catching vomit

Sharing Fan Works: by a fan artist

We love making art, and sharing it with you. We love putting our hearts into our work, whether it’s art or fanfics or what have you, sharing it, and seeing the amazing work that others do. In my experience, making fan art, especially art of OCs, is an incredibly personal undertaking. For a lot of us, it takes a great deal of love and courage to share our craft with you guys.
And if you haven’t noticed, we are very protective of our creative work. We put hours of labor into our art. We care deeply about the subject matter. And just like any commercial artist or published writer, we want to be recognized for our hard work, and not have it invalidated.

When friends and followers use tags like “mine” or “look it’s me! I look so good!” for pieces that are not explicitly intended for them, what it tells us, as artists, is that you don’t want to recognize our unique creations (especially OC’s), and by extension, that you don’t want to recognize our hard work, or us, as creative artists.

I know that I can be guilty of it. In the heat of the moment, sometimes I catch myself word-vomiting in the tags of art and fics that I strongly relate to, because they’re exciting and AMAZING. And while feeling this way can be very exciting, this can be very hurtful to the creator when you start self-inserting. 99% of the artists I know will look through all of their reblogs to look through the tags, because it makes them feel good about their hard work. And when a friend with good intentions shares it, but chooses to identify the art as art of themselves, it is very demotivating. I find myself thinking things like 

“Was my OC so bad that you had to go and reidentify them?”
“Why couldn’t you have just asked me if I could draw your character instead? Am I that unapproachable?”
“Why can’t you create your own content for yourself, instead of commandeering mine??”

All of these questions are toxic to an artist’s creativity.

Please consider the time, and energy, and emotions of the creator. When you see an OC or fan work that sends you over the moon, let the creator know that, not yourself. Hell, go to the artist’s page, see if they’re cool with requests or collaborations! Many of us are! (And please respect the artists who aren’t, remember that we are here of our own accord, and don’t owe our followers anything!)

We love making and sharing our work with you, and collectively “fangirling (I’m using this with a positive connotation!) But please, respect our work and our efforts as artists. If you don’t, chances are we won’t want to stay around, or share the things we all love, for very long.

anonymous asked:


Jin: But I’m not experiencing any unrequited love though… now if you excuse me I’m gonna go play some Mario Kart with JK over here

Alright, I’m so fucking pissed right now, and the only way to explain to you guys why I am so fucking pissed is to tell you about that medical condition I mentioned having. Don’t laugh if you can help it, it’s not funny for me.

I have IBS.

I’m not explaining it if you don’t understand, look it up.

It’s hell, okay? I was in remission for years, then it started up again. I’m so far behind in school that I’m afraid I may never catch up. I’m constantly vomiting and just sleeping all day, sometimes leaving class to go into the bathroom. But today marked the last straw.

So I was in the bathroom for an hour to puke my guts out, causing me to miss Mass Media (Photography) and ICP (Integrated Chemistry-Physics). That’s bad in its own sense, but I hate going to the nurse. She’s so fucking cocky and rude, and has constantly implied I am faking being sick. So I decided to go to a teacher who runs my IEP, since I trust her and we’re on great terms. Also because I texted my mom and she suggested it. But of course, she isn’t there.

I go across the hall to the Study Hall teacher…whom I hate with a burning passion. You’ll see why.

I sat at a table and said “hey, I’ve been sick in the bathroom for an hour, so you mind if I die here for a bit?” and put my head down.

And I shit you not, the bitch says “okay, well here’s an old worksheet you missed,” and set it right in front of me.

I gave her my famous ‘Bitch, really?’ look, and said “are you kidding me?”

“Fine, don’t do it! I don’t care!” She snatched it back, and I just glared harder. “Go to class!”


“HERE!” She signed a pass and slapped it down in front of me.

I’m at home right now, and I’m growing more pissed as the minutes tick by. I’m sorry for whining like a little bitch, I needed to rant to someone. Fuck my school.

On a lighter note, I think I’ll do Long Tall Sally for the talent show.

its-a-goddamn-heartbreak  asked:

Xander and Zubin going on a night out, and getting those manky kebabs that people love, and it makes one of them really sick - either food poisoning, or their stomach just can't handle it

A/N: So this turned out as a bit of a laugh, but I actually super enjoyed writing this! This is Zubin’s first fic - and I hope you enjoy it! 💙

“You’re r’lly drunk…” Zubin poked his finger into Xander’s broad shoulder while they slumped against the brick wall; the lit tip of his cigarette brushed on the shoulder of Xander’s shirt and Xander gave a brief yelp.

“Yeah…” Xander agreed as Zubin looked blearily from his cigarette to Xander’s shoulder.

“ ‘m r’lly drunk…” Zubin giggled, brushing the ash from Xander’s shirt and coming perilously close to burning his face.

“You are,” Xander nodded, then a wicked grin spread across his features and he pulled Zubin in close to kiss him. He tasted like smoke and Jack Daniels, and it was heavenly. Zubin’s eyes were closed as he pulled away, and took a long slow drag then dropped his cigarette. “You’re bad…” Xander purred into Zubin’s ear.

“Who t’fuck wants t’be good?” Zubin asked, placing another sloppy kiss on his boyfriend’s cheek.

“Not me,” Xander grabbed Zubin’s hand, “com’ on, I wanna ‘nother drink.” Zubin stumbled as Xander pulled him away from the wall, and both of them dissolved into fits of giggles which took them several minutes to reign themselves back from. But when they got the door of the club, the bouncer held his hand out to stop them.

“I think you’ve both had enough,” he said firmly, both of them stared at him in surprise – they’d never been barred re-entry to a club ever.

“What?” Zubin asked. “But we paid…” He wrenched his hand out of Xander’s to show the bouncer the stamp on the back of his hand.

“Even so,” he shook his head, not even looking at Zubin’s hand, “you’re not getting back in.”

“But-” Zubin started, his voice rising, but Xander grabbed him and began to pull him away.

“Come on Zu,” Xander tugged at him and he almost overbalanced. “Let’s go home…” Xander clearly thought that Zubin was clearly about to cause a scene. “We’ll get a drink there…” Zubin stared at Xander for a moment, then looked back at the bouncer and made a sucking noise with his teeth.

“Fine,” he said, attempting to flounce away, but he was unbalanced on his feet. As they walked along the street away from the nightclub Zubin’s face set in an annoyed frown.

“Don’t pout,” Xander nudged him gently, “you don’t look half as pretty as you pout.”

“Pretty?” Zubin stopped dead in his tracks and stared at Xander.

“What?” Xander exclaimed and a pink flush rose up on his pale face, matching the streak in his hair. “You are!”

“I’m not pretty!” Zubin put his hands on his hips, but his hand slipped and he had to make a second attempt. Xander tried not to laugh at how childish Zubin suddenly seemed; he sighed theatrically.

“Handsome then!” He suggested.

“That’s better!” A grin broke out on his face, and his dark eyes sparkled cheerily.

