heaviest thing ever


standalone; pg-13; fluff + angst; msr; through the years;  

A/N: This got a little away from me. They’re not all piggy back rides, sorry! But the sentiment is there. Send me prompts!!!



He laughs at her silently for a full five minutes before he figures he should help her. Besides, he’s depending on a breeze just as much as she is. The basement office A.C. unit is never a priority for the maintenance staff. 

Would it be possible, really, for him to tell her to move out of the way so that he could open the window himself? Maybe. Would it be nearly as fun? No way in hell.

She reacts predictably when he sneaks up behind her and grabs her by the waist. She kicks at him even as he’s hoisting her in the air, a squirming, seething, five-two mess, but she dutifully unlocks the basement window and shoves at the panes while she shouts out curses from above him. 

He stalls for a moment with her in the air because it’s pissing her off and, honestly, disturbingly, he enjoys the closeness. But he’s very careful to keep his distance when he sets her down, backing away in record time. 

He lets her cuss him out and stomp around the office in her best She-Hulk impression, but it’s hard to miss the little curve of her lips and the light in her eyes. 



He’s wired on sheer gratitude right now. Nothing else could explain his ability to throw the dead weight of his naked partner over his shoulder and plow steadily over the icy terrain, when just moments ago he was succumbing to a certain frozen death.

He’s just so happy to see her. She’s so small, though his fatigue makes her the heaviest thing he’s ever carried. There is no where for them to go, but he is dead-set on carrying her until they find shelter or they freeze to death where he’s standing, with her curled over his back like a sack of potatoes.

He spots a watch tower in the distance. 



If she wants to kill him, let her. The blood on her shirt is seeping through his own and for a second too long he’d been so sure her heart was gone, her heart, that important little piece of muscle that he relies on a hell of a lot more than she does.

She doesn’t fight him, though. She clings to his arms like a straight jacket. In his haze of selfless selfishness he realizes that there are agency issues at play and he wants to give her a choice for once, so he transfers her onto his back and feels too much when her legs wrap around his waist.



Their tentative foray into physical intimacy has meant a lot of things, to his soul and to his dick, but mostly it means she can relax around him now. She has this laugh that used to make an appearance about once a year, his absolute favorite cryptozoological creature, but now he hears it once a day. 

And they touch, too, not those desperate little end-of-the-world touches, not even just sexually, but they hold hands during out of office lunch breaks and sleep on each other in planes – on purpose

Today she’s helping him clean his bedroom because she trips every time she stays the night. The frustrated edge to her voice, the one that used to infuriate him but now just makes him smile, owes to his refusal to throw anything out.

“This magazine is thirteen years old!” She huffs out, jerking it wildly in the air. The movement causes the centerfold to fall out and her eyes do that twitching thing she does when she can’t believe this is her life.

“It’s a collectible,” he shrugs. She lets out a heavily put-upon sigh and throws it in the keeper box. Time for a break, then. 

“C’mon, Scully,” he nods his head to the door and moves to get up. “I bought some of that unsweet tea sacrilege and a frozen pizza.” 

“Lucky me,” she grumbles, rolling her neck until she hears a satisfying crack and getting up to follow him into the kitchen.

There’s a sudden all-consuming need to hear that laugh just once today, along with the bittersweet realization he’ll probably never get to carry her over any threshold. Her back is to him as she leans against the counter, taking greedy gulps of her disgusting plain leaf water, and she barely even startles when he scoops her up from her knees. 

“Mulder,” she warns. Ooh, those are some cold eyes, Scully. He smiles at her dumbly like she’s a fairground prize he’s escorting out of the themepark. “Mulder.”

“Nice to see you, Scully. Come here often?”

She does the twitch thing again. Then her arms thrust out resignedly, and she demands: “Your back.” Mulder doesn’t waist any time, her knees cradled under the backs of his elbows, and oh, yes, there is that laugh again.



Sometimes he carries her like that out of the car and into motel rooms because half-asleep is the only way she’ll let him.



Her fidgeting is distracting only because she never does that. The sight of it is extraterrestrial in nature. The rocking chair she’s abusing is making stumpy little noises against the raw wood and Mulder needs her to stop before she leaves scuff marks. 

“Mulder, what if he doesn’t like the mattress we picked out?” She asks in a watery voice. “Maybe it’s too soft.”

“It’s not too soft,” he says patiently.

He should be watching the winding driveway but he keeps his eyes on her, worried that she might topple over. He puts his hand over the one that’s clenching around the armrest and they both look out in front of them. 

