heart beat line

Okay, so a list of things about this Spottedleaf’s Heart shit.

  • Spottedkit wants to be a warrior/deputy/leader even though in BP she wanted to be a medicine cat, and literally begged Featherwhisker to take her on as an apprentice after Goosefeather retired. 
  • The Hunters begin pushing this relationship literally within the first day of Spottedpaw’s apprenticehood. Like, the first day. Possibly even before that.
  • Day 465 and Thrushpelt still deserves better.
  • Spottedpaw, somehow, was there for the attack on Tiny and Bluestar giving away her kits, because everyone needs to be present for everything apparently.
  • Thistleclaw was completely dedicated to Snowfur in BP, but here decides to flirt with a literal child who is younger than his son.
  • No build up to why they like each other, by the way, they just do.
  • Like half a month into her apprenticeship and Thistleclaw starts dramatically declaring how he cares about her and doesn’t ever want to disappoint her and what the actual fuck happened to the earnest but aggressive warrior we knew and hated?
  • Thistleclaw is described as prompting Spottedpaw into confessing her “feelings”. Not creepy at all, Hunter.
  • He also gets angry when she speaks out against his opinions and forces her to apologize every time she tries to stand up for anything in the beginning. 
  • Spottedleaf falling for an apprentice in the future is somehow made even darker than it was before with this new novella’s context. 
  • Why did the Dark Forest have to make another appearance? 
  • There is a cat named Hound-. I don’t know why either.
  • The fact that no one would notice their Clanmate is sick enough to be skin and bones at least sets up why no one notices Ravenpaw being bullied by Tigerclaw.
  • Lack of transparency continues to ruin everything.
  • The fact that Spottedpaw actively helps hide Bluestar’s departure with her kits means that Spottedpaw is technically an accessory to neglect-murder. Let that shit sink in.
Happy birthday! A sad and poorly written fanfic!

Yuri Plisetsky had the unforgettable eyes of a soldier. That was a thought that had stuck with Otabek, even when Yuri hadn’t even known he existed.

It was what he had been thinking when they first made eye contact at the Grand Prix Finals.

What he had been thinking when he asked if they could be friends.

What he had thought when they kissed for the first time, four year later, on a rink in Saint Petersburg.

What he had thought, even when Yuri’s eyes filled with tears, when he proposed.

That was what he thought now, sitting next to Yuri’s hospital bed, watching his husband’s chest rise and fall.

“O… Otabek…” Yuri’s weak voice was voice was small in the sterile white room.

“Yes Yura? Are you okay? Should I call the nurse?”

“No… I ju-” A coughing fit overtook Yuri. After his body finished shaking, he continued. “I just wanted to say… I love you…”

“I love you, too, my kitten.”

“Beka, this is the end for me…”

Otabek couldn’t hear what Yuri said over his racing heart. “What do you mean, the end?! You’re going to be fine!”

“No, Otabek. I wasn’t asleep all the times you were talking to the doctors. I know what’s going on. Lying to me won’t do anything now.”

He didn’t know who he was lying to more, Yuri or himself. “Yura… you’ve always been an exception. You’re going to be an exception now as well, you have to!”

Yuri squeezed his hand. “Death is only… the next adventure…”

The Russian man’s green eyes were clouded with fever, but were still so strong. Even when faced with the last doorway, Yurio Plisetsky Atlin did not show a hint of fear.

“Beka… I love you…”

“I love you too, kitten.”

The heart beat monitor flat lined.

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

Years later, when Otabek lay in a white bed in a hospital, he looked up at the ceiling and remembered beautiful green eyes. And as lights shone around him, a young man stepped out of the glow. Yuri, looking as young and vital as ever, appeared before him.

Otabek reached a hand out to his beloved, and saw the wrinkles and liver spots fade away, becoming young again.

And as they stepped into the light together, Otabek loked into Yuri’s eyes.

The eyes of a soldier.

The eyes of his soldier.

Cardiophile pickup lines

Putting them together from various websites, I thought you guys might like these:

  • “You get my heart racing like an epinephrine drip.
  • “You’d better be a cardiologist, because something about you makes me want to give you my heart.”
  • “You’re such a QT.”
  • Are you a PVC? Cause my heart skips a beat each time I’m near you.”
  • “You’re the sinoatrial node of my heart. Without you, even a defibrillator won’t save me.”
  • (Hold out a stethoscope) “Why don’t you listen to your heart and go out with me?”

Throwing resus pickup lines in here even though not my thing:

  • “Cute enough to stop your heart, skilled enough to restart it.”
  • “Are you drowning? Because I’m feeling the urge to give you CPR.
Imagine you’re a milkmaid...

Imagine you’re a milkmaid, who delivers the best milk while pregnant and after, because your children need to be well fed. Being one of the best on the farm, your owner has you in a strict breeding program to ensure that your offspring become just as good milk givers as you do, and so you carry one to two calves a year.


