a safe distance

“Because I love you” a Theo Raeken Imagine -> CHAPTER ONE

Originally posted by puxlineel

Hi everbody, this is my first Story I ever post here. Normally I´m more the fanfiction Reader then the fanfiction Writer, but I had this Idea about Theo in my head and I want to share it with you.

I have to say, that english is not my first language, because I´m a german Girl :).

Pairing: Theo Raeken x Reader

Warnings: I don´t know maybe pain and a little Brother and Sister Fight

So and now let´s get started with Chapter One :).


Your view:

When (y / n) arrived at the factory and saw what scenery she was offering, she could not believe what was happening there. She watched Theo fight for his life with the Dread Doctors, but Scott, Liam, Stiles, Kira and Malia were standing on the edge, watching the scene from a safe distance.

Because they knew that the doctors would not do them anything, because their goal was to kill Theo, cost it what it wanted. None of them wanted to help Theo, they did not see why they should save him after he nearly killed Scott, he should be punished for all his mistakes and die.

Theo´s view:

Theo was alone, he had killed all of his pack members. But at the moment he was fighting against the Dread Doctors, he was not even sure why he had done it.

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Oceanic White Tip SharkCarcharhinus longimanus

Until the 16th century, sharks were known to mariners as “sea dogs" and the oceanic whitetip, the most common ship-following shark, exhibits dog-like behaviour when its interest is piqued: when attracted to something that appears to be food, its movements become more avid and it approaches cautiously but stubbornly, retreating and maintaining a safe distance if driven off, but ready to rush in if the opportunity presents itself. Oceanic whitetips are not fast swimmers, but they are capable of surprising bursts of speed. Whitetips commonly compete for food with silky sharks, making up for its comparatively leisurely swimming style with aggressive displays.   x

Your mixed feelings about your parents are valid.

Shout out to people like me who have parents who are loving but are black holes of emotional labor… It took me a long time to realize that it’s okay to have mixed feelings about your parents, about your relationship with them.

Sometimes parents can love you but be somewhat toxic to you and your growth, and that’s a very hard realization to come to if you, like me, grew up extremely close to them.

Sometimes parents can love you genuinely but lack emotional maturity, forcing you to perform disproportionate amounts of emotional labor. Some parents manifest symptoms of their mental illness in ways that are toxic to your mental illness.

Some parents, like mine, try so hard to be good parents but fall back on habits of emotional manipulation because they haven’t processed their own traumas and are modeling behavior they grew up with. That doesn’t make their behavior acceptable, and it’s okay to feel exhausted and hurt when they betray you. You don’t have to forgive every mistake.

I want you to know that it’s okay to protect yourself, to need some space apart from them. The love you have for your parents is still valid, and you are making the right decision.

Placing a safe emotional distance between myself and my parents has been one of the most difficult, heartbreaking processes I’ve ever gone through… it hurts to try to curb the strength of your own natural empathy around people you love. It feels disingenuous to your heart’s natural state.

But I promise you, you are not hard-hearted or ungrateful, and you are not abandoning them. You are making a decision about your own emotional, mental, and spiritual health.

I know what it’s like in that confusing grey area of love mixed with guilt and anxiety, of exhaustion and quasi-manipulation and unreciprocated emotional labor, and I promise you, you are not alone.

Your mixed feelings about your parents are valid.

More Humans are Weird

Because this hash tag is SO FUN and thought-provoking. 

GENDER: 
No one can keep up with humans and gender. There are no easy signs to tell who is what, not clothing, not body morphology, not how they paint themselves or their grooming or vestigal hair. The humans themselves argue about how many genders there are. Eventually they quit trying and refer to all humans as ‘they’. Most humans are fine with that, even compliment them on their support (?) and progressive views (??). A few humans are offended, but are shouted down by their other humans. The other beings of the galaxy officially give up. 

SEX: 
Some humans want to have sex all the time. Others barely can stand to be touched at all, even casually. Some will have sex with their own gender, which does not produce offspring and is confusing to many. Some will have sex only with certain people, some will have sex with anyone. SOME will have sex with other species, occasionally challenging their own safety and everyone else’s. None of this is considered strange. Anyone saying it is strange is again shouted down and shamed into silence. The other beings of the galaxy officially give up. 

CATS: 
Humans adopt small predators as pets and kiss their “widdle faces” and giggle over their clawed toes (???) and fuss and are thrilled when the predators sleep with them (isn’t that UNSAFE? IT IS FULL OF POINTY BITS) and often sport scratches and bite marks inflicted when the animal was ‘playing’. 
“When were these ‘cats’ domesticated?”
“Oh, we never really domesticated them. We just let them move into the house with us. Aren’t they CUUUUUTE? Come here, baby.” -kissy noises-
The other beings of the galaxy again give up. 

RELIGION: 
Wars fought. Millions - probably billions, through history - killed. Crew members huffy with each other. Various holidays celebrated, none of which make sense, some of them celebrating events that are physically impossible and could not have happened. All for something that can’t be proved. 
The other beings of the galaxy would think this was all an elaborate prank if it wasn’t for the body count. 

GERMS: 
Humans get INFECTED and act as if it is a personal affront, and cuss about it. They confine themselves to quarters so they don’t infect the rest of the crew - very kind, in that respect - and otherwise wrap themselves in bedding and bitch about it for three days while doing their work by remote - “It’s fine, just a cold.” followed by horrifying noises they call ‘coughing’ and ‘sneezing’ -  and HOW. HOW DO THEY EVEN. 
The other beings of the galaxy, for whom infection is always life-threatening, boggle from a safe distance. With respirators on. 

ALPHA PREDATOR…? 
They come from a death planet, these naked apes with no armor, no fangs, no speed. They have the ability to conquer the galaxy, if they only agreed with each other long enough that it was their goal. Instead they poke their noses into other death worlds, ‘exploring’, they call it, adopting horrifying creatures and making friends with other predatory beings, brewing poisonous beverages from whatever they can scrounge, which they then drink for fun. The rest of the galaxy is relieved. If humans had an attention span, they would truly be in trouble. 

No one wants to know what a ‘shark’ is. Humans seem to be afraid of them, and if it frightens the humans, the rest of the galaxy is, to a being, terrified. 

the-queen-sees-all  asked:

I was wondering, what if Harry and Hermione had met before Hogwarts?

The first time Harry Potter met Hermione Granger, she was standing with her chin up and her hands on her hips a few paces from the old olive tree in the schoolyard, glaring into the far distance. The wind was trying to twist and buffet her hair into her face, but mostly it was just tangling cheerfully with itself.

Dudley and Piers were busy kicking all the other kids off the play structure, so Harry had retreated out into the grass. He stood a safe distance from the weird girl who was pretending to be a statue and thought wistfully of lunch.

“There’s a fallen bird’s nest,” the girl said in a rapid and certain tumble of syllables. “The boys knocked it out of the tree, but I chased them off and I’m hoping the mama bird comes back. I’m Hermione Granger. We just moved here.”

“Harry,” he said.

“How’d you get that scar?” she said.

“Car accident.”

“That’s a weird scar for a car accident.”

Harry shrugged. “It killed my parents.”

She blinked quickly at him and even at that distance he wished vaguely that she wore glasses, too, because her gaze was something that really felt like it should have some built-in bluntedness. “Mine are dentists. Mum’s taking me to the library after school, want to come?”

-

Before they went into Diagon Alley, Harry asked Hagrid if they could find a payphone. Hermione picked up on the first ring.

“Harry! Where have you been? I’ve been trying and trying to call–”

“Sorry, yeah. Um, so, I’m not coming back to school next year, I…” Harry drifted off, staring at Hagrid’s massive moleskin shoulders. The giant man saw him looking and gave him a tentatively cheerful little wave. “It’s been weird, Herm.” He pressed his forehead into the phone stand, but not too hard. “I think you’re the only thing I’m really going to miss.”

“Harry,” Hermione said and Harry started to frown, because that wasn’t her stern and startled voice. That was the voice that meant she was off down a charging war path of other thought and might not have heard him at all. “I’ve been reading.”

“Of course you’ve been reading,” he said. “I’ve been being forcibly hidden from a swarm of post office owls–”

“You’re in books,” she said in breathless delight, squeaking over the telephone line. “First thing we did, of course, after the professor explained, was get her to escort us to a bookstore– a whole bibliography, Harry, a whole world’s bibliography I haven’t even touched– how am I ever going to–” She took in a little calming breath, and murmured, “Different infinities, it’s okay, Hermione, okay.” A sharp exhale and then she tumbled right back into her rushing rivelet of a sentence. “And I picked up a good dozen, besides the school books, of course, and Harry, you’re in books, in Dark Wizardwork of This Century and A Modern Wizards’ History and October’s End: A Biography–”

“Hermione,” said Harry with slow enunciation. “Are you a wizard, too?”

“A witch, I think,” she said. “But I’m still reading up on the sociology of it all.”

-

Hagrid wouldn’t say Voldemort’s name, but Hermione would. She came over with a stack of books up to her chin, gave the Dursleys her normal pointed little stare that said she’d like to set them a little on fire, and curled up in his cupboard with him.

He supposed she probably could learn how to set them on fire, now, if she really wanted to.

She gave him passages and excerpts with his name in them, with his parents’ names, a home he hadn’t known. There were pictures of a ruined house with the smoke drifting in little curls of ink. There was his mother, smiling and waving in black and white. There was his mother, laid out on the floor, with a sober little caption below it. That picture was still, except for curtains fluttering in the window.

Hermione finally dragged her face far enough up from the pages to see Harry holding his own hand very tightly, and then she closed the book and reached for one about which magical creatures you should pet and which you shouldn’t.

“Sorry,” she said.

“I wanted to know.”

“I’m still sorry.”

-

The Grangers drove Harry, Hermione, Hedwig, and their trunks to King’s Cross Station. Mrs. Granger kissed the top of Hermione’s head while Mr. Granger mussed Harry’s mop of dark hair affectionately, and then they swapped children and repeated the treatment. Hermione pushed her hair back out of her face and marched them all to Platform 9 ¾, the entrance mechanism of which she had read all about.

“Before you go,” Mrs. Granger said, “let’s buy you some sandwiches? I don’t know what sort of food they’ll have past that–”

“There’s a trolley,” Hermione said, but her parents dragged them off to a snack kiosk anyway, Harry happily in tow.

As they were on Hermione’s tight schedule, there were plenty of compartments open, and they took one all to themselves– well, to themselves, Hedwig, and Hermione’s books, which took up two seats. (Harry would wheedle Hagrid into taking him to Diagon Alley for Christmas shopping that year, where he would get Hermione a carry-all bag for her small personal library.)