“Come on handsome,” Xander said loudly, beginning to move again. “A bottle of Jack awaits us at home!” He laughed, but Zubin didn’t move. His eyes were wide open and he seemed to be transfixed by something.

“Can you smell chips?” He asked excitedly; Xander glanced around and laughed. They’d come to a stop only a few doors down from a takeaway, and the smell was wafting out into the street – greasy and delicious.

“Yeah,” he nodded, but Zubin was now rummaging around in his pocket, checking to see if he had any spare change.

“I want chips,” he stated firmly, “with cheese – and gravy… oooh no, I want a kebab!”

“Ooh, that sounds good…” Xander agreed, his mouth watering at the suggestion. “Let’s share one!”

“Two,” Zubin protested. “I’m not having you eat all my donner meat!”

“Okay,” Xander laughed as they entered the shop.

“Could you have got them to put any more on that?!” Xander laughed, as Zubin fished a piece of donner meat slathered in chilli sauce out of his pita bread and shoved it unceremoniously in his mouth.

“I could’ve!” Zubin insisted, his mouth still full.

“You’re never gonna be able to eat all that!” Xander announced confidently.

“Watch me!” Zubin tore another strip off his pita and shoved it in his mouth.

“Oooh, how attractive,” Xander commented and Zubin nudged him playfully.

“Shut up you,” Zubin mumbled.

Twice on the journey home Zubin nearly dropped his kebab, and Xander couldn’t stop giggling as he made a dramatic catch for a piece of meat that he’d dropped. Instead of sobering them up, the night air seemed to have caused their heads to go even more fuzzy.

“Xand! Xander!” Zubin called, as Xander struggled to slot his card into the reader on his bedroom door.

Sssh…” Xander tried to quiet his boyfriend down as clearly Zubin couldn’t tell how loud he was being. “Get in!” Xander gave him a gentle shove into the room and he stumbled slightly.

“Look!” Zubin opened his mouth to reveal it was empty and waved the takeaway carton at him. “All gone!” He wobbled and sat down heavily on the edge of the bed.

“Well done you,” Xander replied sarcastically, placing his own barely touched kebab onto the desk, then slumping next to him on the bed.

“Are you not gonna eat yours?” Zubin asked, eyeing up the spare kebab that was beginning to go soggy.

“No,” Xander said, rubbing his hand across his slender midriff. “It tastes funny and it’s making me feel all bubbly.” He tried to snuggle into Zubin, feeling the muscles of his chest.

Brraaap!” Zubin let out a satisfied sounding belch. “You wan’a ‘nother drink?”

“Can we snuggle instead?” Xander asked, wrapping his arm around Zubin and giving him a gentle squeeze.

“Course!” Just f’r a lil while, then ‘nother drink…” Zubin slurred, closing his eyes and stroking Xander’s arm rather clumsily with his fingers. 

Zubin’s mouth was coated in grease, and he could feel a slick of saliva dribbling out of the side of his mouth. He was curled up against Xander’s back, both of them somehow managing to squidge onto a single bed. Zubin’s stomach was churning, like a giant whisk was being spun about inside it; and the greasy coating in his mouth tasted somewhat acidic. Zubin could hear the gentle snores coming from Xander as he tried to pull his arm out from underneath Xander’s ribcage where it was now wedged and had gone numb from the pressure. He now definitely knew what Xander had meant when he said the kebab had made him feel bubbly. Zubin new exactly what it felt like to feel ill from alcohol, and this felt nothing like it. He felt surprisingly sober, and his stomach continued to turn over rapidly inside him as he tried to take a deep breath.

“Xand – hic!” Zubin tried to rouse Xander from his sleep, but a sudden hiccup forced his stomach muscles to cramp harshly. “Xand – Uuuuurrrrrrrggghh!”
Zubin tried to slap his hand to his mouth as with a clench his entire body heaved and a flood of sick poured from his mouth, but all he managed to succeed was catching a handful of vomit while the rest cascaded down his front and splashed across Xander’s side.

“Wha-?” Xander mumbled sleepily, the sudden splash of liquid causing him to wake. Zubin let out a mortified sob that turned into another heave and another mouthful of puke gushed past his lips. “What? Zu?” Zubin felt the bed move as Xander bounded off and smacked his room light on, revealing Zubin sitting bolt upright and covered in a mess of puke. “Holy shit!”

“Sorry!” Zubin exclaimed, another retch breaking free from him.

“Shit, right!” Xander had begun to strip his soiled clothes off, leaving them in a pile on the floor, before grabbing his rubbish bin and practically throwing it at Zubin.

Buuuuuuuaaaaarrrrrrk!” Zubin hung his head over the bin as another wave of sick forced up his throat, burning the whole way up, and making his eyes water.
“Jesus Zu!” Xander had moved to the other side of the bed and rubbed his hand firmly on Zubin’s back.

“My… hurp!” He heaved wetly again. “My stomach feels all bubbly…”Zubin moaned, lifting his head away from the mess in the bucket, which could still clearly be distinguished as alcohol and partially digested kebab. “Huuueeerk!” He retched again, so loudly that Xander flinched at the sound.

“Ouch Zu,” Xander said sympathetically, patting Zubin’s arm as he hung forward over the bucket, spitting into it.

“This isn’t – urghl…” Zubin gagged again, then Xander heard him taking long slow breaths. “This isn’t the alcohol.” Zubin finally got out in a strained voice.

“I thought that kebab tasted a little funny…” Xander admitted reluctantly.

Uuurrrhhhk-kkkrrrlll!” Zubin groaned, then heaved at the thought, bringing another mouthful of sick up. “HuuuUUEEeeerrrrRRK!” The bout of sickness came on very suddenly, and Xander was slightly amazed at the volume of puke which burst from Zubin’s lips and flowed into the bin.

“Where are you getting it all from?” Xander asked incredulously.

Uuuurrrnnn… Dunno…” Zubin lamented, trying to lean his head against his boyfriend, then noticing Xander was practically naked. “You’ve got no clothes on…” Zubin stared blankly.

“Yeah, well someone barfed all over them, that’s why…” Xander joked, and Zubin snorted slightly.

“Soz,” he muttered.

“Yeah,” Xander nodded, “you will be!”

Alphabet Asks <3

I was tagged by @theunstuffedpepper, tysm!

Rules: Answer the questions in a new post and tag 10 blogs you would like to get to know better.

