guy is nervous

Goodbye. (Seungcheol Ficlet) [A]

THIS ANON REQUESTED THIS AND I A SEUNGCHEOL BIASED WAS BASICALLY KILLING MYSELF TOO. OMG SO OKAY. It took me a lot of guts before i posted this just so you know guys I am so NERVOUS mainly bcsI don’t want to ruin this blog reputation for writing good goods (shameless may it seem but i am a fan of the admins too so lol hahahaha) I’M SO SORRY BECAUSE THIS IS REALLY SHITTY AND this is just my second time posting a scenario (and it’s mah baby seungcheol again lol) and and and fck really i’m just really nervous and rlly not confident abt this so anw.

I was scrolling through the request box and I saw this and was feeling angst-y that night so why not try is what i thought. this is really short tho. (I’M SORRY) I wanted to post something as a thank you for you guys heh we love you~

Thanks to Admin Kate for editing this one and adding a lot of those dramatic shts that i really can’t express.Thank you btch love u ♥ And also the [words like these] are lyrics from I.O.I’s Downpour, credits yes. so here you go~~ i’m sorry for the grammar mistakes and my shtty writings.

-Admin Kenvy

Warnings: contains death and shitty writing..

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anonymous asked:

OMG you guys made me so nervous about 6x10 and season sex that now Im having strange dreams. Yesterday I dreamed that Carrie and Quinn had sex but it was just Carrie dreaming. Helpppp! 😭

😱😱😱   OMFG you guys constantly outdo yourselves coming up with new scenarios that would totally suck!!!

🚫   Stay away! You’re jinxing season sex!!!

I’m not sure how I feel about the new dresses. And am I right in drawing Chloe with pink in her hair? Because that’s what it looks like.

Summary: During Digestivo. Hannibal prepares himself & an unconscious Will for their final conversation. 

Hannibal carried him inside. Chiyoh offered to help. He was tired, after all. Frozen and bloodied, hair mopped to the side of his face, shoulders tense and stiff from having been tied back. But he refused, a silent shake of his head and Chiyoh backed away. Walked to the field, rifle in hand. He allowed himself a moment to appreciate her. How, wordlessly, she knew. This was something he must do alone.

Will lay slumped in the backseat, arms limp on the floor. Dead weight. Hannibal felt the same strain he had the night before when he carried him, though he no longer had adrenaline fueling his body. He brought Will, slow, up the steps, across the porch, over the threshold, reveling in every second of pain the twinge in his back sent lighting up his spine.

Hannibal laid Will down delicate onto his bed. Careful not to wake him with too much movement. Fearing he might break.

He’d need some time to think. Prepare. More time than Will’s body was unconsciously willing to give, so he gave two gentle flicks to the syringe, a steady gentle pressure on the plunger, and Will’s sleep took on a far more tranquil rhythm. He drifted deeper. Hannibal, finally, exhaled.

He took a step back, took a moment. Contemplated the door. It stood open behind him, winter chill seeping in through the gap. And then there was the car. Chiyoh. The ease with which he could disappear. It was, he knew, the most practical option. He could make his way to the coast and set sail, heading someplace quiet and obscure, somewhere Will would surely never find him. He’d have to leave quickly in order to get far enough. He’d have to leave now. Hannibal’s eyes, resting on the doorknob, flicked back to the bed. To Will’s pillow flattened curls, the iron streaks of dried blood along his jawline.

He shut the door quietly, though he knew Will was sedated. Nodded to Chiyoh through the window and set to work. 

He took care of himself first, Will’s shower rattling to life, blood peeling off him here and there, ripping off soaking bandages. Ignoring, as best he could, the cold and awful weight inside his chest. The feeling of his lungs filling with water. Water stinging sharp against the brand on his back, the burn raw, white hot pain in every corner of his body.

Deep, drying breaths. Hannibal redressed himself, his wounds. Turned his attention to Will. He undressed him as slowly as time would allow, fingers gliding over skin with each gentle tug of fabric. Placed a cloth over what Will would not want him to see, wrestling down the urge to look. He’d never looked before and he wouldn’t now, Will was worth more than that. Although.

Hannibal sat up straight and felt, all around him, a tension. An uncomfortable air of finality. A penultimate afternoon. He looked back down at Will.

This could very well be his last chance to look. Admire.

Still, he didn’t. He did allow himself one thing, though, face in the crook of Will’s neck. A deep, slow inhale. Committing the scent to memory, locking it in its own room near the center of his mind, before he began with the water.

