i shouldn't have started this thing why did i start this thing

anonymous asked:

I get that Millennials aren't perfect or absolved of the issues that Boomers have, but shouldn't Boomers tale the brunt of the blame seeing as they are the ones with all the powers in government right now and make up most of the work force? And if there are issues in the Millennial generation, well, who raised us?

Look, I’ve got a long-standing beef with Millennial v. Boomer discourse that I could spend a few hours on, but lemme try to sum it up briefly. 

Many of the modern economic problems that affect many Millennials that are often blamed on Baby Boomers (unemployment/underemployment, soaring costs of education, loan debt, comparative lack of opportunities, poverty, etc. etc.) started well before our generation came of age. Most of these same economic issues fucked up Generation X before us, but because they were a smaller generation, people didn’t hear about it as much. And most of these problems grew directly from right-wing political and economic policies that began in the Reagan presidency in the 1980s, before the Boomers were in political ascendancy. (Yes, there were a few young Boomers in Reagan’s administration, but the leading neocons/neoliberals, using the actual meaning of the term, not the tumblr left’s version of it, who led the move rightward were older.) Boomers, by virtue of their age, enjoyed the unique benefits of the post-War (1945-1980) economy and many managed to escape the worst effects of the Reagan Era cuts, but not all did equally (see below.) And many of them, personally, are total clueless assholes about how unique their experience was. I have Boomer parents born in the early 50s, so like I know.  But one of the biggest problems I have with Millennial/Boomer discourse is that it de-politicizes and de-contextualizes important social/political/economic shifts that were the direct result of Republican policies. It reduces it all to just a generational conflict in which one selfish group of people just didn’t want to share their toys with their kids. And even if you accept the idea that one generation can personally screw over another via political means, the idea that Boomers would target their own children specifically is particularly odd. Though I’ll also point out that the “who raised us” issue is more complex, as the Boomer generation ends in 1964, and quite a lot of people born in the 90s who could still be considered Millennials, have parents born after that. 

As for the idea that Boomers make up the majority of the workforce, actually Millennials are now the largest segment of the workforce, slightly ahead of Gen X, with Boomers well behind. The oldest boomers are 71 now, and the youngest are 53. A lot of the oldest ones have retired and the younger ones are on their way there. X  As for having “all the powers in government” that’s a pretty hard thing to quantify. Trump and many of his key advisers are Boomers, but there are a number of GenX and Millennials too. Which is why I get annoyed at the idea that Millennials are somehow innately more compassionate and kind than older generations, because not really. Millennials overall are more democratic/left leaning than older voters, but Trump still won among white millennials.  Many baby boomers, too, were very liberal in their youth, and became more conservative with age, especially the white ones. It’s a pretty common thing to happen. It’s not as if that fate is going to magically spare our generation, so most of this discourse is not going to age well.

Which brings me to the other issue, that you can legitimately talk about Millennials and Baby Boomers as distinct groups with similar characteristics and experiences. Most of this discourse is highly race and class based but people don’t seem to acknowledge that. It’s focused around the experiences of middle to upper class white boomers and their kids, who presumably don’t have it as easy. And in many cases, this is probably true. Though if you’ve read any financial news in the last few years, they’ve been talking a lot about the huge amount of “wealth transfer” that has started from well-off Boomers to their kids. But for many other Boomers, this wealth never materialized. Plenty of people never had access to it thanks to their race or immigrant status. So the idea that one generation “owns everything” or needs to “take the blame” blurs the fact that within any generation there are huge differences in wealth and access to power.

Basically millennial/boomer discourse is ahistorical, apolitical, and focused on the experiences and expectations of middle class white kids, and that’s why I’m not here for it.

Famous In Love || Part 1

Summary: Tom and reader have been together for a years, but he breaks it off because his career is starting to develop more, unbeknownst that the reader is pregnant with his child.

 Warnings: (Wrap it up guys), Teen Pregnancy, sad, fluff, angst, leaving, giving birth.

 Word Count: 1,853

Pairing: Tom Holland x Reader.