A- Age: 21
B- Birthplace: Southern IL
C- Current time: 7:56pm
D- Drink you had last: Coke Zero
E- Easiest person to talk to: Dustin
F- Favorite song ATM:  “Creep” cover by Haley Reinhart
G- Grossest memory: Catching my childs vomit in my hands
H- Hogwarts house:  Gryffindor 
I- In love?:  Heck to the yeahh
J- Jealous of people: Jealousy can only hold you down.
L- Love at first sight or should I walk by again:  First sight
M- Middle name: I have a very generic southern middle name
N- Number of siblings:  One brother, 3 years younger
O- One wish:  I want my son to feel content and whole within himself always.
P- Person you called last: My boss
Q- Question you are always asked: “Can I get a discount for this?” 
R- Reason to smile:  My beautiful little boy, the light of my life
T- Time you woke up: 8AM
U- Underwear color:  nA BRO
V- Vacation destination:  Honestly, I have no idea. Somewhere kid friendly, maybe Disney once Cass is old enough.
W- Worst habit: I pick my face when I’m stressed and then I cry about it
X- X Rays: My entire body has had them
Y- Your favorite food:  Any form of pasta !!
Z- Zodiac sign:  Aquarius 

If you guys haven’t already done this I’d love to see yours!   @ashleynumber3 @sillysocialisthippie @z-lifts @caffeinated-mama @myheartmysoulmysons @sithnerd @the-runningnurse @praisethegains @mr-rubberlegz @britgetsfit 



not much to say except for have a wild one out, don’t catch an STI, don’t vomit on your hair, make sure you eat lots of carbs while you drink.

And like. Thanks for existing.

This year has been good to me. Sorry I’ve been a bit MIA.

I actually kind of have you to thank.

Last year I rekindled my creepy love for you, and it kind of drove me a little mad with losing weight on the off chance I could stalk you and bed you.

That didn’t happen cause I met a nice boy IRL right before my Japan trip and well. I have it pretty fucking good now.

Losing all that weight made me so much more confident, gave me the heart to end a relationship I hadn’t been happy with for more than half a decade.

And the GazettE’s relatable af music kind of kept me sane through the tougher times the past year.

So here is to another year.

Happy birthday you glorious human.


The Signs as embarrassing Marilyn Manson events
  • Aries: Catching swine flu
  • Taurus: Vomiting on stage
  • Gemini: Better of Two evils chorus
  • Cancer: The deaf girl incident
  • Leo: Pussy Wet
  • Virgo: The Talking Dead
  • Libra: Picking a fight with MCR
  • Scorpio: Setting his drummer on fire
  • Sagittarius: Styrofoam Raps
  • Capricorn: The High End Of Low
  • Aquarius: Wes Borland going back to Limp Bizkit
  • Pisces: The Grand Slam

Found: If Its For You I Can Be A Monster Too (Vampire!AU)

Idea Inspiration: cimberelly and bunnyhips

What if Aomine keeps pushing Kise away and constantly tells the kid that he’s a monster, and that his very presence around Kise would endanger the child’s life?

Kise would mull over his words until one day he comes to the conclusion that if Aomine can’t be around him because Aomine’s a monster, then Kise would be a monster too.

Kise would rummage through dumpsters in the alleyways until he finds a dirty discarded white sheet and would cover himself in it before running in excitement to greet Aomine in his new “scary” form.

It would take awhile for Aomine to figure out what the kid is up to but when the realization hits him, it tears him up on the inside; while knowing he should stay away from Kise for the sake of the child’s own safety, every part of him so desperately wants to stay with this kid.

To protect Kise.

To watch over Kise.

To make sure Kise is never alone.

The last thing he wants to do is for Kise to experience abandonment twice.


DVL’s thanks goes out to cimberelly and bunnyhips for the awesomely adorable idea of having Kise in sheets; when you guys initially brought this up, I got the fuzzy feels and it was an idea with so much potential; I can see why its an idea close to your hearts~

And moustachiopenguin, thanks so much for your amazeballs writing on the Vampire!AU scenes - I’m reading and re-reading them again for inspiration - and your encouraging words to keep me going with this project; I don’t know what I’d do without Mo (´。・v・。`)

anon-artist Hello there Anon-I-Mous, this is “batch” sending out my thanks to you for the amazing lot of drawing help you’ve given me up til now - especially in paneling (which I am still terribad at, by the way) AND for catching all my angst-vomiting during my artist block moments and please post your art my gawd I love your stuff and think it should be shared, thank you very much. I’m awaiting another “yew batch” message after this post. If you see this, text me maybe~

Reaction to your child feeling ill (ot13)

{This was too cute to write JJEJENDJFIE. Also,there is some vomit mentioned so.. not really graphic tbh}


You two were chilling and watching some romantic comedy (Well he wanted to watch it) when your kid came up. “Daddy I don’t feel too well.” He/she said, rubbing their tummy a bit. You were kinda jealous that he went to Coups first, but you got over it once you saw how he instantly started asking questions and pulling out medicines, handling it waaaay better than you would’ve. That day, your kid went to bed feeling 10x better :)


You went to the carnival with him and your kid, seeking some thrill, After they rode a roller coaster for the 15 hundredth time, your child started to get a little green in the face. Before the kid could even gag, Jeonghan had noticed and grabbed a cup to catch the vomit. “I’m fucking amazing” *remembers there’s a kid around* “Don’t tell mom i said that.


Your small family had just finished a small picnic in the park and Josh started playing guitar. Your child started to sneeze and rub their eyes (allergies) to which Joshua seemed to take no notice to at first. But later on he stopped his strumming and (magically) pulled out a small packet of Kleenex tissues. He started strumming again, stopping only to boop the child on the nose and singing “Please don’t forget to wipe your nose.”


What with winter coming up quickly, Jun wasn’t at all surprised when your child fell ill with a cold. What he didn’t expect though, was to be babysitting while you were at work. At first he seemed scared to somehow make the cold even worse, but when you returned, you found out that he’d googled “how to get over cold quickly” and used the (strangely effective) remedies.


The kid came up to you, “Mommy, I have a tummy ache.” You panicked as soon as you realized that there wasn’t anymore pain reliever for the poor thing. You asked him to get some, but then decided to switch roles because you realized he had NO idea what type of medicine to buy. He made the ache go away by the time you came back, and when you asked why, he replied “Laughter is the best medicine.”


You were at work when the call came from school that your kid had just puked all over the place. You asked Wonwoo to retrieve them and bring care for them, hoping he’d be fine alone. You came back to see the child sitting on his father’s lap, listening intently as he read a passage from “The Chronicles of Narnia”


Your poor child had been feeling light headed for a while now. You still had to go to work (cause life and shit fucking sucks) so you left Jihoon in charge. 

-”dad I feel kind of woozy.”

-”hehe my nickname is Woozi”

In the end, the smol babies sat together while Jihoon composed a get better song for him/her. (Which was straight fire, betta believe) 


You would admit that it may have been stupid to leave your child with his very squeamish father. You come home to find out that at the slightest sign of vomit, Seokmin would scream his ass off and get really sHoOk ™… which your child found extremely hilarious so they started fake gagging on purpose.


This boi has so much experience in being sick oml. He was all about making sure they didn’t spread any germs. 

-”Lol Mingyu, you should take your own tips and not wipe your nasty sneeze hands on people”

-”Y/N,,,,,, show me where I asked.”

He was so amazing though omg. You couldn’t even understand how he got so sick and nasty often with nursing skillzzz like those.


You could’ve killed him omg

-”Hao! I told you the dance studio is cold, why didn’t you make him/her dress warmer!”

