ground sleeves

Condemning hate isn’t enough. That’s the bare minimum. There’s also solidarity. Compassion. Calling out. Standing with. Fighting for. Ground level work. Sleeves up. In the dirt. There’s the difficult brutal unpopular risk of getting on the right side of history. In the home. Out there. Over fences, across oceans. Side by side when it isn’t pretty, when no one’s looking, when everyone is, when the wounded lean heavily on our shoulders, when no one cares. That’s the stuff that changes where we’re going.

Eleanor of Aquitaine: a fashion icon of her days

Eleanor of Aquitaine enjoyed dressing elegantly in fine clothes, often of silk embroidered in gold or silver thread, and she became a fashion icon in the Medieval Europe

Having grown up at the splendid and majestic court of Aquitaine, Eleanor always loved luxurious and exquisite jewelry, and her collection of pieces of jewelry, including massive necklaces and jewelled circlets to hold in place veils that all married women wore in the 12th century.

Bernard of Clairvaux, a French abbot, harshly criticized Eleanor’s dresses and manners when she was the Queen of France. We have a detailed description of one of Eleanor’s dresses she wore in the period.

Bernard of Clairvaux wrote about Eleanor’s appearance:

The garments of court ladies are fashioned from the finest tissues of wool or silk. A costly fur between two layers of rich stuffs forms the lining and border of their cloaks. Their arms are loaded with bracelets; from their ears hang pendants, enshrining precious stones. For headdress they have a kerchief of fine linen which they drape about their neck and shoulders, allowing one corner to fall over the left arm. This is the wimple, ordinarily fastened to their brows by a chaplet, a filet, or a circle of wrought gold.”

Bernard of Clairvaux’s description coincides with the one given by Geoffrey de Vigeois, who also condemned the outlandish and vulgar French court fashions in the period when Eleanor was King Louis VII’s wife. Of course, conservative French courtiers, all the more abbots, couldn’t like Eleanor’s frank courtly manners and frank clothes, which were fashionable in Aquitaine and which she was accustomed too.

When Eleanor of Aquitaine and Louis VII were in Palestine on the Second Crusade, there was an outrageous tale about Eleanor and her ladies, which might have originated from the eyewitness account of a Greek observer, who described Eleanor and her ladies as being dressed like Amazons on their way to the Holy Land.

Benoit de Saint-Maure dedicated his Le Roman de Troie (The Romance of Troy), a medieval retelling of the epic theme of the Trojan War, to Eleanor, in which he described Eleanor and her Amazons as riding into battle on a fine Spanish horse caparisoned with “a hundred tiny golden twinkling bells“ and armed with "a hauberk whiter than snow,” a sword, a lance, and a golden shield bordered with rubies and emeralds. She and her Amazons let “their lovely hair hang free.”

In 1154, Eleanor of Aquitaine and her second husband, King Henry II of England, were crowned and consecrated with pomp and splendor. Unfortunately, we don’t have the detailed description of Eleanor’s coronation gown, but, according to Alison Weir, a Victorian biographer would have dressed her in:

a wimple or close coif with a circlet of gems over it; her kirtle or close gown has tight sleeves and fastens with full gathers just below the throat, confined with a rich collar of gems” and over this was added “an elegant pelisson, bordered with fur.”

The impact of Eleanor’s great tastes on clothing style in England was enormous as she introduced fashions, fabrics, and etiquette from more cultured and sophisticated court. Women’s clothing became richly ornamented and increasingly elaborate

Eleanor’s effigy of at Fontevraud Abbey shows her gown covered with diagonal bars of gold, in the triangles of which there are gold crescents placed from point to point, and no doubt other ladies of her time had their emblems or badges embroidered into their gowns.

Eleanor brought some of well known Aquitanian traditions into English fashion. 

A bliaut was a rich, full overgown made of fine silk, which tightly fitted the bodice and down to the hips; it was worn with a decorate belt and an ornamental girdle. Wearing bliaut was a new highly fashionable trend at the royal court.

The bodice of bliaut was split down on either side from underarm to hip and attached with ribbons, which made gown envelop the body tighter. 

The skirt was cut wide, falling down to feet freely, in light folds. Bliaut sleeves were tight from shoulder to elbow, then flared out into enormous cuffs, amusingly long enough to drag on the ground; sleeves were knotted to make them more manageable in a shorter form.

Finest silks from the Middle East were readily available throughout Europe, and Eleanor used silks of various palettes for her gowns; silks were often costly embroidered in gold, silver, or metallic threads.  

According to historians, there was a striped fabric called ray, but it wasn’t widely used at Henry and Eleanor’s court. Woven in Wiltshire, linen was used for women’s headdresses and for undergarments for both sexes. Velvet would not be invented until the fifteenth century.

Before Eleanor of Aquitaine, the following hairstyles and headdresses were popular in England after the Norman Conquest:

  • Couvre-chef, which was a new name for the head-rail after the Norman invasion. The couvre-chef style was wear hair long, sometimes to point of having to be knotted off the ground, and tended to hang down on either side of the face, worn with a circlet to hold it in place.
  • Hair uncovered. By 1125 women began to appear in public with their hair uncovered, usually worn parted down the middle and plaited in various ways.
  • Extreme Length, which echoed in sleeve length. At times, the illusion of long hair was aided with fake hair, ribbons, silk tubes with tassels, and attached metal cylinders.

Eleanor of Aquitaine brought new hairstyles and headdresses in England.

Barbette was supposedly introduced by Eleanor of Aquitaine. It was a band of linen encircling the face and pinned into place. At first it was only worn by royal ladies with a circlet or coronet, but over time this hairstyle was eventually adopted by all classes.

Wimple appeared approximately in 1190, by the time when Henry II was already dead. In this headdress, a long fine linen or silk was draped underneath the chin, across the throat, and the ends were pinned at the crown of the head. It was always worn together with a long veil and usually a circlet.

Sources:

Eleanor of Aquitaine: By the Wrath of God, Queen of England, Alison Weir

Eleanor of Aquitaine. A Biography Book, Marion Meade

Queen Eleanor, Independent Spirit of the Medieval World: a Biography of Eleanor of Aquitaine, J.B. Lippincott

DP AU - The Apprentice & The Engineer (pt 1)

“That’s the last of ‘em!” Sam said, wiping her brow and charging down her blaster. She locked her Fenton Thermos and secured it to her belt with a little flip.

“Good.” said Maddie. She picked up the Infi-map where it had been dropped in battle and handed it to her son. “I think your large, fuzzy friend will be glad to have this back.”

“I think so too, but…” Danny was sure to keep the map rolled up, “I dunno. This is the fourth time someone has tried to use it for some crazy ghost scheme.”

“Well, we can’t keep it here!” Tucker’s voice rang out over the Fenton Phones from back at HQ. He had been watching the fight and operating remotely while Technus had tried to bring ancient 80′s gear back into the present, eliminate modern technology, and give rise to a nostalgic era over which he would have ruled with an iron power glove.

“It attracts way too much ghost activity to Amity Park!”

“I agree, Tuck. It wouldn’t be safe, but…”

“… But what if Frostbite and his clan’s protection isn’t enough anymore?” Jazz finished for him, also on monitor duty at HQ. She crossed her arms, deep in thought.

“What do you want to do, son?” Jack Fenton said, finally having made his way over to the field group. Danny eyed his father who had just last year lost his leg in a ghost incident. ‘I put them through enough here as it is.’ The ghost hybrid reflected privately. After another moment to collect his thoughts, Danny made his decision.

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Gold

“Will you wear this?” Thorin whispers into her ear, her beard scraping Bilbo’s cheek. This close, Bilbo can feel Thorin’s bosom press lightly against her back. On a chest before them lies an ostentatious dress and matching cloak, both spun from pure gold.


Fem!Bagginshield, inspired by this anonymous prompt (from 4 years ago. Wow!!!) and @shipsicle‘s stunning art (Bilbo with golden eyes? Hell yes!!!), set in Erebor where both Thorin and Bilbo fall to the gold’s spell. Featuring a reverse striptease, seriously terrible implications (there was a point this was supposed to be a darkfic), cheesy dialogue, and a cringy title.