When a little car finally pulls through the gate, just barely in their eyesight, he wants to start fidgeting, too. But he forces himself to stand up on shaky legs and brings her up with him.

They can’t bring themselves to stand there on the porch when he’s right there, can’t bring themselves to spend one more moment wishing he’d come to them. No, they’d come to him.

But her legs are too wobbly. She almost trips down the steps and he needs an excuse to stop himself from crying anyway, so when her feet hit the ground he’s bending over and pulling her to him. He is sick with relief when she takes the hint and climbs up on his back, and they stay that way the whole walk there, right until they meet that little car in the middle. 

Laid Bare

Summary:  Agent Belle French’s employers believe that small town businessman Rumford Gold is more then he appears and is actually the notorious Spinning Wheel Thief a menace that’s caused trouble for years.  Belle is inclined to agree with them; until she slips into the cover of Lacey Avonlea, a stripper working at his club the Golden Thread.  Her mission demands she get close enough to prove his guilt, but her heart tells her he’s innocent.

Rating: NC-17

AN:  Written for May 2017′s @a-monthly-rumbelling smutty prompt: strip club.  A big thank you to @still-searching47 for listening to me complain while I wrote and to @handwithquill for helping me during the planning process.  You’re both wonderful!  This is a prompt verse, if anyone would like to see more just let me know!

Personally, if given a choice, Belle would not have chosen to go undercover as a stripper; but she hadn’t been given a choice, she’d been given an order.  That’s how she found herself in a dimly lit room on stage, undulating her half naked body in front of far too many eyes for her liking. At least the business she was in wasn’t anything like the images that were conjured up when someone said the words strip club.  It was high end, clean, safe, with almost as many bouncers as there were girls and the bar served some of the most expensive alcohol Belle had ever seen.

That made sense though; it was after all the place where all of Rumford Gold’s ill-gotten gains were laundered through.  A dingy dive wouldn’t have been a realistic cover for the kind of money he made stealing and trading in the fine art and jewels he was able to pilfer.  Belle silently stared out into the crowed as she danced.  Her eyes never left her employer/target as he did his business in his personal booth; the sultry look on her face hiding the swirling thoughts plaguing her mind.

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Would you notice a heart beat
when it is right against your chest?
So sure and timed with your own. 
So full of folly and hope.

And would you notice its absence?
Would you feel that the emptiness
is the heaviest thing you’ve ever carried?
Would it make a difference?

When it’s all said and done you’ll
remain ashes to a burnt out flame.
Always waiting for another one to take
a match to your sadness. To make you
a person again.

Would you change after that?
Would you try to love better;
try to origami your tender heart to
fit into her palm. Would you care for her?
Or would you even notice a girl,
bent like a willow weighed with snow?

—  s.r., a willow weighed with snow
They told him “Nothing last forever.”
So Nothing’s what he left to find.
He filled his heart with giant cobwebs
And pushed the thoughts out from his mind.
Dropped all the things that ever hurt him
Then dropped the things he cared for too.
For they say “Nothing’s worth the pain”
And pain was all he ever knew.
He picked bouquets of silence,
Wore the shadows as a coat,
Then used their inky darkness
When on the empty air he wrote:
“My whole life I’ve chased Nothing.
For it I have Nothing to show
I’ve got Nothing in my heart
And there is Nothing I know.
But I’d give Everything for Something
That could erase what I’ve been told.
For emptiness is the heaviest thing
I’ve ever had to hold.
—  e h

Perciver: Oliver proposes, for anon.

The ring felt like it was burning a hole in his pocket. The tiny little box, wrapped in red velvet, so small it could fit neatly in the palm of his hand and he could still close his fingers around it, was one of the heaviest things he’d ever carried around with him. It wasn’t even a particularly special ring. His mother had offered him the one his grandmother had left when she died, but it was old and glittered with diamonds- too flashy, he knew, for anything his boyfriend would like. The ring that Oliver had bought was simpler, more subdued. He knew that Percy would like it.

The problem was actually giving it to him. Whenever he thought about doing so, his throat ran dry and sweat started to bead on the back of his neck. He’d taken spectacular dives on a broom, plummeted through the air without a second thought to his own safety, but the prospect of asking his long-term boyfriend to marry him was utterly terrifying. They’d gone out to stereotypical ‘nice’ restaurants every other night for the past two weeks; each time, Oliver had intended to propose, and each time, he’d fallen short and lost his courage. At this point, a quiet night at home with a book, listening to the sound of Percy’s quill scratching away as he took care of some extra work, was almost preferable to going out again.

