyes met mine once again.

 “I’ve been better…” I gulped as I saw a streak of guilt fill her eyes. “How about you? How are your photos doing?” She smiled slightly as she nodded slightly.

 “I finally got a job. Somebody saw one of the pictures and fell in love with it so they asked me to join their company.” I grinned at her happily. She had always been struggling trying to get her dream job but I had always told her she could do it. That was until all we did was fight…

 “See! I told you you could do it!” I spoke happily causing her to giggle. Oh how I had missed that sound. “What picture was it?” I saw her face freeze before she whispered 

 “The one of you and I…” I opened my mouth to speak when I heard another voice chime in.

 “Dan I found the… y/n?!” I heard y/n squeal as I saw her jump into Phil’s arms

 “Philly!” 

 I felt a pain in my heart as I watched them hug before she pulled away. Phil looked at her gleaming as he suddenly noticed something that I hadn’t.

 “Are you engaged…?” My eyes immediately darted to her left ring finger where a sparkling diamond ring sat. No. I thought to myself. She can’t be. That should be MY engagment for her. I felt my heart physically break as nausea took over my stomach as I saw her nod slowly. She looked down at her finger before looking up to meet Phil’s gaze again. I felt my eyes become glossy as I looked down at my shoes rapidly blinking trying to keep from crying. Phil seemed to notice my pain as he quickly spoke up. 

 “Congratulations! Well Dan and I should be headed out. We have a bunch of editing to do tonight and we have to watch some new anime episodes as such.” I looked up to see y/n gazing at me sadly as she nodded understandingly. She pulled Phil into another tight hug before turning to me and opening her arms slightly. I wrapped my arms around her petite figure as she hugged me tightly. Her vanilla perfume filled my nostrils as she squeezed me tightly. She pulled away slightly before waving a small wave smiling a little. 

 “Bye guys.” Her sweet voice filled my ears one last time before I saw her turn and continue walking the opposite way. I felt a small tear fall from my eye as Phil placed a hand on my shoulder squeezing in reassurance. 

 “I’m sorry Dan….” He spoke softly causing me to shake my head and wipe my tears.

 “Don’t be…” I spoke, “I’m the one who left her go…”



Your POV


 The radio quietly played in the background as I drove to Ryan and I’s apartment. My mind screaming Dan’s name over and over again. I had never gotten over him and the disappointment in his eyes when finding out I was engaged broke my heart. As I pulled into the parking lot of the apartments I felt my mind become cloudy when I tried to think about why I was with Ryan and not Dan. Dan and I had so much in common while Ryan and I were polar opposites. Ryan didn’t have the sense of humor like Dan did. Ryan didn’t care for me like Dan did. And even though all Dan and I did was fight and bicker, at the end of the day, I didn’t love Ryan the way I loved Dan. I carried the bags of ingredients up to the apartment where I opened the door to reveal multiple doctors and nurses filling up the living room. Sophisticated conversations were being spoken as laughter filled the room. I dropped the bags on the table causing a few to glance over at me and Ryan to notice my arrival.

 “Took you long another! Everyone I would like to introduce you to my friend y/n!” I stared at him blankly

 “Fiance.” I spoke angrily only causing Ryan to roll his eyes and nod softly before grunting out 

 “Yes… my future wife.” I scoffed before turning back to unload the bags when something caught my eye. The walls were empty. Nothing was hung or displayed on any wall of the house,

 “Ryan!” I spoke loudly over the voices making everyone go silent and turn their attention towards me once again.  

 “What?!” He spoke harshly, obviously annoyed by me interrupting his company for a second time.

 “Where did my pictures go?”

 “What pictures?”  

 “Oh I don’t know THE ONES THAT I TAKE FOR MY FUCKING JOB THAT WERE HANGING ON THE WALLS EARLIER!”

 A snotty brunette then piped up.

 “Job? Ryan I thought you said she was a lawyer not a picture taker.”

 “Photographer.” I gritted my teeth trying to calm my anger before turning my attention back to Ryan. “First you don’t want to announce me as your fiance and now you’re embarrassed by my job?!” I shrieked angrily as Ryan just chuckled. 

