Six Sentence Sunday (except on Monday)

From A Dropped Call, the next chapter of Special Relationship:

“Pick up, pick up, pick up,” she pleaded, her throat constricting with each ring. Finally, after four rings, she heard a familiar voice: “This is Steve.”

Peggy opened her mouth, but she couldn’t force any words past her lips. She let out a breath that sort of sounded like his name.

“Peggy? What’s wrong?”

“S—Steve. Steve. I—I can’t—”

Healthy Habits Challenge

So, I’m done w/week 2 of IF. Meaning I’ve completed it, not that I’m finished with it. I made it 6 out of 7 days, and I feel great! My pants have started to feel more like I can fit into them again, which was the main point. My bras too feel better. I’m in week 3 now and I think I’ll keep this up until my vacation later in April.



Don’t Say It

Summary: Y/N gets tired of waiting around for Dean when he shows up unexpectedly 

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Word Count: 1029

Warnings: Angst

A/N: This is definitely a day late but hopefully not a dollar short! This is written for @impalaimagining 1k celebration! The fic is based off of the song I Know You Won’t by Carrie Underwood. Thanks @megansescape for the beta!

It was late at night and your house was quiet, any noise made would echo through the empty halls. You had taken everything and packed it away. You only had one box left to take to your car, but you would do that in the morning. You had one foot on the stairs, ready for bed, when you heard that familiar knock at your door. It was hard, but not angry, you knew the person on the other side of the door just couldn’t wait to get in. There was only one person who would knock like that, Dean Winchester. You froze in place, unsure if you were going to open the door or not.  You hadn’t seen him in four months and you hadn’t talked to him in two. The last time he contacted you was when he sent a picture of Sam’s arm asking if it needed stitches. Since you worked as a vet, you were always able to stitch whatever wound Dean appeared at your door with or give him substantial medical advice.

You made your way to the door expecting to see Dean, beaten and cut up, but to your surprise, he was fully intact. “Dean? What are you-”

Before you could finish, he engulfed you in a hug. “I’ve missed you so much, baby.”

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Blue Christmas (Part 2)

Read Part One here

The four boys burst into the hospital and, running past scolding nurses and irritated patients, nearly missed colliding straight into the stocky frame of Chief Hopper. He stood squarely in front of his daughter’s room and stared down at her best friends with an intimidating glare. The kids froze instantly—Mike was afraid to breathe, and Dustin nearly dropped the wrapped gift in his hands. The shyest of the bunch was the first to speak up, though.

“Um, hi, Hopper! Mom said that she heard El’s feeling better, and we came over here as fast as we could!” said Will brightly.

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Day 4: Love Potion

A day late (well, two) and a dollar short, but finally managed something for omgcp 14 days of love :)

Dex was trying to ignore the buzzing of his phone. Obviously something was going on in the group chat, but he had a huge project due in two days and couldn’t afford any distractions. His phone kept vibrating - Holster had probably found a new meme he had to share or something - and he threw it on to his bed where at least the buzzing would be muffled. It worked for about 2 minutes, until his phone rang. Grumbling, he rolled his chair over to the bed and picked it up. He frowned when he saw Bitty’s name.

“Bitty? Listen, if it’s Betsy, I’m really busy right now, can I come -”

“Dex. You need to come to the haus right now. It’s Nursey.” Bitty’s voice was firm.

“Is he okay?” Dex bolted out of his chair and shoved his shoes on, halfway out the door before Bitty could answer.

“He’s -” Yelling in the background cut him off.

“Bitty! Bits! Eric! Where did you goooooooooo?”

“I’ll explain when you get here, okay Dex? He’s not injured, but I need help.”

“Already halfway there Bitty, don’t worry.” Dex hung up and started to run in the direction of the Haus.

When he arrived at the Haus, he could hear Bitty in the kitchen and what sounded like Nursey and Chow somewhere in the area of the living room. “Bitty?”

“Dex, thank goodness.” Bitty popped his head out of the kitchen. “Come here.”

“What’s going on?” Dex asked warily.

