case depart

See, the first time that Newt got lost in Asclepius’ hospital and ended up in Graves’ highly warded highly secret room, he could chalk it up to a strange set of coincidences. An accident, maybe. He took a few wrong turns, a couple of wrong staircases, somehow got an overly pushy snidget soft toy foisted on him by an insistent gift shop, and ended up explaining his theory of flight magic to a comatose director for… a while? He kind of lost track of the time. The charmed window had rolled over to a balmy sunset by the time the door reappeared and the snidget chivvied him out of the room, but Newt hadn’t thought it was that long.

But that’s beside the point. The first time it happened, Newt thought it was an accident. A one off at the very least - he was hardly in the habit of visiting the hospital and wandering off by himself. He wasn’t, in fact, anywhere near the hospital, and Graves wasn’t on his mind, and the door leading out of the gents on MACUSA’s third floor was not supposed to lead to a familiar room with a familiar occupant in the single bed.

The snidget - Steve, it was a stuffed toy but it was a remarkably animated stuffed toy and it deserved a name - wormed its way out of his pocket and chirrupped hopefully at him. He looked over his shoulder but without much optimism; the door he had just walked through was, indeed, gone.

“My apologies, Mr Graves,” Newt said to the sleeping figure. “I won’t be a moment, sorry for disturbing you.” He ushered the snidget away to the furthest corner and lowered his voice.

“Now, listen,” he told it as sternly as he could manage. “You can’t make a habit of kidnapping people like this. I can’t make a habit of being kidnapped like this. I got in enough trouble last time, thank you, so take me back.”


“Back, Steve. I’m not leaving my case in the Auror department by itself.”

Steve gave a low, despondent whistle and landed back on his shoulder, but at least the door rematerialised. How, exactly, it managed to drop him off halfway across the city at the Woolworth’s building Newt didn’t know, but it seemed petty to question it at this point.

He quashed the feelings of guilt about leaving Graves behind. The man had the best care MACUSA could give him, and really, Newt was a complete stranger. He shouldn’t be interfering. What he should be doing is reporting the hole in the wards to Tina or at the very least working out exactly what magic was powering Steve and how it was connected to the hospital. Somehow Newt was never very good at doing what he should, and somehow it was strangely difficult to put Graves out of his mind and focus on the various forms and legislation Tina needed him to run through.

Somehow he wasn’t surprised that walking out the door an hour later with his coat on and his case in hand did not, in fact, lead him to the apparition point.

“Hello again, Mr Graves,” he greeted with a feeling of cautious relief. He’d hoped to be able to come back, but it never did to count on such things. “I’m sorry for leaving so suddenly earlier, but I’m free for the evening if you don’t mind me staying.” He slipped his coat off and hung it on the hook that materialised from the wall and walked over to his chair by the bed without needing prompting. Steve, whizzing in lazy circles around his head, looked insufferably proud.

“I brought my notes this time,” Newt said conversationally as he opened his case. “I won’t be a moment.”

It was… nice, would be the best way to describe it. Newt had his notes, had Steve trying to make a nest out of his hair (and Newt really needed to check on Steve’s animation charms, this was getting ridiculous), Pickett sat on his shoulder and fussily untangling Steve’s work, and Graves’ sleeping form as his patient audience. He was mostly in the editing stage by this point, condensing entire notebooks of research down into a short entry for each creature he’d come across - 

“ - but I was thinking, maybe, of leaving this one as a sort of quick reference encyclopedia book and writing more in depth books on each species, what do you think? Or maybe not each species but maybe the groups of them, each continent perhaps - no those books would be too big. Maybe I should just make the entries longer and stick to one book. One giant book. I could put expandable charms on each section so you could tap your wand to the creature’s name and get a whole chapter dedicated to them, how amazing would that be? A mite impractical, but maybe for special editions… “

It was nice to talk it over with Graves. It helped Newt organise his thoughts, and let’s face it, he liked talking about his creatures. He just very rarely found someone who would listen, and maybe it was a bit unfair to be taking advantage of Graves like this but… Well. It was nice.

So the first time was an accident, the second time lasted all of a minute, and the third time went long into the night before the sleepy snidget started tugging Newt towards the door. He left reluctantly, still juggling papers on lethifolds and wondering whether to include the eyewitness account he’d been given or stick to his own research.

“Oh stop fussing, I’m going, I’m going - I’ll see you tomorrow, Mr Graves, have a good night - good grief Steve calm down - “

The door closed behind him with hurried but silent force and Newt blinked owlishly at the deserted alley he found himself in. It seemed to be one of the back exits to the MACUSA building; the sunken cellar door behind him was layered with enough muggle repellents to give him a headache just standing there. He peered suspiciously at Steve. “How, exactly, are you managing this?” he asked the stuffed toy. If it even was a stuffed toy. Steve tucked himself into Newt’s pocket with Pickett and refused to answer.

He didn’t answer the fourth time, when Newt stumbled through a door in his flat and arrived in Graves’ room half dressed with a toothbrush hanging out of his mouth, or the fifth time when Newt carried a steaming mug of tea and a sandwich through to what should have been his living room. By the sixth time, Newt had started keeping his notes shrunk in his pocket rather than his case; times seven and eight he’d added an expansion charm, a thermos of tea and a portable cooking stove and regaled Graves with stories of misadventures in local cuisine as he put together a basic stew. Chili, that’s all Newt was saying. Entirely unreasonable quantities of hot chili. 