Hermione took a long preparatory breath while Harry unwrapped his sandwich. “Harry? What if I go and sit down under the Hat and I just sit and sit there, and then it says I’m not a witch at all?” Hermione said, the words getting more squashed together and higher-pitched as she went. “I’m not magic, it just got confused, and they send me home? Harry, I don’t want to be a dentist. Other people’s mouths are disgusting–”

“You’re not going to get kicked out,” Harry said, chewing amiably on his sandwich. It was not good, but the Dursleys hadn’t bothered with any breakfast for him and he hadn’t wanted to bother the Grangers about it either. It was a bit dry on the way down, but it settled warmly in his belly.

“But what if I do?”

“I’ll stage a protest,” said Harry. “Refuse to do my homework til they reinstate you.”

“You’re not going to do your homework anyway.”

“See how dedicated I am to you.”

She made a dismissive little noise at him, wringing her hands in her lap.

“Hermione,” he said, and she lifted her bush of hair to look at him. “You’re the most magical person I know. It’s gonna be alright.”

She gave a long slow blink but whatever she might have said was interrupted by an uneven knock at the door. “Um,” said the pudgy boy standing there. “I’ve lost my toad.”

Hermione leapt to her feet. “Where did you see him last?”

Harry followed in the wake of her forward charge, but he brought the rest of his sandwich with him.

-

(Harry did not know this and would not know this until Mrs. Granger mentioned it casually over a Christmas dinner years and years later– but she and Mr. Granger reported the Dursleys for child abuse and neglect, over and over.

The reports got lost– minds scrubbed down, papers vanished– but they kept calling in reports. They considered kidnapping. They couldn’t imagine why the wizarding world might want to keep their chosen one somewhere so toxic, why they might want to keep this underfed child and his messy hair with those people.

“My mother left me a blood protection spell,” said Harry, whose scar had not ached in years. He poked at his mashed potatoes under the focused attention of Mrs. Granger’s stern little forehead wrinkle. “I had to live with family, blood family.”

“Then they should have made them treat you right,” Mrs. Granger said, as though it was that simple.

Mr. Granger gave Harry another helping of peas.)

-

On the steps of Hogwarts, Draco Malfoy thrust out his hand to the Boy Who Lived, who surveyed the open palm with amusement. “Thanks,” said Harry. “But I think I can tell the wrong sort for myself.”

The redheaded, freckly, hand-me-down clothes boy Malfoy had been bothering snorted. Harry slipped his hands into his pockets.

“You’re the kid with the rat from the train,” Hermione said. “And the spell that didn’t work.”

“It was a cool rhyme anyway, though,” Harry said. “Hi, I’m Harry, this is Hermione.”

“Yeah, she said, then. I’m Ron– uh, Ron Weasley.”

“Yeah, he said,” Harry said, rolling his eyes Malfoy’s direction. “Come on, you wanna stand with us? Hermione will tell you about the ceiling.”

“It’s enchanted!” said Hermione.

-

When Hermione founded SPHEW, Harry was not surprised. He had spent too many schoolyard days escorting spiders to safe spaces, keeping vigil over fallen bird’s nests, and watching Hermione stand up on her desk chair in heated pitched verbal battles with teachers. She’d driven at least two teachers to tears and taught most of them at least a few new vocabulary words.

-

Over summers and holidays, Harry and Hermione took Ron to the movies, to the seashore, to Hermione’s top three favorite libraries. Hermione’s Aunt Meg taught them how to whittle under a cloud of cigarette smoke that clung to Harry’s hair until he washed it out.

In this life, there were things in the Muggle world that Harry missed, that he wanted to see again. He loved Hogwarts, and he nominally went home to the Dursleys each summer, but he knew he always had a bed at the Grangers’. He knew the weird system they used to organize the books on their shelves. He’d pass Mrs. Granger the marmalade in mornings before she had to ask. He got free dental check-ups all his life, which was good because the Dursleys rarely bothered taking him into the dentist.

The whole Granger family tore apart newspapers every morning, calling article excerpts across the table and pointing each other to their favorite journalists. Before Hermione even first stepped onto Hogwarts grounds she got a subscription to the Daily Prophet. During Harry’s fourth year, Mr. and Mrs. Granger got Arthur Weasley to buy them an owl and then began an unending campaign of furious letters to the editor that never got published.

-

In a crumbling boat shed, Severus Snape died, but first he pressed a shining bundle of memory into Harry’s hands.

The fight was still going– Neville newly broad and certain; Luna whipping out quiet, barbed little curses; Ginny charging like an army in and of herself. Hermione had her arms full of basilisk fangs. Ron was moving people like bishops and knights. But Harry had a long damp walk before him, so he had time to wade through that life not his own.

Severus had been a lot of things– one of them was in love. Harry dragged his feet through forest mulch, seeing a little redheaded girl in sunlight, hands not his own offering her transformed flowers. It had been just them for so long. For Severus, for so long, there had been no one but him and Lily.

Even in Hogwarts, Severus had drifted through the classrooms and common room and library. He had believed in magic, in the cool slide of good knives through dried roots, and in Lily– always, always in Lily– Lily in sunlight, Lily chewing on her thumbnail over Transfiguration homework, Lily flicking soapsuds at him in her kitchen at home over summer, Lily pig-tailed and seven, wide-eyed as he showed her the first magic she’d ever seen, a leaf to a flower, a bit of sunlight to a bit of fire.

He had loved, and it had been a real thing. He had fucked up, and it had been a real thing, that heartbreak, that regret.

When Harry turned the Stone in his hand and saw his mother step into pseudo-life in that forest clearing, he thought I wish I’d known you. He thought about how she was in sepia and gray, here, just like in the pictures in the pages of Hermione’s books.

But he was also thinking about Severus. He was remembering Lily in sunlight, remembering her walking away, remembering her in that same cold photographed sprawl but in color–in grief–in bruised knees and heaving gasps.

Severus had been the first to find Lily’s body and it had felt like someone had cut the sunlight out of him. Harry was living through that grief, but he was also living through the wail of the child crying unacknowledged. His tiny pudgy hands were wrapped around the guardrail of his crib.

Harry was thinking about a girl standing in a field like a statue, hands on hips. He was thinking about Hermione’s raised hand ignored in Potions, or the way Snape had sneered that he didn’t see a difference in her cursed teeth. Love had made him brave, perhaps. It had killed him, but it had not made Severus good.

Harry wondered if his mother would have escorted spiders to safe places, if she would have stood guard over fallen bird’s nests, if she had worried herself to pieces that first time on the Hogwarts Express about the Hat telling her she didn’t really belong.

“I wish I’d known you,” he told the specter of Lily Potter. He held his own hands tight.

For Harry, for so long, there had been no one but him and Hermione. Even in Hogwarts, there were things only she would understand– parking meters, the cobweb ceiling of his cupboard, the silence of marmalade at breakfast. Harry believed in magic and he believed Hermione Granger was the most magical thing he knew.

“They’ll be alright,” he said. “I’ll be alright. I was alright, mum. I wish I’d known you– but I wasn’t alone.” He squeezed his hands tighter– Hermione showing him her favorite spots in her favorite libraries; Ron shyly showing them the Burrow like it was anything less than a magnificent masterpiece of warm rooms and patchwork architecture; Hermione standing in the field like a statue, bushy-haired and seven years old, jaw set. “She wasn’t alone, either,” he said. “And she’ll be alright. Ron will be alright. I have to do this, don’t I?”

“We are so proud of you,” Lily said.

“Thanks,” said Harry. “Sorry,” said Harry, and wondered if Hermione was going to be able to read the little passages and excerpts with his name in them, with those un-moving pictures and the sober captions underneath.

He dropped the Stone.

-

When Harry Potter died for the first time, crumpled in forest mulch, he didn’t go to a squeaky clean King’s Cross Station. There were no crescent moon glasses to twinkle kindly at him.

He stood under an old olive tree and a little girl looked up at him with those eyes that needed shielding, needed blunting, needed a manufacturer’s warning. “A wind’s coming,” she said. “You can just go. It will be easy.”

He stood outside Diagon Alley, a Muggle payphone tucked between his shoulder and ear. “You’re in books,” she said, with a breathlessness he’d barely heard for years. There had been too much weight on his shoulders, on hers. “You’re done,” she said. “You’ve done enough. Go on, tap three bricks up and two to the left.”

He stood in Godric’s Hollow, in the snow, holding her hand, looking at the ruined house. “You should have had this,” she said. She was seven and small, not nineteen and weary like she had been in life. The sky was overcast but there was sunlight glinting in her hair. “You can still have this. You can have everything.”

“You’re not real,” Harry said.

“But you are,” she said. “There’s a wind coming. It will be easy.”

“You’ve never done anything easy in your life,” he said.

She took both his hands– hers were so small against his grown fingers, his broad palms, and how had they done everything with hands that small? Basilisks and werewolves; shouting down teachers from atop desk chairs.

Harry was sitting in his cupboard in the light of its single bulb and he was too big for this space, his shoulders curling forward, his head bowing. She was standing there with sunlight still in her hair and her arms piled high with books. “You don’t belong here,” she said. “It will hurt. You won’t fit, if you go back. Everything can be easy. Everything can be fine. It doesn’t have to hurt, ever again.”

“Hermione,” he said and leaned forward, put his hands on her hands where they were gripping her books. “It’ll be alright.” He smiled and she was staring at him with those eyes, those goddamn eyes. “We never fit, remember?”

“We tried,” she said and Harry squeezed her small hands gently.

“Send me back,” he said. “I want to go home.”

-

After the battle, as Hogwarts rang with frantic healing, crushing grief, and raging celebration, the three of them retreated to the library. Hermione hauled them down narrow aisles until she found her favorite tucked-away nook and they all collapsed on sagging sofas that seemed to not have been touched at all by the war.

“Well,” said Hermione. “What now?”

Ron let his head flop back against the seat, hair tumbling all over his pale forehead. “I’m going to nap,” he said. “For a month.”

“That’s not physiologically possible,” said Hermione. “Or if it is, then it’d be a coma.”

“It’s a metaphor,” Ron said, then: “no, wait, a hyperbole.” Hermione beamed at him. He blushed a little and elbowed her gently.

“After this, you’ll be in books, you know,” Harry told her.

“Not– I mean–” Hermione rubbed at her nose furiously. Ron laughed enough to wake up and sit up, throwing an arm around her shoulders.

While Ron came up with outlandish titles for Hermione’s eventual many biographies, Harry pulled his feet up onto the sofa. He watched the candles float quietly between the shelves.

anonymous asked:

I'm going through a real rough patch and if you want to write something cheerful you have no idea how grateful I'd be.

Flash sidled up to Superman on one of the Watchtower’s mezzanines, leaning against a rail. They looked at each other sidelong, then away.

“Wanna hear my new time?” Flash asked sideways, swaying as he alternated which foot held his weight, hands on his hips.

“There’s no way you beat my time,” Superman muttered, his arms crossed over his chest. His eyes were in the other direction, and both men went silent as the Lanterns walked too close. Superman and Flash gave them a nod of acknowledgment, then waited for them to be at a safe distance.

“Nine seconds.”

“What!” Superman dropped his arms, whipped his head around to where Flash was grinning and bouncing on his heels. “No way.”