“Just look.” Bitty walked him through to the living where, sure enough, he had heard Nursey and Chowder. Nursey was sprawled on the floor, Chowder on top of Nursey, trying to hold him in place. His arms and legs were flailing all over the place, and Chowder looked like he was having trouble keeping the limbs away from him.

“What.” Dex said flatly.

“Oh hey Dex,” Nursey said, his voice completely normal until he caught sight of Bitty. “Bitty! Eric! Why do you keep leeeeeaving meeeeee? Tell Chow to get off! Bittyyyyyyyyyy! Save me, you beautiful man! I’ll do all your dishes for the rest of my life, I’ll buy you all the good butter, pleeeeeeaaaaaseeeeee.”

“What.” Dex repeated. Chow had been silent through most of this, but finally managed to clap a hand over Nursey’s mouth and silence some of the noise.

“Bitty! Kitchen! Now! Explain there!” Chowder hissed, rearranging himself to pin down Nursey’s flailing left arm.

Bitty hustled Dex back into the kitchen, where Dex stared at him while Bitty stirred something on the stove.

“What did I just see?”

“Did you give Nursey a box of chocolates today?” Bitty asked, ignoring the question.

“Uh no, Nurse hates chocolate for his birthday.” Dex scoffed. “Wait, why? What’s going on?”

“Someone left him this box of chocolates,” Bitty pushed the box towards him - Dex hadn’t even noticed it on the counter - and continued, “He brought them here and ate a few and then…” he shrugged.

“Bitty, that sounds like a love potion.” Dex said. Bitty nodded. “Bitty, Derek’s an elf. He’s immune.”

“That’s what I thought too,” Bitty said, his nose wrinkling. “But they used unicorn blood.”

Dex sniffed at the chocolates, recoiling when he smelled the same thing Bitty had. “And you asked me if I gave them to him!?”

“I asked Chowder too,” Bitty said. “Because when a love potion is made with unicorn blood, it doesn’t have any effect any on people the user already has feelings for, and he said he had one before he saw you this morning and that didn’t have any effect. And there wasn’t any effect when he saw Chowder.” He glanced at Dex, whose ears were slowly turning red. “Anyways, I thought it might have been a prank, and you just didn’t realize they were made with unicorn blood - I don’t think you would have been able to smell it through the packaging, it’s pretty faint.”

“So how do we fix it? Just wait for it to wear off or…?”

“Please, no.” Bitty scoffed. “We all have things to do today and I can’t expect Chowder to keep sitting on him. The antidote is almost done.” He gestured towards the stove. “I just need you two to keep Nursey occupied. And he might want a friendly face around afterwards, love potions can be kind of embarrassing.”

“Most people don’t find my face friendly,” Dex told Bitty, smiling so his fangs showed.

“You know what I mean,” Bitty said, rolling his eyes. “Now go help Chowder with Nursey while I finish this. It should only be a few more minutes.”

Dex nods at Bitty, watching him flick the wooden spoon into a slow stir before he turns back to his potion book, the pages flipping in front of him while he looks between that and his phone, probably texting Jack about the whole silly situation. Reassured that Bitty had everything under control, he headed back to the living room.

Nursey has calmed down, though he’s not sure if it’s because Bitty is out of sight or because Chow is sprawled out on top of him, licking his paw.

“Really Chow? A lion? What if one of the frogs walks in here, you’re going to give them a heart attack.”

Chowder blinks slowly at him, then goes back to licking his paw as if to say “whatever”.

Dex plops down next to Nursey, who smiles up at him.

“Hey Nursey, you got yourself into some trouble huh?” Dex poked the other boy’s cheek.

“It wasn’t on purpose,” Nursey pouted. “I thought the chocolates were from you.”

“You hate chocolates on your birthday,” Dex pointed out.

“Yes but I like chocolate in general, so…” Nursey tried to shrug, but had a hard time considering he was pinned to the living room floor by a Chow-lion.

“You’re an idiot,” Dex told him. “Come on, let’s get you on the couch while we wait.”