 A/N: First chapter may not be that interesting. Hope you like it. : ) Wanna be tagged just let me know.

~Famous In Love Masterlist~


Falling in Love. 

Many people have a different aspects to it. To you it felt like you were living a dream. A dream where you loved him and he loved you. A dream that made you want to believe you would be together for a long time. Yet somehow that dream brought out the real reality of your living fantasy.

Tom Holland the love of your life or was the love of your life, so it seemed. We were both 17 at the time. You had just graduated from high school getting a full scholar ride to the best college. 

You knew what you set your goal for.

You knew where your priorities stood.

You had everything you hoped for.

The greatest friends.

The most loving and supporting mother any one could ask for. An amazing offer for school, but why did none of that matter that night. The night where you could let go, stop worrying about the future, get drunk wasted for crying out loud! For Tom he was setting out to pursue a career, one that would take him far in life, a successful life, a career in acting. Now you may be thinking how someone like yourself wounded up with him. Well Tom and yours meeting was as abnormal as it could be, it was kind of like your typical, “his friend were friends with your friends so we should meet up, go out for a while, maybe hit a club or something. You both got to know each other throughout a years time. And throughout that time a spark ignited. That’s right you Y/N L/N got roped into the love train with Mr. Tom Holland himself. He clearly reciprocated the same feelings you had for him. 

Your relationship started slow. You’d go out on dates. Introduce each other to each other’s parents. Go out with our friends. Do stupid things…Everything was great, so where did it go wrong?

Tom and his best friend Harrison suggested one night that you should go out for drinks, although do to some of you not being fully at age yet, you had to go with plan B. Throw a stupid party. Your friend Y/F/N and you still lived with your parents so you still had to ask permission to attend said party. There wasn’t many people you knew only a short amount like Tom, Harrison and a few other of your friends.

It seemed great at the time, but as soon as more people started arriving and more booze was being consumed, it was a recipe for disaster. Of course back home where Tom was from drinking didn’t seem that big of a deal, since he was already 18, but here in the U.S he’d have to wait three more years. You four.

You were starting to regret the whole party. You weren’t one to be in the heard of craziness. The music was too loud. Your head was pounding, and there was too many people for your liking.

Tom noticed your discomfort and suggested you two go upstairs away from all the chaos. You held in his as he lead the way.  You passed by people who were way to close for liking, couples practically sucking their faces off, and just passed out drunk on the carpet. 

You both ascended up the stairs and entered the bedroom. “That’s better” You sighed sitting on the bed. Tom closed the door behind him taking a sip of his beer and repeating your actions. 

“Maybe it wasn’t such a great idea to throw a party” He frowned.

“Ya think!” You exclaimed.

“I thought today would be fun” You averted your gaze to your lap

“It still can be” He gently lifted your chin to look at him.


He didn’t give you an answer. He gently brushed your lips climbing his way on top of you. The love you had was coming out with a passionate kiss.

“You sure?” His faced showed concerned.

“Yeah” You assured him.

He connected your lips again before begging his task. The night was filled with we shouldn'ts, but were replace by “Don’t stop” or “That feels nice”. It felt like an endless pleasurable evening. You and Tom couldn’t comprehend properly due to the alcohol, yet it was the best thing you had done. It was a night filled with no regrets or any we might’ve made a mistake. No. It was a lovable moment. If anything that night had brought you closer. So you thought.

The passing weeks were enjoyable. You expressed your love you had for each other. Nothing could have ruined what you had, well not until Tom got a certain phone call.

“What do you mean your leaving?” You were slowly shedding tear after tear.

“I just got offered an incredible job Y/N!” He was so thrilled that he had gotten the part for the movie he audition for.

“Aren’t you happy for me?” His expression saddened.

“Of course I am…I-I just, what’s going to happen to us?” You whispered.

“I-I don’t know? But we’ll work it out like we always do.” He shook is head.

“You know how long distance relationships turn out Tom” You looked down at your feet.