Flat,” Flash said.

“There’s no way.”

“Check my heartbeat if you don’t believe me,” Flash said, tapping his insignia with his thumb. Then he frowned. “Actually, don’t, I’m pretty excited about this so my pulse is probably crazy.”

His heart always sounded like an angry hummingbird trapped between his lungs, but Barry was also a notoriously terrible liar, so it wasn’t as relevant as it could have been.

Dangit,” Superman said, crossing his arms again. He leaned back to scope out the area around them. No one seemed to be paying them much mind. “What time?”

“Eleven on a Saturday,” Flash said, looking even more smug. “You know I don’t mess around.”

“Tch!” Superman made an irritated sound, licking his canines. Then he snapped his fingers. “You forgot about–”

“Nnnope,” Flash interrupted. “I’m including the new ones in that, that’s the whole reason we had to reset our times, otherwise I’d still be at seven-point-four.”

Tch.” Superman drummed his fingers against his bicep. “Nine seconds,” he repeated, torn between irritation and awe.

“You know what that means,” Flash said, waggling his eyebrows.

Superman sighed. “Alright, where are we going?”

“I want soup.”

“Uh-huh.” Superman waited. Flash was waiting for him to ask. Superman was not going to give him the satisfaction.

“… in Saigon.”

“You’ve been watching Bourdain again,” Superman accused.

“It looked like really good soup!” Flash said, defensive.

“Fine,” Superman said, “but I am going to beat your time, and when I do–”

“Beat what, now?” Wonder Woman asked, having managed to approach them while they were distracted by negotiations.

“Nothing!” Flash and Superman said at once.

“We were just talking,” Superman said.

“About stuff,” Flash added unnecessarily. “Private, personal, man stuff.”

Wonder Woman’s eyebrows shot up. She was close enough for her lariat to hum on her hip. She looked Flash over. Flash started to turn red.

“Okay bye!” Flash said, and he was gone in a streak of red.

“Superman?” Wonder Woman asked.

“I should, uh. Hal…”

He wasn’t actually making any definitive statements, just stringing words together, and yet somehow it still managed to ring false. She watched him go, putting her hands on her hips.

She could practically sense it when Batman came up beside her, even quiet as he was.

“Do you want to know what they were talking about.”

“Do you know?” she wondered. He said nothing, so she turned to look at his face. It was as expressionless as ever, but she got the impression that he did not consider the question worthy of dignifying with a response.

He was Batman. He would never be so rude as to say ‘of course’ – but of course he knew.

“I wouldn’t want to invade his privacy,” Wonder Woman said cautiously.

“He’d tell you if you really asked,” Batman said. “They just like feeling like they have a special thing.”

“Oh.”

“Flash, especially.”

“I see.” She tapped on her lower lip as she watched Superman talk to one of the Green Lanterns. “So what’s the special thing?”

“Pick me up in the plane on Saturday and I can show you.”

She froze. Slowly, she turned to look at him. As always, being able to see him helped not at all. “Like a date?” she asked.

The corner of his mouth twitched. “More like a stakeout.”

“That could be like a date.” She was mostly saying it to tease him. Sometimes if she did it right, he turned pink and had to find a shadow to hide in.

“It’s usually not.”

“Why not?”

“I’m usually with the kids.”

“Oh!” Her eyes widened. “I didn’t mean–”

“It’s fine.”

She put her hand out to rest on his shoulder. “I would never imply–”

“I know.”

She took her hand back. “I’ll behave,” she assured him.

“You don’t have to,” he said, and she grinned.

“I’ll pick you up at ten,” she said, and she gave him an exaggerated wink as she walked away.

“It’s a date,” he murmured.


Why,” Wonder Woman asked, “are we in Florida?”

Batman was sitting beside her, and the plane was in a low hover. “Because as far as anyone can tell, this is the single biggest and busiest Walmart in the world.”

“I don’t think that explains as much as you think it does,” she said.

Batman held up a phone. A clock took up most of the screen. 10:59. “Watch,” he said, and he pointed out to the parking lot, vast and terrifying and teeming with people. She watched, and she had no idea how she was supposed to see anything in the crowd.

Finally, she spotted it. The motion too quick to be anything mortal. Would anyone on the ground notice anything more than a strong breeze?

“Oh! It’s the–” She snapped her fingers, couldn’t remember the word.

“Carts,” Batman supplied.

“Yes!”

In almost no time at all, every cart in the parking lot had been returned to one of the designated corrals. Batman pointed to something that he must have been using technology in his mask to see, because otherwise his eyes should not have been good enough. Wonder Woman was much better equipped to see Superman, standing beneath a tree and checking a stopwatch and scowling. He did some kind of motion with his arms and one leg that suggested he’d have thrown his hat to the ground, if he’d been wearing one.

“They introduced new carts,” Batman explained. “They don’t fit with the other ones, so it slows them down. Ruined their whole system.”

“They had a system?” she asked, giggling.

“No, here,” he said, tapping her arm to point again. “This is the best part. He’s frustrated.”

That’s the best part?”

“Watch what he does.”

She watched. Superman was gone again, more impossible-to-follow motion through the crowd. Things were moving. Large things.

“He’s fixing the cars!” she said, clapping her hands together.

“He’s fixing bad parking jobs,” Batman confirmed. “Because he’s mad.” There was a brief crooked curve to his mouth.

“He moved that one to a different space!”

“Illegally parked in a handicapped spot.”

“How fun.” Wonder Woman watched the people wandering through the lot, wondered how many of them had noticed what was happening and how many had disregarded it as nothing worth noticing. “Flash is the winner of this contest, then?”

“Consistently.”

“Is there a prize?”

“Clark buys him lunch. Usually somewhere he saw on a food show, since he can’t normally do that.”

“Why not?”

“Hm?”

“Barry can run anywhere, can’t he?” she asked. “I see no reason he couldn’t run to these places on his own.”

“He doesn’t like being alone in foreign countries,” Batman explained. “It makes him anxious.”

“Oh.” She returned her gaze to the parking lot. “How nice, then, that it all works out.” She frowned. “Is this weird?” she asked. “Spying on our friends like this.”

“I don’t think I’m the right person to ask.”

“Do you do this often?” she wondered. “Watch people have fun without you?”

“Define 'often’.”

Wonder Woman held up a finger in warning. “Zatanna taught me a trick.”

“That doesn’t sound good.”

“She says that if you ask me to define the parameters, it means the answer is bad.”

Before he could respond, there was a thump.

Superman was standing on the nose of the invisible jet.

He tapped a knuckle on the glass, until Diana opened the hatch. “Hello!” she said cheerfully.

“What are you two doing here?” Clark asked.

“We’re on a date!” Diana said.

“We’re not on a date,” Batman said.

“If you’re not on a date, can you give me a ride?”

“You’re out of our way,” Batman said.

“Nah, just drop me off in Gotham,” Clark said, slipping inside the plane, awkwardly floating between the two front seats into the back.

“You don’t even need a ride,” Bruce said, having to fit himself as far as possible into the edge of his seat so that Clark would have room to get by. “You can fly.”

“Yeah, and you can walk, but I don’t see you giving up the Batmobile.” Clark made himself comfortable in the back seat as Diana closed up the plane. “I’m craving Dimitri’s.”

“You’re too sober for Dimitri’s,” Bruce said.

“I’m always sober. You’re lucky I can tell this wasn’t a real date, or I would be really creeped out by the whole spying on me thing.”

“Don’t tell Barry we know about your special thing,” Diana said, pulling the plane out of its hover to ascend. “I don’t want to ruin it for him.”

“I won’t,” Clark assured her. “Hey, you know where we should go while we’re here?”

“No,” said Bruce.

“Where?” asked Diana.

“No,” said Bruce.

“Disney World!”

“No.”

Diana gasped.

“No.”

Clark put a hand on Bruce’s shoulder. “You can’t have come all the way to Florida just to see me,” he coaxed.

“I’m banned from Walmart, strongly discouraged from visiting Disney parks, and my parents are dead. I have no other reason to visit Florida.”

help you forget.

Originally posted by teenwolf--imagines

derek hale x reader (smut)

warnings: smut, some dirty talk, oral. (male receiving)

prompt: you’re pining over scott while derek pines over you. he helps you forget scott in his own way.

AN: let’s just pretend derek is still in teen wolf and he never lost his alpha title.  i’m such a sucker for alpha hale right now. 

beacon hills was a beautiful town, strange but beautiful none the less. you’d lived here your whole life, fortunately you’d managed to go most of your life without knowing what truly lurked in the dark but in the end, you were exposed to it all and fighting things nightmares were made of was a daily occurrence now.

Keep reading

Aquarius - Devoting from a Distance 

Aquarius can be the most elusive sign in love. Collective romance sweeps through intellectual Aquarius. Their humanitarian qualities are impossible to ignore. And they flood with love, but they are a diamond in the rough, and their love is not reserved for you. It is reserved for mother earth, for sea life and tree life, for experience, learning, culture, and progression. Aquarians typically resist drama or soaking emotion in love. The born explorer retains heavy guard over independence and the freedom of thought and expression. They will rarely let another human influence their decisions, morale, or values. The crystal, airy glass wall can be erected before Aquarius. Detachment gives them a cool and casual approach to love and social processes in general. Aquarius is certainly romantic. Unusual gestures, sharp minds, freedom fighters, these personalities shock jolt the electric Aquarius heart. And this heart is so often repressed by constant, chaotic thoughts, embarrassment, and the fear of vulnerability. They have subtle ways of expressing their feelings, and its of the Aquarian nature to be paradoxical in everything they do. Love with Aquarius is stimulating, playful, enlightening and above all, confusing. One of the zodiac’s biggest hearts is constantly combating dissociation, indifference and a fear of sentimentality. The heavier the emotion, the more increasingly uncomfortable or agitated Aquarius becomes.

Saturn is the ruler of Aquarius and the cold, dry planet is renowned for stifling innocence, vulnerability, creativity, and sensitivity. Aquarians are highly responsive to pain and cruelty, but they rarely let emotionality take over. Often they consciously decide to keep a safe distance from their own feelings, banishing them so they can be directed into something more meaningful, so they are not so messy or invasive. Love can be displayed through wisdom and guidance, through sharing their most outstanding ideas, through giving you freedom to be yourself, and wander, and love in your own lyric. It’s true Aquarius can be overcome with emotion. So many Aquarians have Pisces influence in the chart. Aquarius is the sign of rain so crying provides an excellent cleanse. But its rare to see an Aquarius indulge in emotional displays, they can feel shame or insufficiency. The humanitarian directs love on behalf of the greater collective, ensuring survival of the most innocent and assaulted. And yet, the Aquarius rarely self-soothes, often comparing and diminishing their trauma to others and forcing themselves to survive in isolation. When Aquarius fails to reveal their feelings of sadness or hopelessness to lovers, their distance and silence can cut like a knife.