“What are we waiting for, is Bitty coming back?”

“Oh my god,” Dex didn’t know whether he wanted to slap Nursey or feel bad for him.

Dex and Chowder managed to get Nursey to the couch, where Dex sits on his legs and Chow, now a lynx, curls up on his chest while they wait. Dex flicked idly through the channels before settling on ESPN. They made it halfway through a Top 10 Countdown before Dex’s phone vibrated.

“Be cool Sodapop, lover boy is coming,” Dex told Nursey. Chowder shifted back and grabbed Nursey’s arms before he could flail himself off the couch.

“Dex, why would you tell him that? He’s yours for the rest of the night, I swear.”

Bitty poked his head into the living room. “Safe to come in?”

“Yeah, we got him,” Chow said, talking over Nursey’s whining, “Come on in.”

Bitty brought a glass of green liquid with him and held it out to Nursey. “Hey Derek, this is for you.”

“Aw Bitty, you made me a drink! Thank you!!” Nursey took it without hesitation and gulped it down, nearly choking on the last sip as he realized how terrible it tasted. “Are you trying to poison me!?”

“That’s an antidote, actually,” Chowder told him as Nursey’s face turned slightly green. “You ate chocolates dosed with a love potion that actually works on elves.”

“And then you fell in love with Bitty,” Dex told him gleefully.

“At least he would cook for me,” Nursey stuck his tongue out. “Wait, why Bitty and not you?”

“That potion only works on people you don’t already have feelings for,” Bitty told him, glancing quickly at Chowder and then Dex.

“Uh, speaking of that,” Chowder said quietly, “I think we have something we should tell you.”

Nursey = Elf
Dex = vampire
Chowder = shapeshifter
Bitty = kitchen witch (duh)

Nursey is def. a cat person so Chow stayed with cat-like animals for him cause he’s a good guy like that

MariChat May Day 18: Rejection.

A day late and a dollar short, I’m afraid, but sometimes life happens just a little too fast to keep up.  I’m not sure whether I will get today’s done today, or not.  My grandmother is terminally ill, and we’re on the death watch.  The writing is helping me cope, but I’m not sure how much time I’ll be able to put into it over the coming days.  Thanks to everyone who is reading and commenting, you guys are wonderful.  ^_^

I ended up writing something very similar to what @freedom-shamrock came up with, and @marinette-buginette too, I think, though it was completely unintentional.  Great minds, and all that.  ;)

This is for @frostedpuffs!

Marinette sat listlessly at her desk chair with her knees pulled up to her chest and her arms wrapped loosely around them.  A plate of cookies sat untouched on her desk, evidence of her mother’s attempt to cheer her up.  She sighed dejectedly.  “I should have known better than to get my hopes up, Tikki.  They’ve only chosen a 17 year old twice before, so I knew it was a long shot.  But I’d felt so sure…”

“Oh Marinette, hope is never a bad thing.”  Her kwami nuzzled closer, offering comfort the only way she knew how.  “You’ll have a whole year to get better, and then you can apply again.”

“I know, Tik.  I just had my heart set on doing it this year.  I guess I didn’t even consider the possibility that—”

There was a tell-tale thump overhead, and Tikki dove into her hidden nest just as a shadow fell over the skylight.  Marinette waved him in without rising.  “What are you doing here so early?  It’s nowhere near dark yet,” she said as he dropped in through the skylight.

“Well hello to you too, Princess.”

She winced, and dropped her feet from the chair as he settled on the floor next to her.  “Sorry.  I don’t mean to be snippy.”

He folded his arms over her lap, and rested his chin on them.  “What’s bugging you?”

She snickered at his unintentional pun, and waved away his curious look with a blush.  No way was she explaining that.  She began toying with his hair absently.  “I didn’t get that internship.”

“Wait, what?”  He straightened abruptly, a surprised frown on his face.  “But I thought— er, I’d have thought you’d be a shoo-in.”

“Apparently, I did, too.” She laughed mirthlessly.  “I’d thought that I had a realistic view of my chances.  I knew it wasn’t likely, and I’d thought I was ok with that.”