“You know,” he remarked, somewhere around time ten - eleven? - that he’d set up camp in the corner of Graves’ room, “I think I spend more time here than in my actual flat. Between here and the case, I do wonder why I’m paying the rent on it.” He lent forward, chin resting on his knees and wrists loosely crossed over his ankles. Graves was - as ever - still and silent, but Newt had managed to add a few bits and pieces. Weightless charms, to reduce the risk of bedsores. Tweaks to the lighting charms on the ceiling, to better mimic the sun and the rhythm of the day. A bit of a breeze. Smells, outdoor smells - people tended to overlook smell, but it was one of the most important senses. If Graves was even a little aware of his surroundings, Newt thought he should have some better smells around than sterile hospital linen.

He could do more, if he wasn’t worried about tripping the monitoring wards. Turning artificial spaces into natural habitats was what Newt did, what he was good at, and Asclepius’ hospital was all but overflowing with ambient magic that existed to heal - Newt could have turned the cramped room into open Savannah plains if he could convince the hospital it would help Graves. He itched to, occasionally; maybe not plains, but maybe New York? Maybe Graves would prefer the feel of his city, the sounds of busy streets and the rumbling grind of daily life. Newt would like to ask him.

Steve perked up suddenly, interrupting Newt’s thoughts as he took wing and hovered by the door that melted out of the wall. And there, ultimately, was the only thing stopping Newt from moving in: the irregular check ups from Graves’ doctors and guards. Technically, Newt wasn’t supposed to be there. Even if he was eighty seven percent sure that it was the hospital itself that kept dragging him back, Newt doubted that the aurors would take kindly to his intrusion.

“I’ve got to go,” he told Graves regretfully as he moved over to the anchor stones he’d placed around the bed. A wave of his wand collected them and cancelled the atmosphere charms he’d been running, and he felt the walls sigh as Asclepius’ resettled the usual window illusions and wards into place. “We need to talk about your sentient buildings when you wake up though, because I’m starting to lean towards your hospital being possessed. In a good way - did I tell you about the Lares spirits I met? You’d like those, I think.”

He stopped for a moment, staring at Graves and wondering if Graves would, in fact, like them. Newt knew nothing about Graves. He could infer a lot from the auror’s near devotion to him - from Tina’s devotion - and from the harsh persona Grindelwald had pulled on to impersonate him, but.


Graves was pale, in a way that said he was usually tanned but had been kept away from the sun for too long. His hair was dark brown, not black, and it fanned around his head on the pillow. There were furrows etched into his forehead and the beginnings of crows feet at the edge of his eyes, and Newt pushed a stray strand of hair back and wondered if they were from anger or stress. If you worry you suffer twice, but even Newt can’t help but worry when his creatures are in danger and if what Tina said was true - well, maybe Graves worried for his aurors the same as Newt did for his creatures?

“If you’d only wake up,” he whispered, allowing his fingers to rest in Graves’ surprisingly soft hair, “I could ask.”

Steve flittered urgently at the door. Newt couldn’t hear the footsteps on the other side of the wall, but he knew better than to push his luck. He picked up his case and slipped through the door and into an innocuous back street just as the wards peeled back to allow the aurors into the room.

Imagine having to hide your relationship with Sonny while working a case with you brother, Danny

(A/N: All I can say is I’m sorry for being such a crappy blogger. I hope you enjoy this. I’m really sorry) 

Imagine having to hide your relationship with Sonny while working a case with you brother, Danny

“See you both in 30,” Danny said before jogging out the squad-room.

“Seeya,” You called after him as you sat at your desk.

You watched him until he turned the corner and was out of site and then you turned back to look at Sonny, who was sitting at the desk in front of yours, facing you. You caught the final seconds of him lowering his head. He had been watching you but obviously, he didn’t want you to know that. You sighed as you watched him for a few seconds, pretending to be busy.

“Are you mad?” You asked.

“Nope,” Sonny said quickly, not looking up at you.

“You totally are,” You contradicted, “Sonny!”

“I’m not mad,” He said once again but took a breath as he was about to say something else.

“Don’t say it,” You warned, recognizing his tone almost immediately.

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meanieminime  asked:

I'm looking for fics that have : 1) Forced Partnership 2) Smut 3) a Dark!Draco or them going from a hate to love relationship. 4) Complete fic I guess something similar to everythursday's Parade of the Sun and Gravidy's God of the Lost. Please recommend your top 5 fics that fit the requirements. You guys are awesome, thanks!

Hi! Check these out:

(I can’t choose just 5 fics lol)

A Deliberate Deception by silverotter1 - E, one-shot - Hermione: When forced to work with Draco Malfoy on a murder case for the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, she is supremely irritated. As their work draws them closer together, she finds it more and more difficult to resist him. Draco: A big shot at the department, he is annoyed with having to share his case with brainy Hermione Granger. Conflicted, he soon admits there is more to her than he recalls.