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anonymous asked:

could you do 22 for the prompt thing?? Purdy please

22 I don’t know why I married you.

Angel

This is Rob and Laura Petrie’s second case. I have no idea where this came from. It’ a bit weird and no doubt has more plot holes than the spongiest X-File ep. It’s long, so you can keep reading under the cut.

She stood on the threshold and ripped through his shirt with the pinking shears. The fabric shredded, leaving strands of cotton floating to the ground along with the sleeves, collar and body. When she finished, she turned to the pile behind her and found the dress pants. Charcoal grey, well-cut, heavy. She took the point of the blades and dug in, snipping a triangular shape out of the crotch.

           “I don’t know why I married you!” she yelled over her shoulder. “You fucking fucker,” she added for good measure.

His footsteps down the wooden staircase were punctuated with the curse words he favoured. She looked out across the immense front lawn, beyond the upright and sensible white rose bushes, the flowering clematis and trimmed hedges to see the Cartwrights, arm in arm on their own doorstep.

“What the hell are you doing with my Armani?” He grabbed one trouser leg and yanked it from her. She held on to the other leg but the scissors clanged to the ground, making a nest in the pile of shirts.

“I’m doing what I should have done years ago,” she hissed. “Cutting you out!”

Fred Cartwright had made it to the front gate, pushed through the ornate metal and strode to the front door.

“Having a little domestic trouble here, I see.” He smiled and reached out to take the pants. “Why don’t we head inside and see if we can’t work it out,” he looked over his shoulder as Valerie Cartwright arrived, “privately.”

Scully picked up the pile of clothes and walked them upstairs, placing them on the bed and folding what was left into a suitcase. She parked it at the bottom of the closet and headed to the en-suite for a shower.

           Hot water ran down her back and she relished the slightly-too-hot spray for longer than was ecologically-friendly. There was something so satisfying about cutting up clothes and she sifted through her memories to see if there was a source point for that feeling. She couldn’t recall her mother doing it to her father’s wardrobe. Theirs had been a love true and enduring; she could half-entertain the notion that Tara might have done it to Bill’s clothes, but she couldn’t imagine him telling her and she hadn’t talked with Tara that closely for a few years. It was a mystery, but an enjoyable one.

           She didn’t hear the door open but she did feel the momentary draught. She turned and rubbed water from her eyes, to see Mulder standing stark naked in front of the door. He smiled. She shook her head. He pouted. She rolled her eyes. He opened the door. She stepped aside and took the razor from the side.

“Can I help you with that, Scully?”

“You want to shave me?”

He grinned. “It’s a bit of a kink of mine.”

“You, with kinks, Mulder? I don’t believe it.”

He took the razor and held it up.

“Maybe next time,” she said and pinched it back.

“Always ready to serve you, Scully.”

He laughed, then looked down at her with that expression on his face and she knew she wasn’t getting out of there without calf-strain, hickeys where nobody else would see them and at least two orgasms.

He did cook her dinner – one of the many surprisingly good dishes in his repertoire. Chicken fillet stuffed with mozzarella and avocado with mushroom sauce on a bed of basmati rice. He poured a pinot grigio and offered her the pepper shaker.

`           “So are the Cartwrights the prime suspects, Scully?”

           “I guess I’d better be on high alert, now that I’ve shown my true colours, Mulder. Wouldn’t want the neighbourhood to suffer from an unusually high divorce rate, would we?”

           He chuckled over a mouthful of chicken. “No, an abnormally high number of missing persons reports is a much more digestible statistic. Three halves of couples in five years simply vanishing is more than an anomaly. The Cartwrights, and their neighbour, a Miss Lethbridge, have been here longer than the other residents. But there’s never been any evidence against them.”

           The cool wine was going down too well, the comfort of playing house, she sat back in her chair and smiled at him, still smug from the shower. “So, what’s the next step? A blazing row on the lawn? Snipping off the heads of the roses?”

           “Only if we can have a very public making-up session, Scully.” He leant forward and planted a kiss on her mouth.

           “I think Valerie Cartwright would have a stroke if she witnessed that kind of activity. I can’t imagine that pair has so much as held hands in the past ten years.”

           He smirked. “Then let’s give them something stroke-worthy.”

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Dylan inviting you to the shooting range

     You look up at the sky as you took a puff of your cigarette. You watch the clouds slowly move. Your trance is broken when you hear foot steps to the left of you. You look over to see another student. He was tall and had a black trench coat hanging off him. You also noticed he had a NIN t-shirt on. You’d seem him around the school before, but you didn’t know him. He gives you an awkward smile and nod as a hello. You nod back and look back up at the sky. You hear him light his cigarette. You lean against the wall. There was an extremely strong awkward silence between the two of you. You look over at him and notice him starring at you. He stares at the ground once he realizes you caught him starring. He stayed quiet and didn’t show any sign of starting conversation. The awkward silence began to drown you. 

     “I like your shirt.”, you say. He smiles. “Thanks.” You get into a conversation about NIN that later turns into the two of you talking about other bands. You had a very similar music taste. “I’m Dylan.”, he says as he awkwardly snaps his fingers. “I’m (Y/N).”, you smile. You hear the bell ring and you drop your cig and step on it. “Maybe we could hang out sometime?”, you suggest. “Yeah! Maybe we could go to a shooting range or something sometime.”, he suggests. “Yeah! That sound’s really fun!”, you say and walk to your class.

     The week goes by and you and Dylan have talked more and more. You’ve even gained a little crush on him. He invited you to come with him and some friends to the shooting range on Saturday. You accepted and here you are now, in your house, waiting for him to pick you up. “Now is this a date?”, your mom asks. “No he’s just a friend and we’re just hanging out. You have nothing to worry about.”, you tell her. You look in the mirror one more time. You’re wearing a sweater and some jeans with boots. You hear a knock on the door and rush to it. ‘Act casual.’, you tell yourself in your mind as you open the door. You looked up to meet his eyes. “Ready?”, he asks. You nod and tell your mom bye before heading out the door with Dylan.

     Once you make it to the range, you step out of the car, feeling the chilly Autumn breeze. You see Dylan’s good friend Eric and a few other friends and a bunch of guns. You and Dylan walk over to where the other teens were. “Try shooting this one. It doesn’t have a very strong recoil and it’s pretty easy to handle.”< Dylan says, handing you a smaller gun. You aim at a bowling pin that was set up as a target. You pull the trigger and watch the pin hit the ground. “Nice job!”, he says. Watching you shoot filled him with joy. Eric hands Dylan a gun you watch as he loads it. “Dylan be careful. You have the gun facing your stomach.”, you warn. He looks down at the gun. “You’re right.”< he says without a trace of care in his voice. He turns the gun around where the barrel isn’t facing his stomach. You watch as he aims and fires at a pin. The gunshots echoed through the forest. You stare at his every move as he shoots. Who knew guns could make guys so much more attractive? 

     “You wanna try this one? It’s got a pretty strong recoil.”, Dylan says, handing you a gun. You take it and he puts ear muffs on your head. “Your gonna need those.”, he says. You can’t hear him, but you could read his lips. You aim the gun and fire. He was right about the recoil. It made you take a step back and you ended up tripping. Before you hit the ground, Dylan catches you from behind. You laugh and take off the ear muffs. “Thanks Dyl.”, you laugh. “Are you alright?”, he asks. “Yeah I’m fine.”,you try to control your laugh. 

     The sun starts to go down, creating a beautiful sunset. A cold breeze flies by, making you shiver. Eric nudges Dylan with his elbow. “Dude let her wear your trenchcoat.”, he whispers. Dylan nods and takes off his trenchcoat. “Here.”, he says, trying not to be awkward as he hands you his coat. You smile and take it. “Thanks.”, you say as you put it on. It drags the ground and the sleeves almost completely cover your hands. It was extremely warm and you slightly nuzzle into it. Dylan watches, adoring every second. Another hour passes and it’s dark now. “I think I should get home soon.”, you tell Dylan. He agrees and you both walk to his car. Once you get back to your house, he walks you to the door. “This was really fun. We need to do more stuff like this.”, you say with a smile. “Yeah.”, he manages to stutter out. You hand him back his trenchcoat and walk inside.

anonymous asked:

imagine veronica putting on jd's trench coat jacket thing and it's so big it's dragging on the ground and the sleeves are way too long. BUT ALSO imagine veronica hiding in jd's jacket when she doesn't wanna talk to anyone at school, like, she just pushes his jacket open and presses her face to his chest and he wraps fhe coat around her too

In my mind Veronica is tol and only like 5 inches shorter than jd so it wouldn’t drag on the ground but Veronica hiding in his coat is literally my aesthetic I love it

Inspiration just hit for this one and it’s been a long time since I’ve written a story in one go. This is for @heart-baek-bleed. Thank you for the request and I hope you liked this sweetie! This is also for @coffee-for-himchan. Thank you for your talent in the fandom and also for being an inspiration in this story as well. 