Oliver’s gaze flickered up from the book he’d bee reading to watch Percy, then. He looked incredibly focused, almost bent in half as he leaned over his parchment and wrote, red hair falling into his eyes. He looked beautiful. When he was passionate about something like he was his work, he always did.

“Percy,” Oliver called over without thinking. His hand slid out of his pocket, holding the ring box. Percy looked up, responding to his voice, and Oliver heard himself as if from very far away as he snapped the box open. “Do you want to marry me?”

Percy’s eyes went wide, and he flushed almost as red as his hair, before stuttering out,

“W-well- I mean- yes, Oliver. Yes, I suppose I do.”

Fun Facts About Mars

Mars is a cold desert world, and is the fourth planet from the sun. It is half the diameter of Earth and has the same amount of dry land. Like Earth, Mars has seasons, polar ice caps, volcanoes, canyons and weather, but its atmosphere is too thin for liquid water to exist for long on the surface. There are signs of ancient floods on the Red Planet, but evidence for water now exists mainly in icy soil and thin clouds.

Earth has one, Mars has two…moons of course! Phobos (fear) and Deimos (panic) are the Red Planet’s two small moons. They are named after the horses that pulled the chariot of the Greek war god Ares, the counterpart to the Roman war god Mars.

The diameter of Mars is 4220 miles (6792 km). That means that the Red Planet is twice as big as the moon, but the Earth is twice as big as Mars.

Since Mars has less gravity than Earth, you would weigh 62% less than you do here on our home planet. Weigh yourself here on the Planets App. What’s the heaviest thing you’ve ever lifted? On Mars, you could have lifted more than twice that! Every 10 pounds on Earth only equals 4 pounds on the Red Planet. Find out why HERE.

Mass is the measurement of the amount of matter something contains. Mars is about 1/10th of the mass of Earth.

Mars and Earth are at their closest point to each other about every two years, with a distance of about 33 million miles between them at that time. The farthest that the Earth and Mars can be apart is: 249 million miles. This is due to the fact that both Mars and Earth have elliptical orbits and Mars’ orbit is tilted in comparison with the Earth’s. They also orbit the sun at different rates.

The temperature on Mars can be as high as 70 degrees Fahrenheit (20 degrees Celsius) or as low as about –225 degrees Fahrenheit (-153 degrees Celsius). How hot or cold the surface varies between day and night and among seasons. Mars is colder than Earth because it is farther from the sun.

You know that onions have layers, but did you know that Mars has layers too? Like Earth, Mars has a crust, a mantle and a core. The same stuff even makes up the planet layers: iron and silicate.

Ever wonder why it’s so hard launching things to space? It’s because the Earth has a log of gravity! Gravity makes things have weight, and the greater the gravity, the more it weights. On Mars, things weigh less because the gravity isn’t as strong.

Take a deep breath. What do you think you just breathed in? Mostly Nitrogen, about a fifth of that breath was Oxygen and the rest was a mix of other gases. To get the same amount of oxygen from one Earth breath, you’d have to take around 14,500 breaths on Mars! With the atmosphere being 100 times less dense, and being mostly carbon dioxide, there’s not a whole lot of oxygen to breathe in.

Mars has about 15% of Earth’s volume. To fill Earth’s volume, it would take over 6 Mars’ volumes.

For more fun Mars facts, visit HERE.

Make sure to follow us on Tumblr for your regular dose of space: http://nasa.tumblr.com

anonymous asked:

Mark? Where are you?? Why are you chained up???

“Eduardo tried to steal from this guy.” Mark chuckled at the memory. “And I were supposed to talk to the guy so he wouldn’t notice.” “Long story short, Eduardo dropped the most heaviest thing ever, I tried to knock him out but he grabbed me and and here we are!”

30 Day Writing Challenge!

Title: The Beginning

Rating: T

Summary: It’s shouldn’t be this hard, it’s Kageyama!

so I wanted more trans!hinata and wanted to do a writing challenge? so I decided to put the two together and make it happen. not gonna post one every day because I’m a busy person who needs inspiration to punch her in the face before she opens Word, but I’ll try to keep it pretty frequent! The summary makes it look lighter than it is, this is actually kind of heavy, probably the heaviest thing I’ve ever written. It was really hard…

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For @jinglegavins :)

Klavier bought the ring on a Saturday. It was warm out, breezy, without a cloud in the sky. The bag in his hand was no bigger than a paperback novel, but it felt like the heaviest thing he’d ever carried to his car.

He’d decided on the “what” - a proposal, of course. Now all that remained was deciding on the “when,” and more importantly the “how.”