An Aversion to Change by Misdemeanor1331 - MA, 42 Chapters - After his failed attempt on Dumbledore’s life, Draco seeks refuge at the Order of the Phoenix. Sent back to Hogwarts with suspicious title of Head Boy, he is forced to share a dormitory with none other than Hermione Granger. But with war looming on the horizon and sinister happenings in Hogwarts itself, their seventh year together is anything but ordinary.Slow moving D/Hr with plenty of plot and some fluff for good measure. :)

A Certain Step by Darkrivertempest - MA, 5 Chapters - Frustrated with the Minister for Magic and in possession of two left feet, Hermione is forced to take dance lessons. Under her instructors, she not only learns to move with grace, but gets more than she bargained for in the process.

Out of the Silent Planet BY : ianthe_waiting - MA, 39 Chapters -  Post-Hogwarts - Hermione Granger fulfills Severus Snape’s final wish, to journey to Japan to retrieve’ something of importance. Set eleven years after HBP.

One of the Monsters By: galfoy - M, 9 Chapters - Doubt was a funny thing. It was like a tick; harmless on the surface, but when it burrowed in deep, extremely dangerous. For Draco Malfoy, successful Death Eater, ruthless soldier and proud Pureblood, it may just be his downfall.

The Symmetrical Transit by everythursday - MA, 12 Chapters - Draco believed the world was screwed up because a lack of balance. Everything in the world had its equal parts – love, hate; right, left; sun, moon – but no one ever grew up with these parts in the same proportion, which made them off. People were either forced to live discordant, or they were lucky enough to find that balance through someone else.

Uncoffined by lady_of_clunn - MA, 13 Chapters - When all is lost, we are willing to do whatever it takes to survive.

The Dragon’s Bride By: Rizzle - M, 61 Chapters 7th year. Draco & Hermione awaken in a Muggle hotel room, naked, hung-over and tattooed. They also happen to be married. Thus begin a desperate search for a solution to their sticky situation.

The New York Revelation By: kalee60 - M, 7 Chapters - Hating each other for a lifetime - easy. Being forced to work together - impossible. When Hermione & Draco are sent to New York on a mission, things don’t go exactly as planned, and neither had any idea what working closely would eventually reveal…

- Jamie

im glad i couldn’t choose rotterdam (netherlands) for erasmus program bcuz there are so many students who wanna go there and there are political problems between turkey and the netherlands (actually europe in general) that they are very worried whether they’ll be given the visa n shit

Be Slow With Me

Based on this imagine by @ilostmyshoe-79

Pairing: Sam x Reader

Word Count: 2,023

Warnings: smut, fluff, oral sex

Tags: @aprofoundbondwithdean @anotherwinchesterfangirl @blushingsamgirl @deandoesthingstome @fvckinpayno @fingersinsamshair @kittenofdoomage @leatherwhiskeycoffeeplaid @littlegreenplasticsoldier @mysupernaturalfic @mrswhozeewhatsis @msimpala67 @naughtyspnimagine @oriona75 @pornalecki @ruby-loves-supernatural @sammysnaughtygirl @samsdirtylittlesecret @smutalecki @spectaculacular-sammy @takeitoffwinchester @winchesterenthusiast @winchester-smut @withoutaplease @is-this-you-manning-up-sammy
@sammiesbabe @spn-xiat @padaheck @kayteonline @alwayskeepshakingitoff  @faegal04 @krystalreign @fuckmeupwinchester

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Jumin's Treatment towards Jaehee (Jaehee's Route) - Korean vs. English Comparison


I got two questions that are very similar, but in two different languages whaaat~ this is actually a very good question! I was actually hoping that someone would ask me this question because I think there is a big clash between my opinion and a lot of opinions (mostly majority) I would assume ^^;;; I would be glad to answer this question, and as a sneak peak, I will tell you, I think quite similar to you! I’ll explain soon ^^

안녕하세요~^^ 칭찬을 너무 많이 하신것같아요!! 저도 현재 공부하는중이라서 아직은 여기저기 오타가있을수있어요ㅠㅠ 하지만 제가 공부를 도움을 줄수있다면 영광스러워요~^^ 설명은 당연히 할수있죠! 영어공부를 하신다고하니 영어로 분석을 하겠지만 만약에경우 한국말로 따로 설명이 필요하신다면 메시지 보내시면 제가 설명해드릴게요^^ 블로그 방문해주셔서 감사합니다~^^ 

Okay! With the greetings out of the way, please join me under the cut if you would like to know more about why I don’t really sympathize or identify with Jaehee in this topic or the criticism towards Jumin for his behavior during Jaehee’s route.

Please note that although this is an analysis, there may be opinions that may differ or be consistent with mine! While I can give some sort of Korean background, for debatable topics, I do not represent all of the Korean minds for respective topics. Also, please excuse any errors or let me know if clarifications are needed, for English is not my first language! Thank you and enjoy!

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safe | percival graves

prompt: 78 and 113 from the prompt list with Percival? Thank you! ;w; ♡ “what do you mean you thought I hated you when we first met” “can you please be happy for me for five minutes.” + “i’m always happy for you.”

theme: idk this is fluff with pre and post grindelwald so a little angst too jk be prepared for destruction and heart ache, my next percival graves story will be fluffy

warnings: obvious torture and stuff, a few cusses, PTSD

author note: ah I’m 200 away from 4K my loves & this is kinda ok

Originally posted by percivalgravessource



His time was running out.