           The first time he saw her it was winter. It was the first snow of the season. The outside world was a blanket of white and the street was fairly empty. The sun was just rising and he was out, shivering despite the fluffy jacket, hopping up and down as to not get stuck in the knee high snow. The coffee shop was nearby and all he wanted was a warm cappuccino to get him through the morning and the freeze.

           Seven in the morning and the winter sky was a gray cover. Rays of light shone through sometimes, creating dazzling lights sparkling off the ice that had hardened over the hours. But the snow was still falling. Himchan clapped his gloved hands together, wishing he had had enough foresight to have brought earmuffs.

           He reached the corner and out on the streets, was a white figure. It was a scene straight from a movie and for a moment he wondered if he had unwittingly wandered onto a set. She was dancing. Her footwork was light, not hindered at all by the half a meter of snow on the ground. Her sleeves fluttered in the wind and that was when he realized she was only wearing a thin dress. She was crazy.

           A warm blast of air hit him in the face. Alluring wisps of coffee lingered in front of his nose. He wanted nothing more than to walk in. But he couldn’t keep his eyes off of the vision in front of him. A voice next to him spoke. “She’s been there for quite a while now. Poor girl. Must not be right in the head.”

           The elder man who had spoken shook his head before shoving his hands into his pockets and trudged back along the snow, grumbling about the weather the whole way down the street. Himchan felt a twinge of unease for the girl. Her eyes were closed as she twirled and there was a soft smile on her lips, as if she had a secret melody in her head and nobody could quite guess the song.

           Himchan pushed the doors to the café open. The barista behind the counter glanced up. “Hi,” he nodded in greeting before turning his attention back to the coffee machine that was currently dripping, drip drop, with the newly brewed liquid.

           “Can I have a cappuccino please? And also a hot chai latte. Thank you.”

           The barista looked a little surprised. “Two doses of caffeine this early in the morning?”

           “I’m working from home. I’m going to need it. It’s a sleepy day today.”

           He leaned against the counter. From the window, he saw that she was still there. “How long has she been out there,” he tilted his chin at the dancing figure.

           “Since I opened. I asked her if she wanted to come inside and she only shook her head. Seemed like a foreigner. Either way, must never have seen snow before. I swear she wouldn’t leave.”

           Himchan nodded and when the two cups of steaming coffee was placed before him, paid. “Stay warm!”

           When he came out, the snow was falling harder, if that was even possible. She had stopped dancing. Instead, she stood still, with her arms outstretched, head tilted backwards, letting the flakes kiss her face. He was surprised no cars had honked her out of the streets yet. He waited, not wanting to break the dreamlike image before him.

           The coffees in his hands were not getting any warmer and that was when he called out. “Excuse me!” He had to call her three times for her to open her eyes.

           She smiled once at him, a dazzling smile that lit up brighter than the sun could, before slowly returning to the angelic pose. He jogged up to her, feeling like he was breaking a rule. One simply did not interrupt a deity. But there was something that made him so determined to interact with her.

           “Hi, I’m sorry. It’s cold out here and you really shouldn’t be standing in the middle of the streets like this.”

           Her arms fell and he felt bad, as if he had ruined something beautiful. If only he could turn back time, he would just have left her alone. “No need to apologize.” The bartender was right. Despite speaking fluently, she had an accent. “I guess I must have seemed strange standing out here by myself.”

           Himchan laughed hastily. “Just worried about your safety. I have coffee. Would you like a cup?” He held up the drinks he had just purchased.

           The smile she gave him warmed him straight to his toes. “Did you get one for me?”

           He had, despite whatever he had told the bartender. “Yeah. I figured you would want to warm up. I hope you like chai.”

           Her cheeks were rosy and the mirth in her eyes didn’t dim. “I love chai!”

           He looked around awkwardly. His eyes met the curious gaze of the coffee shop owner and he felt his cheeks heat with embarrassment. “Well, I don’t quite know where we could sit. We can go back to the café, or you know, walk somewhere else warmer. If you want, or you can just take the coffee as a gift and get somewhere warmer. It must be freezing. You’re only wearing a dress.” He was babbling. God. He wanted to be swallowed up by the ground now. Why had he thought talking to this stranger would be a good idea? It wasn’t like he was used to hitting on girls. Was he even hitting on her? No he wasn’t.

           She let him finish his rambling, the entire time watching him with an amused smile. “You speak too much too fast. I only understood a little. Thank you for the coffee.”

           His face fell despite his better intentions. He had wanted to stay with her a little longer. “Oh. Here you go.” He held out the coffee cup. “I’ll head back on my way.”

           “Are you not going to drink with me?” Her accent lilted each syllable, holding him in their melodic sway. “Are you going home? Can I follow you?” And that was when he saw her blush get deeper. “If that is appropriate, of course.”

           “O-of course it is.” It wasn’t, was it? “I live just two blocks away. I have a conference though, so you can just make yourself comfortable. The call will only take a few minutes, I promise.” He found himself already making her promises. There was something in him that just wanted to be at her every beck and call.

           “Please don’t let me a bother.”

           He waved her words away. “Not at all.” He looked at her thin dress. “Do you want my coat? You must be cold.”

           She smiled. “Where I come, it is even colder. I am okay. I just missed the snow.”

           A thousand questions bubbled to his lips. Where did she come from? Why did she miss the snow? Why was she here in Korea? All those questions would be answered in due time. Right now, he pushed open the door to his humble abode and shook his boots to get rid of the snow. She stepped in, looking around in wonder.

           “It’s kind of small, a very typical bachelor’s pad,” he said, embarrassed. Females rarely visited, unless they were of blood relation, and then that didn’t matter.

           “It is cozy,” she stated. “I like it.”

           He quickly cleared a spot for her at the dining table. “You can sit here. Drink the coffee. Here are some pastries. I don’t know what you like, or if you have any allergies. I’m going to sit at the other table, okay? Please don’t worry about making yourself comfortable. Anything here, you can touch and see and you can wander anywhere.”

           She was giving him the kind, amused smile again. “You are talking too fast again. But I will make myself comfortable. Thank you.”

           When the call was over, he found her curled on his sofa. Her hands were tucked in one of his sweaters and he felt his heart warm. Himchan sat on the edge of the coffee table and stared at her. He stared until his tiny heater sputtered to life and she opened her eyes.

           “You are done,” she stated simply and he nodded.

           “Yeah. I’m sorry. I never got to introduce myself properly. My name is Himchan.”            

           She gave her name. It sounded beautiful in whatever language it was in and he repeated it again a few times until she laughed. “Yes, that is my name.” His ears tipped pink. There was something other worldly about her, and he felt like he couldn’t compare.

           She was a traveler. She had been wandering the world for six months now, and Korea would be the final stop before heading home. She had purposely chosen to come during winter because even though home had snow, she had heard Korea’s snowfall was incomparable. So she had wanted to come.

           “I just arrived yesterday.”

           “Do you want me to take you back to your hotel?”

           She shook her head. “I didn’t stay in a hotel.”

           “Where were you? Where is all your luggage?”

           She smiled. “I was staying in a one day room. I only have one bag. No luggage. Life is more fun that way.” Himchan stared and she gave him a curious gaze back. “Is it not? Do you think I’m weird?” A worried look crossed her brows.

           “N-not at all.”

           “Good.” There was a silence that fell between them. “Can I stay here?” “How long are you staying?” The two questions came out at the same time.