“Not so much?” He put his head back on his arms, and sighed happily when her fingers returned to his hair.

“Not so much.”  She agreed, running her fingers over his black cat ears, and he shivered.

“You’re wrong, though.  About it not being likely.”

“Oh, Chat.  Thank you.  But I’m young and inexperienced and they almost always choose someone in their first year at University.  I knew that.”

“Almost always.  They will take on a younger intern when there’s enough raw talent, right?  And you have that coming out of your ears.”

She giggled, scratching his scalp gently.  “I’m glad you’re here, Chaton.”

He melted completely against her, his purr rumbling in his chest, and his eyes slid closed.  “No place I’d rather be, Princess.”

Sherlolly Appreciation Week 2017 Day 3: First Kiss

Yes, yes, it’s a day late and a dollar short, but here it is!

Not Something They Agree On

Molly says the first two don’t count. They were meant as an apology and a sort of goodbye. Besides, they were on the cheek.

Sherlock maintains that they were both sincere and, although he didn’t consciously realize at the time, they were also both romantic in nature and therefore they do count.

John refuses to arbitrate, as does Lestrade. They don’t even consider asking Mycroft and Sherlock knows Meena will side with Molly so he nixes that idea in the bud. Then he has to apologize to Molly because he nixed it in the bud before she even drew breath to suggest it and she hates it when he does that, cuts her off before the words do more than form in her mind. That kiss, unquestionably, is romantic and apologetic, quite consciously so. But it’s not in the running because it’s their seventeenth kiss (by his counting, fifteenth by hers and thus their ongoing conundrum).

Mrs. Hudson is chosen as the final court of appeals, after Sherlock (allowing Molly to actually make the suggestion out loud this time) claims that his parents would be just as biased as Meena. Biased towards Molly, not their own son, as they adore her and won’t hear a word against her. (Not that anyone tries, certainly not Mycroft after receiving a lovely shiner because of some snide comment he’d made that Molly shrugged off but Sherlock…well, he’s awfully proud of that shiner.)

“Oh, love, sorry, but I’m with Molly. Those first two don’t count. I mean, yes, they were kisses and very sweet ones, at least the one I saw you give her - oh, and wasn’t that unexpected! Molly, did you know we’d none of us ever heard him sincerely apologize to anyone like that before? Not even me, and I’ve known him longest, never mind what Greg claims. He’s a dear boy but a bit forgetful at times.”

Sherlock’s eyes sort of glaze over midway through Mrs. Hudson’s speech but Molly is grinning and squeezing his hand the entire time. When she falls silent, beaming at the two of them as if she were some benevolent goddess offering her blessing (and in a way, that’s exactly what she’s doing, at least in Molly’s mind), Sherlock huffs out an annoyed breath. But he’s agreed that Mrs. Hudson has the last word on the subject and so he shrugs and offers Molly a smile of his own. 

“Fine,” he says, pulling her close to his side, his arm around her shoulder. “The first kiss was the one we shared in your flat after I explained about Eurus and you patched up my splintered hands and told me what an ass I was.”

“Bastard,” Molly corrects him, her grin widening. “I’ve never called you an ass.” She turns her smile on Mrs. Hudson. “Thank you. He may be clever but sometimes he just doesn’t get it.”

And Mrs. Hudson nods in agreement, then heads back down to her own flat, leaving the two love-birds to add to their growing stockpile of kisses.

Now if only those kisses could lead to grand-tenants, her life would be complete.

Hellfire - Part 3 (final)

Summary: Dean and Y/N meet in hell, befriending each other, trying to hold onto their humanity. What happens when Dean gets saved and Y/N doesn’t?

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Word Count: 2373

Warnings: Angst, torture, violence, ya know, things that happen in Hell

A/N: Sorry for being a day late (hopefully it’s not a dollar short) but here’s the final part!!

A/N 2: This series would not have happened if it weren’t for @impala-dreamer. She beta’d this whole thing, listened to me whine about it, and made this kick ass aesthetic for it!