Smol bean was so sorry. He volunteered to help nurse the sneezy child. 

-”Did you just sneeze on me omg. Look Y/N, he/she’s gonna grow up to be gross just like Uncle Mingyu.”

-”Stop bullying our child why-”

The kid was just really okay with it tbh. They really enjoyed their dad’s company (mostly because of the funny aegyo he did)


You could tell that he had no idea what to do.The kid had just gotten their tonsils taken out and their throat was REAAAALLLLY sore.

-”Hey maybe singing will make you feel better.”

-”Are you stupid, his/hers throat is sore and you want them to hit those high notes?”


He ended up realized it was kinda dumb, but he sung songs for the kid nonetheless, filling the room with his amazing voice.



-”Lol how can I help.”

Letting him help was the dumbest decision made in a long time. He could barely work a syringe correctly, it was ridiculous.

-“Hey, Y/N? How do you make the medicine come out?”

-*pushes squirty thingy*

-”Oh nvm, but how do you get cherry cough medicine stains out.”

He was really only there because the kid enjoyed his company


*is a minor*

Follow Focus: Puppet War


Lucy was absolutely horrified when she made it to Fairy Tail in the morning.  Last night she had left Natsu in the sculpture studio, buried elbow deep in a rubber mold and a dismissive grunt which showed how focused he was on his task.

Now when she returned there was an art war breaking out straight across the entire art residency hall.

“JUVIA IS NOT A PUDDLE!” The ceramics major shrieked, throwing a ball of clay at Gajeel, who narrowly avoided getting up close and personal with the sticky terricotta.

“BRING IT ON MUDSLINGERS, YOU AIN’T GOT NOTHIN’ ON SCULPTURE!” Natsu roared back challengingly, a crazed smile on his sleep deprived face.

Oh no.

Just what the hell happened in the time it took for her to go home, sleep, and take a shower. Whatever happened, it somehow sparked an interdisciplinary battle stretching from the bowels of sculpture up to the pristine rows of Graphic Designers.

She looked over at the sand pit and saw a familiar hand struggling underneath a mound of sand. 


On top of her stood three kittens, who were using the sandpit as a comfortable nest, effectively trapping the photographer underneath.

Oh no. What had these idiots done?!

She rushed over to help her friend, dodging chunks of clay and wadded up paper.  She spun to avoid Erza, who was hurtling towards them at mach speed with a palette strapped to her chest like a breast plate.

At the woman’s approach to try and cause order in the panic, it just caused the Sculptors to scatter in terror and regroup, Natsu and Gray’s screaming the loudest.

Just when Lucy managed to shoo the cats off Levy and pull her free from her sandy prison, she was certain the entire building was going to go up in flames at this rate.

Luckily, someone else thought the same.

“THAT’S ENOUGH YOU BRATS!” Roared a voice Lucy had only heard a handful of times.

There, standing at the doorway of the studio was the diminutive man who owned the building.  Makarov Dreyer.

Immediately, all flailing ceased in an instant.

The man, despite his miniature size, seemed to tower over them all.

“You all break out in a fight between disciplines at least once every two months, and that is unacceptable,” Makarov rumbled, “What sparked it this time? Did sculpture swipe a heat gun from Ceramics? Did Drawing use all the guache from painting? Or perhaps did Printmaking take the emulsion from Photography?” 

The artists all quieted down like scolded children, even Natsu, who was still in one of Erza’s headlocks.

“That is not what Fairy Tail is about,” Makarov rumbled, his voice a thundercloud giving way to a storm, “So I’m putting a stop to it. Here and now.”

“As of now, we will be starting an Interdisciplinary Challenge! Once a month, you will partner up with someone for the entire year to collaborate on an art piece!” Makarov ordered, “One 3D Artist for every 2D artist!”

“Choose wisely! You will be with that person for the rest of the year!”

Before Lucy realized it, Natsu’s gaze had zeroed in on her. His eyes, still sharp despite his sleep deprivation, glinted in amusement. He slid out from under Erza’s arm in a second and he flung his arm around Lucy’s shoulder.

“No sweat gramps! Got my partner right here, and we’re going to crush the competition!” Natsu grinned with vicious pride.

“Wait– me– wha?” Lucy stammered as she was pulled firmly against Natsu’s side. A flush worked over her cheeks as she wiggled against him, but his grip only seemed to tighten on her.

“Well I certainly hope so,” Makarov said in amusement to Natsu’s boasts, “Because the team with the poorest design…”

His eyes glinted, “Punishment Game.”

Lucy swore the temperature in the residency plummeted. Even Natsu looked terrified.

“Your challenge is to create a puppet using only supplies found in your local hardware store,” Makarov shouted, the air growing tense. Lucy felt Natsu’s body shift next to her and his arm shift down around her waist. 

Wait was he getting ready to run?

Lucy found out a second later when Makarov raised his hand.

“You have fifty dollars and 48 hours!” He shouted, “GO!”

The ground disappeared under Lucy’s face as Natsu hefted her over his shoulder like she was a sack of flour. He sprinted with her over her shoulder, causing her to lose all the air in her lungs, and she barely managed to catch sight of Levy flailing over Gajeel.

Was this a thing?!

“Natsu let me go!” Lucy wheezed, her hands grabbing a handful of the back of his shirt as she was bounced around on his shoulder. Where did he have this kind of energy to just lift her up and haul her around like this?

“Sorry Lucy! No can do! We gotta get to my truck before Gajeel can!” Natsu’s breath came out a bit labored as he pivoted and jumped over obstacles in an impressive display of athleticism. Especially considering he hadn’t slept at all the night before. 

“Why does it matter!” Lucy shouted, “Why can’t we take my car? There is plenty of room!”

She discovered the answer for herself soon enough when they made it outside the residency hall just in time to see a cackling Gajeel drive off in a rusty red truck.

Natsu swore, and set Lucy down a second later. He panted, supporting himself on his knees and glaring at the smoke trail Gajeel left behind. 

“I never should have let that bastard have the keys,” He grumbled.

Lucy rubbed her sore stomach and smacked Natsu’s shoulder in irritation, “A little warning would have been nice!”

It soon became clear just why he wanted to drive when she finally managed to wrestle Natsu into her car. Because for whatever reason, he resisted the idea with such painful whining, she thought she was causing him legitimate agony.

Turns out, the Salamander of Fairy Tail had terrible motion sickness when he couldn’t drive.

A family trait as it turned out, because Gajeel was the same way. Halfway through the ride he stripped out of his outer layer to leave himself in his tank top. He set it on his lap.

To catch the vomit he said.

Lucy hoped it wouldn’t come to that.

So it was with great comfort when they pulled up to the local hardware store and color began to return to his face.

It was like new life pounded back into his body. The enthusiasm in which he dragged Lucy through the hardware store was almost contagious. Lucy didn’t even complain when Natsu convinced her to sit in the cart to speed things along.

At least she hadn’t complained until he started to drive the damn thing, scooting it along aisles at such high speeds she was certain they were going to crash into a fixture.