           She covered her mouth shyly. It took him a good minute to register her words. “Of course you can. Do you want to get your bag later?” It was a spontaneous agreement. He didn’t think about logistics, didn’t consider that he knew next to nothing about her, and was now offering her a place in his home.

           She nodded. “Thank you.”

           She stayed. Every night when Himchan came home from work, she had dinner ready. She introduced him to her native cuisine and he showed her Korean dishes. They talked about nothing and everything, the topics changing as quickly as the pitches in a song. It was a comfortable existence, until one night he found himself staring at her face, not three centimeters away from his.

           “Can I kiss you?” she asked.

           Himchan’s heart skipped a few beats. Yes, he wanted to reply, but instead all he did was close his eyes. Her lips pressed against his and too quickly pulled away. He brought her back, taking the initiative this time. Their mouths moved against each other and all the words that had passed between them seemed like a road that led to this moment.

           They were breathless when they finally parted. Her eyes were still closed and she leaned in to rest her cheek on his chest. Her palm was placed flat on his stomach. Her breathing was quiet and he held her. When he saw that she had fallen asleep, Himchan couldn’t help but let an exhilarated smile escape him. He giggled softly to himself and he saw her lips curve upwards.

           Weeks passed into months. The winter turned into spring, and he never dared to ask her how long she would be staying. That was the forbidden question. He had asked before, and she never answered. So he kept it this way. Selfishly, he wanted to keep her forever.

           She brought him on adventures, letting spring and the monotony of work and home life blend into summer and the excitement of road trips and new places.

           “Himchan,” and he waited. There was something melancholy in her voice and his heart stilled. Please don’t let this be the goodbye he had been avoiding.

           “Yes?” his voice cracked, giving away his emotions.

           “I love you.” This, he hadn’t been expecting. Her ears were by his heart and he knew she could hear the increased speed of his pulse.

           “I love you too,” he replied because it was the truth. But he was scared of the implications. Was this how she wanted to part ways, with a confession that would never allow him to live his life the same way again? Not that he could ever go back to how life was before. Not after her.

           She sat up and smiled at him gently, cupping his face. “Why do you sound so sad?” A question he should be asking her.

           “I-” but before he could respond, she kissed him, sealing his answer away in the bottom of his heart.

           It was autumn. The days were getting colder again. “Will it snow soon?” She turned to smile at him. Himchan looked up from the dinner he was making.

           “Maybe in another month.”

           She sighed. “Good.” And she was then lost in her own world. He stared at her, worried. Ever since the summer sun glow had faded, he noticed that she seemed thinner, seemed paler.

           “Do you want to go to the hospital? Are you not feeling well?”

           She shook her head. “I’m fine.” That was it. A curt two words. He stared at her. She smiled winsomely at him. “Don’t worry too much, ChanChan.” She had given him the nickname and now he was used to hearing it. The reassurance was almost good enough.

           Himchan kept a careful eye on her through the next weeks. When she caught him staring for too long, she would frown. “If you stared more, you would see right through me.” Her Korean has definitely improved enough to scold him.

           “Sorry. I just wanted to make sure you were okay.”

           The first snow fall came in late November. It was considered early. When he woke up, he saw her staring out the window. There was a wistful look on her face as she sat, trance like.

           “Do you want to go out?”

           “Yes, yes please.” Her voice shook and he made sure she was dressed warmly. Her body seemed so thin under his careful embrace. His head raced through the possibilities. He didn’t quite know what she did when he was at work. All he knew was that she had made friends with the local business owners, and she said that she had fun.

           It was seven in the morning and the sky was a smoky gray. She stood in the middle of the road and smiled at him. “ChanChan, can you buy me coffee?”

           He was reluctant to let her go but she was smiling so brightly. There was more life to her eyes than there has been in a while, he noticed. “Okay. Chai latte?” She nodded and he headed into the coffee shop.

           “Girlfriend really likes the snow, doesn’t she?” The barista raised an eyebrow and Himchan chuckled.

           “Yeah. Reminds me of when I first met her.”

           “Been a year now, right?”

           “Just about. Thank you,” Himchan nodded and took both cups with him.

           When he walked back out, she was on the ground. Her white coat blended with the snow and he was reminded of the first time he saw her. But there was also something else. Red stained the snow next to her and he shouted her name. The coffee cups slid out of his hands. The snow let out a tiny hiss as it turned brown and melted under the heat. He ran to her and sank onto his knees next to her. Himchan held her in his arms, calling her name again.

           Her eyes fluttered open and she smiled. Blood stained her lips. Another crimson bubble escaped her lips as she coughed. “Himchan,” she smiled weakly. “I am ready to go home now.”

           His heart twisted and he placed a kiss on her temple. “Let me call an ambulance. Just hold on for a few more minutes.”

           Her hands clutched onto his, keeping him from reaching for his phone. “I want to go home,” she said. “I was gifted with a whole year; I’m ready now.”

           “Okay,” he sobbed silently. “Okay. Tell me where the address is. I’ll book a flight and I will go with you.”

           She shook her head. “ChanChan.” She coughed again and this time the blood stained her coat. “I’ve been preparing for this for so long. There is nothing to be afraid of.” A tiny frown creased her lips. “I’m just sorry I don’t have more time with you.”

           In halting breaths, she told him the truth. She was diagnosed with a terminal illness. Unable to see her family mourn for her, she had sold everything and decided to go on an adventure. Wherever she passed would have been her final resting place. She only had a few months left, “but because of you, I was gifted a miracle.” She sighed, completely at peace. “See ChaChan, you were my miracle. And I am happy for the year. I am blessed. But now it is time for me to go home.”

           Her eyes closed and he didn’t care that his tears were dripping on her face, didn’t care that his knees were frozen solid, burning with the cold from the snow. “Please, I love you. Please don’t leave.”

           “I love you, ChanChan.” She coughed again and he held her. “I’m happy you are my resting place.” And those words broke him completely. Suddenly the freezing wind wasn’t the most painful thing. Grief was ice through his veins. Her grip on his arm slacked and her eyes remained closed.

           The barista would remember the sight for years to come. Himchan with the girl in his arms, the world painted in white and only the red stains as a reminder of the life that had lived and passed.

anonymous asked:

PROTECTIVE BUCKY WAS AMAZINNGGGGG .... What about protective Bucky post winter soldier?

“You’re my best girl, you know that, right?” 

You tilted your head to the side and looked at Bucky. It was completely out of the blue, as were most things he said. He was at a stage of recovery where he was learning that talking was more therapeutic than reflecting on past memories in a sullen silence. Consequentially, that meant that his filter was nonexistent, causing him to blurt out whatever popped in his head. 

A lot of the time they were sweet things. He’d wander into whatever room you were occupying and just talk with a semi-dazed look on his face. “That dress you wore two Wednesdays ago looked nice. You look good in blue.” “There’s this little stand on Coney Island that has the best hot dogs you’ll ever eat. Not sure what they put in them…it can’t be good for you. But they’re delicious. We should go.” “You know, I think you’re the same height that Steve used to be.” 

If it weren’t for the permanently suave tone in his voice, you’d almost describe it as child-like. Either way, it was progress. This time last year Bucky was robotic, and ridden with anxiety. He still was, in some ways, but there were more good days than bad. 

Today was a bad day. 

“What’s wrong?” You squeezed his hand–as much as you could, anyway. Whenever you were in public, you held the metal one. He hated it, but you insisted. It’d actually been Steve who had made the suggestion. Show him you’re not afraid of it. And you weren’t. You never had been. But Bucky didn’t believe you. So you were going to parade around holding his damn hand until he did. 

“Nothing is wrong…I just don’t think I tell you things like that enough, is all.” You could hear soft clicks from the plates on his arm shifting around, as if he were a bird ruffling his feathers. He was on edge. He was ready to fight. 

“What’s wrong?” you repeated as you followed his line of sight, right to a group of men staring straight at you. Or rather, your chest. They were clearly drunk, and did absolutely nothing to hide their shameless gawking. You weren’t able to catch any of their conversation, but from the lewd gestures they made, it couldn’t have been good. “Bucky, just ignore them and keep moving,” you mumbled. “I don’t want to be late for the movie.”

One of them whistled. Shit. You were going to be late for the movie. 