He gently lifted your chin with his hand. “That shouldn’t stop of us though” He smiled reassuringly. 

“I’m gonna miss you” You cried into his shoulder.

“Me too”.

Tom leaving was hard on you, but not as much as the lessened phone calls and texting messages. Your departure was sort of an unexpected thing. A break up was never brought up, but you knew where your relationship stood. It was broken up relationship whether you wanted it to be or not. You felt an ache in your heart. Tom had been your first love, and your first heartbreak. He was your love and you were his.

A couple weeks had past and you were trying to get your life together again. You were going to go to college and get your degree in (Subject). But what you got instead was morning sickness, and a missed period. You didn’t want to assume the worst of the situation, but when your period never showed you were growing nervous by the second. You also didn’t want to tell your mom, god knows what’d she do if she found out you were going to have baby. You were still a baby. Bringing a child into this life was not what you needed right now. Not alone. You were so scared, you didn’t know what to do. You needed your mom.

“Mom can I talk to you?” You slowly approached her.

“Sure sweetie what is it?” She was cooking up something for dinner in the kitchen.

“I just want you to know I never intended for this to happen” You nodded at her. She turned around having her full attention now.

“Okay now you worrying me. What’s going on?” She looked at you curiously.

You hesitated. It was now or never, you thought. 

“I’m pregnant…” Your eyes started watering.

Your mom didn’t say anything. She just looked at you in shock. Her silence was something you didn’t need.

“Mom? Please say something!” You cried out. 

She still said nothing.

“I so sorry mom! I disappointed you!” You continued crying. As if it clicked in, your mother walked up to you embracing you in her arms. You cried against her shirt.

“You are not a disappointment!” She exclaimed gazing down at your figure. She wiped your tear stained eyes away.

“But I got pregnant at a young age” You whispered.

“Sweetie getting pregnant isn’t even that horrible of a thing, but it can be difficult at some points in life, besides you aren’t alone in this situation” She assured you. 

You had thought about Tom that moment. He was gone and here you were carrying his unborn child. You cautiously placed a hand on your stomach. You were going to bring a life into this world. 

“You are not a disappointment Y/N, and you aren’t alone in this” She gripped your hand in hers.

Throughout those everlasting nine months you took in your mothers words. You weren’t alone in this. You had her right by your side every step of the way. Tom had left you behind, while he went on to take on his career. You were probably long forgotten by him. Your mother told you that you didn’t need him to care for your child. Your mother had done it by herself, and so could you, but with her helping and guiding you. Something her mother never gave her, your mother gave back to you much more in many ways. You couldn’t thank her enough. 

The day had arrived. You didn’t know what to expect, but boy did your contractions hurt like a b**ch. Your mom had probably broken so many rules to get you to the hospital quickly. You were wheeled off to a room to prepare to give birth. The wait seemed to drag on. Nurses were going in and out of room trying to get a hold the doctor. Your mom was right beside you holding your hand to try and calm you down. If it weren’t for the doctor you would have broken your moms hand by how tightly you held it.

The doctor finally said those six words you had been dying to hear.

“Y/N I need you to push!”

You pushed with all the energy you had.

“You’re doing great, just one more push!”

“I-I can’t do it!” You cried out.

“Five minutes of pain for a lifetime of happiness” Your mother whispered to you caressing your hair back. You looked at her.

“Just one final push!” The doctor said.

You groaned out giving the push your all. Once you pushed you heard the sound of your baby’s cry. You sighed in relief but also because you gave birth to a new life.

“It’s a girl” The nursed informed you.

“Can I-I hold her?” You shed a tear.

“Absolutely” She carefully placed her in your arms.

“Cradle the head” You mother told you smiling down at her precious granddaughter.

“She’s perfect” You softly caressed your finger on the side of her face.

“What are you going to name her?” The nurse held up a clipboard.

You looked down at her little face. You never knew how delicate and small something so precious could be.

She opened her eyes and you couldn’t comprehend words properly, you could only gaze at her with so much love. She had his eyes. His dark brown eyes.

