but the second one when he does that smile crying

Can I tell you something?

Can I ask you something?

It was a slow day at the auto-repair shop in the town-of-the-month, so you were let off early.

Sam and Dean weren’t due to be picked up from school for another couple hours and your dad was still out on a hunt, so you went back to the motel with the intention of getting some rest.

As you let yourself in, however, you realised the room wasn’t as empty as it was supposed to be.

“Dean.”

Your voice was low, commanding, and he looked up at you with a hint of regret in his eyes.

“Y/N, I-”

“Should be in school, yes, you should,” you finished for him, closing the door and walking over to him. You took a seat opposite him, running a hand over your face in frustration. “You can’t keep skipping.”

“You don’t understand,” he sighed.

“I understand perfectly,” you assured him. “You don’t like going to school because you think you’re stupid - which, you’re so not, by the way - and you want to go hunt with Dad.”

“Or work at the shop with you,” he added, and it was your turn to sigh.

Keep reading

Piece by Piece

That feel when you’re studying hyperpituitarism and suddenly get hit big time by the inspiration bug and something just spills out. Was going to be a quick text post and basically became a short fic on why Timkon is so fucking beautiful and I’m a bit emotional now. Time: 35 minutes done straight through, no edits.


Superboy fell in love with Timothy Drake piece by piece before he ever knew what love was. To him there was never really anyone else, Robin had simply been there, cared when no one else would and Conner’s entire concept of love was based solely around Tim.

It started with insecure, friendly smiles in Mount Justice, with the uncomfortable realization that he had more in common with Batman’s genius protégé than he’d initially thought. There were gentle words assuring Superboy of his humanity, of his worth and affectionate touches to the hands or shoulder. Long explanations on history or culture or personal events, lovingly explained to the new clone without a trace of superiority. Anger and frustration at Bart, Cassie, Batman, himself most of all, sometimes that anger was directed at the clone but it never hurt the way Superman did.

It continues with stupid fights, arguing over petty power struggles and places on the team. Robin nursing wounded flesh and broken bones but still taking the time to ask after the near invulnerable boy’s health. Tears and fears of death or life, after death was certain and was suddenly revoked leaving the boys stranded in a life they thought lost. But heartache made them stronger and somehow, in the middle of the collapse and implosion of Young Justice, Conner realizes that he cannot imagine life without that idiot Robin around. As friend or rival or teammate, he was always there and Superboy takes the moment to truly appreciate him.

It grows as Superboy himself does, becoming Conner Kent in addition to the Superboy. He lives on a farm and goes to school when he has to but he never forgets Robin. The slow growing love was found in exchanged texts half a continent away after Conner finally got a phone, hiding the exchanges behind the backs of their respective parents and mentors. It flourished during sunny San Francisco days spent kicking bad guy butt, his best friend at his back and was tempered by more pointless arguing, done because neither refuse to address the real problems in their lives. There are more gentle touches, innocent, well-meaning brushes of skin and gloves and clothes to convey something deeper than either understood.

It even develops as Conner kisses Cassie for the first, second, fiftieth, one hundredth time. He loves Cassie, he truly, truly does. He loves her hair and her smile and her strength and her brightness. But she is his sun, the one he wants to be with when he’s happy; he can never bring himself to tell her his troubles or thoughts or go beyond the picturesque daydream of their relationship. He smiles with Cassie and unloads on Tim, telling the human all his fears and wishes which are validated with a small, understanding smile. Cassie yells at him, why doesn’t he talk to her? He tells her he loves her but now Cassie is crying and saying it isn’t love if he only gives her a small portion of his heart. He tells her she’s wrong and then goes to talk to Tim.

Conner gets his first flush of realization on a mission, an ordinary one. There’s explosions and cursing villains and everything is loud and deafening in his ears. And then Robin is in his face, his mask all scrunched up in concern and everything fades. The whole world narrows in on Tim’s concern, his pounding heartrate, fast and fragile like a bird’s, and the gloved hand resting on Conner’s chest. The moment end and the sounds return but it sticks out in Conner’s mind as something special in a way he can’t describe. He can’t talk to Cassie. They are having troubles in their on-again, off-again relationship and he hates what that conflict has done to them. He misses being her friend. Conner settles on Bart and, completely out of character, the speedster smiles in a knowing way and runs off without a word.

It grows and grows without any further revelation until he reaches his last breath. As his life flashes before him following his battle with Superboy Prime, he is surprised by how Tim pervades every moment of his life and memories. Even during the times when the other boy wasn’t around, his words or his explanations or his stupid sense of caring hang over Conner's bitterly short life. He finds himself wishing suddenly and painfully to see Tim right then, more than Ma or Clark or Cassie. He loves them all and always will but none of them have ever been there for him like Tim was. Tim who showed him how to skateboard and sewed up his t-shirts on away missions and pushed Conner into a lake one time and cried for hours on his shoulder when his dad died.  Robin entered his life uneventfully but, piece by piece, became Conner’s everything. Out of the corner of his hazy vision, he catches a glimpse of red, yellow and green. His last act is to reach for those achingly familiar colors that are always too far away.

Conner doesn’t remember coming back to life or breathing again after centuries of stillness and death. The first thing he properly remembers in the medical ward in the 31st century is an old, old memory of Tim sitting with Conner on the roof of Ma Kent’s barn. Tim is talking about his parents, the loneliness of his childhood, the guilt of being Robin behind their backs. He asked Conner if there was anything he’d go back and change, if he could. Conner had said something stupid, of course, but at the time he couldn’t think of one thing he’d like to fix. Now lying on a bed, a long ways away from his home, he cries silently and regrets never telling Tim that everything Conner was, wanted to be, was because of Tim. He’s given the opportunity to go back to his time and takes it without a second thought.

A thousand variations of their reunion fluttered through Conner’s head as he flew to Tim’s last reported sighting. He imagined Tim breaking face, being all gross and teary and blubbery as he breaks character and hugs him. He wonders if Tim will be angry for leaving everyone behind and refuse to speak to him. He briefly contemplates sweeping the bird off his feet and planting a big wet one on him, but decides that might be for later. He isn’t expecting what he finds: Tim slightly taller and definitely more muscular in a costume that reminds him of everything wrong about Batman. Even his heart sounds different, no longer the fluttery little birds heart, so strong and brave despite his fears but the steady, resolute beat of a man willing to do anything for his beliefs. He feels like a stranger and Tim’s weak attempts to pretend things are normal feel like such a betrayal to the friendship they once had, to the person Tim used to be.

As weeks and months pass, Conner learns the events that broke and reshaped his best friend into this cold, dark person. He feels anger like he’s never known  to think of how unfairly Tim was treated in his absence. Tim, who gave more than anyone should be expected and who would light himself on fire to keep his friends warm, was let down by those he trusted. Pushed and pushed to be better despite the hurt only to be kicked to curb when Batman’s kid showed up and demanded the Robin costume. He’ll never forget the feeling when he saw Tim shirtless for the first time afterwards. His eyes darted from one new scar to another, each one bad enough to have taken Tim away for good. His fingers had reached out to the large one across Tim’s abdomen from his emergency splenectomy. Instead he turns around and goes to vomit in the nearest restroom. He asks Clark about why he, or any of the League, didn’t do anything to help. Conner hears weak excuses about Tim being strong enough to handle it. He slams the door to Clark’s apartment so hard it breaks when he storms out.