The Aquarius has an unconscious fear that desire for one person will extinguish their flame. The sign of tribes, groups, and community are programmed to scatter their love amongst humanity rather than direct it one on one. This is why so many Aquarians become teachers, medical researchers, volunteers, and public health advocates - they feel inherent responsibility and love for people, especially children and animals. The Aquarius can deeply desire love, but their nature makes it more elusive than it need be. Aquarians are not suspicious, but any form of betrayal will rip them into pieces, because opening their heart was such an ordeal. They had to detangle bubblewrap and squeeze so many feelings into one person. Absence makes the Uranus heart grow fonder, and they are rarely lonely when they are alone. What they really seek is somebody they can ‘be alone with’, that is, retain their normal routine with somebody to bounce energy off. The Aquarius will probe and provoke your deepest and darkest realms, but don’t expect access to theirs. Like an internal roller coaster, the complexities of Aquarius are confusing and exhilarating, each gesture of love navigated by intellect and thought. Something traditionally romantic could make them giggle and disengage. Something stimulating, exciting, a place, a person, somebody just vibrating to their own frequency, is what melts the Aquarian heart. Light, breezy, and sanguine individuals, Aquarians rarely notice when someone is flirting or taking an interest, and they must be free to roam uninhibited in love. Someone as unique as Aquarius needs to wait for someone equally as special. And finding another diamond in the rough can take a lot of digging.

-C.

badboy!jungkook + the reality of us

“I told you I hate that flavor.” He glared, swiping at your lips with his thumb until you were slapping his hands away because he was wiping it all off.

“Well when you start paying for my lip gloss I’ll take it into consideration.” You spat, licking at your lips anyway because they taste less like grape and more like Jungkook.

Jungkook glared down at the little black bag sitting in the cab of his truck, a muscle in his jaw ticking until he reneged, ripping open the glove compartment to shove it in ‘til it was out of eye sight. After a final curse he unlocked his phone.

Jungkook [6:01:45]: when I say 5:30 it doesn’t mean make me wait in your drive way for 30 goddamn minutes

Jungkook [6:05:34]: what the fuck are you doing up there

Jungkook [6:07:23]: one more minute and I’m leaving your ass here

Jungkook [6:10:12]: fuck right off

He had only just sent the text when your front door was flying open, your very flustered self sprinting down your driveway until you could yank open the door of his truck with a grin. He wanted to glare, do anything but return your stupid goo goo eyes but he couldn’t help himself.

Not when it’s been an entire month since he’s seen you last, save for through the small rectangular screen of his phone. Especially not when you had returned home from camp looking gorgeous and brown from the summer sun, nearly blinding with your own radiance. He hadn’t understood, even all this time the point of going to a stupid fucking cheer camp the summer before college started and you would end whatever little thing you and Jungkook had had for the past year for good. But you had patiently if but a little patronizingly explained to him that you wanted to keep in shape for the fall tryouts at your school.

You sure had kept your fucking word about that. Somehow your body looked even more delectable than when you had left, the smooth expanse of your back revealed in a tank top cut so low there was no way you could possibly be wearing a bra under that. The ripped and frayed state of your jeans and scuffed white converse proved to be much less scandalous than your shirt choice. However—

“You cut your hair.” Jungkook said lamely, stating the obvious.

Your only response was to turn back to him with a grin, before attempting to throw yourself on him over he middle console. He still caught you though, his firm grip around your waist betraying the sneer he was sporting—it only made you grin wider when you brought your lips together.

Jungkook’s eyes widen the slightest when an eager tongue swipes over his lips and your physically climbing over the middle console to get to him, his hands catch you around the waist and he’s suddenly just as invested in the kiss. His mouth is scalding on your own, lips sealed over yours in an almost feverish haze as though he’s trying to communicate just how much the distance affected him in a single kiss. Your touch is just as desperate though, reaching up his shirt to press against the smooth muscle there. It had been so long, you just needed to touch him, feel him, feel the familiar press of his erection—one that never failed to make an appearance in your presence.

And then he’s pulling away from you, hands clutching your face a safe distance from your own, “Your parents.”

He asks the logical questions because it appears you weren’t going to be the level headed one this time around. Still, you try and dive back in for another kiss, but his grip only tightens with a frown.

“Out of town.” You whimper, making another attempt to get closer to him. This time you succeed and Jungkook waits all of five seconds with his mouth against your own to pull away again.

“Then why the fuck,” he says between kisses and swipes of tongue, “are we hooking up in my truck?”

“We’re not.” You groan, pressing your core deeper against the zipper of his jeans, “We’re not fucking. I’m just… I just—”

“Will you stop grinding long enough to finish your goddamn sentence. Jesus Christ,” he curses when your head dips back, and a hiss slips through his teeth on a particular roll of your hips, “You act like.. l-like we’ve been apart a year instead of a month. Fuck baby, quit that.”

“Okay, okay I’m s-sorry.” You say on a shudder when his teeth nip roughly at your lower lip. You still can’t help but dip your head into the crook of his shoulder and inhale his scent, “I don’t do good with distance s-sorry. I missed you.”

“I couldn’t tell.” He replied dryly, sending you a cocky grin when you glare at him.

Your glare is gone just as quickly as it came though and your eyes flutter shut in defeat, or a pout, Jungkook could never be sure with you.

“I’m so wet.” You whined before exhaling with a shake of your head, “We are not fucking today.”

Jungkook snorts, “Are trying to convince me or yourself?”

“You,” you answer firmly before cocking your head to the side with a frown, “No me. Wait… both of us?”

Jungkook rolls his eyes but catches you by the scruff of the neck, gaze laser focused on your full lower lip before he’s dipping in for another kiss—it’s slower this time and reverberating a softness you weren’t aware Jeon Jungkook was capable of.

“You irritated the hell out of me for a month.” He glared, but he was hugging your waist, you cocked an eyebrow at his contradictory behavior. As though a switch had been flipped, his gaze narrowed to slits and he was cocking his head at you.

“What?” You sigh.

“How was camp?” He implored, but his words were laced with suspicion.

“It was good.” You shrug, “Actually I kind of miss it. I made a lot of friends there.”

“Yeah?” Jungkook asks stiffly, “Then why’d you bother coming back at all?”

“Don’t start.” You groan, hands going to cup his face and though his pouting was adorable it ruffled your feathers.

“And what about that nerd…. Taekyung? You two keeping in touch over break?” He sneers.

You let out a deep exhale at the mention of your companion—you and Jungkook had been getting along well, fucking great in fact, as though the distance had triggered something in the both of you and lit a fire under Jungkook’s ass. He would call almost everyday, text you when he was busy, it was almost… domestic of him. You had gotten too comfortable with the Jungkook that was caring in his own roundabout way that you forgot to be wary of the green eyed beast that lurked just beneath the surface of his cool exterior. He had asked for a selfie and you had tugged one of the girls in your squad, and a very discombobulated Taehyung into a picture after one of the more intense days at camp.

Safe to say, Jungkook didn’t appreciate it—your lack of clothing or Taehyung’s close proximity.

No. I haven’t been keeping in touch with him.” You snapped, “But how are you and Jennie, I saw you tagged in more than one of her pictures on Instagram. Is she doing well? Still sucking dick under the bleachers?”

“If she is its not fucking mine.” He bites out crudely, “Considering I’ve only had my dick in one uptight bitch for the past year and half. I haven’t even seen her since we fought on the phone for a fucking hour because of that stupid ass picture.”

“Good.”

“Great.”

“Yep.”

You pinch the bridge of your nose before matching Jungkook’s glare with intense scrutiny, “We’ve been together all of five minutes why are we fighting already?”

“It’s not a fight.” He spits.

“Then what the hell is it?” You scoff.

“A discussion, a very loud fuckin’ discussion.”

“Are we seriously fighting over whether or not we’re having a fight?” You exasperate, running a hand through your hair. You pin him with a look, “I came here to hang out with you. I… I haven’t even bothered to call anyone else because you were the first person I wanted to see. So could you stop being a dick long enough so we can go on a da….”

Jungkook raised a brow at you. The two of you had long since been toeing the line of domesticity and while you were both aware of it neither of you was willing to swallow their pride long enough to show all your cards.

Movie. Let’s go to that movie and then when we get back we can do something that you like.” You say with a teasing smile, going to straighten his the ties on his hoodie.

Jungkook sighs but lets you pull him in by his sweatshirt for another kiss, this one longer but less heated than the first. 


“God that blew.” Jungkook stretches and you roll your eyes at him.

“How would you know, you slept through the entire thing.” You snorted.

“Not the entire thing.” He smirks, throwing an arm around your shoulder.

“Right I forgot you woke up in the middle to finger me.” You scoff.

“As if you didn’t enjoy it.” He chides.

“I never said that.” You hum before shoving the popcorn at him, “Hold this, I have to pee.”

Jungkook grumbles something that sounds dangerously like an expletive and you don’t wait for him to agree, rushing to the restroom to relieve yourself.

It isn’t until your washing your hands that you remember the crumpled brown bag in your purse. Your hands flutter uselessly as you try to take it out, hoping to God that it’s not wrinkled. You grin to yourself when you find it in perfect condition.

“Would he feel put out if I got him something?” You grumble before worrying your lip between your teeth, “You’re overthinking it, ___. Its just a stupid t shirt.”

Right it was just a shirt. No big deal. Just something you saw in passing that you thought would look good on him, no big deal.

“No big deal.” You repeat to yourself before taking a last minute glance at yourself in the mirror. You looked nice… or you thought you looked nice but Jungkook hadn’t mentioned anything about your haircut other than the initial shock he sported when you were coming down the stairs.

You push back through the bathroom door, taking extra care not to touch anything after having already washed your hands, your eyes scan the room for Jungkook, letting out an annoyed huff because you told him to wait outside. You falter when you come across a broad back, his hand rubbing at the back of his neck in a familiar fashion.

“Jungkook I told you to—oh.” You hesitate at the halting laughter, whatever inside joke they were giggling about brought to an abrupt close when you draw near, “Hey.”

“Hey unnie.” she greets, hand coming up in a stiff wave, “… are you two here together…?”

Jungkook hesitates for the briefest of moments, eyes searching yours for an appropriate response. You don’t know why it annoys you so much or why you’re suddenly schooling your features into a tight grin.

“No. I, uh… we ran into each other and he was holding my stuff for me while I peed.” You lied, taking in the way the younger girls shoulders slump in relief.

“Cool.” Jennie grins, “Jungkook’s really helpful like that.”

Isn’t he?” You agree curtly, your gaze hesitates at the familiar black fabric wrapped around the girls shoulders, “Cute jacket.”

“O-oh this?” She asks before sending a shy grin Jungkook’s way, and you swear his eyes close in defeat, “He lent it to me a while ago I never did get to give it back so I was excited to see him and maybe return it but we got a little side tracked.”

You send a questioning look Jungkook’s way but he’s as silent as he had been the entire five minutes you spent having the fucking conversation.