“Alinine Primlet Y/L/N” You smiled at her.

“You must’ve thought about this for a while”

“I did”.

“Welcome to the world Alinine” You pressed a kissed to her forehead. She seemed to react to it because she smiled.

Little did you know you’re whole life would be changed by one special little girl.

Part 2

Thank you to those who suggested wonderful names. I couldn’t decide so I combined the names I liked:

@soundshoodfeelshood -Aline @unabashedlyswimmingtimemachine -Katherine = Alinine

@xsabrinalynn - Prim @quackson-central - Scarlet = Primlet


@forever-wander-neversettle @tiny-friggin-human @blackfandomtrashandproud @bookworm06 @all-t0-y0u @xkaciesearlex @harrysbbby @ginervraweasly @multifandomtakeover @steffieking @moonandstars-xo @michaelsxxsmile @unknown420lol @justcameforthefanfiction @therealsweetspawn @miraisnotavailable @lyricfreaks @teen-wolf-stydia-feels @password123d@theoismydad @isnow-0r-never@zuni21798@idkanymoreitsjustme@cele715

Permanent Tags:

@siennarossi @monsis-world @onceuponateenpanwolfian @maria96bvb @thequaksonclackson @hannahweeks @teen-river-wolf @totallyrandomfandomfangirl @arkhamasylumpatient-blog1 @daringbanshee @decaffeinated-fangirl @love-feels-like-loneliness @clean-and-claire @fireismysaftey @smazztastic @jor-da-na @anthonystoner @raindancer2004

anonymous asked:

Was there a colored page of kirishima with black hair? I can't remember, but if there wasn't confirmation; what if his hair is a wildly different color and since manga is black n white no one can tell lmao

Might be, but even if it weren’t striktly black it still has to be some dark and dull color, or else he didn’t have any reason to call himself plain, right? No actual need to dye it either, really!

Anon said: Denki once jokingly said he just needs to stick a fork in a powersocket to pull an all nighter but now everyone wants to know if that can happen

I’m sure with everyone you mean the squad which as we all know is made of irresponsible idiots and enablers to every and all stupid/reckless ideas - I’m 100% convinced they all told Kaminari to “prove it, then” and Kaminari was definitely ready with fork in hand 0.2 seconds later and if it weren’t that they decided to be idiots in the common room and Iida happened across them just as he was about to stick the fork in the plug they would have already short-circuited the whole dorms building lmao

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the rain | jason blossom (riverdale)

Originally posted by riverdalesource

prompt: 8- “what your wearing is very distracting”, 12- “i didn’t realise i needed your permission, 15-“here take my jacket you look freezing & 23- “kiss me”

a/n: another piece from my trial co-owner!! let me know what yous think!!

perfect nails, perfect hair.

after many hours spent in front of the mirror, I was finally ready to leave my room and go to Cheryl Blossom’s party.

“You look fabulous!“ My best friend, Betty Cooper said in amazement.

“I don't look like myself at all, Betty. I shouldn't have put this much lipstick, maybe i should just stay…”

“No friggin way, Y/F/N! You can't spend a friday night inside of your house. Besides, you have to find yourself a date for prom!“

I, myself, am a particularly introvert person. And to be honest, I’ve never been to a party before, let alone at Cheryl Blossom’s

But my friend was right, I totally needed a date for the prom, so I said yes to the party. Betty hugged me tightly and grabbed her purse. We were ready to go.

We entered the massive Thornhill mansion and searched for our mutual friend, one and only, Veronica Lodge. I was already extremely anxious and jittery.

“Oh my god, you guys! Finally!“ said the raven haired girl joyfully.

“Y/n! You look… different?!”

I smiled ungainly.

“Don’t get me wrong, different but amazing…" 

 Suddenly, there was an awkward silence.

“Do you guys… want something to drink?”

I nodded in agreement. I totally needed some alcohol to warm me up. We slowly entered a huge living room, filled with familiar faces. Kids from my school were there.