He couldn’t wait a second longer after he’d gotten to his car, and he pulled the box out after he’d sat in the driver’s seat. The navy velvet was soft against his palm, and he cradled it reverently for a moment before taking out his cell phone and pulling up Apollo’s name in the contacts. 

“Schatzi,” he said with a grin when a familiar voice answered. “What do you say you join me for dinner tonight?”

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8:00 pm sharp, is what he had written in the note he had sent to Zephyr via an avox before hastily getting dressed and heading for the spot also mentioned in the note. Kai had contemplated renting out the entire Capitol plaza for the big night, but he knew the escort would be more comfortable with people around, even if they were strangers. Plus, the Gazette could have a field day with them being out in public for all of Panem to see. His hands shook nervously as he began to grow impatient for his boyfriend’s arrival. 

The fountain behind him was running, light purple bulbs glowing from beneath the surface of the water collecting in the bottom. The statue squirting water into the air resembled some sort of horse, which made less and less sense as he stared at it. He had already garnered attention from passerby Capitolites, all likely wondering what a mentor was doing decked in his Sunday best on the streets the night before the Games were predicted to end. Kai didn’t care though. He was there for one reason and one reason only. As he spotted Zephyr in the distance, his heart nearly stopped, his mouth snapped into a smile, and the tiny box in his jacket pocket all of a sudden felt like the heaviest thing he’d ever carried.


In the Way that Mirrors Shatter

Title: In the Way that Mirrors Shatter

Characters/Pairings: Dean x Reader, mention of Sam

Word Count: 815

Summary/Prompt: Imagine Dean’s face when he finds out you made a deal to save Sam, Dean x Reader

Author’s Note: I wrote this all in one go again, and it’s kind short. But it’s one of the emotionally-heaviest things I’ve ever written. I… hope it turned out okay.

Warnings: Self-sacrifice. Angst. Crying. (Probably the darkest thing I’ve written on here, lovelies. Please take the warnings to heart. This story is heavy on all three.)

Tags: @mamaimpala, @winchester11 (if anyone ever wants to be tagged, just let me know)

Dean Winchester is staring at you with a look you’ve never seen before. His eyes are wide, startlingly green, and there’s something… shattered about the slump in his shoulders, his clenched jaw, furrowed brow. Like a mirror that has shattered and is held together only by its frame. He stands across from you on other side of the long table in the bunker, holding a book in his hands.

“You what?” Dean says, his voice somehow both quiet and sharp.

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Literally the heaviest thing norman could ever lift in fallout

Sorry for all the norman doodles, i just am in the mood bc of the stream :P

Based on @mx-bones in fallout (theyre playin as norman) being sup slow from carrying EVERYTHIN LIKE NORMAN FIND UR CHILL U KLEPTOMANIAC JfC

anonymous asked:

In December I was raped, I got pregnant by my rapist, I'm having his twins. I can't tell anyone what he did but, I can't let him around my babies. He is my aunts boyfriend & comes around a lot. Im so lost & confused. Should I tell someone & report it or just act like it never happened? Since I came out about being pregnant I get hate cause I havent told the fathers name. But, If I were to tell anyone Id get even more hate from my family & get kicked out. Im sorry for so much on you, I dont know.

Wow that’s the heaviest thing I’ve ever heard. I don’t really know you but I would probably come clean about everything to someone in your family you trust. I mean you didn’t ask for this it’s not your fault you don’t have to carry his sins around with you in your mind like they’re yours. if your family would kick you out because you got raped I mean what the fuck why would you even want to be near those people.

anonymous asked:

"I don't love you," escaped past Claquesous' scarred lips. It was the heaviest thing he had ever said, and the hardest part of it was that it was a complete lie. But he knew that as long as Ryan was with him, Ryan was in danger. He had found out earlier in the day that the gang planned to retaliate after he resigned. "I've been lying," he sighed. He wanted to cry, but even without his mask on, the criminal was wearing a mask.

Ryan stopped immediately as soon as he heard those words, his expression faltering from the smile he had previously. “What? C'mon Sous, that’s not funny.” He said with a slightly nervous laugh, shaking his head as he stepped towards him to reach for his hand. “I don’t want to joke about that sort of thing…”

I am a personality builder. It is very similar to the concept of a body builder. Except, I do not lift weights, nor do I work out too often. Instead, I lift my self-esteem higher and work out all the angst I have against myself. In life, I realized the heaviest thing I’ve ever carried were my worries. The fat in my stomach was not fat at all, but the distortion and build up of all my self-doubts and insecurities whenever a mirror graced my reflection.
—  “Emotionally Stronger” (D.K.D)