There were parts of Will still caked in blood from days prior, places Mason’s men hadn’t taken care of. Patches of rough blood stuck to the skin on his chest, stomach, spilt from where Hannibal had opened his head. He couldn’t deny the bizarre amusement he felt cleaning up the fallout from something he had inflicted, though of course, with Will, it wasn’t the first time. His eyes narrowed as his musings led him to the terrible realization that this would, in fact, be the last time. 

Dabbing gently with warm water, watching close as beads of it rolled across Will’s hips, dripping off his waist. Hannibal changed the bandages on Will’s shoulder. Cleaned the wound across his forehead. Slow and somehow far too quick. He took his deliberate time pressing Will dry with a towel, dressed him up again in warm and comfortable clothes. Smoothing the hair across his forehead, resting his fingers against Will’s face.

He knew this would be the last time. Of course he knew. The last time his hands would grip his face. The last time he’d lay him down onto a bed. Hannibal closed his eyes and lived, for only a fraction of a second, in a world where the opposite was true. Where these actions were the first of many times.

…It was still possible. A tiny sliver of possibility rested inside Will, the chance that his journey sparked a deeper understanding of the truth of him, the truth of Hannibal. How those truths fit together.

But then there was the truth of the bullet wound in Will’s shoulder. The ugly scar across his head. The reality of their situation sat thick at the back of Hannibal’s throat, cold in his stomach.

This was the last time.

So, he cleaned up. Discarded old bandages, positioned Will comfortably, carried a chair to his bedside. Hannibal flipped to a new page in his journal, pausing to open the levy, let icy dread flood through his veins and into his pen. Worked, diligent, at solving the problem that teacups and time had laid out before him.

HDM month | week 3: favourite relationship

Lyra & Will

“She could see from his eyes that he knew at once what she meant, and that he was too joyful to speak. Her fingers were still at his lips, and he felt them tremble, and he put his own hand up to hold hers there, and then neither of them could look; they were confused; they were brimming with happiness.”

@rizascupcakes I finished it!!!! Listen, with all the magic in their world, there’s gotta be some way for people to make “photos” of some sort.

Fractal

Summary: Chaos, besides its own natures, has a little order on it. Chaos, without order, leads to destruction itself. When the object holding the chaos of the world is damaged, maybe a little more than order is going to be needed to fix it. Abomination! AU

AO3


Chapter 1

Akumas were always weird.

No matter how intimidating they looked on the exterior, their motives were something that, if it weren’t for the fact they were busy trying to protect themselves, would make their victims tilt their head in curiosity. At least Chat, admittedly, had done that several times in the past.

Didnt’t mean those motives were less important for the akumatized person.

Or make them less dangerous.

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[insert lame “boy could hang the stars” line] 

Thank you for 10k followers!!! You’ve shown me a lot of support over the past year, and I can’t even begin to describe how thankful I am for that. You guys are rockstars (/)u(\)

knots in my heart - makebelieveworlds on AO3

Luke didn’t mean to grow attached to Michael. The boy who lived on the other side of town, covered in tattoos and piercings, was only meant to be a way to piss Luke’s dad off for thinking he could control his son’s life. But somewhere between fucking and showing off, the two collide like stars in a galaxy—for better or for worse.

or; Luke struggles with his sexuality as his dad pushes the family business on him, and Michael’s just a boy trying to survive everyday life.

one two three

castypha said: we get it u hate characters with autistic traits

So I found this in reference to my post comparing Eggman and Peridot’s childish tendencies so I wanted to expand on this and talk about Peridot’s autistic coded characteristics specifically. 

I have no issue whatsoever with Peridot having autistic traits! My issue is that over time this portrayal was botched due to the Crew furthering her childish tendencies, infantalizing her, and poor writing in general. The chief example usually paired with this is the deleted scene from Log Date where Peridot is taught about how to eat while sitting in a high chair, but I think a better canon example is Peridot having two comfort objects taken from her (the tape recorder and her tablet respectively). It’s kind of bad when other autistic people need those objects and the show literally tried to destroy both of Peridot’s.

It’s such a shame too because pre-Barn Mates Peridot was a wonderful character! She was smart and showed a willingness to learn about things and seeing her grow as a character was well done and intresting! She even showed a lot of autistic traits but they weren’t infantilizing her! A good example is her taking things literally or having comfort objects in the form of her recorder and tablet (at least before… y’know). Now it just feels like she’s used for bad comic relief and all the development and character she did have was either forgotten or flanderized to annoying degrees. 

Some better examples of characters with Autism would be Symetra from Overwatch and Julia from Seasame Street, both flat out stated to be autistic too boot! Likewise I’ll list a few posts here and here where I based some points here on. Hope this explains things!