“I’m sorry, don’t let me interrupt.” You feign apologetic, “I’ll just leave you two to it.”

Jungkook lets out an exasperated sigh but if the younger girl notices she doesn’t say anything, only smiles politely at you.

“Wait, er… what about that ride you asked me for earlier?”

He’s grasping at strings.

“It’s fine, I’ll find my own way home. Don’t worry about me.” You send a fake smile their way.

“Quit being ridiculous.” He seethes before turning back to Jennie, “Uh… it was cool seeing you or whatever but I’ve got stuff I got to handle and—shit. ____ will you wait up?”

“Jungkook!” Jennie calls.

You don’t even bother turning around, your feet are eating up concrete before you have half a mind to realize that the heavy footsteps are getting closer. No, you don’t realize that until a hand is yanking you back by the wrist.

“Will you wait a damn second?” Jungkook grits out.

You bite back the immature words that are clawing their way up your throat and feign innocence.

“Oh. Sorry. Were you calling me?” You hum, but the angry flush in your cheeks give you away and Jungkook’s narrowing his eyes at you.

“What the hell was that about?” He implores.

“What was what about?” You frown.

“I’m not in the mood for your fucking games tonight alright, would you—would you just,” he ends on a growl, “tell me what’s bothering you.”

“Nothing.” You chime, “Absolutely nothing is bothering me. If you were talking about in there when I came out and saw you talking to some random girl who you said you had nothing to do with and yet she’s wearing your hoodie then you’re wrong.”

Jungkook blinks at your for a moment.

“We’re not fucking… we’re not anything!” He groans, running a hand through his hair and trying to figure out how the hell you two ended up here.

Why you always end up here.

“Are you talking about me and you or me and Jennie?” You spit back, “Because you’re right about at least one of those things.”

You try to storm away again but he drags you back by a belt loop, bring you toe to toe with.

“We’re not anything—is that what you’re saying?” He queries and he doesn’t know why it irritates the hell out of him.

“We’re not.”

“Then why are you so fucking pissed, why are you so jealous about some random girl if we’re not anything, huh? Does any of that make sense to you?”

“I’m not jealous.” You hiss, “But if I were mad about this entire thing, which I’m not I’d tell that you I’m not fucking mad about you talking to some random girl I’m mad that you lied to me.”

“Stop fucking talking in hypotheticals!” He yells suddenly and you’re only partly aware of the fact that he’s already dragged you to the car and you’re slamming the door angrily. “When the hell did I lie to you?”

“You said you didn’t talk to her anymore but why is she wearing your jacket, are you two fucking?” You shout back and your tone has Jungkook reaching for you, hands clenching around nothing like he wanted to choke you before he was dropping his head back against the headrest.

“No I’m not fucking her!” He huffs, “I’m not fucking anyone but you and okay I admit I did lie I saw her last weekend, we’re in summer school together and the classroom was cold so I gave her my fucking sweater. I only lied for your benefit.”

“Do I look like I’m benefitting from your dumb fucking lie?” You spit, “And are you her goddamn boyfriend, let her freeze to death for all I care.”

“Well am I your boyfriend?” He demands and the car falls into utter silence around his question.

You inhale through your teeth before turning to face him, a frown marring your expression, “You’re right. You’re not my boyfriend because a stupid fucking boyfriend would at least say something about my haircut that I dumbly got for him but no you’re not my boyfriend you’re not my fucking anything.”

“What the hell are you talking about, when did I ever say anything about your hair? You look fine either way, who the fuck cares—”

I care!” You shout, “I care because I care about you and you’re stupid fucking opinion and I want to be your dumb girlfriend, okay? I don’t want to look fine either way, I want to look beautiful to you. I want you to call me for a change. I want… I want to be able to give you this stupid fucking gift without having to overthink the consequences—if I’m going to be moving us forward or back two steps and I… I like you, I like you so much that I remember things you say when you’re not paying attention like how much you liked some dumb actresses hair and so I do… I do stupid fucking things because of you.”

Your panting by the end of your confession because it was a lot, it was all the things you wanted to say, all the insecurities weighing heavy on your mind while you were away from him. And in a perfect world, Jeon Jungkook would have looked back at you and wiped your tear streaked cheeks and coo back all your rushed declarations.

But this wasn’t a perfect world and this was very much the reality of you and Jeon Jungkook.

“I… you… we said that we wouldn’t complicate things.” He says quietly, hands gripping the steering wheel, unable to meet your gaze.

All you can do is let out a bitter laugh.

“Right.”

“I think that it’s better this way,” he says lowly, “you’re going off to college and I’m probably not fucking going anywhere. It’s better if we end this now before either of us gets too invested.”

“Either of us… gets invested,” you repeat slowly before unbuckling your seat belt, “Why sugarcoat it? I’m the only one that’s invested, clearly. It was fun while it lasted right?”

Jungkook lets out an exasperated sigh when you open the truck door, “Let me at least drop you home.”

“Fuck you and enjoy your stupid fucking present. And in the very unlikely future you feel inclined to try and talk to me—don’t.” You throw the brown paper bag at him before slamming his truck door.

“____!” He calls, but you’re already jogging back to the theater. Jungkook yanks open the glove compartment and grabs his idiotic present before throwing it out the window, watching as small tubes of ridiculously priced lip gloss go flying.

Debt

Imirrim-Chæma-Thiridion had answered a distress call. It had probably been stupid on xir part, but what was done was done.

A small ship, even smaller than xir, had crashed on a barren but breathable-to-most-species moon in the system of Hyaldnar. Xe had been making a delivery for xir mentor when xir communication system picked it up, and since xe was barely past adolescence, the journey of not even five rotations was making xem bored and seeing a crash site would be exciting. After all, it was probably an automated distress call, nothing could survive a crash to a rocky moon.

But there xe was, standing in front of a crumpled and burned wreck and the very much alive creature that had crawled out of it after perceiving xir pod landing. Imirrim cursed xir rotten luck, now xe would have to help the poor thing. Xe had been planning on just sight-seeing the wreck a bit, maybe later contact whatever species it had belonged to to tell it had crashed, if only to look good in front of xir mentor.

After a while of the creature gawking and baring it’s teeth at Imirrim, xe recognized the species as human, the fifth longest living space-faring species. Still, xe belonged to the second longest living, and Thalmors like xemself could outlive five humans each born at the moment of the previous one’s death. What had especially stuck from xir exobiology and alien anthropology lessons was humans’ way of expressing their emotions in strange and backwards ways, and their sheer capability to holding grudges. Great.

Imirrim approached the human slowly. It was approaching xem right back, still showing it’s teeth like it was attacking, but but humans expressed their emotions backwards, so that was good, right? Besides, the human was wounded and limping, and xe could outrun it if things went bad.

“Finally someone answered my call,” the human -a male, xe guessed- said as Imirrim was close enough. “I’ve been here for a week and I’m running out of water.”

A week? How was he alive?

“Oh, where are my manners,” the human said and extended the less damaged of its upper limbs towards Imirrim. “I’m Thomas Warren, from the human colony on Clyzma Al Carrim, farmer by profession.”

Imirrim carefully extended a cheliped to mimic the greeting, and did xir best not to flinch when the human grabbed it and shook it. “I am Imirrim-Chæma-Thiridion from planet Skismin, apprentice to the Grand Navigator.”

“It is very nice to meet you,” Thomas said and shook xir cheliped some more before finally letting go. “You mind taking me off this rock?”

Imirrim shifted xir weight from a foot to another to a third. “Sure.”

“Great!” Thomas said and pulled his lips even further back, revealing even more teeth, more than could possibly fit comfortably into a mouth that small. “I’ll be right back.” He limped back into the small shipwreck.

Imirrim was regretting this. It wasn’t customary to help strangers, especially from other species, since there was no telling what they could do. Humans had a reputation of being unpredictable, especially when wounded. And this ‘Thomas’ was covered in wounds, some looking much too severe for anyone to possibly survive.

Thomas emerged from his wreckage, carrying something that was clearly important if he was willing to retrieve it from a wreck while severely wounded. “So, Imirrim, was it? Where are you headed?”

Imirrim led the human to xir pod and helped him climb over the threshold. “Back to Skismin. You can get better help there.” If he stayed alive that long.

“Lovely, you’re a real life saver,” Thomas chuckled. “I’ll owe you one.”

To Imirrim’s surprise -and relief- Thomas did not die during the two rotations’ travel back to Skismin. He talked xir auditory membrane off and after a while filled the pod with the faint stench of alien blood, but all things considered he wasn’t the worst passenger. Once xe had docked the pod back on Skismin and had helped Thomas and his bag of belongings (which turned out to be an assortment of small possibly decorative items, data storage devices, clothes, and even a few ordinary rocks one could get anywhere but that were apparently ‘cool’) to the nearest emergency clinic, Thomas turned to xem one last time.

“If you ever find yourself in a bad spot, call me,” he said with a serious expression xe had come to recognize during their time at the small pod. “I owe you my life, just call and I’ll pay you back.”

Imirrim stared after him for a long while before turning away and heading to tell the Grand Navigator that hir delivery was received and thanked for, and to tell xir mentor about human Thomas Warren.

After xe had told hir what had passed, Imirrim asked one last question. “Master, what does it mean when a human says they 'owe their life’ to someone?”

The Grand Navigator’s age-reddened crest rose curiously. “Like you probably know, humans are known for holding grudges and for being almost insensibly loyal. While they keep in mind all wrong that has been done to them, they do not forget a good deed done to them either. 'Owing one’s life’ means you have done something to them that they regard highly of, usually the saving of a life, and that they will do anything in their power to, as they say, 'return the favor’. Did this Thomas say this to you?”

Imirrim nodded. “Right before he went with the medical staff, he said he owes me his life, and all I need to do in a time of distress is to call him and he will come.”

The Grand Navigator raised hir upper chelipeds in a sign of pride. “You have done well, my apprentice. To earn a human’s favor is a feat of great bravery and compassion. One day, you shall become a fine and daring Navigator, like the explorers before us.”

Imirrim ruffled his crest at the praise. Maybe answering the distress call wasn’t such a bad idea after all.

Time went by, and Imirrim progressed from an appearance to a novice and on, up the ranks, and eventually landed a spot as the head Navigator on the long trade ship Pochella, traveling at high speeds through barely charted nebulas and dangerous asteroid fields. Xe plotted courses through the densest of rock fogs and past dangerous gravitational pulls, and not once did his calculations for the course fail.

Xe had lived many more cycles, many more than a human could ever live. Imirrim had counted- xe had kept a distant eye on Thomas Warren in case xe would ever have a need for the favor he had claimed to owe xem, but the need never came. He had died fifty-seven cycles after xe had rescued him, or seventy-two years, as humans counted time, and even more time had passed after that.

Still, even after all this time xe looked back at him for courage when daily life was hard and xir spirit was down. Xe had met and worked with humans many times now and they all shared the same spirit Thomas Warren had had, but none of them had left quite the same impression on xem as Thomas, who had smiled and joked through nine rotations on broken bones and told fondly of his family and farm back on Clyzma Al Carrim.