He twisted the cart through a maze he seemed to know well.

“Come on Lucy! Grab what you want!” He called out, a wide grin on his face and his fist punching the air in front of him, “We ATTACK!”

“Natsu slow down!” Lucy shrieked, but was somehow caught up in his shenanigans as she broke out into laughter a moment later. 

It turned out that shopping with Natsu was not as painful as an ordeal as she thought. Although she was certain that at any moment they were going to be kicked from the store. They had fun though, scooting along the aisles and planning the supplies they needed for under fifty dollars. 

By the time they returned to the studio, they had somehow managed to burn away a good chunk of their day. So Natsu got to work bending the aluminum wire they purchased to create a strong armature. 

“It’ll have to be tack welded for security, but I can do that in a minute,” Natsu said busily, his hands twisting wire and shaping the body of the puppet with expertise. 

Lucy was almost in awe over how quickly the shape began to form right before her eyes.

“Or I could do it?” Lucy asked. 

Natsu’s attention lifted from the wire and his eyes glittered behind his goggles, considering her question.

“You want to learn how to weld?” He asked her, an eyebrow raising behind the glass of his goggles. 

Shifting under the intensity of his gaze, she nodded.

“I mean I know it’s probably stupid of me. But Mr. Dreyer said it was a collaboration, and if I learn your skill, maybe you can learn some of mine in this project?” Lucy rushed out at once, “Since isn’t the goal to work together and become interdisciplinary artists?”

“It isn’t really a collaboration if I watch you do all the work,” She eyed him, suddenly feeling both shy and exposed for the simple question she posed between them.

Natsu was still staring at her as if she had grown a second head, and Lucy was beginning to think perhaps suggesting anything at all had been a bad idea. 

“You’re gonna suck, that’s for sure,” Natsu replied with a grin.

“But lets do it!” Natsu continued before he could completely crush Lucy’s hopes, “You won’t get good at it until you practice. So lets try it out!”

He pulled Lucy over towards him where he was standing behind the forming armature. Positioning her between himself and the frame, Lucy almost jumped out of her skin when she felt Natsu’s arms circle around her.

His chin lifted somewhere over her shoulder, and she watched him lift a hand to his mouth, sharp teeth catching a his leather gloves and tugging them free. Lucy watched the motion with fascination and she swayed forward on the balls of her feet, cheek bumping against Natsu’s.

Her heart skipped a beat in her chest.

How silly was this, freaking out like a school girl over some proximity to an attractive man? 

Snapping out of it when Natsu’s warm hands clasped over hers, leathers dropping into her palms as gruff fingertips caressed the tops of her hands. Natsu’s hands were roughened and strong from hard labor. She could feel the power behind them, capable of bending steel and coaxing fire to his whims,

Sliding the gloves on, Lucy tried to concentrate on Natsu’s instructions. He would be guiding her through the process. Welding was dangerous, and he wasn’t going to throw her into it without any training.

Still, it was frustratingly distracting to her when Natsu started up the TIG torch and kevlar coated hands began to lead her through the steps. He told her about the electrode, the head required to melt the small point of connection between the thin wire. Telling when aluminum was hot was the hardest part Lucy found, because it didn’t change colors.

After a while when Natsu had determined she had a handle on it, he left her to do it by herself, his hands skating away so he could inventory the rest of their supplies.

So by the time she was done, welding goggles pushed up on her face, a tangle of twisted metal and ugly welds was what they had to show for it. 

Guilt warred through her at the sight of the tangled mess of the armature she had made. It seemed like somewhere along the way, she hadn’t moved fast enough with her welds, and the distribution of heat had caused the metal to warp. It was something Natsu had warned her about, but to see that her negligence had turned their project into a coiled lump of metal…

…She felt terrible.

Natsu inspected the piece with dark eyes and curiosity, his arms crossed over a broad chest and his hand cupping his chin as he probably contemplated the horrible mess his partner had created.  No doubt, the Salamander was regretting his decision in picking Lucy for the challenges.

“Natsu, I’m sorr–” she tried, but her apology went ignored.

“It looks like a dragon!” Natsu said loudly in excitement, talking over her apology before she could finish. 

Lucy almost reeled back under the force of the wide grin he flashed in her direction. She would be lying if her guilt didn’t lesson under the force of that charming smile.

Her heart skipped a beat.

“Great job Lucy,” Natsu’s dark eyes glittered as he tugged at some loose wires and clipped them off, “TIG welding is really hard! You made something awesome though, that’s incredible!”

Lucy blinked at the sketch of their original design, completely different from what they had ended up with.

“But… It doesn’t look like anything we planned for?” Lucy looked at their limited materials and then back at their misshapen armature.  She supposed it looked a little like a dragon, although she wondered where Natsu saw it, “We’re not going to have enough materials to make this work.”

Natsu didn’t seem bothered by this. His smile only seemed to grow, his hand lifting through the air to encourage a high five from her. Confused, Lucy slapped her palm against his, the clap from their joined hands ringing through the studio.

“We’ll improvise,” Natsu’s grin went even wider, “I like this idea better anyway.”

He punched his fists through the air, raising both arms over his head.

“Alright! I’m all fired up now!”

Lucy couldn’t help but smile at him, something about his happy mood catching onto her. His optimism sank into her, warming her from the inside out.

“Alright! Lets do this!”

Special thanks to lonestorm for helping me come up with the puppet war. Hahaha. It was sparked from a fit I had at work a while ago. Hahahaha. Also please excuse the shitastic drawings. I wasn’t feeling well, so at one point they just became scribbles basically.



I was wondering if you could do a comfort imagine for me? Either mgg or spence, romantic or platonic aswell, is fine. Where reader is suffering from anorexia w/ a binge purge subtype and mgg/spence finds out when either she faints due to malnutrition, or he catches her purposely vomiting and helps her get treatment and is very supportive of her. thank you

Oh my word, I can most certainly do this.  Here is your one-shot, comin’ ‘atcha.

Flushing the toilet as you sit down onto the bathroom floor, you hold your head in your hands as your tongue hangs out of your mouth.

Curse these surprise BAU birthday parties.

You hated cake.  Cake and pizza and soda.  You hated that combination.

It never tasted good coming back up.

Standing to your feet, you feel your legs begin to wobble as you catch yourself on the bathroom stall door, your hands meandering slowly to open it towards you as you balance yourself enough to get to the sink and splash some water in your face.

Sighing as you look at your paling face, you grab a bunch of paper towels out of the dispenser as you blot at your face, trying desperately to swallow the stink in your mouth as you begin to prep your hair carefully.

Everything had to be in its exact spot.

Twenty minutes later and a couple of check-ins from the girls, you plaster on your best smile as you walk out, only to be met with Spencer, a plate in his hand with a slice of cheese pizza on top.

Looking down at the pizza before grazing your eyes up to his, he smiles lightly as he holds it out towards you, the heat from the slice radiating over to your body as your legs begin to tremble.

It smelled disgusting.