“Bucky,” you pleaded as he jerked his hand away and began stomping towards the rowdy group–none of whom seemed vaguely threatened. 

“Oi, look at mister tough guy here,” one of them slurred. He was balding and wore a wedding ring. “You comin’ to put us in our place?” 

“Mister tough guy with his hair all tied back in a pretty bun,” another added. 

A third chimed in. He was wearing a greasy white tank top. How stereotypical. “Wait, wait, wait, let him talk, boys. I wanna hear him say it. I wanna hear him tell us to stop lookin’ at his girlfriend’s tits.” 

The bald one spoke up again. “Yeah say it. We got every right, you know. She put ‘em out there. It’s her own damn fault if people stare.”

You crossed your arms over your chest and looked down self-consciously. You’d worked so hard to put together your outfit. You always did on date nights. 

Bucky was, of course, ignoring every word that came out of their mouths as instead, he began taking off his jacket. He was very slow and methodical about it, which naturally received a few comments.

“Watch out fellas, he’s ready to fight….” Greasy tank top guy trailed off as Bucky’s jacket hit the ground. 

Bucky’s sleeve was pushed up to his elbow, but that didn’t make his arm any less impressive. The glow of the city lights flickered over the metal, highlighting every intricate detail. And then the men were gone. Stumbling and cursing and yelling half-hearted insults as they scurried away into the night, presumably to find some other street corner to loiter around and harass women. 

He turned to you, looking visibly disappointed.

“No, Buck. Don’t give me that face.” 

“I’m not giving you any face.” 

“You are. You’re all disappointed that you didn’t get to punch the wall and make it crack. I know you.” 

“You make it sound as if I go around looking for ways to show off. Trust me. This is not something I like to show off, doll,” he scoffed. 

“Aha!” You jabbed a finger in his direction. “You don’t call me doll unless you’re in a good mood.” 

Bucky crinkled his nose as he pulled his jacket on. “I have no idea what you’re talking about dol–” he snapped his mouth shut. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.” 

“I think you do.” 

He stared at you. His eyes were cold and his body was tense. You were starting to second guess yourself, now. Maybe you misread him.

“Look, Bucky…in all seriousness, you need to get a hold on that. You can’t go around breaking walls every time some asshole makes a shitty comment.” 

“Whatever you say, doll,” Bucky replied with a sudden smile, and scooped you off your feet, bridal style. “Let’s get out of here,” he murmured before pressing his lips feverishly against yours.

“You can’t keep avoiding this by having sex with me every time it happens,” you grumbled, already half lost in the kiss. 

“Just let me avoid it one more time.” 

“Yeah okay…one more time.”


Read 40s!Protective Bucky here

8
Copa del Rey: Real Madrid vs. Cultural Leonesa | 7-1 (Nacho 68′)
Jaehee: 10 Years later fic (fluff) (1,5k followers series)