With every sideways glance and look cast over his shoulder to the shadows that followed him, he had become acutely aware that time was falling through his fingertips. Everyone had noticed his–odd behavior. No one said anything though, sometimes people got a bit paranoid but usually they shook it off within a couple of weeks. Not him. Nights when he was walking to your apartment for dinner he could hear the footsteps following him. His wand always ready–just in case.

He hadn’t expected to be taken in broad daylight though. Kissing your cheek as he said goodbye as the two of you went separate ways for work. You were in the field that day and he was suppose to go fill out the rest of his paper work from the last case your department was on. Only, he could see the building when his entire body tended and the burning feeling began. Splitting him open and he wanted to scream but his mouth wouldn’t open. He watched the building and wondered why no one could see him, no one was coming to help him. That moment was torture, the beginnings of it though. This part, despite the pain, was a kind of mental torture. Tauntingly, you almost made it.

He feels his body force itself up and he is moved from the street and then he’s in what looks to be a basement. The man who had his hand securely grasped onto his coat throws him to the ground with a thud. The word Crucio being repeated like wildfire–ironically that’s what his entire body felt like.

Now he could scream and he felt like the screams were being ripped from his body. Nonstop, the burning sensation continued for longer than he felt he could handle. His hands trying, in a primitive way, to rip his clothes away as if that would make the feeling stop.

Grindelwald stood before him smugly, “what do you say we make this easy. You can join me and ever have to feel this again or–you can suffer everyday until I get what I want most.”

Grindelwald side steps when Percival goes to attack him, grabs the man by the back of his hair and slams his face into a wall. Busting the side of his mouth open and blood to pool into his mouth and down his chin. He tries to jerk out of the man’s grasp but even he knows it’s futile. All he can do is hope that someone comes for him. Then his head is snatched back and Grindelwald is practically dragging him–miraculously through the room. Percival was not a small man. He took pride is being fit and it was necessary for the job. So, how this man was pulling him with such ease was beyond him. Finally, his back slammed into a chair and a charm was set so he wouldn’t be able to get out of the chair.

Grindelwald’s fingers came to pat his cheek softly, a smile consuming his face, “oh, Mr. Graves, you’ll be singing a new tune before I’m done with you.”


He woke up on his couch with his hair in his face. You were probably long gone after the stunt he had pulled. He wasn’t a man to let people in–feelings were a liability in his job. Leverage. Leverage he never wanted to give anyone, though his Momma wanted him to hurry up and settle down. Give her some grand-babies. Carry on the family name.

He pushed himself up with the base of his palms and rubbed his eyes. He could still taste the fire whiskey in his mouth and the feeling of your lips against his. It had only lasted for a few seconds before you pulled away and excused yourself and left his apartment. He stood up and unbuttoned his shirt and slipped it off in exchange for something more comfortable.

Stupid, stupid, you idiot, he thought, why would you do that. Of all things. Kissing [y/n] bye like she could have actually felt the same. She was only here for work and you–you let your feelings get in the way.

He walked into his kitchen and opened his refrigerator. Glancing around to see what exactly–if any leftovers were in there. Wasn’t likely, when he got drunk and in his feelings he tended to eat his leftovers cold. He slammed it shut and then went to his pantry. Stopping when he heard a soft knock come from his door.

He sighed and went to the door. Debating whether to open it or leave the person on the other side knocking took longer than he thought but he opted for seeing who would be there at–1:27 in the afternoon. Breathing in and opening the door slowly, “listen, I don’t care what you want, I don’t want to buy it.”

The two of you looked at each other for a moment before his mouth went dry and his chest got tight. Bless his façade though, his face never changed from his usual stoic expression.

“Listen, I’m really sorry that I ran last night after you kissed me. I wasn’t really expecting it because I know you have this whole policy that romantic relationships are a waste of time and I thought you hated me when we first met–not that I think you hate me now–and I wasn’t sure what to do and–”

“Wait, wait, wait,” he brought his hand up, “what do you mean you thought I hated you when we first met?”

You breathed in sharply and looked around the hall and then back to your boss. Pressing your lips together and then wringing your hands together and swallowing. Percival Graves hated everyone, at least, that’s what everything in his department thought.

He pressed his lips together and closed his eyes and then shook his head, “I’ve never hated you–I’m sorry if it seemed like that. I’ve always been attracted to you and I wasn’t sure how exactly to act on it so I might have come off harsh. And I’m sorry that I kissed you last nigh, it wasn’t very gentlemen like of me.”

Awkward silence filled the empty space between your words. Percival looking down at you and you looking anywhere but him. Out of the corner of his eye he could see his neighbor loitering in the hall to hear what was happening so she had something to gossip about later. Old women.

He could hear her mumbling to whoever was standing inside her apartment. Probably one of the ladies from her church. “I never thought Percival Graves would be having a conversation like this–I know she was there last night–obviously he was being indecent–hm, no idea, hopefully she’s slap him–oh wait, I think they’re going to admit they’re in love–oh.”

“Would you like to, uh, get lunch with me?” He asked hesitantly, “I mean you don’t have to if you don’t want to.”

”I’d love to.”

When Grindelwald was discovered you weren’t very surprised–well you were but it had been one of those moments where all you could do was press your palms together and sigh. Obviously, Percival was acting different and since you were suppose to be on a relationship with him you noticed the most.