Despite the guilt, Conner still feels a sense of loss and betrayal over Tim’s transformation. He’d survived death and future only to come back and find his rock and his lifeline has been twisted beyond recognition. It’s rude and unfair but he feels it anyway. But then there’s a moment, they’re going over a case and Conner makes the obligatory stupid comment and Tim reciprocates and his mouth does this dumb thing that’s almost a smile and everything is good. Once he starts looking, he finds all sorts of Old Tim buried inside this New Tim that comes out at odds moments. There are even new habits there that are so endearingly Tim that he finds himself liking them anyway. Once upon a time, Tim had wormed his way into his clone heart and now, despite everything, he does it all over again one broken piece at a time

New Tim doesn’t smile much anymore, not counting those fakey smiles he gives on TV. Old Tim was always a little sleep deprived but New Tim takes it to an unhealthy extreme. New Tim is both stronger and scarier than ever before but it seems Conner is the only one who notices that Tim is like glass, right on the edge of shattering completely. Conner wants to help this Tim, this unhappy mix of New and Old, but he doesn’t know how. So he goes back to the start. Delicate touches, stupid jokes and stupider arguments, long, detailed explanations on his feelings of the Wendy reboot and how his History teacher is a crank. There are friendly smiles, understanding eyes and an open ear to all the burdens this new boy has to bear; offered freely just as Tim had done for him years ago. There are too many nights spent listening to Tim rant and rave about the injustices done to him; holding back his too long hair as he gets sick recalling painful memories and too many nights all of Conner’s efforts seem hopeless.

But then the smiles begin to come back, slowly but surely, those small, little Robin smiles that makes Conner’s heart leap. Friendly touches get returned, hesitantly at first but soon Tim’s hands on his back or shoulder becomes familiar. Tim lays out his troubles and listens as Conner absorbs and repeats back that those things shouldn’t have happened and by God does Tim look so relieved and vulnerable in that moment. Conner pulls his boy close, bringing his big arms around Tim’s tiny body and squeezes him as hard as he dares. The air is electric and this is the time in any normal movie the hero would say I love you and sexy shenanigans would ensue. But Tim turns to look up at him with big, watery eyes and it’s written all over his face, no words needed. Conner brings his head down until their foreheads are nearly touching. Piece by piece they fell in love, little things adding up into big things becoming something bigger than they’ll ever be able to describe. So they decide to leave all words behind and just appreciate how much bigger and better the world is to have the other in it.

anonymous asked:

I watched the documentary about a couple hours ago and the part where Harry was talking about how much fun he had in Jamaica, and how much he felt carefree there as well made me so happy that he was happy. Also can we talk his smile cause dammmmmmmm can that boy be anymore amazing and beautiful at the same time?!?!?!?!?

It actually made me cry, how happy he was. And at the end, when he said “Today was a good day. Felt really good.” I couldn’t help but cry again. Because he actually - really, for the first time, to me - was allowing himself to be proud of what he’s done…he took the time to do it properly, and while he obviously loved his time with One Direction and does not regret a second of it, it’s so important that he (along with all of them, really) gets this time to explore who he is as Harry Styles, artist. Not Harry Styles, member of One Direction.

I’m getting emotional again just thinking about it. It’s nearly ridiculous, but if I’m going to invest my time and money in support of someone, I’m so happy it’s Harry. Obviously it’s my choice, but I could not be prouder of him. He deserves all the love he receives, simply because he gives it back, tenfold. Without expecting anything in return.

I’m so glad we got to see that side of him. I’m so glad he’s allowed us to come on this journey with him. But I’m not glad I’m crying all the damn time about it, because I really need to get a grip.

irl-deku  asked:

whispers tsukiyama 36 for the pairing post

~

36. “please don’t leave me behind”

~

There’s a couple of things that have been bothering Kei. 1) That his best friend is growing, a lot, and 2) that he was leaving Kei in the dust in the process.

He knows he shouldn’t be jealous of Tadashi’s progress. He should be proud – and he is, he’s very proud – but he can’t help it, not when Kei is so much worse at everything, and certainly not when Tadashi is so damn modest about it. Tadashi’s serves have improved so much, and he’s upped his game receiving, blocking, attacking. Tadashi even started practicing setting with Kageyama.

By their third year, Tadashi was a powerhouse all his own, the team’s captain and leader, and it hurts.

Kei doesn’t want to get left behind. He doesn’t want to lose Tadashi when he goes on to bigger and better things – he can’t lose him. Not like that. Fate seems to be against him, however, as he watches Tadashi read the letter he’s gotten from yet another scout with furrowed brows.

“I can’t believe I’ve got another scout after me. The year isn’t even half over!” Tadashi groans, folding the paper neatly and showing it across the table. “Just let me have a few more months of normal!”

Kei smiles at that. As much as Tadashi has grown, he’s still Tadashi. Hates attention. 

“It’s good you’re being contacted, though.” Kei says, though his heart aches as he does. “It means you’ll have a lot of choices to pick from when we do graduate.” 

…And suddenly, he’s crying. One second, he’s putting on a strong face, the next he’s full-on sobbing, curling into himself around the coffee table they’d been drinking tea at. 

“Tsukki? A- Are you ok?!” There’s the sound of shuffling, and then Tadashi’s next to Kei, a hand hesitantly placed at his back. “I- Is this because I’m being contacted by scouts? Because you are too! And don’t say you’re not, you’re a great player! I- I’m the captain, is all, and they assume that just because I am that I’m good. I’m really not! Tsukki, please don’t cry!”

Kei laughs through his tears at how absolutely Tadashi Tadashi is, and launches himself at Tadashi, pushing him to the floor, still sobbing. “You’re an idiot.” 

“Wh- What–”

“Just don’t leave me behind, stupid.” Kei whispers, pressing his face into Tadashi’s chest. He feels more than he hears the sharp intake of breath Tadashi takes, and before he knows it, he’s being pulled into a tight, tight hug. 

“Tsukki, you’re the idiot. I’d never leave you.” Tadashi says, and there’s tears in his voice too, which makes Kei cry even more. God, they’re pathetic. “I’m never letting you go.” 

“Promise?”

“Promise.” 

…At least they’ll be pathetic together. 

EXO as Dads

No GIFS belong to me!

hope you enjoy!



Suho
He would be the type to spoil the baby rotten. He would buy any toy that his precious child even looked at. And when the tantrum comes along, He’ll just spoil them even more to stop the huge commotion in the middle of public. 

“Suho…You can’t give C/n everything they want..”

“But…Y/n… He/She is too cute…”

He is the Spoil-My-Baby-Rotten Dad

Originally posted by wintershower


Kai:
Kai would be a shy dad. When he held the baby and it started to cry he would immediately hand him/her back to you. Not wanting to make his precious fluff ball cry. Even though tell him “Its not that he/she doesn’t like you. They’re not used to you since you never hold them.” He would sulk and say “I don’t hold them because they don’t like me”. But when you leave him with her/him for a day he tries his hardest to get comfortable with C/n and he does even if they are still a bit awkward.

Kai is the Shy-Yet-Sweet Dad

Originally posted by 12fools

Baekhyun :
Baekhyun is the type of dad that was practically like a second mother. He would smile and tease the baby ever second he got. He would be the one to get up and check on the baby when he/she is crying in the middle of the night. He would be the one to sit and watch the kiddie TV show with them and not feel awkward at all. 

“OH MY GOD! Y/N COME QUICK!”

“Yes, What is it Baekhyun?”