Here’s the second installement for the ‘10 years later’ fic series! This time it’s Jaehee’s since it was our precious angel’s birthday yesterday. Although it’s not as long as Saeyoung’s, I feel like this is the right future for Jaehee. The angel deserves some peace! - Michelle Xx

~~~

Today is a big day! It’s the 10th year anniversary of the coffee shop! Jaehee is putting up the finishing touches around the little shop. White and yellow balloons, banners with ‘10th anniversary’ and some extra special flower pieces.

The shop doesn’t open for another hour. There’s only one banner left the hang, but she isn’t ready to hang that one up yet. Actually, it’s not be hung up, but to be held by Zen and Jumin. Only because they’re the tallest ones here right one. As are the rest of the RFA.

MC thinks that they’re just here to help out with the decorations. Which is partially true. But they’re also here for something else. A little surprise actually.

Right now, Jaehee is standing in the back room of the shop. She giving instructions for the surprise to your son.

“Remember, when uncle Zen and uncle Jumin roll out the banner, you give mommy the special coffee cup, alright?” she asks her son.

The little guy gives her a big smile. “Okay, mama!”

She smiles sweetly back at him and ruffles his hair. “That’s my precious boy.”

He pushes her hand away and runs off while saying: “Now uncle Zen has to do my hair again, mama.”

She chuckles as she watches her boy run off to Zen.

She sits down and looks back on the past 10 years. It took her over 3 years to finally admit to MC that she’s in love with her. The moment she did, MC told her how relieved she was that she finally fell in love with her since she’s been in love with her from the moment they met. They were already business partners for 3 years and now they were gonna be lovers too.

Not even 2 years later the two of you were getting married. MC was the one who proposed to her. She made coffee cups with the words 'Will you marry me?’. Each cup had a word. The last cup held the red box with the ring inside. MC was so nervous that she would say 'no’ and so happy when she said 'yes’, that she had to take the day off from all the intense excitement.

And the wedding… The wedding was beautiful.

~ 5 Years earlier ~

Any minute now. Any minute now that I’ll be walking down that isle. 'Cause I’m getting married. I’m getting married. To my girlfriend. Oh, I wonder how beautiful MC will look like. Gorgeous as always, of course. She’s gonna be the light of the day.

Someone taps my shoulder from behind and interrupts me from my thoughts. I look back to see Mr. Ha- I mean, Jumin behind. Even after all this time, it feels a bit weird to call him by his first name. But today he’s going to give me away to my wife-to-be, so first name bases are exactly right. Neither my father or mother are alive to give me away and I don’t want my uncle to do it either. And as much as I admire Zen, Jumin’s never been a bad man to me. He gave me alot of work, yes, but he was never unkind or a horrible boss. Although he didn’t like it when I resigned at first, he has come to terms with the path that makes me happy. It would only feel right for him to give me away today.

“Are you ready, Jaehee?” he asks with a genuine smile.

“Yes, I’m ready, Jumin,” I say.

He offers me his arm. I put my hand under it. We start to walk to the door where the official isle is. Waiting there will the reverend to marry MC and I. I’m so happy that she agreed to get married in a church.

“Jaehee, I believe it is time to close your eyes before you see your bride,” Jumin says.

“Oh, right!” I quickly shut my eyes. We couldn’t decide who was gonna be waiting for who, so we decided to walk down that isle together. But we didn’t want to see each other until we were actually in front of the reverend. So we’re walking with our eyes closed as Jumin walks with me and Zen with MC.

As my eyes stay closed, the nerves are starting to build up inside me.

We stop. We’re in front of the door. Suddenly I smell a scent that despite all the perfume and hair products could be none other than MC’s. It takes every ounce of willpower not to open my eyes and look at her.

The music inside begins to play and the door opens. The four of us start to walk again. Only a few more moments before our lives are forever and officially tied together. These moments seem to go on forever.

Suddenly we stop. Jumin moves his arm and kisses my hand as a gesture of 'goodbye’ and courtesy. I feel him leave my side as the music slowly comes to an end. The reverend tells us: “The brides may open their eyes now.”

I slowly open mine and turn to face MC. As my eyes lay upon her, she takes my breath away.

Her dress is just above the knee, whereas mine is to the ground. Hers has sleeves and mine is strapless. Her top is covered in laced and mine with tiny flower sequins. Her hair braided to the side with white dotted accessoires and mine is in a half updo with curls. But she still looks the most beautiful out of the two of us.

My smile must be as big as hers and our eyes equally teary.

I don’t hear most of the words the reverend says. Except for when we have to say 'I do’. Her hand is delicate when she slips on my ring. I put her ring on as gentle as I can.

“You may now kiss the bride.”

Our kiss is soft and long. Her lips fit perfectly against mine. We are made for each other

And they still are almost 5 years later. She already said 'I do’ to Jaehee once. She will again. She also said 'yes’ when they decided to adopt a child together. And here they are with a perfect 7 year old boy.

Jaehee takes a deep breath and steps out to the front of the shop. All of the RFA members, her son and her wife. The big moment has arrived.

She steps forward to MC, who’s looking at the finished decorations. Behind her, Jumin and Zen are holding the rolled up banner. She lightly taps MC on the shoulder. She turns around and looks at her with a smile.

“Are you excited, Jaehee?” she asks sweetly.

“Yes, I am,” she answers, “But not just for the reason you think.”

She gives her a puzzled look. Jaehee takes her hand and begins to speak. “Ten years ago I asked you to be my partner. Back then it was just for business. A little further down the road it was you asking me to be your partner. We both agreed to share the rest of our lives together and to raise a wonderful son together. And now I have the same question to ask you as I did 10 years ago; will you be my partner? And this time to renew our vows.”

The banner behind them is rolled out and it says 'Marry me again?’. Then their young son comes up to them and gives his mommy the ring from his mama.

The two women look at each other before MC showes Jaehee a big smile and starts to cry. From happiness and joy. To have been blessed with such a wonderful lady is something she still thanks the Lord for every day.

“Yes! Yes, I’ll marry you again!

She throws her arms around her wife, who lets out a sigh of relief and holds onto her beloved for dear life. They both feel the arms of their son wrapping around their legs and hugging his parents. Behind them are their friends cheering and celebrating.

She’s so happy to have found someone like MC. Someone to start a family with, filled with love.

anonymous asked:

:D can i get a seventeen reaction to you blushing and running away when they confess or smile at you?

S.Coups/Seungcheol: Seungcheol would not be shy at all as he confesses. He’d look at you square in the eye, smirking a bit, his brown eyes glistening as he tells you, very straightforward, “I like you.” You’d blush and look down, and as soon as you tried to run away, oh no think again. Seungcheol would reach out and grab you lightly, pulling you back to him as he chuckles softly. “Where are you going?” he’d tease. “Do you dislike me that much?” he’d joke, pulling your chin up. His eyes would soften, as would his tone as he asks seriously, “So, do you like me?”

Jeonghan: Jeonghan would be all bright smiles and shining eyes as he confesses. He’d gently brush his hair behind his ear, looking at you expectantly for a response. When you say nothing, just standing there with red cheeks, your feet getting ready to bolt, Jeonghan would reach out and gently cup your elbow. “Are you okay?” He’d ask, pulling you towards him, his hand gentle on your skin. “Ah, I shouldn’t have sprung that on you so quickly, huh? I’m sorry.” His smile is sincere, his eyes bright and lips curling, “We can forget about it if you want.” You quickly shake your head, trying to say that it’s fine and Jeonghan smiles at you, his brow arching just a bit. His tongue is quick, and there’s already a teasing remark on his lips. “Are you sure? I don’t want you to get all flustered again….”

Joshua/Jisoo: This poor baby. He would be equally as embarrassed as you! Joshua would probably confess as he occasionally stares at the ground, tugging at his sleeve nervously, wringing his hands together. For some reason, as soon as he looks up and sees your red cheeks, he finds comfort. Knowing that you feel as awkward as him makes him feel loads better. So finally, just as you decide to run away, Jisoo lets out a deep breathe and looks you directly in the eyes, a soft smile lighting up his face. “You don’t have to like me back,” he assures you, “I just wanted you to know how I felt.” You think he’s absolutely insane to think that you wouldn’t like him, so instead of running away (like your body wants to automatically do), you reach out and tangle your hand with his. The smile he gives you back makes you glad you stayed.

Junhui: I don’t see how you would run away from Jun, because the moment he sees you, he has you cornered. His hands are on either side of your head, his face inclined down to be even with your eyes. He has a slight twist to his lips, his eyes shining. His breath fans over your lips, causing them to part open, and that’s exactly what he wants. He tilts his head to the side, his lips quirking up higher as he confesses. “You see, I just haven’t been able to get you out of my mind…” His words are cheesy, and they make your cheeks grow even more red. You try to stutter out an excuse, ducking underneath his arms and you can hear his laughter as you run away, your cheeks burning. 

Hoshi/Soonyoung: I can see Soonyoung being another member who doesn’t let you escape. As soon as you turn around to run, Hoshi has both arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you back. His laughter twinkles in your ear, his chest vibrating on your back. His tone is teasing, and he quickly releases you, making sure to turn you around to face him. “Are you embarrassed?” he asks, a wide smile on his lips. “How cute,” he pokes your red cheek, causing you to whine and reach a hand up to slap his hand away from your face, but Hoshi is quick, and instead grabs your hand with his, interlocking your fingers. This makes you blush harder, and Hoshi’s voice is soft and surprisingly serious as he smiles down at you, saying, “Don’t be embarrassed, I really do like you a lot.”

Wonwoo: Wonwoo would be a bit nervous, of course. But you wouldn’t be able to physically notice. While he’s confessing, he subconsciously pulls his sleeves over his palms, twisting the material in his hands. Seeing you be embarrassed would probably make him flustered, and if you ran away, he’d probably steer clear of you out of fear that you didn’t like him. Once he realizes that you’re just shy, Wonwoo would shyly glance into your eyes, a nervous tilt in his voice as he asks, “Maybe we can work on our shyness together?”