The man didn’t want to tell anyone where Percival was either. He loved to watch the MACUSA squirm, especially about this. He did describe everything he did to him though, all the terrible, horrible things that you knew had destroyed him.

“Oh,” Grindelwald sighed, “he’s a fighter. He never would join me. Even when I told him that I had killed you. He didn’t believe it but I showed him so false memories and I had him crying like the boy he truly is. It’s been about four months now since I first convinced him you were dead.”

You escorted yourself from the room.

The President didn’t tell you what made the man tell them were Percival was but he did and you were the first person sent in to locate him. She said it probably be better for him, to see someone that loved him. You agreed and left immediately.

The place were he was said to be was a small, run down house just outside of the city. The inside was well kept up as Grindelwald and his fanatics often met just above where he was keeping the man. Glancing around the rooms it all seemed to normal. It wasn’t particularly gloomy in the house and it actually looked like a family lived there–though you knew otherwise.

Eventually, and with your heart in your throat, you made your way to the basement. The light was still on and it smelt stale as you made you way down the steps and into the room. You could see the blood, what had had down plastered on the walls and in the middle of the room was Percival.

You slowly made your way toward him, treating him much like a caged animal. He was barely breathing and his eyes were fluttering as if he was about to fall asleep but you assumed he had been this was for awhile. His hair had grown past his ears and a beard hugged his cheeks. All you could think was about how long he had been there.

“Percival.” You called to the man once. His face jerked and you could finally see him. The hollowness of his cheeks and the dead look in his eyes. What looked like cigarette burn in his skin–because it wasn’t enough to just torture him with magic–and his scabbed over lips from too much hitting.

Your hand came out to cup the side of his face but he jerked away from you, “this is–this is a trick. [y/n] is dead.”

Your chest tightened and you shook your head, “no, Percival. No it isn’t. I’m here, here to take you home.”

Wild eyes stared at you for a long time, trying to decipher the truth. As if he had seen this exact scenario play in front of him and million times before. Fighting with what his brain thought was true and what his eyes were showing him and looked away. His neck, a field of blossomed bruises in the shape of hands. When he realized you had seen it–him–all of him and what he had been shrunk down too–he looked down to his lap.

“When I get you out of the chair I’ll give you some water and food if you like. I brought a little because I assumed you want some. Nothing special but whenever you come home I’ll make you whatever you want and there’s this muggle pastry shop just around the block from my apartment that I’ll take you to sometime.” You rushed the words from your mouth and you unraveled the charms that kept him pin to the chair whenever Grindelwald and his fanatics weren’t slapping him around.

He stood on weak legs that threatened to give on themselves and refused your help up the stairs. Though, you kept one hand on his back for good measure. If he wasn’t so broken, when he wasn’t so broken, he would be embarrassed that you saw him in such a state. Though, as his knees gave and you grabbed him, it wasn’t a time to worry.

He sat on his knees, your arms still wrapped around him and he started to cry. Never in your life would you have thought you’d see him cry but there he was. His body in trembling beneath your touch and a lit of swears flew into the air. Then he was apologizing to you for what he did. For letting him take him and not being strong enough to keep him away.

“No, sweetheart. This isn’t your fault. You don’t need to apologize for what happened here. I swear, I’ll kill him. I’ll fucking kill him.

He comes home a week later when the hospital’s done all they can for him. They can’t heal his mind or the scars and that ruins him a little more. You take him to your apartment; that’s where he’s going to live. It’s better that way, easier to keep an eye on him.

When you bring him through the door he just stands there. Breathing in and looking around because he was gone so long but you hadn’t changed anything. His clothes consume him and despite the healers abilities he’ll walk with a slight limp because of the constant damage to his right leg.

“I moved your stuff here, your clothes and your belongings.” You stand beside him and put your hand on his back, he flinches away and you drop your hand completely. Guilt consumes him like his clothes when he watches you walk toward the kitchen.

He sleeps for three days, curled up on your side on the bed and clutching your pillow. A soft reminded that he won’t ever have to go back to that basement. You make him whatever he asks–which is homemade pasta like his momma used to make and bring him hot chocolate. It’s easy to tell he feels like a burden and wishes you wouldn’t take care of him but you kiss his forehead and tell him you love him–he isn’t sure if believes it for a long time.

Most days you have to go to work and when you come back his shoulders are set and he’s sitting by the window and staring. At what, you aren’t sure. Possibly the people whose lives will never be affected like this. Jealousy runs through him until you come and sit by him and ask what he wants for dinner.

He’d been home for three months and had made some improvements. Reverted back to some of his old ways, as well. He was still riddled with nightmares that just caused him to curl into your body in fear. When you didn’t wake up he’d lay there, pressed against you, every little noise causing him to jump slightly. On the other hand, when you were awake and pulling him close and wrapping him in the blanket, he always shivered when he woke up from nightmares, you would kiss the side of his head and tell him that it was okay now, that he was safe, no one was ever going to hurt him like that again.

One day, with your patience running thin from work, you walked in and walked to him like you usually did. Sitting by him and glancing out the window, trying to keep the volatile emotions down. Your eyes focused on the little people below, knees knocking with his as the sun began to settle into the horizon.

Everyday you got off at the same time, no matter the situation. They wanted Percival back and that meant letting you out early to try and bring him a little bit more back into the real world.