“I uh…I saved you a piece,” he says, trying your best not to grimace as you smile and take it from him.

“Thank you so much, Reid,” you coo, “that’s really kind of you.”

And then he just continued to stand there.

“Everything alright…?” you trail off, holding the paper plate in both of your hands as you look down at your feet.

“Yeah!  Yeah…e-…everything’s alright,” he says, shuffling from foot to foot.

“Well, I kinda need to get past you,” you snicker, pointing with your free finger past him as his face sinks slightly.

“Oh.  Yeah yeah, I’m sorry.  Here,” he says, stepping to the side as you cock an eyebrow at him.

“Thanks…” you trail off once again, brushing past him as your skirt flutters up against your legs, your flats clinking against the floor as you make your way around the corner.

And just as the trash can comes into view, you reach your arm out and drop the plate of food into it, scurrying back down the hallway to the bullpen as Spencer steps around the corner, catching you without your plate as his face crinkles in confusion, his eyes slowly traveling to the trashcan as steam slowly begins to rise from the top.


“Happy birthday again, Rossi!” you call, raising your hand above your head as you wave to him, your back about to plow through the glass doors of the BAU as you ready yourself to go home and soak in a hot bath whilst sipping on some seltzer water.

“Grazi, mia bella!” he calls back, throwing you a kiss with both of his hands as you shake your head and push your hip through the door, making your way for the elevator doors.

But just as you whip your head around, you see the room begin to tilt, the doors in front of you spinning on end as you feel your bag slowly drop to the floor.

“Y/N…?” Spencer calls out, seeing you from the kitchenette as he sets his coffee mug on the counter.

Teetering, you try to step towards the elevator button, taking in a deep breath through your nose as you try to steady yourself.

But all you saw was the elevator door button grow incredibly close before you hear someone yell out your name.


Soon, your head was throbbing and your face was up against the wall, your body sunken down to your knees as you feel someone wrap their arms around you, a gasp leaving their lips as they flop you over as your eyes go cross-eyed.

“Y/N?” someone gasps, their fingers trailing up your shirt as they finger the outline of your rib-cage.

“Oh my god,” you hear someone comment.

“Yes, I need an ambulance at the BAU headquarters,” you hear someone else say.

“Y/N?  Can you hear me?” someone yells.

But you couldn’t discern who was asking what.

You couldn’t figure out who was touching you.

You couldn’t figure out who’s tears were dripping down your cheek.

“She’s crying…that-…that’s good, right?” someone asks.


You were crying?

“Y/N,” you hear someone whisper next to your ear, your body slowly lobbing up as you feel someone press their chest to your back.

“It’s alright…I-…I’m right here,” the same voice croaks out, wrapping their arms around your concaved stomach.

“I’m right here,” they breathe.

Their breath was hot on your neck.

“Ambulance is on their way,” Hotch says.


“Y/N.  Yes.  Yes…I’m right here,” he says, crouching down into your gaze as he takes your limp hand within his, “can you hear me?”


“Spencer’s right behind you,” Hotch says, your vision blurring as you lob your head over, your forehead crashing into a patch of soft skin as tears begin to pour down your face again.


“Ssssh sh sh sh sh sh,” he coos, the team gathered around you as the elevator doors ding, the paramedics wheeling through as they begin to peel everyone from you.

“So soh-…” you try to breathe, your body trembling as your eyes lob themselves closed.

And that was the last thing you remember.


The rhythmic beeping of monitors off in the distance slowly grounded you back into the present-day as you feel a bit of pressure centralized in the middle of your torso.

Groaning, you crinkle your face as you hear people begin to scurry around you, your hands trying to reach out for something…anything…familiar as you feel someone wrap their long, lanky fingers around yours.

“Just a little bit longer,” you hear Spencer breathe.

A little bit longer for what?

“Almost done with this syringe,” you hear someone murmur.


Your eyes hurt so much.

Feeling something slide from your stomach, you feel your good eye slowly peel open as you see a thin plastic tube rise up in the air as your eyes travel to your body.

And that’s when you see it.

The opening.

In your head, you were screaming.  You were cussing and fighting, bucking and slandering, yelling at the nurse to tell you what happened and demanding to know how many calories were in the white goop they were injecting directly into your stomach.  In your mind, you were flailing and sobbing and losing control.

But on the outside, your eyes were wide and your breath was held as your hands slip from Spencer’s and slowly trail down your skin as the pads of your fingertips slowly walk themselves towards the tubing jutting out from a tiny hole in your stomach.

You had heard stories.  Horror stories…about what hospitals would do when people with eating disorders came through their doors.

But they were from people who were worse off than you.

People who were emaciated.

People they couldn’t trust…

“Y/N…” Spencer trails off, trying to get your attention as your widened eyes stay connected with your stomach.

“Y/N…can-…can you…?”

But all you could do was trail your good eye up to him, your glowing Y/C/E orb pleading with him as to what happened.  Begging him for the reason why he didn’t intervene.  Clawing for a reason as to why he stood by and let them do this to you.

“Ma’am?” the nurse with the syringe says.

Slowly lobbing your shocked gaze to the large nurse in her pastel-colored scrubs, you feel your jaw clench down tight as she cocks her head in sympathy at you.

“Do you know where you are?” she asks coolly.

Ignoring her question, your eyes slowly travel around the room, taking in the shocked and worried and teary-eyed gazes of your team as your eyes finally land on Rossi, his stands crooked as he stands off in the corner, his eyes glued to you as he crosses his arms around his chest.

You had ruined his birthday.

“I’m sorry, David…” you finally breathe, your tears welling in your eyes again as his face softens and he drops his arms.

“You didn’t ruin my birthday,” he croaks out, his voice gravelly as he clears his throat.

Seeing the plastic tip come back into your view, you wrench your head over as you jump your body to the side, feeling Spencer’s hands wrap around your arm as you whip your head over to him, your eye wide and pleading for him to stop.

“It’s only 200 more calories,” he whispers, his eyes glistening with tears, reflecting your emaciated body back at you as your eyes widen in horror.

How in the world did you allow yourself to get here?

Feeling his grip loosen on your skin, you feel the pressure as the syringe sinks back into the connector, your stomach visibly rising as the white goop that held what nutritional need your frail body could handle as your fearful and tired gaze holds Spencer’s eyes.

“I’m right here,” he whispers, bringing your hand to his cheek as you cup his face with your palm.

“I’m so sorry, Spencer,” you choke out, tears streaming down your face as he shakes his head into your hand.

“We’re gonna get you better, alright?  Whatever it takes,” he breathes, his chest fluttering with sobs as he bites down on his lower lip, desperately trying to keep his composure as you hear Rossi slowly ushering the rest of the team out of the room.

“H-how…how long?” you ask him, gulping hard as your eyes stay connected to his.

“They say until they can get you to healthily consume 1100 calories at a time.  Then…then it’s a matter of finding someone you can talk to.  Someone who will support you and help you and be there for you when you struggle.”