 “Y/n, I have a very important job and so do all these people. I didn’t feel telling them about your hobbies.” I felt my blood boil as he spoke.

 “Well you know what. I’m sorry I didn’t graduate from a fancy college with a perfect GPA. I’m sorry I don’t make as much money as all of your “perfect” friends but I’m not fucking sorry for who I am or what I enjoy doing. I like my “unimportant” job thank you and I know lots of people who support me.”

 “Oh yeah like who?” 

 “Like Dan…” 

 “Seriously y/n?! You’re bringing up that loser again! He doesn’t do anything either. Worthless piece of….”

 “Don’t you dare finish that sentence Ryan…” I spoke in a low, demanding voice. “Plus I know one thing Dan has that you will never EVER get.”

 “Oh yeah what’s that?”

 I looked down at my ring before sliding it off my finger and slamming it on the table “My heart.”

 “Y/n you’re gonna regret this…” I shook my head staring at him dead in the eye

 “Actually this is the best decision I’ve ever made. Have fun at your fucking party Ryan.” I pushed through the crowd grabbing my keys and open the door as I hear Ryan call from behind me.

 “You walked out that door y/n you can never come back. Do you hear me?! You can just send someone to get all your shit.” I stopped dead in my tracks before calling back.

 “Gigi will be here tomorrow to pick it up.” As I walked out slamming the door. I quickly rushed down the stairs as I reached my car hopping in and rushing down the street driving to the first place that popped into my head…



Dan’s POV


 “Phil make some popcorn!” I shouted from the living room as I searched through the TV for the episode we were gonna watch when I was interrupted by a knock at the door. Who would be delivering something at this hour I thought as I slowly stood up and walked down the stairs. I reached the door unlocking it slowly to be met with a petite girl. Tears filled her y/e/c eyes as her y/h/c hair was tangled slightly. I opened my mouth slightly as I stared at her standing at my door. I never thought I would something as beautiful as this moment. Even with her ratty hair and her makeup slightly smudged under her eyes she still managed to be the most breathtaking thing I’ve ever laid eyes on. I felt a smirk creep on my lips before I let out one of my remarks trying to lighten the mood.

 “Long time no see.” She giggled under her breath before I heard her mumble.

 “God I’ve missed you.” Before I could respond I felt her grab my shirt and tug me toward her. I felt her moist lips connected with my slightly chapped lips as the taste of her cherry chapstick invade my mouth. My hands found her waist as I tugged her inside with my closing the door by pushing her back against it. I tugged on her bottom lip as I pulled away smiling. She giggled resting her forehead on mine as I whispered.

 “I thought you were engaged?”

 “I was.” I grinned before reconnecting our lips

 I missed her every second of everyday. That was until she was mine again. I ended up marrying that girl. To ensure, that I wouldn’t have to miss her anymore.

!!!

AA!! I am talking and I have a thing to SAY please read!!
GUYS!! I need your help with a thing, me and a few friends have been talking about it for a while and I wanted some opinion from the Tumblr Kids.
Y’see, we’re all tired of those fools who come to newbie artsy kids who want to share their arts in the interwebs and say stuff to them like:

(this one is a great example with all the “you NEED to” and “It’s NOT LIKE THAT”)

WELL we can all agree that is NOT constructive criticism and it SUCKS
SO! What we’ve been wanting to do is create a blog with ACTUAL support, advice and positivity for artists! Focusing on the young and the beginners! 

I may be no pro but I’ve been really wanting to do something to help and support artsy kids, and I’ll have help from some other more experienced friends so I think on that part I’ll be fine, I’m just really nervous because I’m not sure where to start and I really want this to work out y’know??

So if you see this please I’d love some feedback and advice!! I want to make this happen but I can’t do it on my own!! Thanks in advance and have a great day <3

Before the Sun Is In the Sky - Lin Manuel Miranda X Reader

Pairing: Lin Manuel Miranda x Reader

Summary: You’re a sleep deprived third-year resident at the hospital and you’ve been assigned to the ER where a disheveled Lin comes in after a kitchen mishap.

Warnings: Blood, needles, cursing. I think that’s it?

Word Count: 3,132 (Yiiiikes.)