Almost all of them, dancing and drinking not surprisingly expensive beer, without even noticing me.

“Hey, you wanna dance?” shouted Betty. The music was very loud.

“I… No, Betty. I’m not… you can go without me! I’ll catch up later.”

She calmly smiled to me. Even though I was surrounded with people, I felt so lonely.

Many weird thoughs were running through my mind. I wanted to be somebody, I wanted to be known by them, but I was just a regular geeky high school freak. I knew it, leaving my house was a horrible idea.

At that exact moment, a familiar red haired boy approached to me.

“Hi there, beautiful”

“So… To be honest, I’ve never seen you at Cheryl’s parties before.”

“Parties are not really my thing” I tried not to look at his face.

“Then what’s your thing?”

I actually started enjoying this conversation.

“Um… Books, music… I don’t know”

He let out a tiny laugh. His laugh, it was like a melody to my soul. We sat on a beach, next to a small beach house. The familiar sound of waves was astonishing.

“Never met a girl like you before, Y/N. Truly rare”

We both laughed. His piercing blue eyes were shining like diamonds in the night. His face, his personality, he was art. We spent the rest of the night talking, opening up to each other. I could feel it, it was love. A weird, spontaneous love. Assuden, it started to rain. 

“Jason, we have to go!”

“No, Y/N! We are too far from Thornhill! We have to hide in the beach house"  We quickly rain into the beach house while laughing.”

“The rain is still pouring! We have to stay here.” I said.

“Here, take my jacket, you look freezing”

I put on his comfortable red velvet jacket.

“What’s so special about rain?” he sat next to me.

“I like rain. Rain makes me feel less alone. All rain is, is a cloud- falling apart, and pouring its shattered pieces down on top of you. It makes me feel better to know other things in nature can shatter.”

I could feel his eyes staring at me.

“Um… Jason, I have to ask you something”

“Oh so do I… You go first.”

“Why… Why did you choose me over all those girls?”

And we were back to the awkward conversations.

“Well that’s simple. There’s no reason I shouldn’t pick you, Y/N. You are special" 

I had to words to say. Was he actually in love with me?

“My turn now!”

He took my hand. 

“Y/N, would you like to go to prom with me?"  I stood there, frozen, speachless.



“Kiss me!”

His rosy lips quickly slammed mine. The kiss was strong, breathtaking.  The rain finally stopped pouring

Jason was not just a typo highschool rich kid, he was more than that. He was more than good enough. And I loved him, I truly did. But missing someone gets easier everyday because even though you are one day further from the last time you saw them, you are one day closer to the next time you will. …

Sakamaki Shitty Thing: Did you see?

They were all around you. You saw their faces, their moves. Their breath tickled your neck and you moved, covering yourself with a thick blanket. You were shivering from fear, unable to control your body and mind. 

Their touch was all over your body, they surrounded you like a fire, not letting you run away. They held you in place, making you squirm in panic.

The door opened.

♛ Ayato ♛

- Oi, Chichinashi, what are you… - He stared at you for a moment, genuinely concerned, as you thrashed around. - Hey, stop it! - He came to your bed and pinned you down.

You screamed, starting to struggle even more, not aware it was him that was holding you yet.

- Stop it, I said! Calm fucking down!

You blinked, realizing what happened.

- T-they… - you mumbled incoherently. - T-they were here…

- What…? - Ayato narrowed his eyes, obviously not understanding anything.

- D-didn’t you see them…? T-they were h-here… They-

- Shut up already - he growled at you. - There was no a single person and you were squirming for no reason. What’s wrong with you?!

You curled up, escaping his gaze. Your eyes watered as you sobbed quietly.

- I-I don’t know…

He sighed, letting go of your wrists and sitting up.

- I don’t get it at all. Just… don’t do this again, or I will have to sit with you all night long… and you know what it means. - He smirked at your flustered face and without another word, left the room, leaving the door slightly open.

♟ Kanato ♟

- Can’t you shut up?! - he growled at you, looking at your squirming frame. He was annoyed, it was clear, and he knew that it was because of your actions. They woke him up from his slumber. 