PART 1    Part 2


Sam and Mary walked into the room without saying a word. Sam put the purified blood on the table and Mary put the extra containers of holy water next to it.

Dean sucked in a sharp breath and let it out slowly, “Can I talk to you guys outside?”

You rolled your eyes, “Sure, go have you little family meeting, I’ll just be right here, waiting.”

After everyone was out of the room Dean closed the door behind him. “Mom, I think you should go. You don’t want to stick around to see this. You too Sam, you should go.”

Sam and Mary looked at each other coming to an agreement, “We’re going to stay. Besides, I know the latin incantations by heart.”

Dean cleared his throat, “Ok then, let’s get this started.”

All three of them walked back into the room, each with somber looks on their faces.

“Aw, you all look so sad. Did Dean tell you that this will probably kill me?” You paused for a moment and continued when no one gave a response. “Well I guess he didn’t. Glad I could have some attendance for my second funeral.”

Sam turned to Dean asking, “What is she talking about?”

“Well glad you asked Sammy. You see, my real body is rotting in the ground somewhere, this is just my demonic form. I am 100% demon and you’re trying to make me 0% demon which will likely kill me.”

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The Destructive and Useless Nature of Revenge

——- AKA the Tragedy of Seidou Takizawa ——-

If anyone doesn’t know the backround of what exactly the purpose of the Takizawa, Tatara, Houji shenanigians was pre-chapter 89, or what I think the sad nature of how their fight turned out to be means, and how terribly sad I feel about Seidou and any positive outcome for it here I go…

Tatara’s Retribution Through Seidou

To make a long story short Takizawa’s old boss Houji was at one point transfered to China to help take care of a ghoul group called “Chi She Lian”. This group was headed by Tatara’s older brother Yan, and also contained Tatara and friend Fei. Houji’s group defeated Chi She Lian and having killed Yan and Fei Houji became the owner of quinques made from both of them.

These where the Quinque Houji gave Takizawa “Douhi” (Fei) and Houji’s dual quinque “Che She” (Yan). (I’m probably forgetting another but whatever).

So, Originally Tatara was seemingly supposed to catch Amon during the Anteiku raid due to Eto’s interest in him as a test subject, But Tatara seemed to see an opportunity in rounding up CCG investigators for Eto’s project, and made sure to capture Houji’s underling.

The revenge message was simple, “You steal my loved ones and comrades and use them against me? (Fei and Yan), I’ll take a person you care about and use them as a weapon against your kind” (Takizawa Houji’s underling). This act of revenge turned out we know now to be his undoing. The revenge for what the CCG has been doing for decades quinques.

The Worthless Fight

The fight between Houji and Tatara was short and accomplished nothing. Tatara grandstanded copying his brother kakuja and Houji waxing poetic about fire and hatred. It barely went anywhere and accomplished nothing, all do to one unforeseen person of collateral damage, and I think that was the point.

I think that’s the point. In the world of Tokyo Ghoul revenge has no purpose except destruction. Houji and Tatara represent one piece of the cycle of Ghoul/Human hatred. You stab me I stab you. The cycle continues. Having the revenge play out either way would not have any necessary forward movement to this story’s plot that hasn’t been shown in other arcs (such as the Mado/Every-Ghoul plot in TG. Because whether Hinami wanedt it or not their action led to the vengeance to continue to Akira). However because it failed on both side it illustrates another point.

1. The Cycle goes nowhere and only destroys people in it and those around it. Takizawa originally had nothing to do with the fight between Tatara and Houji. He was just some kid who went into the CCG because his mother was afraid of ghouls and society gave him the idea he could help others and become a hero by doing so. He originally had next to nothing even to do with the people directly in the cycle of revenge, his downfall was literally only being the underling of the wrong person, and doing the right thing by listening to Akira when she rightfully thought Amon was in danger.