A/N: So I haven’t written in a long while, so it’s hella rusty and I’m sorry for this trash. This is my first fic in a long ass time. It was initially gonna be a one shot, but then I started rambling and well, it’s dumb. ANYWAY. Have fun with this garbage. Let me know what y'all think and maybe I’ll write more. Who knows.

SIDE NOTE: Thanks to @ourforgottenboleros for editing and being the sweetest pal ever. GO READ HER STUFF ‘CAUSE BECCA INSPIRED ME TO WRITE AGAIN AND HONESTLY I’M FLUSTERED BC OF HER WORK, SO YEAH.

You were four hours past the end of your shift at Columbia University Hospital and you’d been sleep deprived for a little over two days. It wasn’t like you had a right to kick yourself in the ass for being so exhausted because you intentionally signed up for this. Four years at Tufts, another four at Cornell, you weren’t about to throw it all away just because you were tired. It was part of the job. As a third-year resident, you should be used to it by now – and sure, you were, but you were human and sleep was still precious.

It was almost 4 in the morning and you were making your last round in the pit before calling it a night. The ER was oddly silent in a city that never sleeps, but still, you were beyond grateful for the silent reprieve, no matter how momentary.

“Doctor Y/N, there’s a minor laceration that just got assigned to Room 17,” a nurse called out from behind the station. “He was the last patient out there.”

You groaned to yourself, almost wanting to admit defeat. You didn’t want to go check up on someone that was most likely inebriated to the point where impulse and clumsiness overpowered all logic and balance. The guy probably had some superficial injury that could be patched up with some antibacterial cream and a Spider-Man band aid.

“Thanks, Erica,” you replied as you stifled a yawn that’s been trying to escape for the past six hours. “Stats and everything uploaded to the database?”

Erica nodded and smiled at you sympathetically, knowing full well how much you just wanted to go home, take off everything, and climb into bed for just five hours before it was time to start again.

Room 17, you thought to yourself as your feet subconsciously brought you to the back hallway of the emergency room, tablet in tow. After a brief overview of his stats, medical history, and a description of the wound, you quickly gave the door two knocks before entering the room. Pulling back the privacy curtain, you looked up from your tablet and smiled at a disheveled man with his hand wrapped in a bloody hand towel.

“Hi, I’m Doctor Y/N, Mister… Lin-Manuel.” You smiled as you set down the tablet and approached him.

“You can just call me Lin,” he replied as he tried to wave at you with his cut hand, pain suddenly reminding him of his early morning mistake. “Oh duh, so stupid.”

You bit your cheek to keep the snicker that was quickly rising up and grabbed a pair of latex gloves and put them on.

“Alright, so what happened?” Reaching out for his hand, you gingerly hold it and remove the towel, exposing a three inch long slice on his left hand, starting from a centimeter above the base of his middle finger ending down by the outside curve of his palm. “Ahh, there it is.”

“Apple,” he started. “I was slicing an apple because eating it whole is just weird and it’s so much easier to eat it in slices, so that way I have free range with my hands to–”

You stopped him. “So you were slicing an apple on a cutting board and then this happened… to the inside of your palm?” That made no sense. If anything, he would’ve cut a finger or even the outside of his hand.

Shuffling over to the cabinet on the wall adjacent to the bed, you opened it up and grabbed gauze pads and saline solution.

“No, I was holding it. In my hand.” Lin looked you in the eye and then suddenly couldn’t make eye contact. There was a moment of hesitation and he brought his focus to the pulse oximeter still attached to his index finger. “Stupid, I know, but I wasn’t thinking. I had other things going on in my head and I got hungry, so I figured I’d cut up an apple and get back to writing.”

You made your way back over to him.

“I think a lesson was learned today,” you retorted with a smirk on your face as you began to clean the cut.

He winced and jerked his hand away just a bit. “Yeah, but it’s a setback now.”

You tried to clean the cut, but every time you put an ounce of pressure to the area, he seemed more and more uncomfortable. “Okay, I’m gonna numb this.”

“With a topical cream?” He asked with a raised brow, concern growing on his face.