He approached you and stared in silence at your body, narrowing his eyes as he couldn’t be aware of what was going on inside your head. 

You cried out and he nuzzled his face into Teddy’s artificial fur. 

- Annoying, isn’t she…? - he mumbled. - On the other hand… she seems to be so scared… - He chuckled lowly. - I don’t dislike it… Hey, doll. - He grabbed your arm and pulled you up harshly. You almost screamed and he let go of you - so you fell onto the cold floor, looking around. - Huh, you’re not scared anymore? What a shame… 

- K-Kanato…? - You looked up, your eyes watered. - Y-you’re here… 

- Of course I’m here. You woke me up, you trash - he grumbled. - Shouldn’t I punish you for this? 

- B-but… T-there were… I-I saw them… - you started to murmur quietly. - I-I saw…

Kanato narrowed his eyes and then smirked down at you.

- Of course, there were a lot of people’s souls. The ones that died here. Did you see them? Well… Maybe you’ll see them again, we’ll see… Now, come with me… - He grabbed your wrist. - It’ll be a long night for you, doll…

♞ Laito ♞

- Bitch-chaaan~? - Laito yawned, walking into your room, and then stared at you for a few minutes, curious if you’d see him. - Are you dreaming… some nightmare…? - he wondered, but when he came closer, he realized that you’re not sleeping. You weren’t fully counscious either though. You looked as if were fighting with something, yet he didn’t see anything that could possibly make you as scared as you were.

You pushed something away from yourself and got up quickly, in the next moment falling to the floor.

Laito chuckled shortly and you looked up, now realizing that he observes you.

- Is my Bitch-chan having delusions~? Maybe she’s not sleeping properly as she was told to~? Ahh, what can we do now~? 

- L-Laito… - You gulped and looked around. The monsters disappeared, leaving you two completely alone. You sighed with relief. And then you realized that the worst of the monsters was standing in front of you, smirking devilishly.

- Ne, Bitch-chan… It had to be dreadful, shouldn’t I… comfort you somehow~? - He stalked closer and raised your chin, looking straight into your eyes. - Don’t be so scared… You’re safe with me, you know~? Nothing will hurt you… more than I could.

♝ Reiji ♝

- What are you doing…

He glared at you, not moving from his spot, just staring at your squirming form. You heard his voice and fought harder, trying to wriggle away and run to him.

You hoped that he’d help you, protect you, or at least say that the ghosts weren’t real - you really wanted them to not actually exist, but how a not-existing thing could hurt you so badly…? How could it touch you, hold you in place, hit you as it did?

But Reiji just stared at you, for a while probably enjoying your fear, even if he wasn’t the one to cause it. That’s - probably - why he got bored of it so easily.

- Stand up - he said sternly.

- I… c-can’t… - you cried, already losing your strength.

- It’s an order. Stand up or you will be punished.

You fought. You really tried. But it was all too strong.

But as soon as he made a single step towards you, everything vanished. You sighed deeply in relief, staring weakly at the boy. Your heart thumped in your chest when you realized that you didn’t do as he told you to.

And his stern face and cold glare proved that he didn’t like it.

♚ Shu ♚

He instantly knew that something was off. He - obviously - couldn’t see nor hear all the creatures, but as soon as he entered your room, he could hear your heart skipping and the smell your boiling blood reached his senses.

He closed his eyes for a moment, but it was all too noisy.

- Stop it - he said in quiet, but demanding voice. When he came closer, you instantly started to calm down, the surreal creatures disappearing one by one. 

And when the last of them disappeared, you saw the vampire hoovering over you, staring at you intently.

- Are you scared? - he asked, but his voice was so indifferent. You curled up, still trembling from what you’ve just came through. To your surprise, Shu smirked. - There, there - he said mockingly. - You want me to comfort you? Or maybe you did all this scene to gather my attention? Well, you succeed.

He climbed onto the bed, pinning you down in an second.