This year is different.


The owner’s greedy son has decided you’re not making enough, and comes to take you into the barn earlier than usual, strapping you into a breeding cage and pumping you full of fertility drugs and arousal stimulants. When you begin to whine and moan, he drops his jeans and grabs hold of the cage, fucking into you until he’s emptied load after load into you, satisfying the ache.


He does this for weeks, until your belly is so large and full it drags as you walk, and your large heavy breasts require hourly milking. The owner cant understand it, but the son convinces him to let him take you to the county fair to sell the milk fresh, rather than bottled. The best is the freshest, he tells you, as he locks you in a stock, squeezing and teasing your nipples to release the milk for all the paying customers that come to purchase, and maybe its from weeks of conditioning, or maybe the release of pressure just feels good, but you find  yourself becoming so aroused, unable to do anything.


During a slow in the line at some point the son seems to recognize your discomfort, and smirks as he starts offering you up on the menu as well. Business returns in a heart beat as men line up to have you, and its during one particularly vigorous fucking that you realize the rush you’re feeling isnt cum but your water breaking. You moan and cry out as you feel contractions start to rip through you, both painful and pleasureable as you’re still being fucked. It’s only between customers that they allow you to push the calves out, convinced that if they never let you empty, you’ll always be full.

I want you to bite my lip until I can no longer speak
And then suck my ex-girlfriend’s name out of my mouth just to make sure she never comes up in our conversations
I’m going to be honest, I’m not really a love poet
In fact, every time I try to write about love my hands cramp… just to show me how painful love can be
And sometimes my pencils break, just to prove to me that every now and then love takes a little more work than you planned
See I heard that love is blind so, I write all my poems in Braille
And my poems are never actually finished because true love is endless
I always believed that real love is kind of like a super model before she’s air brushed;
It’s pure and imperfect, just the way that God intended
See I’m going to be honest, I’m not a love poet
But if I was to wake up tomorrow morning and decide that I really wanted to write about love I swear that my first poem…
It would be about you

About how I loved you the same way that I learned how to ride a bike: Scared
But reckless with no training wheels or elbow pads so my scars can tell the story of how I fell for you
You see, I’m not really a love poet
But if I was I’d write about how I see your face in every cloud and your reflection in every window
You see I’ve written like a million poems hoping that somehow maybe someway you’ll jump out of the page and be closer to me
Because if you were here, right now
I would massage your back until your skin sings songs that your lips don’t even know the words to

Until your heartbeat sounds like my last name and you smile like the Pacific Ocean
I want to drink the sunlight in your skin
If I was a love poet
I’d write about how you have the audacity to be beautiful
Even on days when everything around you is ugly
You see I’d write about your eyelashes and how they are like violin strings that play symphonies every time you blink

If I was a love poet
I’d write about how I melt in front of you like an ice sculpture
Every time I hear the vibration in your voice so whenever I see your name on the caller ID my heart
It plays hopscotch inside of my chest
Yo it climbs onto my ribs like monkey bars and I feel like a child all over again
I know this sounds strange but every now and then I pray that God somehow turns you back in to one of my ribs…
Just so that I would never have to spend an entire day without you

I swear, I’m not a love poet
But if I was to wake up tomorrow morning and decide that I really wanted to write about love
My first poem it would be about you
And after all of that she was like, so how do you feel about me?
And I said, put it like this:
I want to be your ex boyfriend’s stunt man. I want to do everything that he never had the courage to do like… trust you

I swear that when our lips touch I can taste the next sixty years of my life
And some days I want to swallow stacks of your pictures just so you can be a part of me for a little bit longer
If I could I would sample your smile and then I would let my heart beat
Do the bass line, we would create the greatest love song of all time
Whenever, we stand next to each other, love I was the only one made for you and you can be at last my Etta James
I’ll be oh child when you’re in pain or you could be candy coated drops of rain
Even though it never rains in Southern California
And together, we could be music

And when my friends ask if you’re my girlfriend
I’ll say no
She is my musician
And me… I’m her favorite song

—  Rudy Francisco

my most recent snapchat

I want you to bite my lip until I can no longer speak
And then suck my ex-girlfriend’s name out of my mouth just to make sure she never comes up in our conversations.
I’m going to be honest, I’m not really a love poet
In fact, every time I try to write about love my hands cramp… just to show me how painful love can be.
And sometimes my pencils break, just to prove to me that every now and then love takes a little more work than you planned.
See I heard that love is blind so, I write all my poems in Braille.
And my poems are never actually finished because true love is endless.
I always believed that real love is kind of like a super model before she’s air brushed;
It’s pure and imperfect, just the way that God intended.
See I’m going to be honest, I’m not a love poet.
But if I was to wake up tomorrow morning and decide that I really wanted to write about love I swear that my first poem…
It would be about you

About how I loved you the same way that I learned how to ride a bike: Scared.
But reckless with no training wheels or elbow pads so my scars can tell the story of how I fell for you.
You see, I’m not really a love poet
But if I was I’d write about how I see your face in every cloud and your reflection in every window.
You see I’ve written like a million poems hoping that somehow maybe someway you’ll jump out of the page and be closer to me.
Because if you were here, right now
I would massage your back until your skin sings songs that your lips don’t even know the words to.