Imirrim had plotted a course through a particularly dense asteroid cloud, a course that would save the ship a lot of time and fuel. The ship was nearly out of the cloud when the proximity alarm went off and something clamped into the ship’s hull. The computer showed xir an approximate hologram of the something. It was a smaller and armed ship attaching itself to their ship.

The Cieruna members of the crew -small, short-lived, and feathery things with nimble hands and a sensitivity to electromagnetic fields- were screaming in terror. Pirates, they yelled, we can’t shake them off, we’re all going to die. Shush, xe said, we will not die. I’ll call for help, be quiet.

Imirrim galloped to the unoccupied communication post and sent a distress message on all frequencies. “This is Imirrim-Chæma-Thiridion, head navigator of the trade ship Pochella. We are inside the Halfway asteroid cloud. And we are under attack by pirates. Please help us.” Once the message was sent xe stepped away from the console and joined the crew in listening to the magnetic creaking of their hull in the morbid silence that had followed xir call.

The ship could not move, following the already plotted course with the extra weight and bulk of the pirate ship attached to them would be suicide, and finding a new safe route out without knowing the exact dimensions of the other ship was impossible, not to mention useless against the threat. All xe could do was hope for a miracle.

And a miracle xe got. Another proximity alarm sounded, and the computer showed an image of a charging mining pod, ten times smaller than the pirate ship and at least a hundred times smaller than Pochella. Outmatched, outgunned, it rammed the pirate ship and despite being hit by their lasers and missiles, it kept on pounding it with its grappling arms and mining lasers and asteroid bombs, everything it had. And finally, when the pod was leaking air and plasma and fuel into space, the pirate ship released its hold and retreated, engines sputtering and its hull dented and battered, and flew away from Pochella and the mad mining pod to safety of the asteroids.

“What was that? What happened? The Cieruna chirred and cheeped. “It is gone! We are saved!”

Imirrim was still looking at the hologram screen. The mining pod was all but destroyed in the short but fierce fight. Someone exited it, wearing a spacesuit and carrying something, and the pod engaged it’s barely functional engines and sped away leaving a trail of debris and smoke in its wake, until it finally exploded from the damage it had sustained a safe distance away.

Imirrim stared at the hologram for a moment, and shifted xir weight from a foot to another to a third. Xe input a code to the control panel and opened a small airlock near the creature that had saved them all. Xe set off from the bridge where xe was posted and galloped through corridors and climbed down stairs, until xe arrived in front of the airlock that had already closed and the creature that had successfully boarded the ship.

“Are you Imirrim-Chæma-Thiridion?” The creature asked. Xe nodded, all the while looking the spacesuited being up and down. Four limbs, two for walking and two for holding. No tail, short neck but a neck nonetheless. No added room for fins or spikes or crests. It was a human.

The human handed their possession to xem -a lumpy bag that both felt and looked like it had rocks in it- and pulled off their helmet.

The human was ruffled and grizzled and had spark burns on his face and his eyes were serious, but he was baring his teeth in a joyous smile. He extended a hand to greet xem and Imirrim took hold of it and shook it.

“I am Stepa Warren,” the human introduced himself. “You rescued my grandfather from a shipwreck when he was young. He spoke fondly of you til his dying day. It is an honor to meet you.”

Sick of Losing You

Plot: Harry and Y/N lost each other when he found someone else.

Warnings: None aside that it kinda broke my heart.

Playlist to the one shot: https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PL2S-tehb1XqDqkmE4xnz7-SciJy61soVf

Thanks to @interfectorems for being such a good friend, supporter and for requesting this. 
Songs that are mentioned but not on the playlist are “Out of the Woods” by Taylor Swift & “If You don’t Know” by 5Sos.

Pic of this beauty isn’t mine.

I watched from a far how he held on to her hand, his fingers grasping and squeezing hers gently while his eyes never left her pretty face. He watched her speak with such an intensity in his green eyes, as if he literally saw nothing other than her. His girlfriend. Not me.
I took a deep breath, swallowed the thick lump building in my throat and turned away from the sight.
Exactly three weeks ago, Harry and I had shared a kiss. Our first kiss, which had been exactly how I’d secretly always wished for it to be. Of course it had been. Every time you get to kiss the person you love is special and like fireworks painting colors into the sky.

He’d been talking and listening to me all night, similar to how he now was with her and had at some point reached out to hold my hand, just like he was holding hers in this moment.
When the time felt right, he’d leant in and had captured my lips with his. Needless to say, Harry was a phenomenal kisser. He knew when to press further, when to use how much tongue and was very attentive to how my body responded to his. Whenever I thought about it now, my cheeks tingled with the memory of his hands cupping them gently as he cradled my face to keep me close. He’d been so soft, so perfect. Harry had touched me with a tenderness, I thought it’d break my heart. I remembered wrapping my arms around his neck and feeling like they belonged there, like I was meant to hold him close.
Only that I wasn’t. The girl he was with now only proved how insignificant I was.

I couldn’t help peaking and looking over at him again. Harry’s lips. I knew exactly how they felt when pressed against my own, knew their taste and shape. Their warmth. Harry’s touch was impossible to forget.
I watched him kiss his girlfriend with a mesmerized stare, before moving away and into the kitchen, leaving the small gathering of our friends with a murmured excuse that I needed to get a refill of my drink, when in reality I couldn’t bear seeing the man I loved sharing affectionate kisses with someone else.
But not even the kitchen was a safe area for me. t had been this exact kitchen, the one in Harry’s house, where he’d pulled me aside and told me about her for the first time.

“It’s difficult” I think he said. “It’s my fault that this situation has become so messy.”

Was it silly that I could actually still remember every word he spoke to me? That I’d engraved every pause, every take in of breath he made, deeply into my head?

“Listen, Y/N… You’re important to me. I care about you. Need you, it’s just… There is someone. Someone who could be a chance for a relationship and I really want to give this a go. Give her a go, I mean. You can understand that, right?”

At first it’d felt like none of it was real. Because how could he be serious?
Harry. My best friend, Harry.
Only three days after our magical first kiss, three days full of us talking and flirting and texting constantly, he was telling me that he wanted someone else. Her name was Ira. And though he was seemingly behaving the same way with her he had been with me, we weren’t the same. In fact, she was everything I wasn’t. So when he told me he wanted her and not me, that he was picking her over of me, how come I’d been surprised?

I would never be his first choice, not when there were thousands of others he could choose from. And it was time for my brain to learn to not interpret every kind gesture, time to learn to stop overthinking every word. It was time for my head to accept, that there was no way Harry Styles could possibly want me.

So… I had been understanding. Kind even.
I’d lied and told him that yes, I agreed that our kiss had been a mistake. We shouldn’t have done any of that and instead thought of our friendship first, rather than our impulses. I’d kept a smile on my face throughout the entire talk and even finished the short chat by wishing him good luck with her. Another lie.

My fingers shook and so I set the empty glass of my drink down quickly, worried for a moment that I might otherwise spill the last few drops. I didn’t think much when I reached for the bottle of vodka on the counter. There was no getting through this night if I didn’t have something proper to drink. If only I remembered the recipe….

“Need help?”

My shoulders tensed. It couldn’t be him. Please… anyone, literally anyone, but him.

However when I turned around, Harry was there. He stood tall and beautiful, his short hair soft and wavy. Harry’s compelling eyes held my gaze with such a tender rawness in them, my knees weakened. All my body burned for was to wrap my arms around his shoulders and have him embrace me, have him tell me that everything would be okay again. I felt like I needed it, but knew that this was a wish I would be denied. Harry must have felt it, too. It was in the air around us. It had changed and… buzzed. As if being in each other’s presence made the world halt still for a moment.

“I’m sorry,” Harry chuckled lowly when I didn’t say anything. How could he smile like everything was alright?

And what was it he was apologizing for? Abandoning our friendship? Ruining any hope I’d had to find a partner in him? Shattering my heart? Hardly.

“For scaring you,” Harry elaborated, a sudden hint of guilt in his eyes, almost as if he’d read my thoughts.

“It’s fine, Harry,” I muttered, bearing a false smile, “All good.”

It was hard to look at him. Especially his eyes. They burned a whole into my chest whenever my own orbs found them. They reminded me of the Harry he once was, the one I could always come to and rely on.

“What are you doing?” Harry asked, his head nodding towards the bottle of vodka. His forehead furrowed in a worried expression and I quickly set the container back down.

“I wanted to make myself a drink, but the recipe slipped my mind. I’m not as much of an alcoholic as it must look like.”

“Good to know,” Harry chuckled, then, visibly thinking about it first, took a step forward. “I remember what you like in your favorite drink. Could make you one.”

From how close he was standing, it was easy to notice every detail of his skin. Every curve of his lips, every hair of his barely-there beard. My stomach turned.

“That’d be nice.”

Harry smiled and nodded. “Okay.”

We avoided any touching. I was leant against the counter, he stood with a safe distance between us and only came closer when he needed a different ingredient that happened to be near me. It was awkward and… weird. It didn’t feel like ‘us’. The friends we’d been once seemed to be two completely different people. I knew him and felt he was familiar, but there was a emotional distance between us I knew neither of us could overcome. And still, I was with him and even if we behaved like strangers, being with Harry was nice.

“I think that’s it,” Harry said, breaking the silence. His eyes were set on the pink-orange liquid in my glass, then they drifted to my face. A proud smile pulled at the corners of his mouth.

“You 'think’?” I challenged shyly.

I took the glass from him (cautious not to touch his fingers) and took a sip. It tasted great.

“M'not big of a show off,” Harry grinned, “S'it good?”

I nodded and stirred the colored liquid once more. “Thanks, Harry.”

“You’re welcome, Y/N.” His voice was soft and his gaze shy.

The air around us shifted once more. My eyes teared up. What had happened to us? Harry and I… we used to be the kind of friends who didn’t stopped talking to each other for hours. At first, we’d be loud. We’d laugh and giggle so much eventually both of our tummies hurt. That was when we’d change the subject and speak more quietly, until several hours later our conversations drifted to topics only we were allowed to hear. Then we’d be whispering and sitting closer together, always an eager sparkle in the other’s eyes as we both listened with interest about what was being said.

I quickly turned away and pretended to yawn. My eyes blinked rapidly and I willed them not to cry in front of him. Not because of embarrassment, but because I couldn’t do that to him. I’d given him my okay. I had no right to be mad at him for having found someone else. Harry remained standing close and with his hands in the front pockets of his black jeans.

“I think I should go,” I muttered.

I held my head low and took a deep breath before looking at him briefly. Harry’s eyes held concern and his fingers twitched, as if he longed to reach out for me.

“Y/N, love,” he began lowly, “Do you think we could talk for a bit? S'been a while since I got to see you. Hear your voice. I missed you.”