Unexpectedly, he places his hand on your cheek, “Can I help you today?”

Kissing the palm of his scarred hand you nod and the two of you go to the kitchen.

Percival hated himself after what happened. His now scarred body, the nightmares, the pitiful looks people gave him. He hated it, all of it. Some days you would find him looking at himself in the mirror. You had got his weight back on him and he exercised regularly but it was too different for him now. Too much ugly and his voice–it hadn’t changed it every time he heard it it drove him up the wall and he wished he didn’t speak. Speaking had become rare.

He was helping you bake some garlic chicken and making homemade rolls because he loved them and you’d do anything to make him happy. Flour was everywhere and you were laughing and he looked like he wanted to–but you could still feel the annoyance rolling up into your throat. Not for what happened but the people the surrounded you when it did. Their reactions.

“I got promoted today, Head of Magical Customs and Trade.” You smiled to him but he didn’t make a sound. Just continue with what he was doing–which happened the be mashed potatoes at that moment.

You clenched your jaw, “isn’t that great?”

He shrugged, and the Lord knows you didn’t want to get angry with him and cause him to jump like that and drop the bowl and he already thinks he can’t do anything right.

Can you please just be happy for me–for five minutes.

He’s frightened for a moment by the tone in your voice before he bends down to pick up the broke bowl and then clean the food off the ground. Mumbling to you in a pitiful voice, “I’m always happy for you.”

Then you’re next to him and he’s slightly shaking and it causes piece of the bowl to cut his hand but not enough to count. You grab his hands and he drops the pieces back to the floor. His face is getting red and you quickly clean the mess and sit him down in the living room.

Your pull him close to you, his body shaking and you know he’s going to have flashbacks, “I shouldn’t have yelled at you, I’m so so sorry Perci.”

His hands grab at your sides and he squeezes his eyes shut and he knows you didn’t mean to yell–he could see the frustration in your features from the moment you stepped in that day but it still scared him and then he was wondering what kind of man gets scared like that? Over something like that.

“What does that say about me then? I couldn’t handle it.” He’s laughing but it’s forced and you lean him back and look him in the eyes with a seriousness he hadn’t seen since you first brought him to the hospital. When you told him you loved him while he lay in the bed.

You swallow, “it makes you the strongest man I’ve ever known.”

Later that night, when he wakes up from one of his nightmares in a cold sweat, he kisses you on the mouth. The first time since you found him in the basement. Bruising, he’s missed you and needed you and he isn’t better and you both know that but you love each other and you’re hands are pulling him close to you so he knows he’s safe and that’s what matters.

inspiring-goddess  asked:

What is tunnel about?

A cop investigating serial murders (Park Kwang-ho) in 1986 finds himself in 2016 after running into a tunnel while pursuing the culput. ‘Coincidentally’, a rookie cop with the same name is supposed to be transferred to the police department our male lead used to work at on the same day. He never shows up, so Park Kwang-ho joins the department under his identity. He gets teamed up with a talented ill-tempered young detective (Kim Sun-jae) who is supposed to be his senior. The two start working together on different cases while Park Kwang-ho is trying to figure the reason he leapt through time and if there’s a way to go back. The female lead (Shin Jae-yi) is a creepy young professor who studies female murderers and understands their motives and feelings suspiciously well. She is asked to assist on the cases of the department. Kim Sun-jae and Shin Jae-yi start developing feelings for each other, and Kim Sun-jae’s relationship with Park Kwang-ho slowly grows from mutual hatred to great team work. That’s about all I can say without spoiling the plot too much.

style005  asked:

Hey Aaron SVTFOE is an amazing show with an amazing cast I was wondering if you knew how they go about hiring voice actors thanks in advance and keep up the great work

Disney has a casting department that works with Daron to identify what our upcoming voice acting needs are. Sometimes we need utility voice actors who are super talents that can do a wide variety of voices to populate our show. Other times we have an actor in mind that we feel would be perfect for a certain part. In either case, the casting department reaches out to their representation. I’m pretty sure Disney strictly works with SAG actors, but don’t quote me on that. I could be wrong.

"That one" she said as she pointed vaguely at the meat case (From my meat department days)

So honestly this story is, in my opinion, better than the last story I told here. I had forgotten about this until I was thinking about other petty stuff I did while I worked in a meat department.

So in case you’ve never seen a meat department there is a long cooler with glass and you can look at the meat we have. We stood on the other side and would grab your meat, weigh it, then package it.

So one of my pet peeves when people would just point and say “I’ll have two of those” it was really difficult to see what they were pointing to so I’d try to take an educated guess as to what they wanted and ask if it was correct. Most of the time they would get the hint and read the label so I knew what to grab.

This one pudgy lady comes in and waddles up to the case. I greet her with my fake customer service smile and she points and grunts. I ask her “Ma'am do you want the x?” and she just looks at me dead in the eyes and says “That” And looks back down at the case. I’m totally confused and her finger could be pointing at like six different things.

I bend down to look and see if I can tell where she is pointing but I have no idea. So I start naming off things in the general vicinity. She kept responded with more agitated “Thats”. After some time I start thinking she might be illiterate and I felt bad. So I walk around to the front of the case to see if I can tell what she is pointing at. She starts pounding on the glass with her finger saying “That one right there” and her finger was in such a vague area I had no idea what she was asking for.