Woozi/Jihoon: Jihoon has never had a girlfriend before (or even friends that are girls), but he doesn’t strike me as shy. I feel like Jihoon would be pretty straightforward with his feelings, so he’s just completely confused as to why you would run away. “Eh?” he’d call out after you, “Where are you going?” He might be a bit discouraged because of what happened, so he may seem a bit cold when you meet again. When you finally work up the nerve to talk to him, Jihoon will be all tense shoulders and tense lips, but as soon as you say that you were just nervous because you like him too, Jihoon would visibly relax, his shoulder relaxing. “You don’t think I was nervous too? …..wait, did you say you like me too?” His smile is wide and silly, his eyes crinkling even more.

DK/Seokmin: Seokmin would be a bit shy as he confesses, but he’d still be smiling brightly at you. As soon as he sees your cheeks blossoming in red, he’d throw his head back and let out a magical laugh, saying, “Eh? But why are you embarrassed? I’m the one who just confessed!” This would make you blush again, and Seokmin would just smile at you, a bit nervous as he waits for your response. “Ah, but really,” he would say, “I like making you blush.” Seokmin would smile wider, draping a hand over your shoulder and teasing you by saying, “I like youuuuu ~~~~”

Mingyu: Mingyu would whine. Straight up whining as soon as he sees you running away. “Wae, where are you going?! I haven’t finished confessing!” He would chase after you, exclaiming, “I should be the one who’s embarrassed, not you! Come back!” When he finally reaches you, cornering you, his chest heaving, his hand pressed on the wall that’s behind you, his eyes are twinkling with mischief and you realize that this is fun to him, him chasing you makes him happy, and so when he asks, “Why did you run away from me?” you decide to be bold and say something like “I wanted to see if you would chase me.” Mingyu laughs, his chest vibrating from the force of it. Of it’s own accord, his other hand reaches up to brush your chin softly, and he teases back in a low voice, “I’ll chase you until the day you tell me to stop.”

The8/Minghao: This poor puppy would be really confused. He wouldn’t actively try to seek you out, but when he does see you again, he’d stand in front of you and tilt his head, his eyes wide and confused as he asks why you ran away from him. His eyes are understanding as you explain that you were really nervous, but once you’re finished talking, Minghao purses his lips, his brows furrowing. “I don’t want you to be nervous with me, I want you to be comfortable with me.” He smiles a little at you, reaching out to grab your hand in his, rubbing his thumb across your skin. “Please don’t be nervous with me, okay?” He smiles lightly at you, his eyes shining, and your cheeks are just a tiny bit red as you nod your head yes. 

Seungkwan: Seungkwan would also whine, but it’s just to hide the fact that you bruised his ego. “Eh? You’re running away from me?!” He’d cross his arms over his chest, huffing as he let out a small snort. “Aish, who does this girl think she is?” He’d lightly shake his head, before deciding that this is just unacceptable, and stalking after you. “Hey you! Who do you think you are?” To be honest, he’d probably argue with you a bit because, really, it’s not polite to just leave someone standing there, even if you don’t like that person back. Halfway through his speech, you realize that his voice is wavering a bit, his fingers digging into his skin and you realize that Seungkwan is nervous. You start to say his name but then Seungkwan blurts out, “Why don’t you like me back?” And honestly, how could this boy think you don’t like him?

Vernon/Hansol: Vernon would try to not seem affected, but honestly, he’s a nervous wreck too. He just likes you so much and he does not want to screw this up. So when you run away from him with flaming cheeks, Vernon visibly deflates, muttering to himself, “Way to go Vernon.” It takes a little coaxing from his hyungs, but then he finally seeks you out again. His facade drops just a little as he stutters out a hello, and it makes you smile a bit, to see him just be himself. Vernon relaxes at the look of your smile and without meaning to blurts out, “You look really pretty when you smile.” This makes both of you blush and Vernon runs a hand through his hair awkwardly as he tries to ask you out on a date.  

Dino/Chan: Chan would probably be looking down as he confesses, a bit nervous. He doesn’t even notice that you ran away until he looks back up, a question on the tip of his tongue, but it dies as soon as he realizes he’s alone. His lips pout adorably and he asks out loud, “Where did they go?” Dino would look for you immediately, and once he finds you, he marches right up to you, asks why you left, and…. then he gets embarrassed. “Unless that was your way of telling me that you don’t like me… aish, why did I do this?” He mutters to himself cutely and you can’t help but to put a hand on his forearm, telling him that you were just nervous. Chan smiles brightly, leaning his body more towards yours, his eyes alight with happiness. His tone is eager, curious and nervous, as he asks, “So what does that mean? You like me too?”

[Starter for @adventures-of-the-candy-man]

The Teavees are not people who take to change quickly, so it should come as little surprise that they arrive looking more or less the same as they did the first time they entered the factory.  Ethel is in some sort of crinoline-ed floral monstrosity, and the only indication that Mike is not wearing literally the same outfit (as when you are a twelve year old boy it is entirely possible if not exactly encouraged to wear the same clothes for months at a time) is the fact that those clothes shrunk with him, and these are slightly too big.  The hems of his pants drag on the ground, and the sleeves of his sweatshirt threaten to swallow his hands.  His hair seems to be trying to compensate for the height he lost. 

They both look tired, but Mike has always looked tired.  He looks tightly wound, too; laser focused and not on his phone or tablet for once, but also possibly on the verge of a melt down.  Ethel looks more wary.  Ethel looks like she could use a drink.  

“Do you think…,” she asks her son, who is staring straight ahead, like he thinks he might be able to bore holes in the factory’s walls with his mind to get one more look at those machines, those devices, that technology.  That stuff that’s out there, that’s really, really real and won’t stop needling at his brain, messing up his high scores (and he doesn’t want it to).

“Mike?  Michael?  Do you think there’s a way in that doesn’t involving falling down a-…”

There is not.  At least, not today.  

But there is a pile of Teavees on the floor. 

anonymous asked:

Surprising Dylan by coming into his room wearing /just/ his trench coat 😏😏

You get to Dylan’s house, knocking on the door. You look up with a small smile as Mrs. Klebold opens it, laughing softly when she sees you in Dylan’s coat, “Hi, y/n.” You giggle as well- the trench coat drags lightly along the ground and sleeves go well past your arms. “Dylan left this at my house yesterday… can I go give it back to him?” She nods, “Of course, sweetheart, he’s in his room.” You nod and thank her, heading up to Dylan’s room. You knock on the door and he calls, “Come in!”

You open the door and Dylan grins when he sees you, laughing softly. “Hey, baby… oh, wow, you brought my coat…” he murmurs, getting off his bed. You lean up on your toes when he reaches you and kiss him gently. Dylan used to wear his coat all the time when you first met. It was basically his armor and you almost never saw him without it. As he grew more attached to you, it started to seem just like a piece of clothing he enjoyed. You knew how much it had meant when you found the coat lying on your bed after he had left. “Huh, I can’t believe I forgot it,” he murmurs, smiling at you, “Thanks for bringing it back.” “Of course,” you smile back, resting your hands on his chest.

“You look good in it,” Dylan says, moving his arms around you, “Really?” you ask. He nods and you press against him, “You want me to take it off?” He grins faintly, “You don’t have to if you don’t want to.” You lick your lips as you pull the coat down just slightly, revealing the curve of your breast, “I think you might want me to.” Dylan raises his eyebrows and swallows, looking in your eyes. “Are you wearing… anything?” he asks quietly. You slowly shake your head and you can feel him tense up, looking down at you with want. You move up to kiss him lightly and whisper, “Sit down,” over his lips.

Dylan immediately sits on his bed and you stand in front of him, toying with the ties of the trench coat. He glances between your hands and your face, chewing on his lip. You keep the coat closed, letting the material slip off of your shoulders. Dylan swallows again, blushing as he starts to get hard. You step closer to him and straddle his lap. He knows you’re sitting on him naked, but you’re careful to still keep everything covered. “Baby,” he mumbles, letting out a soft groan as you grind into him once. You take Dylan’s hand and slowly slip it into the trench coat, letting him squeeze your chest. He hums, leaning in to kiss your jaw. “Please, y/n,” he begs softly. You smile, tilting your head back, “If you want it so bad, why don’t you just take it?” you whisper.

Dylan’s eyes darken and he moans as he kisses you hard, practically ripping the coat open. He pulls back and runs his hands down your body, quickly undoing his jeans. You grin as you watch him, loving how worked up he gets when he wants you. Before you know it you’re bouncing on Dylan, still wearing the coat on your shoulders as you bury your face into his neck to muffle your moans. He’s pulling your hips down hard and fast, muttering obscenities in your ear. You both come and he sighs, kissing you deeply. You pull back and get up after a moment, slipping the coat off. “You’ll need something to wear home,” Dylan murmurs. You smile at him, “Can I borrow some actual clothes?” “Yeah,” he laughs quietly, getting some out for you. You start to pull on the clothes and Dylan grins, “That was.. I mean, that was really…” he just shakes his head. You giggle and walk over, kissing him. You love it when you make him speechless.

Angbang headcanons...long post

Lemme make this clear: I am open to many different Sauron/Melkor dynamics (how/when they got together, who initiates, how they act towards each other, even their personalities although I think there’s common traits we don’t seem to disagree on that much) because there are so many cool variations within the fandom. I’ll say right now though that I really don’t go for any sort of dom/sub or bdsm thing, I find it just unappealing and unrealistic; “how can you say that? it’s already set up in the whole ‘master and servant’ hierarchy!” cause I think psychologically there should and would be a big difference in how they treat others that they view less than themselves -aka torturing prisoners and giving orcs the whip- and how they treat each other, whom they (should) see as equals. I mean, come on, you really think Sauron would ever really be submissive? it’s Sauron, guys. with a threatening raise of the eyebrow Melkor would already be taking a few steps backwards. I feel like this is a thing common with villain ships, and it really shouldn’t be, ok? Just cause they’re baddies doesn’t mean they treat each other the same way they treat the people they don’t like. It’s for that reason that they wouldn’t. They think themselves above the lesser beings that they abuse for amusement. A divide in their mind, if you will, between work life and domestic life. 