“C/N said their first word! It was APPA!” “Don’t be jealous he/she likes me better”

He is the Sweet-Caring Dad

Originally posted by batarya-az



Chanyeol:
Chan would be a bit awkward like Kai at first. When the baby started to cry he would hand him/her back to you. But after a while of getting used to having a baby around he started to get used to him/her and he would play with them everyday. The awkward days would no longer be existent. He would  bring snacks and sometimes toys home as a surprise for C/n.

“Chanyeol…You can’t bring something home every time you get off work..” 

“I promise I won’t next time… But look how happy he/she looks!”

He is the Awkward-Yet-Best-Dad

Originally posted by porkdo-bi


Lay:
Lay would be a great dad, maybe a bit clueless on somethings like is the formula suppose to be with warm water or cold. He was the Dad that went to classes to make sure he didn’t do anything wrong and he tried really hard to make sure that his child was safe and happy growing up.

“C/n…Mommy is sleeping… we have to be quiet”

“…”

“Lets watch some Poporo!”

Lay is the Hardworking-Dad

Originally posted by wealthyteethchanyeol


Chen:
Chen would be a good Dad. He wouldn’t be to awkward with the child because he would smile and tease him/her from the very beginning, but when his baby starts walking and getting into stuff he finds himself frustrated having to child proof locks on everything which even he himself has trouble opening.

“ugh why are these things so hard to open?!!?”

“Chen they are too keep C/n out of things”

“…I know…but they are so hard to open”

He is just the Natural-Good Dad

Originally posted by everybodyloveschen

D.O:
D.O would be a quiet Dad. He wouldn’t complain to his friends about the baby crying. When he held the baby while it was sleeping he wouldn’t fall asleep he would just quietly watch him/her sleep. He never yells just gets angry and lectures his two year old on about how he/she shouldn’t be getting into his kitchen tools. 

“C/n you cant come into the kitchen when Daddy is cooking you can get hurt and you don’t want that do you?”

“…”

“Good. Now go clean your toys up.”

He would be the Quiet-Yet-Strict Dad

Originally posted by kyvngsoo


Sehun:
Sehun… He would treat the baby like a precious angel from above when he/she is first born. Giving the cuddles, kisses, even changing the diapers. But when his little precious angel starts turning in a devious toddler he starts going back into his old sass ways. He would always wonder if personality traits were passed down due to the things his child says.

“C/n pick up your toys.”

“I don’t have to do things I don’t want to”

“Uh… I didn’t ask if you wanted to.”

He would be the Sass-Dad

Originally posted by damnitsehun

Xiumin:
Xiumin would…probably be the best dad. He would share responsibilities with you evenly with you when the baby was first born. Maybe even a little bit more than you so you could have a break. But he always play with his baby and feed her/him when they were hungry. But when the baby got to he a toddler he never would really experience the bad toddler behavior .

 “Hey, C/n would you like to be a big brother/sister?”

“…”

“Perfect! Do you want a baby brother or sister? We can probably have both!” 

He would be the Loving-Dad

Originally posted by cosmicdrive

Luhan:
Luhan would be a little scared when the baby first came cause it would the moment he realized he really was unprepared. He would always be asking you questions if he was doing things right. He would even wake you up in you little nap times to ask you for the billionth time if the baby’s feeding time was usually at 1 or 2.

“was C/n suppose to have formula or those nasty cookies…?” *calls you*

 He would be the Unprepared-Dad

Originally posted by incrediyeol


Tao

Tao would so excited when the baby was born. HE would love to show off his adorable child to everyone. He wouldn’t be so keen on taking on responsibilities though, He would try to slither out of changing diapers any chance he got.

“Tao, could you change C/n real quick? I have to go check on the food real quick!”

“You can change him when youre done cant you?”

“Tao just do it!”

“Okay jeez”

he is The-Show-Off Dad

Originally posted by jonnasexoticworld


Kris

Kris would be a bit worried when the kid came along. He would be a bit uneasy when you asked if he wanted to hold C/n. He would do it none the less but he would always be scared of dropping C/n. 

“Kris, take C/n for a while. I gotta go get my mom from the airport.”

“uh… okay…but what if C/-”

“Don’t worry, If you have any questions I have his usual schedule on the fridge. Call me if you need something”

“Alright I got this”

He would be the Clumsy-Yet-ConfidentDad

Originally posted by oppa-smiles

Why   /part 13/

Part 1, 2, 3, 4, 5 , 6, 7 , 8 , 9, 10 , 11, 12

I never really believed in any of that psychology stuff. But as Luke explained to me the five stages of grief, I couldn’t help but think that maybe they were right. How long have I been in denial? How long have I told myself lies? Maybe Soryu really doesn’t love me. Maybe he really did try to hit me. Maybe he wants to go spend his life with Koibito and kick me to the curb.

“Hey…don’t cry.” Baba said. I only sniffed in response. ‘How many times have I cried today?’ Baba tried to put his arm around me and I moved away.

“Guys…I’m sorry…” I muttered.

“For what? Being a human and showing emotions?” Ota asked.

“No.” I sniffed. “For getting you guys involved. You don’t deserve this.” The bidders exchanged looks before smiling softly at me, a rare sight for most.

“Hey, I always look for a reason to kick that mobster’s ass.” Mamoru jokingly said.

“Yeah, and we all care and love you! Right?” Baba asked. The bidders more or less muttered and mumbled in agreement and I couldn’t help but smile.

I love these guys.

“Oh, hey Eisuke. When did you get here?”

I froze for a second. I completely forgot that I had left him behind. An odd sensation flowed through my body and I assumed it was guilt. Hastily wiping away my tears, I turned to face him.

“Um…hey Eisuke…” I smiled sheepishly at him. He took one look at my face and frowned.

“Have you been crying again?” He looked at the others. “What did you do to her?”

“Hey, don’t blame us, blame Soryu!” Ota said.

Luke turned to glance at me. “Does he know about your current situation?” he asked and I nodded.

“Yeah…thanks to Baba…” I said and glared at him.

“I thought that it’d be best if boss knew.” Baba said.

“But it was supposed to stay a secret!”

“Yeah? How’d that work out for you?” Ota asked with a smile plastered on his face. I stood there and pouted at him.  

“It could’ve worked out a little better…”

“So where is Soryu, exactly?” Eisuke said, nonchalantly sliding up to be by my side.

“We don’t know.” Mamoru admitted. “All we know is he tried to go after the kid.”

“He what?” Eisuke asked before looking at me. He turned to the bidders and squinted his eyes. “Why?”

“Beats me.” Ota said, shrugging. “He’s been acting really weird lately…”

“You’ve noticed that too?” I asked, surprised.

“We’ve all noticed it. Noticed how he’s even more quiet than usual, how he’s been working more, how he’s just been dull and boring and depressed and-“

“Alright Baba, we get it…” I said cutting him off. Hm, so I’m not the only one who noticed how off he’s been lately…

“I suppose you could say we all knew something was wrong…” Luke started.

“…but none of us knew what it was.” Mamoru finished.

“Until I saw Koibito, that is.”

“Until you told Otakins and I!”

“Until Baba told me.”

“Until literally a couple minutes ago.”

I looked at all of them and nodded, taking in the information. The secret was out, they all know and are all here. What are they going to do now?

“When you were running, did you notice anyone going after you?” Eisuke asked me.

“No.” I said, shaking my head. “I was scared that he was following me, so I kept running and didn’t look back.”