This time when my eyes met his green orbs, I didn’t look away, even though I could feel the tears forming and coming closer to spilling over. Harry’s whole expression changed. His cheeks paled and his forehead furrowed deeper.

“I miss you, too, Harry,” I admitted, my weak voice barely above a whisper.

“No,” he mumbled, shaking his head slowly, sorrow deeply set in his eyes. His feet stepped closer and his warm hands touched my flushed cheeks before I even had the chance to back away from him. The unexpected closeness caught me off guard and had more tears coming, this time because of how much I hated how uncommon this sort of care from him had become.

Harry embraced me. His head buried itself into my neck and both arms wrapped themselves around my waist so he could lift me up from my feet. “Please no, Y/N, Sweetheart. Don’t cry.”

I couldn’t help it. My heart, the final bit that had been whole still, broke in his caring hands and I was overcome and pulled under a wave of grief. That was what I was doing. I was grieving our friendship and the lost hope I’d had for a relationship with him. And he allowed it. He let me cry against his collarbones without any complaint and instead began to hum quietly, knowing how much his voice always soothed me. Pain shot through my chest. He probably did the same when she was upset.

“I can’t-” I cried, but got cut off by my lungs that burned with need for air.

Harry hushed me, his hold tightening, “Don’t, Y/N. It’s going to be alright.”

I shook my head and loosened the hold I’d taken around his neck. My hands momentarily brushed his soft hair, then I pulled away. Harry hesitated but allowed me to step out of his hold.

“I can’t take it anymore, Harry,” I confessed, my voice breaking halfway through the sentence. I reached up to brush my cheeks with the end of my sleeve and hiccuped. My head felt numb and I knew if I didn’t get out of this kitchen soon, he’d witness a break down I wasn’t comfortable with him seeing.

Harry’s hand reached for my arm. I didn’t fight it when he pulled me closer to him, but avoided his eyes when he leaned down to find my gaze.

“Y/N,” he spoke, his voice rough with emotion, “I promise you, it’ll be alright. M'not leaving, okay? M'not. We’ll figure this out.”

I wanted to scream but all I could was shake my head rapidly. “Figure this out how? What have we become, Harry?”

Another sob wrecked through my chest.

“I don’t know,” he confessed, “But we’re going to find each other again, okay? I promise. Let me say goodbye to the others and then we’ll go for a walk or something. We’ll talk. About everything and nothing at all… Just like we always used to, yeah?”

Used to. So long ago, it seemed.

“Okay,” I whispered, my burning eyes set on my feet. My skin shivered under his warmth and my lips hurt from how much I was bitting them.

I flinched when his mouth pressed a kiss to my head. The skin was left with a burning sensation. “Wait for me here, love.”

Harry’s quick feet carried him out of the kitchen and left me standing by the counter with my heart at the pit of my stomach. I stood up straight and brushed the few remaining tears from my cheeks. My skin tingled and I felt the hint of a smile on my lips, even though my body ached.
Looking back now, I wish I would have stayed put by the counter and had waited for him just like he’d asked me to. I wish I hadn’t been impatient and eager to reunite with Harry, because that eagerness drove me to exit the kitchen shortly after him and turn the corner, allowing me clear view into the living room.
There he stood. His arms around her thin form, his hands in her long hair and his lips kissing hers. All air was knocked right out of me. I could see how his hands gently moved against her neck, bringing her in closer and their bodies flush together. When their lips parted for a moment, I could see how he let his tongue run along his lower lip, as if he wanted to make sure he got all of her taste. And I could see him smile warmly at her, right before he leaned back in to connect their mouths once more. This sight… it burned.
I didn’t wait for him. Because I had been wrong before. My heart wasn’t truly broken until that moment, witnessing the man I loved with my everything, kissing a woman who wasn’t me. And if he wasn’t going to leave me, if he was just going to keep me close and allow my heart to shatter over and over again, then I supposed I would have to be the one to go first.
So that’s what I did. I walked back to the entryway, slid on my jacket, picked up my bag, and left the house. Left, to never come back to Harry Styles.

Keep reading

Cheap Thrills (reader x Bucky Oneshot)

Characters: reader, Natasha, Sam, Clint, Tony, Bucky, OC Mark. 

Summary: A bet within the Avengers becomes a battle of the sexes, with you at the center of it. Who will be victorious and could it somehow help you snag the man of your dreams? 

Song Inspiration: Cheap Thrills by Sia

Warnings: drinking, sexist behavior? Mild violence mentioned, very subtle mention of sexy times. 

Word Count: 3.3k

A/N: This was supposed to be a short one, but eh. I’ve been living in the land of heavy angst with You are My Heaven and intense stress in my real life so when this fun, fluffy idea popped up, I ran with it. I’m working on a lot of other stuff so be patient, please! As always, I appreciate your feedback. Love each and every one of you!! 

Masterlist

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Originally posted by luvinchris

“Uh uh. No way.”

“It’s true, trust me.”

“You wanna bet?” Clint challenged the redhead across the table from him.

Natasha leaned forward and held his gaze, not an ounce of doubt in her demeanor. “Absolutely.”

It was too early in the morning for this childish banter, you thought from your seated position at the far end of the long kitchen table. You slumped forward, dipping the tea bag in and out of the steaming mug of liquid before you, then setting it on the small saucer beside it. Wrapping your hands around the cup’s warmth, your eyes unfocused as you continued to tune out the blathering of your teammates. The only other person in the room paying them no mind was Bucky, who was slouched in a cozy chair, thoroughly engrossed in a book.

“Now wait a minute,” a third voice joined the argument, “If we’re gonna do this, we gotta level the playing field a little. Nat could do this in her sleep. We need someone a little more…down to earth. How about Y/N?” Sam gestured toward you.

Blinking a few times, you finally broke out of your stupor. “Hey! I was only half listening to your stupidity, but I think I’m offended.”

Keep reading

Very light spoilers for the special, but anyway

I just noticed that in the end, when it shows everyone out at the front door, Nino is literally in the very back

HOWEVER, when they’re all coming in, Nino’s the very first one there

In other words, I am 100% convinced that Nino went “Move Bitch, Best Friend Privileges” and literally shoved everyone else out of the way, and there is nothing you could do to convince me otherwise

Side Chick

*credit to gif owner. I was sent this

A/N: Also thank you to @iknowyoufeelme for helping me brainstorm a few ideas for this imagine.

   Calum was walking an appropriate distance in front of you as you discreetly trailed behind him. Your mood at the moment was not the happiest and you were trying to keep up with the tall boy as you two made your way to class. You knew the rules of being a side chick. Never interact in public especially when Calum’s girlfriend was around, never fall for the guy you’re sleeping with, and always keep things on the down low. You’ve heard of stories where things had gone wrong and you wanted to avoid that at all costs. Though you had a safety net. Being in the same class as Calum allowed you to talk to him in public, using class work as an excuse to talk with him outside of your hook up time. “Calum,” you timidly said, trying to get his attention and weaving through the crowd as you came up close behind him. “Calum,” you repeated, reaching out to pinch at his arm only for him to pay attention to your next words. “Are we going to the frat party tonight?” you asked. The words came out loud and Calum’s head whipped around, his eyebrow rose, and he gave you a once over. Then he turned back around and continued his trek to the 1pm class. It was the action he gave when he shrugged someone off which is what he had just done to you.

Your pace quickened and soon you were walking beside him. “It was a yes or no question so don’t shrug me off,” you said in a strong voice. Entering inside the building for the Psych 102 class. Calum glanced around at his surroundings before quickly pulling you under the staircase.

“I am going to the party, but not with you…look, Y/N don’t overstep your role. I have a girlfriend and this-” he gestured between the two of you, “This does not see the daylight. Only the darkness of your bedroom or the backseat of my car. Got it?” His words came out cold and you felt a chill run down your spine at the dark stare he was giving you. Calum’s eyebrows rose in question. You swallowed hard and nodded. 

“Got it,” you whispered, almost feeling your breath being sucked out of you as Calum left. Rule number three: don’t catch feelings. That was hard not to do. Sure you enjoyed the sex, but after hooking up with Calum so many times how could you not fall for him? His girlfriend was getting everything you wanted. Calum was emotionally and sexually available for her, but of course there had to be something wrong with his relationship if he was seeking sex from you. You waited a couple of minutes before walking out from under the staircase. Minutes later you entered the classroom and sat two rows and one spot away in front of Calum. No contact whatsoever. 

You chin rested in the palm of your hand as you scribbled down some notes that were written up on the slide. You felt yourself begin to doze off and your eyes landed on the clock rested above the whiteboard. A small groan left your lips as you realized there was still fifteen minutes left of class. Throughout the whole lesson your instructor had been rambling on about dreams connection to memory. You had gone into your own thoughts. Thinking mostly of Calum and how you felt about being in the situation that you were in. Your head tilted to the side and you took a glance at the Kiwi boy. Calum looked bored with the lesson. He was leaning back in his seat with crossed arms and an expression you couldn’t quite read. You felt a tap on your shoulder and your attention was brought to the person sitting next to you. You stared at the guy and your mind raced to place a name to the face. “Hey are you going to the Alpha Omega frat party tonight?” he asked. Eric Knight, you thought to yourself. The two of you had often talked, but it had never gone more then at least five sentences to one another.

“Uh maybe not. I have a ten page paper to write for English,” you lied. Truth was you had finished that paper three days ago, but you remembered Calum saying that he was going to be at the party with his girlfriend. Him being at the party with her meant that you couldn’t attend. Rule number six: never be in the same location as the main chick.

“Awe come on! You’re the life of the party without you there it’d just be bleh,” Eric smiled, playfully nudging you in the side. You chuckled at his words and shrugged your shoulders. 

“I’ll think about it,” you told him, “Not making any promises though.” Eric’s smile grew into a grin and he nodded at your words. His smile only made you smile.

“Well I hope you do come,” he last said, starting to pack his stuff up. You looked around and realized everyone else was also doing the same. Eric gave you a wave goodbye and left out the room. You smiled to yourself and began to pack up your stuff. Your teeth sunk into your bottom lip and you shook your head to stop the thoughts that were running through your mind. Your conversations with Eric usually ended in that way. His charm rubbing off on you in a good way. He was always flirting with you and often times wanted to hang out. Though your small banters only stayed behind the classroom and at parties. 

Calum was leaning against the wall next to the door when you left the classroom. He’d never wait on you unless he was in the mood, but as you looked at him quizzically you could tell that wasn’t the case now. You didn’t allow him to say a word only brushing past him at a quick pace. Calum had told you to stay in your place and so that’s what you were going to do. “Don’t ignore me,” Calum said, his voice sounding raspy. His chest was pressed up against your back and for some reason the action made your core throb. Luckily for the both of you the hallway was packed as everyone was leaving the building or traveling to their next class. You kept quiet and waited for him to say something else. “What did Eric want?” Calum questioned, pinching at your hip. 

“He was asking if I was going to the party,” you told Calum. He let out a low chuckle at your words and without turning around you could already see him shaking his head. 