“I could use a topical anesthetic, but when I stitch this up, you’ll probably feel a little more of the sutures than you’d like…”

You felt bad for him, you really did. His apparent uneasiness with needles on top of very obvious sleep deprivation (his eye bags looked worse than yours, dear Lord) made his big brown eyes grow wider and suddenly, they looked, for lack of a better term, helpless. That split second of fear and anxiety staring right back at you in the form of a puppy dog in a human’s body just sent your heart plummeting.

“Look, it’ll be quick. If anything, it’s a quick pinch here,” you pointed to the base of his finger, then the middle of his palm, and the edge of his hand. “There, and… right there. By the time it’s over, you’ll just feel pressure on it and it’s all done.” You flashed him a reassuring smile and shot him a look of ‘okay, let’s do it?’.

Lin audibly swallowed and nodded shaking. “I just… needles. Not too great with them.”

You headed towards the door and shot him yet another sympathetic grin. “I know, but it’ll help, I promise. I’ll be right back with what I need and we’ll get you stitched up and out of here, okay?”

“Sure, take your time, Doc.” He ran his free hand through his hair and let out a deep breath. “Please. Take your time. I need to mentally prepare for… this.” He gestured around the room and looked up at the ceiling.

You chuckled and shook your head. “You’ll be just fine.”

This was an everyday occurrence. Patients came in and out of the hospital, especially the pit where they were never anticipating to be. Patience and understanding were two traits that were necessary on the road to success as a doctor, so when it came to cases like this, the standard protocol was already second nature to you.

Once you had the required items, you took your tray and brought it back to his room. “Hey there, all set?”

A shaky breath escaped Lin’s lips and he shook his head again, clearly trying his hardest to smile. “Uh, no, but it needs to happen. I just… the blood, the stitches, my hand…”

“I’ll distract you,” you offered as you grabbed the stool and took a seat next to the bed. “Okay, put your hand up here and tell me about what you were working on.” Fingers in place in the new pair of gloves, you took the syringe and popped off the top before beginning to administer the anesthesia.

He gasped audibly, prompting you to stop to give him a few more moments of preparation. “Shit, that’s a big needle.” His eyes widened at the sight of the bevel that was a hairline away from his gaping wound.

It was a short gauge, a whopping 26 millimeters from the tip to the hub, barely a millimeter longer than a typical 25-gauge butterfly. A baby’s pinky finger was longer.

“Shh, shh, don’t look,” you told him calmly in an attempt to reassure him. “Close your eyes, Lin. It’s okay. Breathe in, breathe out.” A comforting smile grew across your face as you coaxed him to relax. “So tell me, what’s that thing you were working on?”

“A musical.” He exhaled a shaky breath as he squeezed his eyes shut, his free hand visibly trembling as he brought it up to further cover his face, as if shielding himself from the entire ordeal would make it all go away. You started to administer the anesthesia one more time, working as lightly as you possibly could. “It’s a fuzzy idea I had one day and it just sort of – ow! Sorry, I – ah! Fuck! Damn it! I’m gonna – oh God, I’m gonna puke…”

“It’s over, it’s over, no more pain.” You gazed into his eyes as a smile tugged on the corners of your lips. “Also, no more sensation because you’ll be numb for a few hours.”

He cautiously opened his eyes and looked back at you, chest rising and falling as if he’d sprinted up six flights of stairs, a slight grin of relief reciprocating your own. “God, that was horrible.”

You couldn’t help but giggle a little. There was something entrancing about his personality, and honestly, him being your (hopefully) last patient almost made it worthwhile.

“You’re fine. I’ll get it all stitched and you can go back home to work on that musical, alright? Tell me all about it.” Suture in hand, you began to close up his wound, stealing glimpses of him every now and then to ensure he was comfortable.

“You know the dude on the ten-dollar bill? Well, he’s got a wild story from start to finish.”

“Alexander Hamilton? That guy?”

He opened up his eyes and looked at you as you met his gaze with a quizzical look. With pursed lips, he nodded as if to say, ‘Yeahhhh, crazy.’

A musical. About some old man on the ten spot. Who in the world would do such a thing? Of course, you weren’t about to burst his bubble, especially since he was slowly but surely calming down. And plus, it was mesmerizing just listening to him ramble on.