Until your heartbeat sounds like my last name and you smile like the Pacific Ocean.
I want to drink the sunlight in your skin.
If I was a love poet
I’d write about how you have the audacity to be beautiful
Even on days when everything around you is ugly.
You see I’d write about your eyelashes and how they are like violin strings that play symphonies every time you blink.

If I was a love poet
I’d write about how I melt in front of you like an ice sculpture.
Every time I hear the vibration in your voice so whenever I see your name on the caller ID my heart
It plays hopscotch inside of my chest
Yo it climbs onto my ribs like monkey bars and I feel like a child all over again
I know this sounds strange but every now and then I pray that God somehow turns you back in to one of my ribs…
Just so that I would never have to spend an entire day without you

I swear, I’m not a love poet
But if I was to wake up tomorrow morning and decide that I really wanted to write about love
My first poem it would be about you
And after all of that she was like, so how do you feel about me?
And I said, put it like this:
I want to be your ex girlfriend’s stunt man. I want to do everything that she never had the courage to do like… trust you.

I swear that when our lips touch I can taste the next sixty years of my life
And some days I want to swallow stacks of your pictures just so you can be a part of me for a little bit longer.
If I could I would sample your smile and then I would let my heart beat
Do the bass line, we would create the greatest love song of all time.
Whenever, we stand next to each other, love I was the only one made for you and you can be at last my Etta James
I’ll be oh child when you’re in pain or you could be candy coated drops of rain.
Even though it never rains in Southern California
And together, we could be music.

And when my friends ask if you’re my girlfriend
I’ll say no
She is my musician
And me… I’m her favorite song

Kagerou Dialogue
Fire Emblem: Fates
Kagerou Dialogue

For the anon who loves the girls <3!

She’s like a female version of Suzukaze. Or is he a male version of her? Aha, either way both of them are really polite and business-like. Disclaimers as usual.

Keep reading

She was gifted with
the sweetest  flowery scent
and rose-colored smile

surmising sunrise
of this beautiful morning
in one dreamy glance

a few hearts beating
in line for her to break with
her rose-colored smile

unaware of her
rosy blushes tainting the
summer’s red blossoms

she kept scribbling in
her poetic thoughts as she smiled
her rose-colored smile

— 

thoughtfulsage - Rose-Colored Smile

Originally posted by mariemonte

Closed Door

Sorry for this. Blame @joeyskinnyleg for encouraging it tho.

Joe reaches out blindly, wanting the shrill noises of his alarm to shut up so he could go back to sleep. Yet he can’t find his phone, and is thus forced to open his eyes, blinking into the dark room as he looks around for it.

And as his sleep ridden mind begins to wake up, he realizes that it wasn’t his alarm, that or he’s changed it.

Maybe Y/N used it… He thinks to himself as his eyes land on the glowing square resting half under a blanket down the bed. As he pulls it towards himself, he frowns, noticing that it’s actually a phone call, from an unknown number.

Wondering why someone would be calling him so early in the morning, Joe fumbles to answer it before it disappears.

“Hello?” He runs a hand through his hair, his mind only imagining what it looks like. Knowing he has to get up anyways, he has an early flight to catch, he swings his legs over the edge of his bed.

“Hello. Is this Joseph Sugg?” A crisp, formal voice carries through to him.

“Speaking.” Joe replies, stumbling over to his bathroom. He squints at the brightness of the light, regretting turning it on.

“Hello. This is Constable Allen.” Joe freezes at that, fear rooting him to the spot. “I’m at The Royal London Hospital.”

“No.”

“We brought in a young woman, who has been identified as a Y/N Y/L/N, and you were listed under her emergency contacts.” Joe feels as if his world was falling from under him, and he grips the counter next to him tightly, willing himself to breath, to listen to what the man on the phone was saying. “There was an accident. She has gone into surgery, so I’m unable to tell you more information, but if you come down to the hospital, the nurses and doctor will be able to reveal more.”

“Is she—” Joe breaks off for a moment, “Is she alive?”

“When she went in, yes. I’m very sorry to wake you up with this news…”

“No. Thank you. Thank you for calling.” Joe stutters over his words, saying a quick goodbye before he hangs up. He can feel the hardness of the floor as his knees hit it, but it doesn’t register in his brain as he wraps his arms around his waist, bent over and gasping for air.