“You’re not going. I’m gonna be there with Ria remember,” he said, “I don’t want you anywhere near her.” You frowned at Calum’s words and let out a huff. Your social life basically didn’t exist anymore because Calum was always going to be at some party or event with his girlfriend. It irked you to the core and you knew your friends were starting to worry.

“I told him I wasn’t going, so cool yourself alright,” you snapped. Calum smirked at the reaction he got from you. His eyes scanning over your backside for a second. His hand reached out to grab your elbow and to make you stop walking. You let out a deep sigh and you turned to look at him. 

“Why don’t we sneak away to our little spot,” Calum suggested, wanting to take your mind off the party. “I can do that thing you wanted,” he smirked. You rolled your eyes and pulled away from his touch. 

“You have to meet Ria in five minutes and I’m hungry, so I think I’ll pass.” With that said you walked from him and headed towards the Dining Hall. As much as you wanted to feel Calum inside of you, you were also pissed off at him. In spite you had decided on going to the party. Just for one night you didn’t want to be Calum’s side chick. You wanted to enjoy yourself and who was he to tell you not to.

     Your friends hooted in happiness as you walked out your room dressed up for the party. “YOU LOOK HOT!” your best friend, Deandra, shouted. “Give me a twirl girl,” she said spinning her finger around. You laughed in delight and turned around to show them the back of your outfit. They cheered even more which only made you laugh harder. It had been a long time since you had gone out with the girls. Calum was the main reason for that. The only person that knew you were a side chick was Deandra. Though she didn’t approve of it you were still her best friend and she wasn’t going to love you any less. 

“Alright, alright let’s go before I completely back out of this idea,” you said, grabbing your phone from off the charger. Everyone began to leave your shared apartment and made their way out to the car. Deandra stayed behind with you and waited till the room was clear before speaking.

“Have fun tonight and please don’t let that ass-hat stop you from having a good time,” she said. You smiled at her words and nodded. The two of you left to catch up with the rest of the group. You were about to break rule number six. As long as you stayed a safe distance away from Calum and his girl you should be fine.

Music was blasting loud in your ears and the smell of alcohol instantly hit you as you entered the frat house. You smiled at the sight in front of you; a crowd of diverse people all having fun, drinking, and dancing. You had missed the party scene it almost felt like you were home and a warm feeling of comfort slid down your spine. You followed your group of friends, weaving through everyone until you made it into the kitchen. One of your friends grabbed a cup from off the counter and picked up a bottle of alcohol. “Ladies let’s toast to commemorate Y/N for finally leaving her damn apartment and joining us once again on a party night!” she said, raising the bottle high in the air. You rolled your eyes at her words and raised your empty cup in the air with everyone else. 

“Well let’s party then!” you shouted, earning cheers from everyone that was in close proximity of your group. You laughed loudly and grabbed the bottle of alcohol from your friend, pouring it in your cup, and mixing it with some soda. Everyone dispersed and you found yourself joining a group of people watching a game of beer pong. You sipped on your drink and turned away from the game to scan over the room. Not too far away you spotted Calum with his own group of friends. His arm was draped around Ria and whispering in her ear about something. He hadn’t noticed you yet which was good. 

“You came!” a familiar voice yelled. You turned around to see Eric. He had changed into a button down shirt and jeans. His light brown hair hidden underneath a snapback just a few strands of it poking out. Your eyes lit up and you embraced him in a hug.

“Yeah I thought why not have some fun ya know,” you said, pulling away from him. “Who did you come with?” you asked, feeling Eric’s hand grab yours and pull you away from the game. 

“I came with a few of the guys. They’re somewhere around probably out back,” Eric said loud enough for you to hear. “What about you?” he asked, pulling you into a corner of the living room.

“I came with my friends too,” you told him, back pressed against the wall as you leaned against it. “It’s been a while since I last came to one of these,” you admitted raising the cup up to your lips. Eric nodded at your words and his arm draped over your shoulder. He pointed over to a crowd of people and brought your attention to it.

“Well one thing you’ve missed is that now there are bets placed on how long some of the guys can stay up on the beer keg,” he explained, “My bets on Cooper over there. So far he’s won by ten minutes.” You laughed at the news and then scrunched your face up. 

“Uh I’m not one for gambling,” you chuckled, looking over to him. Eric nodded at your words and instead pulled you towards the center where everyone was dancing. Eric began to shimmy around in his spot and rocked his hips to the music.

“I know you can dance beautiful, so show me what you got!” he yelled making everyone’s attention land on the two of you. You began to laugh and started to dance to the music. Your favorite song came on and Eric pulled you into him. You turned around and began to grind into him, feeling his hands land on your hips. It had been such a long time since you had let loose and the alcohol running through your veins only elevated your experience. It all seemed to end quickly when you caught Calum’s eye. He was in the middle of kissing Ria, but his eyes were trained on you. Your shook your head and tried to focus on the hot guy you were dancing with. Calum’s stare was making you uncomfortable and you turned around to face Eric. “Are you okay?” he asked, noticing your smile had faded. 

“Yeah. Hey do you want to go somewhere?” you questioned, jutting your thumb over your shoulder towards the exit. You were both swaying to the music now and Eric nodded. You could still feel Calum’s stare and you shifted in your spot. “I’m kinda craving some Mickey D’s fries and I believe I saw one down the street,” you explained, “So I was thinking maybe we could leave the party for a bit and do a quick food run.” Eric looked down at his feet and a small smile embraced his face. 

“That actually sounds like a great idea,” he said, his hand sliding down your arm and interlocking your fingers together. He pulled you towards the door and you both made your way to the McDonald’s that was down the street. It was a bit chilly out as the both of you walked and continued to talk some more. “Can I admit something though?” Eric asked after a while as your laughter died down. You nodded and went quiet as you waited for what he had to say. Instead he held the door open for you and you walked into the fast food restaurant. You were still a bit on edge from Calum’s staring and the fact that Eric hasn’t told you what he wanted only increased it. “Two large fries and two sweet teas,” he said, pulling out his wallet to pay. Once you got your order, you both went to find a seat. 

“So what did you want to admit?” you giggled in a teasing tone, sliding into a booth that was in the back corner. Eric slid in next to you, his arm resting over your shoulder. You began to munch on the salty treat and turned in your spot to give him your undivided attention.

“I’m glad you came tonight because it gives me the opportu-”

“Y/N! Eric!” the familiar voice exclaimed. You let out a groan and looked up to see Calum. Ria was latched onto his arm and his three best friends were behind him. “Didn’t expect to run into the two of you here,” he smirked. You rolled your eyes and Calum pointed at the empty space inside the booth. “Mind if we join you?” he questioned. You could see the look in Calum’s eyes and knew what was happening. He was jealous. The type of jealous that made you question just exactly where the two of you stood in your “relationship.”

BTS Masterlist

REQUESTS ARE CLOSED

Originally posted by sugataecups

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#SherlockLives: The Resurrection

The day is April 23rd, 2017.  It’s an ordinary Sunday afternoon in London.

The crowd bustles, trains whirr, birds chirp.

Life in the city is business as usual.

Three teenage girls take photographs outside 187 North Gower Street, soaking in the ambiance of the Sherlock set.  They step into Speedy’s for a cup of coffee.

The women lament over the loss of their favorite show. On March 8th, the BBC announced Sherlock would not be returning for a fifth series, and cowriters Steven Moffat and Mark Gatiss were quick to assure their fans that it was time to lay the beloved program to rest.

But what the women saw next changed their lives forever.

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I’ve been thinking a lot lately about how and why I always knew we could trust Delphine, and I think I finally know why- Even when it looked like she had betrayed the clones- I always knew she hadn’t. I think it has something to do with their first kiss.

I don’t mean that first kiss they both consented to that led to sex, I mean their FIRST kiss. The one where Cosima kissed her, and Delphine was shocked and she fled.

Delphine’s job was to blend in, become part of Cosima’s life however she could, and not let her cover be blown. And if that was her soul mission, if it was always just to play her role as monitor, she would’ve let Cosima do whatever she wanted. She would’ve kissed back, pretended that everything was normal, but she literally froze. She was shocked and terrified and she left in a bundle of nerves, and I think that’s the thing that always assured me that even so close to the beginning, she wasn’t just playing a part.

I think that kiss scared Delphine, because she didn’t understand why she enjoyed it, why she didn’t want to pull away, why it was so easy for her to go back and kiss Cosima for real. Paul was bad at his job of blending in. He let Beth and eventually Sarah do whatever they wanted. He didn’t act like he was scared or nervous about the relationship, because he was simply playing a part. And then the thing that clued him in was when he suddenly felt differently about a woman who was supposed to have already been with for years.

But Delphine was instantly attached, terrified of this new feeling that she had for Cosima. She told Leekie about the kiss, and when she went back Cosima was perfectly fine with just being friends. Delphine could have easily continued her mission as friends from a safe distance. But she insisted they be more. Maybe it was partially just to be closer to her, but I think even then she really did want it. And even after their first time together, she didn’t tell DYAD about Kira. She cared from the very start, and from that very first time she was already using her position of power to protect a woman she barely knew but was suddenly feeling things for that she hadn’t even dreamed possible.

oceansv  asked:

Hi 😊 I wanted to ask you something. Sea lions often approach divers and people they find swimming where they are. As people must keep a certain distance and not go and approach some animals (whales and dolphins, for example) unless the animal decides to get close, I was wondering if it's okay to be so near them in the water, in case sea lions are the ones that approach people. Thank you!

It’s a great question! Watching marine mammals in their natural habitat can be a great way to learn about the environment and promote conservation (plus, it’s fun!). But it’s always important to give animals lots of space to live their lives and carry out their daily activities. Getting too close can make it harder for animals to feed or rest, which in turn makes it harder for them to survive. With that in mind, as you point out, the Marine Mammal Protection Act prohibits harassing marine mammals in the wild. 

In general, guidelines include:

  • observing wild dolphins, porpoises, and seals from a safe distance of at least 50 yards by land or sea
  • observing large whales from a safe distance of at least 100 yards by land or sea
  • using binoculars or telephoto lenses to see better without getting too close
  • avoiding abrupt movements or circling and entrapping marine mammals between watercraft, or between watercraft and shore.

Still, like you say, sea lions and other animals are quite curious and often do approach divers! Case in point:

Photo in Olympic Coast National Marine Sanctuary; credit David J. Ruck/NOAA

So what do you do when this happens?

Typically, if you see an animal or it approaches you, the best way to go is to remain calm, watch it, and don’t attempt to interact with it. Don’t get any closer than it wants to get, and when it decides to swim away, let it; don’t follow it!

Basically, you shouldn’t closely approach or attempt to interact with marine mammals in the wild – but if they come to you, you can watch calmly. But never attempt to pet, touch, or feed them!

You can find more information about viewing guidelines here and about good ocean etiquette here.

Thanks for taking care of our ocean’s amazing mammals!