“Well, Soryu is faster than you. Even if you did have a head start he would have eventually caught you.” Ota pointed out.

“So he ran for a different reason?” Eisuke asked.

“I…I guess so?” I said, confused. Why else would he have ran out like that? I just couldn’t think of an answer.

“Baba, you said ya caught her runnin’ round the street, right?” Mamoru asked, looking deep in thought.

“Yeah, I saw her when she almost got hit by that red car.”

“You almost got hit by a car?” Eisuke asked me. “How?”

“Shhh…that was then, this is now…” I said, waving my hand and hoping to avoid a lecture about being careless and whatnot.  “Why would him seeing me run away matter?” I questioned.

“Well, Soryu usually ain’t no punk…but if he saw Baba goin’ after ya he might’ve stopped chasing you.”

“Why? Sor isn’t afraid of me?” Baba said and we nodded in agreement.

“He isn’t…but maybe he is, or was, afraid of us finding out.” Mamoru said.

I was about to say, ‘But Soryu isn’t afraid of anything!’ but I stopped myself. It made sense…

“It makes sense…” I said aloud.

“It does?” Luke asked.

“Yeah, I mean, after what Eisuke did to him after he found out, Soryu was probably reluctant to still go after me if he had to deal with me and Baba at the same time. He didn’t know Baba already knew about the cheating part and didn’t know if I’d tell him about the…uh…other part.” I said. That…or he really hates Baba…

“Whoa, whoa, wait…back up…” Ota said, waving his arms in the air. He turned to Eisuke and pointed at him, “…what did you do to Soryu?” The rest of the guys turned to Eisuke too, as curious as Ota to as what he could have done.  I cursed at myself as I made another slip up.

“Er, that’s not important.” I said. Eisuke shook his head at me.

“Whatever, we need to find Soryu.” Eisuke said. Everyone nodded in agreement while I nervously looked from bidder to bidder.

“Guys…don’t hurt him…please?” I meekly said.  “Can’t we just…talk to him?”

“What are we, women?” Ota scoffed.

“No…but, you’re…all amazing men…with big hearts…who care about me and my feelings…and…are really good friends with Soryu and would never cause him harm…” I said, then gave them my best puppy eyes and stuck my bottom lip out a little bit. The bidders awkwardly looked away and shuffled slightly. I was, no doubt, the spoiled little/big sister of the group. Finally, Eisuke spoke up.

“Well…if our girl doesn’t want us to hurt him…then we won’t.”


Woop, I’m back. Missed me? No? Alriight…
Sorry it sucks, Merry Christmas Eve Eve
 @donnaintx, @teacupdreams, @hifftn, @dayspringsylph, @random-writen-words love you guys and thanks for waiting. 

Rolling Stone (A Short Story)

He stares lovingly at the baggies before him. He then smiles gratefully at the dealer and sends him his way. He sucks in his bottom lip, guilt settling down at the pit of his stomach; he had promised Bella that he would ease up on the coke. 

He lied. 

Inhaling deeply, he spills the white content onto the clean glass table. Grabbing his credit card from his wallet, he begins making lines, the pleasurable feeling brings him a familiar rush. Just the sight of it is making him feel like a child on Christmas morning. He hums to a tone that has been stuck in his head for a while now as he peacefully makes his lines. Then he suddenly pauses, a faint memory of an old friend haunting him. 

“Come here,” He ordered her. A scowl already forming on his face. She teases too much. Biting her lower lip, she shakes her head no. Fucking hell. “Why not?” 

“Because I don’t want to.” He groans loudly. It’s like she walks this earth just to taunt him. “I want you to come and get me.” She says, crossing her arms and covering her breasts. Shaking his head at her childish tactics, he rolls off the bed and reaches out to grab her, and when he does, he gently throws her back on the bed. As she naturally wraps her legs around his waist, he dips down to her ears and whispers, “gotcha.” 

“You know Tess, I’m starting to think you’re falling in love with me.” She speaks as she plays with his baby dreads. 

“Don’t flatter yourself, baby girl.” He lays down besides her on the small twin bed that he stole from his mother’s house. I hope she’s okay, he says to himself, thinking about his mom. “I’m just waiting for my big break. I’m going to make it.” He says with confidence. At this point, he has a promising future, he only needs to get signed. 

“Will you still remember me?” She questions in a small voice, as if she fears the answer. 

“Of course, I could never forget you. You loved me before they all loved me.” 

He swallows the lump in his throat at the flashback. After a week of having that conversation with her, he got signed to Republic Records. In pure agony, he flips over the glass table that shatters into pieces on the marble floor, letting two thousands worth of cocaine go to waste. 

“Leave me alone!” He screams at no one in particular, though he’s speaking to her. He does that sometimes when he’s alone, feeling her powerful presence even though she isn’t there. “Please, Valerie! Let me live in peace.” 

Luckily for him, no one is around to witness his melt down. 

He slides down to the floor once he’s against the wall, letting his head fall in between his knees. He couldn’t stop the rouge tears that escape. Abel doesn’t know how it happened or what happened. He got a call from Valerie’s mother saying she passed away and that was it. He knew she had been sick, but he didn’t think of it as anything more than a cold, that’s what she told him. She would tell him it was a cold and nothing to worry about. Her mother said it’s like the further away he got from Toronto, the sicker she got. 

She passed away when he was in Japan. 

He was angry with her for the longest time, he hated her for not telling him what’s going on. But as he grew older, wiser, he understood she kept it a secret out of love. She knew he was having the time of his life and didn’t want to ruin that.

She had to set him free. 

He just wishes that he had gotten a chance to say goodbye. After two years of being together, she got used to his face and his mystery was beginning to fade, so the last conversation they had wasn’t much of a conversation.

Abel roughly wipes away the tears, mentally scolding himself for breaking down like this. Grabbing his jacket, he leaves his penthouse. After what felt like wandering around for hours, he found himself in Parkdale, standing in front of a familiar house with 65 engraved on it. He smiles to himself. Valerie would have never let this place go, she would have forced him to buy it. He makes a mental note to see if it’s up for sale once he gets home. 

He so badly wanted to break in, but he knew better. 

“You’re so mean to me, Tess.” She says, he can picture her cute little pout. 

“Yeah, but you still love me.” He grins, but his wide smile falters, “when will you stop loving me?” He asks, already dreading the answer. Abel knows it’s bound to happen, he knows this long distance bullshit won’t work. It never does. Eventually, Valerie would have fallen out of love with him. 

“When you don’t need me anymore. I loved you before they all loved you, so when I stop loving you, it’s because they all love you.” She explains. He tried to comprehend what she’s saying but it’s all jumbled up and makes no sense. “But until then, you got me.” 

He never understood what she went on about. He still doesn’t. He smiles at the memory of her confusing and stupid riddles. I should go see her, he says to himself. He doesn’t have to walk far to find her and when he does, he kneels down and gives her a kiss, then lays on his arm, as if facing her. He places his hand on where he images her tummy would be. She loved getting her tummy rubbed, he found it strange, but he didn’t mind doing it for her. 

“I miss you, Val.” He says. “I miss you so much.” His voice cracks. “You didn’t have to leave me. You said you would leave when I didn’t need you anymore. I still need you. Why did you leave me, baby girl?” He’s very much aware he’s speaking to a gravestone, but he hopes that she’s listening, wherever she is. “I wrote you a song. It’s about you. It’s called Valerie. It’s about how much I love you and need you. And how sorry I am for taking you for granted.” 