- But you’ll pay for it, so brace yourself.

♜ Subaru ♜

- Hey, what the hell are you doing?! 

Subaru’s sharp voice made you instantly come back to reality. You sat up, curling up a bit as your breath hitched. 

- S-Subaru… - you whined softly and got up, running to him and wrapping arms around him. You were trembling, which only confused him more.

- O-oi, what are you…

- I-I was so scared… - you cried quietly. The boy was taken aback.

- You had… a nightmare?

- I-I don’t know…

He frowned, but didn’t say anything more. It was a bit awkward, but he eventualy placed his hand on top of your head in a calming, comforting manner.

- There, it’s alright now.

And it was alright.

Just A Crush

Pairing: Matt Murdock x Reader Insert 

Words: 3376

Genres: can you take a guess (fluff) 

Summary: you have a crush on matt and you think he cant tell but…he so can. and it turns out he has the same feelings for you. but can one night change everything when Daredevil himself comes crashing into your apartment like, prince charming dressed in red? (i tried to be dramatic. im not good at summaries.) 

Warnings: none, unless you hate small bathroom make out sessions. 

Notes: no one requested this but i hope you like it anyways :) 

“I don’t care if I fall in love to a devil, as long as that devil will love me the way he loves hell.”

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  • Cashier: *waiting nervously at bus stop* Why is this stupid bus always so late. It's either early or ridiculously late. Why can't it ever be on time. Fuck. I'm so paranoid. I feel like I did something wrong. I should've checked on my co-worker. What if they're seriously hurt.
  • Old Man: You've been talking to yourself for about fifteen minutes straight, kid. I usually ain't one to complain, but I was enjoying the silence before you started whining.
  • Cashier: Eek! Where did you come from old man?
  • Old Man: Over yonder. *points at liquor store* I've been sitting in this here bus stop since before you arrived, but you kids today don't pay attention none. I could've gutted you in a second if I wanted to.
  • Cashier: Are you going to gut me?
  • Old Man: No. At least not now. *lets off a threatening chortle*
  • Cashier: Oh my god!
  • Old Man: I'm messing with you, kid. I'm a religious man and it ain't in me to even harm a fly. Holy lord! *violently stomps his foot on the ground*
  • Cashier: What's wrong!?
  • Old Man: There was a maggot there. I hate maggots. Damn things freak me out.
  • Cashier: You said you wouldn't hurt a fly, but you'll stomp on a maggot?
  • Old Man: Never said I was pro-life.
  • Cashier: *begins to walk away*
  • Old Man: Where ya going, kid?
  • Cashier: I can't trust you, old fucking man! I'd rather walk home then stand around with you.
  • Old Man: Good thing you told me you were walking home so I can follow ya there. *chortles*
  • Cashier: Shit! *starts running*
  • *streets lights burst and the old man screams*
  • Cashier: SHIT! *runs and hides in an alleyway* What the fuck is even happening to me? I shouldn't have left early. I should've checked on my co-worker. This is some form of karmic retribution.
  • ???: NO IT IS NOT, HUMAN.
  • Cashier: Who the fuck's there!? Where are you!?
  • Cashier: What?
  • Cashier: You're saying that I was doomed no matter what?
  • Cashier: But why? You don't have to kill me. I'm sure you could let me live.
  • Cashier: I don't care about anyone else! I don't want to die! Please, I have a family that will miss me!
  • *thousands of maggots crawl out of the shadow and onto the cashier's body meticulously chewing away pieces of flesh as they crawl along*
  • Cashier: No! It hurts! I don't want to die! Someone help me! Help!
  • Amorphous Blob: *watches quietly as the cashier froths at the mouth and quietly flails on the ground* HUMANS ARE SO MENTALLY FRAGILE. FEEDING OFF THEIR FEAR IS SO EASY. AS IF I WOULD EVER LET MY PERFECT CATERPILLARS CHEW ON DISGUSTING SULFURIC HUMAN FLESH.
  • Cashier: *lies braindead and gargling on their own spit*
Young Idol [1]


You where in the usual place, with the usual friends, drinking the usual drink  you always drunk. Man high school sucked, you thought, even if it was your last year there you still couldn’t wait to get out of that fucking place and start actually living your life. It’s not the absolute useless assignments that you always had to have ready by Friday that made you hate it so much, god forbid for all you knew these were the best part of your high school life, the fucking annoying thing was the people there. You never really hanged out with people from your high school, you only had friends from unis(universities). They seemed more mature to you and plus their lives were actually interesting unlike from all the people that attended your school.