2. The Tatara/Houji Revenge shows the nature of what can go wrong with revenge. Tatara was blinded to everything but his revenge and probably didn’t even think about Takizawa as a person let alone how Takizawa’s feelings and emotions could effect everything, and it destroyed him. Not to sound like Houji but the revenge spread like an Arsonist’s fire consuming everything around it and bringing the building down on everyone involved.

Everyone involved in the revenge plot was left in pain or dead and completely unsatisfied, illustrating how the revenge cycle accomplishes nothing but spreading pain. The Point of the fight and Tatara and Houji’s deaths being pointless is that the revenge is pointless! All Houji’s men but Akira died, Takizawa’s madness made him act out a perversion of his original goal. No one got revenge except the person wrongfully dragged in an that wasn’t satisfactory to him either.

Tatara’s Flashback is also important because it make reference to the only solution to to the cycle of Ghoul/Human revenge. Did Arima find what he was looking for? Will the cycle ever be broken by the new OEK? Because that will be the only way people like Tatara will ever find peace.

What good could come out of this?

I can only think of one thing, Akira.

Recently Ishida posted a drawing of Akira releasing a handful of clover on his Twitter feed. Clover has always been a reference to Hinami. Hinami and Akira both hold places opposite one another in the cycle of revenge.

Perhaps Akira seeing how much revenge can destroy, and learning the possible humanity of ghouls through Sasaki will let go of a need to avenge her father, perhaps through still caring about Takizawa to some extent, she’ll accept the evil deeds her father commited in the name of revenge as such despite her love for him.

I’m not gonna lie was hoping Ishida would have done more with Tatara and Houji’s characters with all the mystery surrounding them, (maybe we will learn more?) But I also like what Ishida did, he made the revenge feel as empty and needlessly destructive for the reader as it was for those involved… That was meant as a compliment

hobih  asked:

sobrina pls!!!

  • softness, soft colors that sit well with each other and don’t shout over one another – a stability within that softness
  • bells chiming at the end of something, a notice that things have passed – only bringing content feelings
  • a lot going on in a good heart, tangled up words that lead to awkward laughter

send me your name and i’ll answer with 3-5 things it reminds me of

She is Love

Written for @impalaimagining‘s 300 Follower Celebration! I’m sorry it’s a day late. Hopefully it’s not a dollar short ;)

Prompt: She is Love by Parachutes

Word Count: 1.1k

Warnings: none

Beta’d by @impala-dreamer. Thank you Sammy sister wife!

If Sam could recount all the things that you were to him, he would, but that was nearly impossible as you were so many, many things to him. As he laid on his side, your warm body softly nestled into the curve of his and his finger trailing lightly on your arm, he saw all the things you were, the sum of which was love, and that love came in many forms over the years.

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Day 5 - Write a Letter to Anybody


My dearest child,
I’m told to write a letter to anybody
and for the first time in all thirty years
of your mama’s life-
she does not know what to say.

There’s plenty of people I got words for
and yet this poem is still two days late.

My dearest child,
This is not how I meant to start your letter.
You might as well know now
that your mama is a mess of late starts
and unfinished endings but
I always have the best intentions.

So, I’m sorry in advance for my decisions
but please remember your mother is human.

My dearest child,
if you are to ever read this love letter
then that means you are here
and these tears that I spilled over your possibility
are a painful memory and not a haunting present.

Which means you are more than a dream
and you have made sense of my existence.

My dearest child,
I don’t know the man I made you with.
Again, my apologies but I wanted you more
than I had the time to figure him out
and I knew I would love you enough for us both.

But just the same you deserve our all
so I hope your daddy is the GOAT.

My dearest child,
I usually write about niggas who could
never fulfill me the way you do.
But niggas are in abundance and there’s
no guarantee I’ll have you.

This is why I don’t write of dreams
I’m too afraid won’t come true.

My dearest child,
You are loved, however you are
and however you aren’t.
I’ll fight this cursed womb forever,
pleading for it to let you be.

And I will love you all my life
even if we never meet.

Crimsennui Week, Day Three : Ungoth 

Mornings are tough, especially when you have to go to bed without your makeup, wig, and contact lens.
Don’t talk to them until they’ve had their coffee