“Do you want me to sing it for you?” 

And he does. He sings it for her. At first his voice is loud and clear, but his voice starts cracking by the end of the first verse, and by the end of the song, his voice is barely audible. And after a moment, all that could be heard are his heart-breaking sobs throughout the cemetery. 

He never got to grieve over her death. He was filled with so much anger towards her that he didn’t cry it out. He thought she would come knocking on his door one day and tell him that this is one of her shenanigans. That she’s alive and healthy. He waited for her, he knew she had access to his home so he would get frustrated when she didn’t come. 

She never came. 

Abel was in denial about her death for a long time and now that he’s faced it and accepted it, he only hopes she found peace. 

Abel wakes up with a sense of content, not happiness, but content. He looks over his shoulders to see Bella, and he weakly smiles at her. She must have sneaked in when he was asleep. He pulls the sheets over her and tucks her in, placing a sloppy kiss on her forehead. He lazily rolls off the bed, grabbing his phone. He looks at the date and smiles sadly. 

August 18. 

It’s been four years since he last saw her. 

A knock stops his train of thought and he makes his way to the living room. 

“Morning sunshine.” Lamar grins at Abel, gently patting his face. “I missed you baby.” 

“What the fuck do you want?” He pushes smacks Lamar’s arm, turning away from him and settling on his comfy sofa. 

“I told you, I missed you.” Lamar leaves the main door open, as if he’s not planning on staying. “Oh, I see. Your little girlfriend is here so you want to be rude to your lover. That’s fine, honestly.” Abel gives Lamar an unimpressed look. “Fine,” he drags the end of the word out, “I came to give you this.” He pulls out a mail letter from his jacket and hands it to Abel. “I didn’t open it or anything. Val’s mom gave it to me at her funeral. I was gonna give to you then but I didn’t know if you could handle it.” Lamar is the only one who didn’t tip toe around the subject of Valerie, he was a straight forward person and didn’t approve of the way Abel dealt with her death. “Read it, okay man. It’ll give you closure.” He says to him patting him on the back and leaves, closing the door behind him. 

Abel wanted to punch Lamar for keeping this from him for so long, but he was right, Abel wouldn’t have been able to handle it. He stares at the letter in fear of what it might say. She wrote this four years ago. He could feel unshed tears burning his eyes. Not waiting a second longer, he tears the mail open. He’s more than disappointed to see there’s only one sentence written on the letter and he wonders if this is some cruel joke by Lamar. He then reminds himself that Lamar wouldn’t do this to him and he immediately reads what it says. And when he does, hot tears fall down from his eyes and he smiles a heart-wrenching smile. 

I’m still listening, the letter read. 

When The Angel Woos The Clay

Written because, like everyone else, I’m totally bummed about the loss of Mary. BUT though I think John behaved like an arsehole, I think his behaviour was very human. Guilt and projection are terrible motivators. I also think- because I’m a born pessimist- that things will get worse before they get better, and that the worseness will look something like this…

Title comes from the Patrick Kavanagh poem, “On Raglan Road.”

WHEN THE ANGEL WOOS THE CLAY

It starts small.

A brush against her hand here. A touch to the small of her back there. When she looks at John he’s never looking at her, and at first Molly puts it down to mere oversight. A desire, however unconscious, for human contact, a reaching out for someone who will never reach back now. He’s lost his wife, she reminds herself, he’s abandoned his best friend- John’s having a hard time of it and he has a child to raise.

So Molly, being Molly, says nothing.

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Can’t Breathe

In theory, Harry and Niall shouldn’t mesh very well.

Niall is much too gentle and kind, too emotional and vocal for a callus, tough and introverted person like Harry. Niall was the blonde haired, blue eyed boy next door type that your mother loves whilst Harry was the teenage rebel type that your father would never let within ten feet of you. In theory, Harry and Niall wouldn’t work.

In reality, Harry and Niall really, really work.

Of course, sometimes when Harry is grumpy or Niall is tired, they fight a little bit more intensely than most couples, but they always figured it out. 

Niall was a uni student, plain and simple. He was studying creative writing in hopes that he might actually get a chance at his dream job, and Harry supported him, despite his unspoken doubts. Harry on the other hand had decided to forgo the uni process seeing as he already had his dream job owning his own bakery. 

“Haz? You home?” Niall calls as he drops his book bag to the side table near the door of Harry’s flat. Because Niall lived in a flat with 2 of his mates, Harry’s apartment had basically become Niall’s home as well (more than half of Niall’s things were at Harry’s, anyway).

“Yeah babe, in the kitchen.” Harry calls back and Niall grins in content as he sees his boyfriend pulling what smells like brownies out of the oven. 

“Hey.” Niall says, sighing dreamily like he always does. Harry puts the tray down and shucks off his oven mitts, giving Niall one of his rare grins and walking over to his blonde boyfriend. 

“Hey there.” He responds, kissing Niall’s nose and hugging him tightly to his chest. 

Niall hums in pure joy, “Missed you.” He mumbles and Harry nods in agreement. “What’re you baking?”

“Chocolate cake.” Harry says and Niall nearly moans at the sound.

“I love you.” Niall says and Harry laughs out loud, making Niall grin in self-approval.

“Not for you, fattie.” Harry jabs playfully making Niall gasp in mock offense. 

Niall lets go of Harry momentarily, feigning shock. “Harry Styles!” Niall shouts, 
“You always say I look skinny in these jeans.” He says, pouting dramatically. 

Harry grins, rolling his eyes. “You’re nearly too skinny, babe. Look at your little legs, there isn’t any fat on your body… except for your fat arse.” Harry says, making Niall squeal.

“Oh my god!” Niall says loudly, using both of his hands to cover his butt. “You pervert.” 

“You love it.” Harry says casually, testing the cakes warmth subconsciously with a butter knife. 

Niall stares at his boyfriend lovingly. “I love you, yeah.” he says in all seriousness. 

Harry takes a minute to spare a glance at his suddenly serious boyfriend and tries to conceal a heavy sigh. He knows that Niall is rightfully looking for some kind of approval from Harry- any kind of hint that Harry is feeling the same- but Harry just can’t. He hates himself for it, but he can’t make his mouth move to make words to formulate just how he feels about Niall. He isn’t a writer like Niall, he doesn’t have the articulate and impressive words about him like his boyfriend. He hasn’t read the classic romantic novels like Niall and he doesn’t watch romantic comedies unless he’s with Niall and he just feels so inferior compared to his boyfriend. Niall, of course, doesn’t know that and wouldn’t understand it, so Harry doesn’t even try to explain. 

Harry ends up nodding awkwardly and turning back to his baking, trying to ignore the fact that he can nearly hear Niall’s heart breaking. He faintly hears Niall’s footsteps leaving the room, and once he hears the bedroom door click shut he relaxes against the kitchen cabinet, mentally punching himself in the face. 

Niall comes out of the bedroom about an hour later, looking tired and upset and Harry knows its going to be one of those nights. Harry’s already started on dinner, Niall’s favorite dish of mac and cheese– fancy style. Niall takes one look at the food and puts on what must be his brave face, looking Harry in the eyes. “Harry, I have to go home now.” He says, his voice quivering as he spoke Harry’s full name. 

“What?” Harry asks, dumbfounded. He knew Niall laws upset, but Niall was never too upset to skip his favorite dinner. “Ni…” He started.