You were about a third of the way through and despite your desperation for rest (and a bagel – dear God, you were starving), conversing with this sleep deprived, clumsy playwright-slash-musician somehow made tonight much more entertaining – which was odd because your definition of ‘entertaining’ was scrubbing in on a coronary artery bypass graft. But regardless, something about this man made you want to slow down and take your time instead of rushing him out the door.

“So what’s so special about Mr. Ten Dollar bill?” You pulled the suture through and tied a knot, moving languidly to prolong the moment.

“Everything,” he answered, accidentally moving his wounded hand to further emphasize his reply.

You instinctively grabbed him by the wrist to steady his hand.

“Yikes! Sorry, sorry, I forgot…”

With a laugh, you breathed a sigh of relief, worried some freak accident would’ve occurred had you not been quick on your feet – well, hands. “No no, it’s all good. Keep going.”

“Uh, where was I– Right, so he was just some washed up orphan, tough life, big dreams, some victories, huge mistake…”

Stitch upon stitch, you listened intently, finding yourself upstaging Mona Lisa’s smirk with your own because no matter how monotonous this procedure was, you were actually really into it. The conversation, that was, and you just kind of, sort of, maybe, perhaps didn’t want it to end.

Eventually, he wasn’t as nervous as he was when he first arrived and the conversation went from distraction to legitimate socialization.

Suddenly, his voice trailed off.

“This is probably boring to you. You don’t wanna hear about this. You probably have people talking your ear off every day. I’m sorry.” Lin gave you an apologetic smile. “You must be tired of me already.”

You look up at him and shrug, the faintest smile gracing your face. “I mean, it sounded ridiculous at first, but the more you talked about it, the more I wanted to know.”

“Don’t patronize me, it’s okay.” A grin tugged at his lips. “I’m sure you wanted silence.”

Honestly, he was partially right. You wanted nothing more than to drown out the melodies of the hustling, bustling city you called home. There was not a more arousing thought than silence. (That was sad. You were turned on by silence.)

But that was before this patient swept you up in the excitement of the story of Mr. Ten Bucks. And suddenly, you were okay with hearing him drone on and on.

With a shake of your head, you smiled up at him. “I was actually enjoying the conversation.”

“Well anyway, that’s the gist of it. I’ll spare you of the rest of my commentary.” He shot you a sheepish smile and laughed under his breath. “Weird concept, huh?”

“I dig it!” you replied with an enthusiastic nod. Sure, it sounded absurd, but the way he described it to you made it seem like brilliance was brewing. “I want tickets to the show when it’s done. Front and center. I’m gonna be like, ‘Yeah, I fixed up his hand!’

A laugh fell from his lips and he met your eyes. “You’re cute, Doc.”

Oh, there you went with the blushing. You felt the heat radiating from your cheeks and you broke away from his gaze, fearing your quickly reddening face would be noticed. Eyes focused on the task still at hand, you continued to close up the wound.

“I lucked out here in the ER.”

You could practically feel his eyes still on you, and the silly grin on his face made your cheeks flame up even more.

“Look!” You gesticulated a mock presentation of his newly stitched up hand and flashed him your pearly whites, trying to change the subject. “Not bad at all, right?”

He brought his hand up closer to his face and examined it with fascination mixed with a twinge of disgust. “How Frankenstein’s monster-esque.”

You reached out for his hand after giving him a few moments to gawk at it and started to wrap it up with the roll of gauze, finishing it up with a knot. Cleaning up your station, you watched Lin’s reaction and couldn’t help but laugh a little. What a relief, you were finally done.

“It’s shouldn’t scar though, so if you were worried about having aesthetically pleasing hands, those stitches won’t hinder you from pursuing a hand modeling career.”

“Thank you,” he said with a sincere smile. “This was a surprisingly positive experience for me.”

“Well, it was my pleasure. And thank you for educating me on America’s history.”

“It was my pleasure educating a beautiful doctor who won’t, in any way, shape, or form, have any use of her new knowledge of America’s boastful founding father.”