“But…but the team…they-”

“Are here every step of the way,” Hotch says as the two of you whip your gazes over to him.

“For now,” he begins as he steps in, sitting on the edge of your bed as his hand rests on your foot, “you’re on medical leave.  Three weeks before you are due to return, but you will be staying behind with Garcia for most of the cases.”


“No fights.  No apologies,” he says, rubbing his hand up and down the top of your foot as you close your eyes, “but you need to by physically capable again before I can allow you into the field.  You could jeopardize the team, or worse…yourself.”

“Or worse,” you snicker sarcastically, shaking your head as you lean it back into the pillow of your hospital bed.

“Yes.  Or worse.  You’re important to us, Y/N,” Hotch says sternly, “and I won’t do anything that blatantly puts you or my team at risk.”

“Like Spencer and his Dilaudid?” you spit, earning silence from the both of them as you sigh heavily, turning your head towards the window as you look out blankly at the turning world beyond the glass.

Peeling your hands from Spencer as your frail body curls up into a ball, you continue to stare out the window as you hear the two men pad to the doorway just before they begin murmuring.

“She can’t be in the field, Reid,” Hotch says.

“I know.  She’s angry, and she’s embarrassed.  This…it makes her feel weak and…and out of control,” Spencer says brokenly.

“You’re the only one who even remotely understands…” Hotch trails off.

And as Spencer turns his head back to you, your shoulders rising and falling as your breathing begins to even out, he swallows hard as he turns his head back to his boss.

“It’s why I’m not abandoning her.  I…I-I-I…I can’t,” he admits, “I needed someone, but I was too…I don’t know…too proud to reach out for help.  She’s been forcefully exposed, and to leave her would be to reinforce what’s already going through her mind.”

“That she’s not important?” Hotch questions, his brow furrowing tighter as he crosses his arms over his chest.

“No,” Spencer says as he shakes his head, “that she’s weak.  Me leaving would be a slap in the face to her recovery.  It would be the equivalent of me saying-”

“’I don’t think you can do it, so what’s the point?’” Hotch finishes.

“Exactly,” Spencer nods.

“Alright,” Hotch sighs as he runs his fingers through his hair, “then I’ll put in the paperwork.  But you look out for her, alright?”

“Already on it,” Spencer says, his eyes glued back to your body as you groan and shift in bed.

“Already on it,” he whispers to himself.

anonymous asked:

Thank you to the dad who realized his son was about to vomit so he quickly put his empty soda cup over his mouth to catch it. First time vomit didn't end up on the food tables!

anonymous asked:

hmmmm what if you wrote a follow up to your sickfic where sebby gets sick and still shows up to work but joseph catches him vomiting in the bathroom between looking at case files and takes him home to take care of him? <3

Hey there Anon! I really wanted to do this one because I admit it- I am 100% weak to sickfic and h/c. It is Super Effective against my soul.

I hope you like it! I’m trying to make sure I can do something for all the requests I’ve gotten.

Anycase, MOAR sickfic, this time featuring Seb being a sick, stubborn jerk.

Take Me Home Tonight


Warnings for: Vomit, Depictions of Vomiting/Illness


Joseph’s voice had come more quiet and uncertain than he would have liked; he’d been going for stern. Sebastian looked genuinely infuriated for a moment and Joseph flinched. He really should have braced himself for the worst, after all.

Keep reading

Night Changes - music video review

The idea of the video was unique and awesome as it gives us Directioners who are not fortunate enough to go on a date with any of the members from One Direction an experience of what it would be like.

I mean fuck 1DreamBoy, I got the real life versions of the Boys and I don’t have to answer weird ass questions about them just to get them to go on a date with me.

Although I thoroughly enjoyed the video, I just hope that I won’t be so incompetent if it were to happen.

This here is not acceptable.

A guy just storms in yelling at Zayn and I then he has the nerve to dump Zayn’s dinner on him. Like no, I would not just sit there and then simply leave - like no, shit will go down. let’s just say that he really chose the wrong day to wear that chain around his neck and he interrupted the wrong date.

Just imagine, how much effort Zayn put into this date and some bloke just storms in like he caught his dick stuck in his zipper.

If Harry fell, I’d dive under him just so that no ice even cuts him - let alone break or fracture his arm. And if he broke his arm like that I’d limp over to him on my fractured foot and kiss his arm countless of times and then go kick Elsa’s ass for freezing Arendelle. I guess I just need to let it go… Maybe next time Harry and I should go build a snowman.

I’d be more than happy to give Liam my hat to throw up in. It’s only fair: he gives me his scarf, I give him my hat. In fact, I’d be so mother fucking proud of that hat you don’t even know. That hat would go places; that hat would be sold on ebay for much more than it was worth. What a lucky hat!

If I chose not to wear a hat, which I wouldn’t as I don’t have hats similar to that, then I’d catch his vomit in my bare hands - judge me but it’s just food right? 

I’d rub his back, take him home, get him some water, I’d even kiss him - vomit or not if you get a chance to kiss the ‘Payne train' you seize the opportunity my friends.

If Louis got pulled over for speeding or not having his seatbelt on or some other reason, I’d come up with some kick-ass excuse (probably not since I suck at lying) and if that fails then I’d get arrested with him. I mean, what a perfect fan-fiction plot! ’Trenchcoat Trouble' or ’50 bars of Tomlinson’, just wait it’ll be the next Dark/Psychotic/After.

If Niall ever caught on fire like that, I’d leap over the table and slap that bitch-fire to sleep because baby, I’m fireproof. And who the fuck would care if he spilled a bit of drink on you? This boy just played monopoly with you, made you dinner, played the guitar and seduced the fuck out of you - I think it’s fair to say that you were thirsty as fuck and he wanted to help quench your thirst.

Overall, this was the best dates I’ve ever been to. The Boys were just so gentlemanly: Harry got me those skates and even *sob* tied my laces for me. Bless this angel’s soul!

So irresistible… It should be illegal for Zayn to be that sexy and NO, NO SIPPING WINE AND STARE AT ME WITH THOSE TWINKLING BROWN EYES MISTER!

So ASDFGHJKL… I know it’s old-fashioned to fangirl like that but when Louis stared at me through the rear-view mirror I just ASDFGHJKL all the way back to carrot land.

So sweet… Literally, when Liam handed me that caramel apple I just melted and I didn’t even have to ask for his scarf, he’s just amazing like that.

So heart-felt… Niall’s date was not extravagant or active but it was obvious that it came from the heart which touches me on so many levels like I don’t need a shopping trip in Paris or sip coconuts in the Caribbean just spending quality time with him, hearing about his day, listening to the sweet sound of his laughter would be more than enough.

Sorry for this long post but it was a must.