“No, Haz, I know. I’m sorry you made my favorite, that’s really so sweet.” The blonde says and Harry almost believes him. “But, Zayn and Liam need my help… cooking tonight. So I have to go.” Niall says, making Harry scoff.

Niall couldn’t cook for shit, that’s why Harry was always the chef of their relationship. Zayn and Liam would never call Niall for cooking help, unless they were asking for Harry. Niall was a terrible liar and Harry could see right through him, Harry just couldn’t understand why Niall was lying. Never before had Niall been this… “not-upset” at Harry not being able to say his feelings. Usually the night would start with eating dinner, then a blow-up fight directly afters, 20 minutes of the silent treatment from Niall’s end, and then end with an entire night of passionate and intense make-up sex. 

“Okay.” Harry says quietly, ignoring the pang in his chest as Niall just stands with a tight look on his face. The blonde stands there for a second, as if he’s waiting for something, and then he shakes his head rapidly and ends whatever trance he was in. Niall gives Harry an unconvincing, small smile and walks out of the kitchen with one hand wrapped tightly around his wrist, something that Niall only does when he’s about to cry. He has little nail marks indented in his skin from where he scratches himself whilst trying not to cry. Harry’s heart feels like it’s just been stamped on. 

The front door shuts quietly, and Harry huffs, confusion thick in the air. ‘what the hell just happened?’ he thinks to himself as the oven’s timer beeps, admitting that the mac and cheese was done. 

* * * *

He calls Liam later that night. He and Liam were pretty close before Harry even met Niall. Liam and Harry’s best friend, Louis were fuck buddies all throughout Louis’ college career. Harry’s not really sure where their relationship lies, but he isn’t calling to talk about LiLo. “Hey, Liam.” Harry says quietly. 

Liam’s delayed response tells Harry something straight away. “What do you want, man?” Liam says, in that voice that is definitely angry but truing to stay civil. 

“What the hell is happening, Liam? Niall completely walked out on me today saying you and Zayn needed him to cook?” Harry mumbles. “I know I probably did something wrong, I just need someone ego tell me what. I’ll apologize to him a million times, please.” Harry begs and he hates how desperate he sounds but it’s all so necessary. 

Liam heaves out a long and heavy sigh. “Look he came home crying and he still is somewhere around here cuddled up with Zayn. He hasn’t told me anything straight up but I’m sure it’s because you can’t man up and tell him how you feel.” Liam says bluntly, completely out of character of his usual self, but it made sense seeing as everyone associated with Niall is usually fiercely protective of him. Anyway, if Liam seemed protective over Niall, you don’t want to even begin thinking about Zayn’s fierce and ugly over-protectiveness over his best friend. 

Harry closes his eyes. “I know. I know. It’s just… I know how I feel I just can’t tell him. I try so hard-”

“You need to try harder.” Liam says. “Look, dude, I love you and Niall and I want you guys to both be happy, but maybe you two can’t make each other happy.” 

“He makes me so happy, Liam, you don’t understand…”

Liam sighs one last time. “Harry, I understand all too well. I know he makes you happy. But you don’t make him happy.” Liam says and that feels like a punch to the gut. 

Harry’s breath is taken away from him for a second, and he can’t even begin to understand how that statement alone made him feel. 

He doesn’t respond to Liam, and his brown eyed friend seems to understand. “I’m sorry, Harry, but that’s the truth. I have to go now. You should call Louis, he’ll be able to help you through this.”

Harry hangs up because what is this? He and Niall haven’t broken up. Yet

He shakes his head, clearing his own thoughts because they won’t break up. They. Will. Not. Harry’s palms are sweaty and his breathing is becoming uneven just at the thought of loosing Niall. 

He dials Louis’ number quickly, and spends the rest of the night crying to his best friend because he’s too much of a fuck up to tell his true feelings.

* * * *

Harry doesn’t go to work the next day because he’s too busy preparing. He had gotten a text from Niall that morning saying that he would be coming over around 5 without any other explanation. Harry’s beyond nervous when Niall’s voice rings throughout his flat half past 4. He’s thirty minutes early and Harry was not prepared. “Haz?” he calls softly.

Harry near jumps out of his skin before slowly making his way to the living room. “Ni.” He greets, shuffling closer to the blonde, who flinches away. 

“We have to talk.” Niall says and Harry’s heart drops to his shoes. Those were four words he never wanted to hear from Niall.

Harry doesn’t say a word so Niall continues on his own. “I… I’ve been thinking about this for a while now. I just… I love you so much Harry.” he admits and the first tears start falling. “And I know– well, I think that you love me too.” Niall infers, but Harry can’t move. Niall sighs. “But you don’t ever give me one indication that any of this means anything to you and I can’t do it anymore.” He stutters, just like Harry’s heart. 

Finally, Harry can think again, speak again, move again. Instantly he’s shaking his head, denying it all, not allowing any of it. “Yes we can, we can figure it out, Niall, we always do.”

“No, Harry, we don’t. We fight and then I get blinded by my love and I’m stuck in the same one sided relationship all over again! Harry!” Niall says, his voice slowly raising. “How would you feel if I just never said any words of love to you anymore. I never said ‘I love you’ or even a simple ‘I missed you’? How would you like it?” Niall says angrily, wiping tears from his face. “I can’t do it anymore. I have given and given and you have it all I have no more to give because I’m receiving nothing from you!” Niall says, his voice going soft again. “So, I- I have to leave.” Niall says and Harry can tell that the blonde literally thinks that there’s no other option opposed to leaving. 

“Niall, please.” Harry gasps out, feeling the panic rising in his throat at the prospect of Niall leaving him. “You can’t leave me.” He begs, tears coming to his eyes. 

The Irish boy doesn’t look back as he gets up, walking towards the door. 

“Niall!” Harry says desperately, getting onto his knees and facing Niall in an apologetic position. “Please, Niall, please.” He begs in a whisper. Niall stops at the doorway. Harry stares at the back of the man he loves in absolute agony. Hopeless and heartbroken, Harry rasps, “Niall ,please, I can’t breathe without you.” 

The blonde turns on a hell, tears continuously streaming down his face. 

“That’s the o-only way I can describe it Niall. It’s like I’m a fish out of water without you, I can’t breathe I wouldn’t want to– without you. Without you I’d be nothing. I’m sorry that I’m not as articulate as you when it comes to words but I will always try my best to show you how much you mean to me from now on till forever. Please, Niall, you mean the world to me. Please, give me another chance to prove that I’m it for you like you’re it for me.” Harry begs, and Niall falls to the ground with Harry, hugging him tightly as he cries along with the brunette.

“I can’t breathe without you either.” Niall promises in heaved breaths after they’ve both stopped sobbing all over each other. Both of their faces are red and splotchy and wet and Harry can’t stop blubbering analogies that finally describe how he feels about his boyfriend but it’s all so perfect. 

Niall is sniffling in Harry’s neck as he clarifies, “If you break your promise Zayn is gonna kick your ass, Harry Styles.” 

Harry grins, hugging his boyfriend more tightly. “You don’t have to worry about that.” He tells the blue eyed boy as he pulls away slightly. “You’re it.” Harry says and Niall grins. It’s not exactly what he wanted, but he understands what Harry means.