Damn him, he was too charming. Those mesmerizing eyes, tousled dark locks, it almost seemed like he was flirting – No, stop it. You’re exhausted. That’s all it was. Exhaustion. Delusion.

A yawn was making its way out of your mouth and you couldn’t help but let it out and stretch along with it.

“Early shift, huh?” He asked, the grin on his face unwavering. “I get that.”

“Actually, I’m on my way out.”

Saying those words lifted the weight off your shoulders, the contours of your body already feeling the warmth of your bed, your head already sensing the softness of your pillow, your mind already imagining the sensation of rest.

His face fell and his cheeks turned a bright shade of red. “Oh God, and here I was, talking your ear off for about an hour and–”

“Don’t even worry about it!” You waved him off and shook your head fervently. “It’s my job. I chose this life. It’s not your fault.”

“I’m so sorry, I didn’t know. I would’ve just kept my mouth shut had I known.”

“Please don’t feel bad, I’m totally fine. It’s okay, I promise!” You pulled the gloves off your hand and threw them away before putting a hand on his shoulder in an attempt to assuage his worries. “Let me just slide out of here to write you a prescription and you can go home, okay?”

He nodded wordlessly and watched you walk out of the room.

A quick note on the pad and a grab of a handful of gauze and antibacterial cream later, you made your way back into Room 17.

“I’m ba-ack.” You sang as you swung open the door. “Okay, this is for 800 milligram Ibuprofen for pain if need be, and here are some supplies to keep that cut clean and covered, okay?”

There was a brief moment of quiet between the two of you.

He broke the silence.

“Have you had breakfast yet?”

“No,” you shrugged. “I was gonna tackle that issue after work.”

“Can I take you to breakfast?” He asked without missing a beat, cocking his head slightly to the side, eagerly anticipating your response.

What. That was not something you could do. Doctors were not to affiliate themselves with patients they’re currently treating outside of medical reasons.

Wait a damn minute. He was flirting. And you, stupid you, chalked it all up to merely hallucinating because you were so sleep deprived but –

“Sure,” you replied with a quick nod and a bashful smile plastered on your face, your mind not even comprehending that your mouth decided it was best to jump the gun. “I’d like that.”

And plus, technically, you weren’t even treating him anymore. Your job was done. You patched him up, told him how to care for it, and sent him on his way. His primary care physician was in charge of the follow-up. You were in the clear.

“I’m glad,” he stood up from the bed and grabbed the supplies you gave him and stuffed them in his front pocket. “Should I just… wait in the lobby then?”

“Um, well, the nurse will come in with your discharge papers and he’ll go over what the next few weeks are gonna be like. The game plan for your hand and what not. That should give me enough time to head downstairs to change really quickly and I’ll meet you back up here. Is that okay?”

Lin grinned at you. “Absolutely. I can’t wait.”

And with that, you hurriedly walked towards the elevators and rushed to down to the resident lockers. You frantically stripped yourself of forty-one hours’ worth of stress, sweat, blood, and other bodily fluids and changed into comfy leggings, a black tank top, and a flannel to tie it all together. Messenger bag slung over your shoulder and across your body, you approached the mirror hung behind the door, examining your hair, ensuring you were, at the very least, presentable at this point.

Well, you thought to yourself. This’ll have to do.

You met back up with Lin in Room 17, peeking your head through the door with a faint smile. “Hey, all done?”

“All done,” he replied with a nod. “Ready?”

As I’ll ever be, you thought. “Ready.”

Tired

Can we be honest with each other for a minute? Like, can I just admit some stuff here? This has been a hard year. This has been my no good, very bad year.

I am tired. No. I am TIRED.

There is bone tired and then there is marrow tired. I can visualize my marrow: worn down, thin. Grey.

I get to work later every day.

Because it is hard to drag myself into that zone. Those glassy eyes.

I cannot fight the battle of the phone anymore.

I cannot repeat myself anymore.

Dude.

I typed out those directions. Then I printed them out. Then I emailed them to you. Then I read them out loud. Then I wrote them on the board. Then I acted them out. With gestures. With accents.

How you gonna tell me, “I wasn’t paying attention?” For reals?

Guys, hello? This is my best material.