Gone - Requested (Michael)

Requested by anon: You are feeling really shit about your self and down and you sneak out and get super drunk out at a club and accept some random drug from a random guy. When mickey wakes up and your not there (4am) the boys go looking for you and tweet asking if anyone has seen you (people know who you are cos you’ve been mickeys gf for a yr) someone tweets in and helps out. They take you home and care for your drunk drugges ass and question you about why you would do that. (Sorry that its sad, but please :D )


You pull yourself up in bed so you are sitting. You look to your left, Michael is sleeping next to you. His soft breathing breaking the silence in the room. You get out of bed and sneak to the bathroom. You turn on the light and take a look in the mirror. You look dull, your eyes are standing blank. You have been feeling down for days now, you don’t know what it is but you can’t shake the feeling off. You put on your jeans and a top from Michael. You take out your make-up and put some on your face. You turn off the light and softly walk downstairs. Before you step out of the door you grab a hoodie from the coat rack. As the cold air hits your bare arms, you quickly pull the hoodie over your head, Ashton’s sent filling your noise. You walk and walk until you end up in town. You can feel the shivers over your body, so you decide to go in into the first club you see. You walk straight to the bar to fill your body with alcohol. After a couple of drinks you can feel yourself becoming light, your worries drift away and your mind becomes empty. You keep on drinking until all your feelings are numb. You dance through the club until you hit somebody.

“Sorry”, you say, your tongue thick from the liquor.

“No worries. Hey I’m Hugh”


“Nice to meet you (Y/N). What is a pretty girl like you drinking alone”, he nods towards the drink in your hands.

“I had to clear my mind”

“Hard times?” you nod yes a little. “I can help you with that”, he takes his hand in his pocket and then hovers it over your drink. You see something fall in the fluid.

“What is that?”

“Just something that will help you feel free”, you look at your drink and back up to him. “This one is on the house, find me if you want more”

He smiles at you, turns around and walks away. Drugs is all you can think. You look at your drink: drugs he just gave me drugs. You take a deep breath and gulp your drink empty.


“Guys!” Michael’s voices carrying throw the entire house. “Wake up!”

“What’s wrong?” Ashton asks sleepy. He is now standing with Michael in the hallway. Luke and Calum also coming out of their rooms.

“Fuck Michael, this better be worth it” Luke growls.

“She’s gone. (Y/N) is gone”

“What do you mean gone?” Ashton frowns.

“I can’t find her, I’ve searched the entire house”, panic clearly hearable in Michael’s voice. 

“Did you look under your bed?” Calum jokes.

Michael’s eyes flash to Calum: “Listen Hood, she’s not here and I don’t know where she is. I’ve called but she doesn’t pick up. I don’t know what I need to do. This is not a time or place for a girl to be alone at.”

“Just get dressed and we’ll go out and look”, Ashton turns around to go to his room.

“We’re not gonna find her just by driving around, it’s a big town”

“Cal is right, we need to make a plan”, Luke says.

“We don’t have time to make a plan. I need to find her now. I’m losing my mind!”, Michael paces, “Twitter. I’ll put it on twitter. There needs to be someone who has seen her.” He takes out his phone.

“What do we do in the mean time?” Ashton looks at the others.

“Wait I guess”, Luke rests his body against the wall.

“Not necessary, she has been seen in a club”, Michael waves his phone. “Let’s go!” Michael is already running down the stairs.

“Mike! Stop! I’m driving!” Ashton yells.


Everything around you has disappeared. Everything is in a haze, the music has taking over your body. All you can hear is the beat in your ears, all you can see are the moving lights, all you can feel is the music taking over your body.

Suddenly you feel a hand grab your left upper arm, then another hand wraps around your right wrist. You’re getting pulled forward, stumbling over your feet. You snap out of your trance, looking around but you don’t get what is going on. You remain quiet and calm, the drugs are clearly still in your system. The cold air hits you in the face, your eyes fall on the person standing on your left. “Mickey!” you say cheerfully. Michaels eyes are piercing in yours, his hair brighter than ever.

“Get her in the car”, Michael pulls you towards the car. You look at your right seeing Calum pulling on you as well.

“Cal Cal!” you smile at Calum, but he doesn’t smile back. You feel a pair of hands on your back pushing you in the car. The car ride is silent, you look to your left, Michael looking out of the window. You then look to your right, Calum looking on his phone, not giving you a look. Luke sitting in the front, looking straight ahead. Ashton is driving your eyes cross a couple of times as he looks in the rearview mirror. But nobody speaks. When you get home, they pull you out of the car and in the house, pushing you down on the couch.

“Why the hell did you leave?” Michael is standing in front of you, eyes on anger, arms crossed over his chest.

“Mickey,” you pout, “Can we do this another time? I don’t feel so good”

“No, you have no idea how worried I was!”

“Mike, I’m getting a headache”

“Just tell me!”

“Michael stop yelling”, you put your head in your hands.

“(Y/N), talk to me”, he begs kneeling down. He rests his hand on your knees.

You look at him, your eyes exploring his face. “When did you color your hair? It look so damn bright”, you take your hand through his hair. “It is so soft. It feels like clouds”

He locks his eyes with yours: “What did you take?”


“You are lying. Look at her eyes”, he looks at the boys. They all come closer and look at you.

“Pupils are defiantly big, why big. I’m getting her water”, Ashton rushes off to the kitchen.

“What did you take?”

“I don’t know. Just a pill a guy give me”

“You took drugs form a random guy?! Are you fucking insane?!”

“Michael, don’t yell”

“Why? Why would you do that? That’s fucking dumb!”

“I don’t know, I wasn’t feeling well. I haven’t been feeling good for a while now”, Ashton sits down next to you and hands you a glass. You take a sip.

“Babe, I didn’t know that”

“I’m gonna puke”, Luke runs off and quickly come back with a bucket. You put it between your legs, ready to catch your vomit.

“Babe, talk to me. I woke up and you were gone, I was so fucking worried”

“I’m just feeling down. I’m just feeling so bad about myself. I couldn’t sleep so I went out and now I’m feeling even worse”

“Why didn’t you tell me that? Tell us”

“I don’t know, I didn’t want to bother you with my shitty feelings”

“You need to bother me”

“You’re sweet”

“I mean it. Why are you feeling so shitty?”

“The pressure. I know I need to be glad with my life, with you and you guys and just everything that I get to do. But it get so much some times and I don’t want to be ungrateful.  But all the attention, everybody’s eyes on me, all those opinions and hate. Not one moment just for me, there is always somebody watching. And lately I had a hard time coping with it”

“You need to tell me when you are feeling like that, we can help. I love you (Y/N). Don’t ever disappear like that anymore, I don’t ever want to feel like that anymore. It felt like I lost you”

“I won’t, I’m sorry”, you give Michael a kiss on his forehead and you look at the boys with an apologizing look in your eyes.

“Come on let’s get you sober”, Ashton hands you an aspirin.

“I’m getting the blankets”, Calum runs up the stairs.

“What are you doing?” you look at the rest for answers.

“You are going to sleep and we are not leaving you alone”, Michael lays down on the sofa and pulls you down so you are lying in his arms. You look the guys lay down in the living room while Michael strokes your hair. You softly drift away, listening to the guys talk, feeling safe and comforted.