“You’re it too.” 

aw :) narry is just too fun :) Thanks so much for reading! (sorry for typos)

School is killing me as in I’m literally dying haahhahahahahahahah :( Tumblr is my only escape and I only get to update like once a week so it’s G R E A T

Prompts are open! I do any Niall centric including OTP, OT3, OT4, & OT5. You can see my previous writings here and my master post here

Some Kirishima family headcanons :

- Arata would often use a clip to pin Hikari’s hair back when she was pregnant with Touka because he liked being able to see the sparkle in her eyes whenever she rubbed her tummy and talked about their soon to be born child.

- The day Touka is born, Hikari is the one who jokingly pins back his hair so that she can see the happy tears in his eyes when their daughter lets out a sharp cry and waves her tiny fist at him. “She’ll be spunky just like me”, she quips squeezing his hand, but Arata simply smiles, responding that he “wouldn’t have it any other way”.

- Arata does the same routine throughout Hikari’s second pregnancy only this time, when Ayato is born, they both pin back the little tuft of hair covering Touka’s eyes so that they can revel in her wide-eyed gaze when she sees her baby brother for the first time.

- When Ayato begins learning to walk, it is Touka who holds onto his pudgy little hands and helps guide him towards their parents. She’s also the one who, once he masters the skill of walking, takes him by the hand and teaches him how to run, each day prompting him to run faster and faster until their legs hurt and their parents have to carry them home. While it was not Touka’s intention (she was just having fun running around and playing with her family), the skills developed from that time unexpectedly come in handy when evading the ghoul investigators in the future.

courage, dear heart

I’m Eleven x Mike trash, okay (also on ao3)

The first time Mike is back home from college, it’s Thanksgiving and he feels like his skin is two sizes too small for his body. Dustin and he decides to drive together, all the way from MIT, and they’re good at spending the entire ride speaking about everything but the fact that Lucas won’t be here because he enrolled into the army straight out of high school, or that Will couldn’t afford the journey from Parsons. (Mike is the only one who knows Will doesn’t want to go home because he now has a boyfriend, and doesn’t want to tell his mother.) (As if Mrs Byers would reject him for that.) They’re also good at not talking about the fact that it’s been six years and a few days. They’re really good at not talking about that.

Thanksgiving dinner is as eventful at they go – Mike’s mother pretends to understand when he explains what he is studying, and his father doesn’t bother pretending he even listens. Mike shares exasperated smiles with Nancy, who rolls her eyes at appropriated times, just as done with their family as he is. There is fondness in the curve of her lips, though, something Mike relates to – even on different sides of the country now, they still call each other once a week, at least. Sometimes, Mike believes she’s the only one who understands – she’s the only one who lost someone to the Upside Down, too.

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- You being very sensitive and empathetic, and just a loving human being over all. 

- Him not letting you touch his metal arm at first.

- “You know I don’t think any less of you because of it right?”

- It’s the only time you’ve seen Bucky just start inconsolably crying.

- Because he thinks so much of you, and in comparison he really just can’t measure up to you. He doesn’t even think he could have been right for you before the war.

- You just hold him, both arms around his waist as his head drops to your shoulder.

- “I like you, not just when you’re happy, but when you’re sad too. I want to share my life with you, so please don’t keep me away anymore.”

- From that day on, he let’s you touch his metal arm.

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Space

They didn’t open the paper today.  There was no reason to hunt anything but memories; they knew that when Charlie showed up on their doorstep in tears with a duffle full of films.  No, today, they piled into Dean’s bed and marathoned movies, because what else was there to do?

Charlie unashamedly bawls through the second film, because she knows what’s coming.  Dean tears up when Kirk does.  Sam doesn’t say a word, instead pulling them both to sit alongside him, and leans their heads against his shoulder.  They all just hold each other and feel.

They cry together, for each other, for friends and fandom and family.

Cas shows up at the beginning of the fourth movie.  He blinks and tilts his head.  When he asks, “Is this the one with the whales?” they laugh for the first time in hours.

“Yeah, Cas,” Dean says, smiling and misty-eyed, “this is the one with the whales.”

Four hunters curl up in bed together, faces less saddened, hearts a little lighter.

“He lived long,” Cas says during the sixth.  "He prospered.“

Sam nods, but adds, "It doesn’t really make it sting any less.”

Charlie blows her nose for the umpteenth time, tissues thrown haphazardly over the side of the bed.  "Cas?“ she asks as the credits roll.

"Yes?”

“What do you think his heaven looks like?”

Cas sits and stares for a minute, lost in thought, searching for the right words.

“Space,” he answers at last, the newest film rolling already and the question left behind.  "Space and stardust.“

"So you mean the final frontier?”  Dean’s eyebrow quirks in amusement.

Cas frowns.  "There is no finality to the universe.“

Spock Prime graces the screen.

No one disagrees.

I want to know...

I want to know what it’s like to talk to Calum; to just hear him ramble about anything and everything, to where he gets all shy and says “it’s not interesting I’ll shut up.” But I’d make him talk more. To hear what his favorite album, band, movie, song, even place to visit. I want to hear it all.

I want to know what it’s like to make him laugh, to make him feel some sort of happiness for those few seconds because no ones smile/giggle will ever be as beautiful as his in my eyes.

I want to know what it’s like to fight with him; where his neck veins are prominent. His eyes dark, jaw clenched, where he wants to yell but neither of us can process words to say and when we release we both just want to cry. To hear door slam and tension build, but to later be resolved with simple apologies and soft words

I want to know how it feels to be in his arms; is it warm and comforting? Does he make you feel safe? Is he as soft yet strong like he looks like.

I want to know what it’s like to hold his hand; to feel my small hand interlock with his much larger one. To run my thumb against the palm of his hand, to have him give me a light squeeze when he’s nervous or scared. To feel his body tense up over jealousy or anger. Yet he keeps that gentle touch for me.

I want to know what it’s like to lay in bed with him at 4am when he can’t sleep; where his thoughts are everywhere and he just needs to escape. To hear his views on life, and about his Interests that I didn’t know about until this state let him.

I want to know what it’s like to run my hand through his hair; to play with his dark soft curls as he lays his head on my lap. To hear him hum against my gentle touches. Where he closes his eyes and his long lashes rest on his cheeks where those hums turn into light snores.

I want to know what it’s like to kiss him; to feel his soft plump lips pressed against mine. To feel the tranquilizing feeling between the two of us, where one or both of us smile. Would we pull away and giggle? Blush? Would he bite his lip and want another kiss? Because I’d definitely get back on my toes and peck him one more time.

I want to know what it’s like to explore with him; to visit little random shops, and talk to locals in a random country. To go hiking and find little rivers we never knew existed. To climb up a mountain trail to find a cliff to sit and watch the sunset. To take candids of him as he looks around on his own admiration trip.

I want to know his stories; to hear all his fuck ups from when he was a kid. To hear what he was thinking before he went out on Hershey Stadium for the first time. Stupid stuff the other boys have done. Hear more about his family and how they really are. To just get to know him more.

I want to know how he is in bed; to feel his hands roam my body. Or mine to touch every inch of his. How he’d grip onto my hips tight but not tight enough to hurt me because he was scared. Is he fast? Slow? Does he have those tranquilizing pace that makes you weak? An intimate moment like that where he actually feels something more than just sex.

I want to know how it feels to be close to him; have my face buried in his chest as he runs his finger tips up and down my back or arms. Listening to his heart beat as I trace the black ink permanently stained onto his body. To look up and catch him staring at me before a small smile forms on both of our lips. Just for my head to return to its original position as he plays with my hair.