anyway. sorry. had to say that. you ship it the way you want, i’m just saying my preferences.


what I was starting to get at was, here’s how I ship them, my own personal headcanons, if you’re ever interested…

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

Rick chewed on his knuckle a bit, shaking his portal gun which had decided not to respond. It probably needed a charge, but Morty was usually in charge of that. Morty was at school so he supposed he'd have to wait until Morty got back and looked up the log to find him. Instead of looking for someone or doing something productive, however, the man sat on the ground, using his sleeve to wipe away the drool from his chin, "When lost you do gotta stay put and w-w-wait for help." ~neutralized-sanchez

Mouse looked confused at this Rick within the sanctuary before smiling “are you alright?” He asked in a gentle tone. His eyes glowing brighter then the Sunshine here. He understood this Rick was neutralized, it was uncommon to see but it was also quite fascinating too.

@neutralized-sanchez
thrice

thrice

summary: Juvia Lockser ran away three times.

pairings: siblings! jellalvia, gruvia, protective older brother jellal…

~

~

~

The first time, she was seven years old. Jellal was three years older than her, and at the time her phobia of the month was being eaten by a coyote, so naturally she asked her karate proficient brother to come along with her.

Jellal had been slightly bored that day, so he reluctantly agreed after she promised not to go into his room for a whole month.

They walked down the block to the Dairy Queen conveniently close to the house they were raised in. They bought matching chocolate dipped cones and let the ice cream drip down their chins in synch with the setting sun, reminiscing past escapades and counting cars that sped by.

It only took them an hour and a half to get bored and walk back home. They received a small scolding for their absence, but went to bed pumped full of chocolate nonetheless.

Those were the simpler days, and Jellal sometimes wished it would be that way once again.

~

~

~

The second time, Juvia was fourteen and had been denied a cell phone for what seemed like the twenty-thousandth time.

Jellal noticed her anger with dull interest, she was but a hormonal teenager who was taking the first step in the long, horrifying journey that was high school.

He hadn’t anticipated her explosion however – perhaps it was a girl thing - and she stormed out of the house with fire in her eyes and stubbornness in her shoes.

About three hours and seven Modern Warfare asswhoopings later, Jellal decided to go after her.

He found her lingering on the roof of the warehouse where they kept sleds on the winter - something they both ought to have grown out of but refused to – so it technically wasn’t running away, but she wasn’t in the house, so it sort of counted.

She had been crying, her messy eyeliner which had yet to improve was smudged across her brow bone messily and ground into her sweatshirt sleeve. He ignored her haphazardly glare and sat down next to her, brushing pine needles off of his sneakers and sighing, a telltale indication that he was ready to listen, if she was ready to tell.

“Everybody has a phone but me.” She globalized, fisting her hands and lightly punching the hollow plastic shed.

“Pretty much.” He agreed, although his phone wasn’t really anything special in the first place.

“You’re not helping,” she glared.

“I didn’t come here to help.” He rationalized, handing her something he had been holding.

She peered into her hand to examine the object he had smuggled her.

“What…is this?” she pondered, rolling the item back and forth between her palms.

“Aw, come on. You know what it is.” He baited.

“Is this a walkie-talkie?” she deadpanned, holding the object like it was an ancient fossil.

“Yup. You remember? We used to take them to the children’s museum and interfere with other people’s signals.” He reminded.

“Where’s the other one?” She asked flatly.

He held up the walkie-talkie’s twin and pocketed it once more. Juvia raised a slightly-black eyebrow.

“So you can call me, when you need to call someone else. It’s a three-way call system. Completely foolproof.” Jellal strategized.

“Foolproof, huh?” She drawled, tapping the walkie-talkie against the warehouse roof testily.

“You bet. Mom won’t know what hit her. Watch this.” He began, retrieving his walkie-talkie and turning it to channel four. “Juvia?”

To humor him, she turned hers to the same station and held it up to her ear. “Jellal?”

He cleared his throat, like he was about to deliver the state of the union address. “Guess what?”

Juvia bit back a smile. “What?”

“I LOVE YOUUUUUU, BABY SISTER!”

She crackling sound of Jellal’s voice tenfold over the walkie-talkie almost fractured Juvia’s ear drum, and she hucked the ancient device at his face.

“Gross! I hate you, you crackbaby!” She pushed him in the direction of the edge of the shed, hoping that he might topple off and break a few limbs on the way down. Unfortunately, he stayed stationary, a cheesy grin plastered across his smug face.

“Let’s go home, I think dad hid a box of ice cream sandwiches in the freezer…”

“Aw, really? Neopolitan?”

“Is there any other flavor?”

“Good point. Let’s roll.”

~

~

~

The third, and final time Juvia ran away, Jellal was not prepared.

She was too young. Only twenty-three years old, and he’d be damned to hell and back when he finally accepted it.

“Jellal, you look angry.” Erza, Jellal’s fiancé, pressed, tugging at his arm impaciently. He had no doubt in his mind that the frown on his face was visible, and he honestly didn’t give a shit.

“Yes, well – I have every right to be!” He sputtered, folding his arms together like a jealous toddler.

It was a good thing Erza had such a tight grip on him, because he really would’ve managed to sneak that shotgun in if it wasn’t for her snooping.

“Your sister is getting marriedbehave, dammit.” She growled. He wouldn’t have heeded her if she hadn’t have looked so good in that bridesmaid dress – deep purple did so much for her it was ridiculous.

But it didn’t change the fact that his tiny, itty-bitty baby sister, was being given away to another man.

“Jellal,” Erza repeated, “You promised her you wouldn’t freak out.”

Jellal gritted his teeth. Dammit – she was right, she had even bribed him with dark chocolate M&M’s. He had eaten every last piece the night before, stressing over the fact that that bastard Gray Fullbuster would have his disgusting hands all over his sister in a matter of hours.

That asshole didn’t deserve her. Even Gray himself had admitted it – but he still asked her to marry him, and she still agreed, more than happily.

“Stop looking so grumpy and assist the groom.” Erza instructed. Right – because he was a groomsman, to his knowledge, only because Juvia had requested it. What he and Gray had was barely beyond mild tolerance, on Gray’s part. What Jellal harbored for Gray was considered to be other-worldly hatred that originated from the depths of hell itself.

Jellal watched Gray get ready, fumbling with notecards and mumbling words under his breath repetitively over, and over again. Psh. If he really loved Juvia, he would’ve memorized them weeks ago.

“Hey,” Natsu, Gray’s best friend, asked him, minutes before the ceremony began. “You ready?”

Gray nodded nervously. “I am.”

Jellal bit the inside of his mouth until it bled.

Standing up at the altar and watching his sister walk down the aisle, absolutely breathtaking and everything an older brother didn’t want in a sister, was the most bittersweet thing he’d experienced to this point in his life.

She was happy – mind blowingly, spine-crumblingly happy, and he couldn’t stop it, not with all the threats, blackmail, and shotguns a brother could conjure up to frighten away possible suitors. He had lost, and she had won.

He would argue that he had let her win though, because despite his protective instincts, what mattered most was her happiness.

Gray, save a few nervous laughs and anxious stutters, seemed just as excited. If he had been anything less, Jellal would’ve had to kill him.

He made secret eye contact with Erza throughout the wedding vows as he listened closely, reminding himself that this would be him in a matter of months. Erza must’ve been thinking the same, because she was smiling wryly like she always did whenever they were on the same page.

And suddenly, with the words of a preacher, his sister became somebody else’s.

With a hardly appropriate for church kiss, Gray swept her away to the limo, completely forgetting about the rest of the guests in the swirly haze of being newlyweds. Typical kids. At the reception, people shared speeches and stories, and Jellal swirled his glass ambiguously, Erza’s hand never leaving his shoulder and his never leaving her waist. Juvia’s smile lit up the whole room.

Later into the night, surprisingly enough, jellal managed to snag th groom, alone.

With the few minutes he had before Juvia would inevitably find him and knee him in he balls for intimidating her husband, Jellal gave Gray a friendly shove against the wall and held him there.

“Listen up,” he started, praying that Erza would only be a few minutes in the bathroom. “You got three seconds to convince me that you’ll make her happy, or I make sure you’ll have no need to wear pants any longer.”

Gray gulped before speaking. “I love her.”

It was simple, and sweet, despite what Jellal would’ve liked to believe. He released him, his shoes hitting the floor with a plop.

“Fine,” Jellal warned, “but if I find out you’re nothing but talk, so help me god-“

Jellal!”

Juvia’s wail of protest cut off his brotherly speech.

“What did you promise me about threats?” She asked sternly.

“…Not to.”

Exactly. Did he hurt you?” She asked in a concerned voice to her spouse.

“He…heh, no. We’re all good. Brother-in-law” Gray explained, attempting to throw in a good-natured joke at the end.

“Don’t go there.” Jellal said flatly.

“Good.” Juvia nodded firmly. “Behave.” She pointed a finger at Jellal and looked around for Erza to enforce her ruling.

“Also, Gray, if you get my sister pregnant too early, I’ll strangle you to death with your own scrotum.” Jellal reminded.

“I’ll keep that in mind.” Gray said with a nod.

“God, dammit Jellal, what’d I just say? C’mon, tell me-“

“I am behaving! It’s just a  word of warning!”

“Oh, shut up! You’re weirding everybody out, where in god’s name is Erza when you need her?” Juvia moaned, and like speaking of the devil, Erza surfaced from the bathroom, face unreadable.

“Erza! Thank god! Put a leash on him, will you?” Juvia begged, shoving Jellal’s arm into her hands.

“I will,” Erza said, voice whispery and very un-Erza like. “Also I’m pregnant.”

I did a family au