So I go back around the case and ask “How many would you like?” and she says “A few” so I picked out the most expensive thing in the area and put six of them in a package. The total rang up to be about $75 if I remember correctly.

I handed her the package after weighing it up and she walked away without even looking at the label to see I gave her the right thing.

I had no idea what she was trying to accomplish because it was pretty clear I had no idea what she wanted. And when I asked clarifying questions she didn’t really respond. So I sold a shit load of stuff to her and got a thumbs up from my boss for making a big sale.

Imagine Dean’s reaction when Mulder hits on you at a bar. Dean secretly has feelings for you

Requested Imagine

Characters: Reader, Fox Mulder, Dean, mention of Sam

Pairings: Mulder x Reader, Dean x Reader

Warnings: angst, fluff, jealousy

Word Count: 2,000

Summary: After a strange week, the boys and you head to a bar to unwind. You meet Fox Mulder there. He has been trailing the same case that you and the boys were working on. He buys you a drink and you decide to throw caution to the wind and go with him. After all, he is perfect. You tell Dean not to wait up with a wink, but Dean has much different plans for you tonight. You have no idea.

Things to know: Requested by @themutedfaith Dean had feelings for the reader, but hasn’t admitted them, but when they run into agent Fox Mulder on a case, he realizes that he may have competition when Mulder asks her out. Turns into a competition of the best man wins after Dean confronts Mulder at a bar.

I took some liberties on the story, so it isn’t exactly as requested, but close.

Hope you’re happy with it! Turned out WAY longer than I anticipated, but I got into the story and couldn’t stop!

It had been a seriously strange week. One of the most odd cases you and the boys had run into yet. Dean had been abducted and returned, completely weirded out. When you and Sam finally got to the bottom of the story, you learned that you were facing fairies.

As you sat in the bar, you could still hear what Dean had yelled at you when he had been arrested after attacking what he thought was a fairy.

You and Sam had approached the scene as Dean was being put in the cop car.

“Dean!” Sam had yelled after him.

“What the hell?” You asked as his head was being ducked into the cop car. His response had just about sent you rolling with laughter in the middle of the street.

“Fight the fairies, Sam! You fight those fairies, Y/N!” The door to the car had slammed in his face, the crowd around you thinking he must be crazy. As he sat in the back of the cop car, his head whipped around to look at the two of you and you heard faintly, “Fight the Fairies!” As the car pulled away.

Keep reading

When Lightning Strikes Chapter 1 - Supply Closet

A/N: New fan fic author. I am obsessed with the Flash, Arrow, Supergirl, and Gotham. This is been something I’ve been playing around with for a while. I hope you like it.

Word Count: 1,115

Chapter 2 - …and four days

Chapter 3 - Going Home

Chapter 4 - Training and the Truth

Chapter 5 - Adulting and Alcohol

I couldn’t help but notice the way he looked at her. The way he always looked at her. He loved her. Iris didn’t even notice the way his heart ached every time she walked into a room. But I did. I noticed because I was feeling that same ache in the center of my chest. It swelled up inside me knowing the man I loved, loved someone else. She flounced into the room smiling, as I sat at my desk in the lab hiding behind my computer screen. “Barry, come on, that atom smasher thingy is about to start,” particle accelerator, I thought at the same time as Barry said the same thing. “Whatever,” she waved, “let’s get going.”

“I can’t. Joe needs me here and I’ve got some tests to run,” Barry sighed. Barry was helping Detective West with a case. We normally worked on cases for the whole department but he was always working with West. Probably because he was like a stand in father for him, but it often left me with more cases, more work, and less time for myself.

“Oh come on Barry you’ve been looking forward to this for your whole life!”

“I know but I’ve got work to do, and Joe will kill me if I just leave,” Barry explained as she rolled her eyes and stole his fries, “Hey!” The flirty looks they were shooting each other was too much for me to handle. It made me sick to my stomach, watching her string him along.

“Barry, I’m gonna step out for a bit,” I yelled not waiting for a response and rushed out of the room trying to hold in my emotions. Detective West was glancing down at a case file headed toward me. And before he could look up I ducked into the supply closet holding my breath. As I pulled the door behind me quietly I let out a large gasp of air. 

It’s like my chest was growing tight and all the oxygen was escaping my body. My hands were shaking as I swallowed a lump in my throat. And I was now at the tipping point of hyper-ventilating.

“Come on, pull yourself together. So he’s in love with Iris, big deal. Get over it! You have a job to do. Okay, breathe.” taking a deep breath I composed myself, “He doesn’t love you. And one sided love it torture so let… it… go.”

I took one more breath and built up the courage to leave my supply closet safe haven. The door opened and as I stepped out I ran smack into Barry.

“Whoa, Lola. I’m sor- uh, what were you doing in the supply closet?” he pointed to the door and looked at me head tilted.

“Oh uh, just needed to get a new file,” I said reaching for the shelf and pulling one out, “Well, see ya.” With a small wave I started heading back to the lab.

“Wait, Lola,” Iris called grabbing my wrist, “You like all of this science stuff too? You want to come see the particle whatever with us?” Do I want to see it? Yes. With the two of you? No.

“Um, you know I have a lot of cases to catch up on. Maybe if I finish I’ll meet you later?”