I want to know how it feels to hear him say ‘I love you’; where it’s just the two of us laying on the couch one day. And he just blurts it out, his eyes would probably be a light shade of brown and his cheeks pinker than usual. The fear in his eyes that I didn’t feel the same way, but when I said it back they turned a soft shade of brown and he’d smile before pulling me closer to him.

I want to know what it’s like to be with Calum, although it will never be possible.

when words don’t come out

fandom: miraculous ladybug
words: 1770
prompt: “I think I’m in love with you, and I’m terrified.”
rating: general audiences
pairing: ladynoir

Ao3


“I think I’m in love with you, and I’m terrified.”

Chat Noir’s heart skipped a beat. He stared at his lady, who stood before him with angry tears brimming in her eyes like he’d never seen before, and opened his mouth to respond. But for once in his life as Chat Noir, he was speechless.

Words refused to come out.

“Chat Noir, I- I thought I was in love with someone else, okay?” she took a deep, shuddering breath, and clenched her fists at the sides of her head, as if she was trying to block out a noise that Chat couldn’t hear. Perhaps it was her own thoughts. “For so long. For so long I thought I was in love with them, but now I’m falling for you. It keeps me up at night. I feel guilty whenever I’m around him. I don’t even know who you are! That’s the worst of it. Because there are so many things-”

“Ladybug. I… feel the same way as you do.”

“I already know you love me,” she sniffed, hastily wiping her eyes with the back of her hand. “You’ve portrayed that to me enough times, Chaton- I mean, Chat. But I just…”

“No, that’s not what I mean. Well, it’s true that I love you…” Chat trailed off, trying to collect his thoughts. He inched closer to Ladybug, but then shrank back slightly as she flinched away. “I’m scared too, that’s what I mean.”

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#Day11 #OUATChallenge

Favorite Kiss: are you really asking to a CaptainSwaner which kiss she does prefer?

This one is passionate, is something they both need, they both want. They’re fighting against eachother, fighting against the feelings they have.

Then there’s the second one. This one is absolutely outstanding. I mean, it makes me cry and laugh at the same time. I MEAN. Hook totally believes Emma is his ONE TRUE LOVE so as soon as she opens that door and he sees her, he smiles like a boy when Christmas comes. He kisses her, full of hopes but then… she doesn’t remeber. HEARTBREAKING. 

Then there’s the third one. Just after the line “try enchanting the lips of someone I'll actually kiss”. Ahahahah that was hilarious. I mean. Zelena looked like a true CS shipper. She was all like “oww you two are so adorable!”. But let’s get back to the kiss. THIS. I can’t even. She was so desperate, and as she says KILLIAN (let’s underline the name) COME BACK TO ME, i was dying. She gives away everything she has been training on… she gives away the only chance to be the saviour, everything, just to have him back. TOUCHING. 

Ahahah this is amazing. AMAZING. Emma finds any excuse to kiss him. Great. Present!Killian jelousy made the whole thing even more exhilarating

A minute of appreciation for Emma starting the kiss. Idek where to start commenting this kiss. I don’t have so many words on my vocabulary. I CAN’T. I have been waiting this for like 1234567899876543 months. Gosh, Let’s analyse Emma. She is so happy (i mean, she’s kissing Colin. Try not being happy while making out with him, btw), she found her home. 

THIS SMILE. OMG. 

HE WAITS to see her smile, to see if she wants it. And as soon as he realizes it he smiles, there’s a foreheadstouch (told you I don’t have enough words in my vocabulary) and….

…he gets back sucking her face out kissing her (like 1000 or 2000 times btw).

So no. I don’t have a favorite kiss at all. 

Wait For Me To Come Home

Based on Anon Prompt: “Omg pls do another anxiety one its so amazing and beautiful like can you do one where Owen is out and bae has to call him because she’s really scared and he’s stuck in traffic and its really angst because he’s worrled she’ll do something she’ll regret? Please thank you”

A/n: shoutout to my boyfriend who always knows how to help and give me inspiration for how To write comforting!Owen.

You lie in bed holding the stuffed dinosaur Owen got you for moments like this. However, Rexy isn’t helping you right now. Owen is halfway across the island and you’re stuck here, feeling like the world is ending. Once your brain gets you in this mood, there’s no stopping it; all you can think about is every embarrassing, stupid thing you’ve ever done or ever could do and your anxiety feeds off of it.

Remember the time in grade school when you forgot your lines in the school play and the audience started laughing? Or in high school when you were the team’s last hope to win the softball game and you struck out?

However, you also worry about the future: What if Owen changes his mind and can’t handle you. What if there’s something wrong in your body so that you can’t have kids. How are you going to survive another sixty years when the first twenty-five have almost done you in? You wish you could quiet your brain, but you can’t.

You do the only thing you know that can help and you grab your phone, dialing his number. You call him once and he doesn’t answer; twice, still no answer; on the third call, he picks up and you can hear the worry in his voice.

“Y/n, what is it? Are you okay?” You feel your eyes fill up with tears at his question and you pull your legs closer to your chest, making yourself smaller.

“Owen, I don’t know what to do.” He hears it in your voice and you don’t have to say any more. That’s one of the many reasons you love Owen; he knows you almost as well as you know yourself.

“I’m coming home, Sweetheart.” You hear him further from the phone shouting something and then the sound of a car door closing. “I’m on my way. Just wait for me to come home.”

You sniffle into the phone and you feel the sobs start. “I’m so sorry, Owen. You’re trying to work and I made you stop. God I’m so stupid. I’m ruining everything.”  You feel your chest getting tighter as your mind just adds these things to the list.

“Y/n, no. Stop thinking like that. I would drop anything for you, you know that.” He takes a breath and you can almost hear the smile in his voice. “I love you more than anything in the world, and if you’re not feeling well, I’m going to do everything in my power to fix that.”

Yu try to accept his reassurances, but you know you need more than just him on the phone. “I don’t want to do this anymore. Why is it all so hard; I feel like I’m not even in control.” You whine to him.

“That’s because you aren’t.” he says plainly. “You can’t control these reactions your body has. There’s nothing wrong with that, it’s all chemical, Babe.” You know he’s right, but right now you just need him to hold you. “I’m almost there baby, only a few more minutes. You can do that, right?” He asks, “You can make it through a few more minutes until I get home?”

You nod at the phone even though he can’t see you, but he takes your silence as a yes.

“Atta girl. I’m going to be pulling in any second now, and I’ll be able to hold you and chase it all away.” You hear the truck approaching the house and his door slams twice; once through the phone and once outside your window. He hangs up as he walks towards the room and comes to sit beside you on the bed, running his hands through his hair.

“It’s okay, Y/n. I’ve got you. None of that other stuff matters, Okay?” You sit up slightly to wrap your arms around him, and he holds onto you, pulling you both down to lie down.  “None of it matters. I’m with you right here, right now. I’m not going to let anything happen to you, Okay?”

He holds you close and you finally feel the tightness in your chest begin to loosen. You don’t know how he does it; how he makes your body listen to him when it won’t even listen to you, but you’re beyond grateful. The tears slow and he loosens his grip to pull back and look at you. He moves one hand to your cheek and wipes away your tears.

“I’m sorry I made you leave work.” You say, voice cracking from all the crying.

He just smiles and shakes his head. “I’d rather be here by your side any second of the day.” His smile alone makes you feel safe and at home and you know that as long as he is around, none of that other stuff matters.

You know that he won’t always be able to stop the attacks from happening, but he sure as hell will always do whatever he can to make them stop. And for that, you love him.

Thanks for Reading!!