I have never written better lesson plans. I promise. They are meeting standards. They are based on essential questions. They are topical. They are fascinating.

They are useless.

I am old. I was BFFs with your ancestors. I remember the original thirteen colonies. I built the pyramids.

And in those decades, nay centuries, nay eons, I learned some tricks. My bag of tricks rivals Santa’s bag of gifts.

And. None. Of. Them. Work.

Every morning I have thousands of new grey hairs.

The circles under my eyes are canyons. They are purple. They have area codes.

Everyone is bored.

I used to be funny. No one has laughed with me in so long. I only cry in private. I only scream in my nightmares.

Hope does not return my calls.

My students used to just get high. They used to just get pregnant. Now, even the gamers are getting incarcerated.

It is getting bleak when the only poem which seems relevant goes, “Not with a bang but a whimper.”

But.

I am not beaten yet.

The other day, someone remembered what an inference was.

You know?

The other day, someone asked for a highlighter.

The other day, someone was actually looking up a word on the phone under the desk.

The other day, a kid made a joke and it was funny.

This is not a good year in my room. Fine. It is not a good year in my country. Fine. But even Scarlet O’Hara knew that tomorrow was another day.

Playing With Winchester

Originally posted by frozen-delight

Request: Hi! Congrats on your Writing Anniversary! I had this idea that maybe the reader asks Dean to help he train but he notices she’s doing it to help her insecurities? If that even makes sense. Thanks so much if you do!

Pairing: Dean x reader

Word Count: 1,900ish

Warnings: language

A/N: This one got away from me in a good way…


Keep reading

R A N T #3

Here’s a small random rant from, yours truly 😅
Okay, so ever since people at school found out that I like kpop they have non-stop giving me shit for liking it .. like I’m sorry that you take kpop as an “alien” form of music but it’s just what I like. Literally I’m so tired of hearing
“You can’t understand them”
“You’re not Korean so why are you listening to this”
“Your music taste is trash”
Since when does language of music define it ??
I hear all you people listening to Spanish music and you don’t hear me say stupid stuff like what you tell me … either way their opinion is invalid as I’m not going to stop listening to kpop just because some close minded people have a vague idea of good music :)
Hope you have a good day and thanks for reading this dumb rant lol

okay so i had the most horrible idea for a kagehina scene so now you all have to suffer with me - 2.4k, rated t, :( but then :)

Hinata found him behind their gym. His uniform jacket was stuck to the prickly cinderblocks half-way up his back like he’d leaned and slid down into the grass instead of sitting on the ground in the first place, like he couldn’t bother with normal human actions and just melted down the side of the wall out of spite or something. His messenger bag lay upturned and half-way gutted over the green ground in front of him, with his shoe dangerously close to the crime scene. It looked like he’d kicked it himself in anger.

Hinata bit his lip, wringing his hands as he stepped around the corner and approached Kageyama. 

He’d planned it all out, researched the best ways to go about it and the best poems–even read some in Japanese and English to see which language would sound cooler in the moment–and the best day in the week to do it. He’d talked to Yachi about it, and then Noya, who were both more in touch with this kind of stuff (especially compared to him). He’d thought about how tired they would be just after lunch versus at the end of the day (he couldn’t do it in the morning, because what if it went terribly wrong and Hinata would have to go to school with him all day instead of being able to escape at any point–best to avoid unnecessary embarrassment if he was rejected). He hadn’t anticipated this, though.

Just before last period, he’d pulled the piece of paper out of his trouser pocket–the one that he’d nearly scribbled and erased and scribbled down to pulpy nothing, the one he’d read and reread so much that the blue lines across it were fading at the edges from his restless thumbs (the one that he’d nearly thrown in the wash the other night)–and held it in his hands as he walked up to Kageyama in front of the sciences building. As usual, the volleyball team tended to gravitate toward each other during any sort of between-class downtime, so Tanaka, Ennoshita, Yamaguchi, Yachi and a couple of the first-years were all sprawled or leaning or loitering on the lawn with Kageyama, who sipped at his box of milk through a straw and slouched in the shade of a scraggly tree, listening to another one of Tanaka’s stories. 

Keep reading