A minute later though, he shakes his head and forces himself back onto his feet, into the bedroom where he throws some clothes on.

After he orders a car, he grabs his keys and jacket, calling Oli as he rushes down the stairs.

“Heeey! You calling to tell us you’re coming out anyways?!” Oli’s voice greets him, the sound of the club and the other boys almost overtaking his words.

“Y/N’s in the hospital.”

“What?”

“There was an accident. I’m on my way. I don’t know what happened.”

“Shit. Right. Which one?”

“Royal.”

“We’ll meet you there.” Oli tells him, and Joe wipes at his eyes quickly, trying to clear the tears that are pooling there. “Hey, Joe.”

“What?” He’s half listening, his eyes darting back and forth on the street, waiting for the headlights of his car to appear.

“She’ll be okay.”

“I really hope you’re right, Oli.” Joe mumbles, saying goodbye as his car pulls up.


“I’m sorry.” The doctor tells Joe, placing a hand on the young man’s shoulder. “Right now, all we can do is wait.”

“She’s going to be okay though?” Joe’s voice is small, and he feels like a child. The boys are all sitting on the other side of the waiting room, waiting for Joe to finish speaking with the doctor so he can tell them what’s going on.

“At this point, to be honest, we aren’t sure. She attained some intense injuries during the crash, it’s a matter of if her body and mind are strong enough to pull through. We are doing everything we can to ensure she is comfortable, and doing our best to help her, but there is little that can be done at this point.”

“Can I see her?”

“I’ll have a nurse come grab you in a while. They are just transferring her to a room now. Again, I’m sorry. Is there anyone we can call? For her or you?”

Joe shakes his head, closing his eyes briefly for a moment. “No, uhm, it’s fine. I’ll manage. Thank you.”

The doctor nods before he turns and walks back through the doors, down into the hallway of patients. Joe takes a moment, clenching and unclenching his fists as he stares at the door, before he finally forces himself to turn and cross the room, back to the waiting boys.

“Well?” Oli encourages after Joe has sunk into a seat.

“They aren’t sure.”

“Aren’t sure of what?” Caspar asks, worry laced through his tone.

“If she’ll—” Joe closes his eyes, letting his head fall back, the words sticking in his throat. “If she’ll make it.”

“Shit.” Josh breathes out, and a heavy silence falls across their group.


No one speaks, not even when a nurse comes out to grab Joe. She tells the others that they can come in small groups after, and the nod, but Joe remains silent as he follows her through the doors and down the hall, every step bringing him closer and closer to Y/N’s room.

“She’s just in there. Feel free to go in whenever.” The nurse offers him a kind smile before she leaves him standing in front of the door.

Joe almost breaks down again, and he hasn’t even seen her yet. But that’s what pushes him forward, forces him to lift a hand to the handle, turning it and opening the door.

When he steps in, the door clicking shut quietly behind him, the world falls from around him again. Because the love of his life is laying on the bed in front of him, but it isn’t the Y/N he knows.

The woman he knows should be smiling and laughing, teasing him for being an old man because he had opted out of going out with them that night. All because he had an early flight. He had told her to still go out, go have fun with the boys. He wasn’t worried, she could take care of herself, and the boys would look after her as well.

But now, now she lay on the bed in front of him, wires and tubes running from her body to various machines. An oxygen mask was placed over her mouth, rasping as it pushed air into her lungs. There was bruises and bandages across her exposed skin, and her skin was pale.

It was not the woman he loved.

Joe’s eyes move to the machine that are monitoring her heart beat, watching the line rise and fall steadily. But its weak, even he can tell that.

He knows he’s crying, he can faintly feel the wetness on his cheeks, but he ignores it as he forces himself to move forward, one foot in front of the other, until he’s by her side. Reaching out a hand, Joe takes Y/N’s cold one in his, giving it a squeeze.

“Love, I’m here. Missed my flight, though. Typical, huh?” He lets out a wet laugh, falling into the chair beside her bed, his grip tightening on her hand. “Y/N, I love you. And I know you can do this. I know you can make it through this.”

And as his eyes drift back to the heart monitor, he watches as the peaks get further apart. His breath catches as his eyes widen, the flat line drawing out, a piercing noise filling the room.

Suddenly, there is bodies in the room surrounding her. Gentle hands are tugging at him, and Joe tries to resist, he calls out to Y/N, willing her to open her eyes. But soon there is too many bodies around her to see, and he’s pulled out of the room.


And all he can see is the door to her room closing in front of him.

maybe she says she likes you coz she’s too kind to tell she don’t.
maybe she only says she can but the thing is. she really won’t.
maybe there’s really no love at all
maybe she would never really fall
though words are sweetest to the ears
actions makes a heart beat.
between the lines are truth that words could never beat
actions never lie she knows we’ll never fit. -km