“You sure?” Barry asked with somewhat of a confused expression. He knew how much I loved what Harrison Wells was doing down at STAR Labs.

“Yep,” I said with smile and an emphasis on the p. “Have fun though!” I smiled and then spun around and rushed to the lab.

“That was weird,” I heard Iris whisper and heard Barry agree.

Great. Just great. Now I’m the antisocial workaholic weirdo.

As the hours passed I made my way through the mound of evidence waiting to be processed. Throwing myself into my work was the only thing that helped me deal with my stress. And you think I would know better by now. 

After transferring to Central City a year ago I thought I’d never have any friends let alone meet someone. And while I’m still somewhat lacking in the friends department I have somehow fallen hopelessly in love with a guy who seems like my other half. But I couldn’t think about that anymore. Especially when it was clear that Barry loved Iris.

To help distract myself I blared my music through my earbuds. Allowing the lyrics to drown out the racing thoughts in my head. And in the past three hours I ran test after test on DNA samples, soil collections, weapons, and more. Then I felt something tug on my earbud cord that made me squeal.

“Lola, it’s just me. Sorry I didn’t mean to scare you,” his crooked smile warmed my heart.

“Yeah I’m fine sorry. Just stressed,” I gave a small smile as I turned back to my computer with facial recognition running rapidly.

“Yeah I noticed,” crap, “What were you really doing in the supply closet? I know it was not to get a file, there’s a stack of new files right next to your desk.”

“Nothing, I just needed a break,” he grabbed the arm of my chair and turned me to face him. As he stared me down I tried to remain nonchalant. 

“Has anyone ever told you, you’re not a very good liar?” he raised his brow, green eyes searching my own.

“I’m not lying. Now don’t you have some cases to get to?” For another second he searched my face before giving up. 

“Fine,” he pushed away, splashing in the puddles from the leaking roof. 

“How was watching the particle accelerator?” I asked “Did you see Harrison Wells?”

“Yeah it was great, he gave a speech, but then someone tried to snatch Iris’ purse so we didn’t get to stay long. You should’ve come,” he looked at me. His eyes drew me out of my seat.

“But then the Captain would’ve killed both of us. Someone has to keep this CSI team afloat,” I joked nudging his arm.

“Hey, I work,” he laughed.

“Yeah for Joe,” l laughed stepping closer to him, both of us standing in the puddle on the floor, drops of water pooling on my shoulder. 

“Okay so you have a point,” and I nodded to him with a wide grin just as we heard a loud noise, “What was that?” Barry asked.

“I-I- don’t know,” and just as the words escaped my lips a bolt of lightning crashed through the glass windows, shattering them, and striking both Barry and myself. Electricity coursing through my veins, and heating my insides until the moment I hit the floor and lost consciousness.

bengudill  asked:

Hi TT, you remind me of Éowyn of Rohan from Lord of the Rings. I sense that just like her you are a brave, powerful and strong daughter of a king. After all the pain and loss Éowyn went through she still fought for the people she loved and kicked ass! I so know that your world's dark Lord of the Nazgûl will be slain by your sword, as well. And would you be so kind to answer 1, 7 and 24 ? :)

You are just too kind, Bengu! I doubt I’m as badass as Éowyn, but thankkkkk you!!!! 💗💗💗

1. if someone wanted to really understand you, what would they read, watch, and listen to?

Read: The Heather Wells series by Meg Cabot. Heather Wells is basically me, but more talented in the musical department.
Case in point: She’s in a highly dangerous situation that could most certainly lead to a very painful death, and her most overwhelming thought in that situation is about… Pringles. Yep. Sounds like me, alright. 

Watch: A bizarre blend of 90s and early 2000s Hollywood rom-coms and A LOT of Bollywood (the classics, as well as the kind of trash they review on Pretentious Movie Reviews; I LOVE LOVE LOVE TERRIBAD BOLLYWOOD MOVIES). 

Listen: The Dil Se and Rockstar soundtracks by A. R. Rahman, Creep by Radiohead. 

7. do you care about your ethnicity?

Ethnicity as an Indian is complicated, imo. It’s mostly language (and thus state) based. My ethnicity is Malayali, but as I’ve lived out of India all my life, it’s really more all-round-Desi, than purely Malayali. I do care incredibly about the language and the cinema of Kerala, but am concerned about India the country as a whole, rather than just my state. Yeah, I’d say I identify as Indian first, and then Malayali within that. 

24. have you ever felt like you had a “mind-meld” with someone?

My mind is a dark and shadowy realm where I mostly don’t let many people in (mostly in the interests of self-preservation), but I have shared the experience with a few close female friends! 

Sleepover Saturday on Tellywood Trash!

is it just me or...

did this outfit:

make ya’ll go:

Originally posted by silverliningsdontplaybitch

you know who else is a real big fan of Wisconsin Athletics?

I mean…I don’t know if you noticed:

and that XL?

Imagine a domestic!AoKise AU where Aominecchi coming back home to Kise bby cooking dinner for them both while wearing an apron. And Aominecchi walks into the kitchen and hugs his bby from behind and tells him that “Dinner looks delicious tonight,” to which Kise replies to him that Aominecchi is so silly and he haven’t even finish making dinner yet–! 

And then Aomine catches bby’s lips into a kiss before he smirks and says “Tastes fucking good too.”