“What’s up with you today kiddo?” Yura teased you because she saw you thinking to yourself. ‘Kiddo’ is your nickname there, you don’t necessarily like it but you got used to it eventually.

“Its really nothing..” you said drinking the last sip from your drink. ”I should go get another one” you said and went off.

You sat down at a bench a little outside the club you were in wanting to think to yourself some more with no interruptions. You always planned what you were going to do after high school ended. Although  you weren’t an angel or a proper kid you always wanted to attend a very good university - you might not seem like it but you study a lot and you are a smart kid, you always do assignments and get good grades just because you wanted to do something with your life after you graduate- 

Your thoughts stormed off when you saw a male figure sitting down on the bench next to you. ‘Great, just fucking great. Can’t I even get  some privacy around here?’ you thought to yourself. The dude was drunk but you could tell he could get it together - impressing-. He didn’t act drunk it was just this smell of  alcohol showering you even though you weren’t that close to each other. To be honest, he looked a little lost.

“Everything okay?” you said and you saw him jumping a little at your voice. ‘Don’t fucking tell me he’s so drunk that he didn’t even notice me’ you thought

“Sorry, I uhm..” his eyes met yours, and even though there was little light you could still see them sparkling “I’m sorry..I didn’t see you there..” he said moving his head downwards, now looking at the ground. 

‘Fuck his proportions look flawless’ you thought inspecting every inch of his face. But, why does he look so familiar? Could he had come to this club before? I mean, its a fancy club and it attracts some pretty fancy people, but he is not.. just fancy. You couldn’t really describe it but there was something more to him.

“Seeing something you like?” he said and his cockiness caught you of guard. He was a lost puppy just a second ago..

“Not much but, have we met before? You look really familiar..” you said and obviously your question seemed like something he didn’t  get that often.

“You, you don’t know who I am?” damn, he sure is full of himself. He did look genuinely surprised though..

“Ugh I don’t know.. should I?” he seemed intimidated by your answer. You couldn’t tell what he was thinking, Wow that’s a first, you almost always can read through people like they are an open book, but he looked like he had sealed the pages.

“No.. no you shouldn't” he gave you a smirk that could kill. ”You know, I’m not usually like this. I mean I don’t get drunk or come to clubs for that say” he paused looking at your  face slowly coming towards your eyes. “ People like you would consider me a ‘bore’ “

 “People like me?” you questioned

“Yes you know, people that have friends and can go out and have fun, drinking talking going outside without any trouble” he said

Without any trouble? Well yes that was part true. Your parents weren’t exactly happy for you going out like this, not knowing your friends. But your good grades made up for it. You weren’t a bad kid nor would you ever be influenced by things people would do, and your parents knew that.. they were just a bit cautious and you couldn’t blame them, they were your parents after all.

“Without any trouble?” you questioned chuckling. “ What exactly could put you into trouble? You look a little too old to be schooled over”

“Its… the job I do. Lets say that it doesn’t allow me to go out.” he said

“Well I see you out right now..how come you can now?”

“I wore this” he pulled a face mask out of his jacket’s pocket “Not a lot of people can recognize me if I have this and a hoodie covering my face..and its not fun to wear them so I just decide to hang indoors, if you could call it like that.”

You started putting the pieces together. He was obviously someone famous, that’s why you felt like you knew him. But did that change how you saw him? Not at all.. you weren’t like that. People were people no matter what.

“So it’s indeed that hard to be famous huh?” you chuckled and he laughed along knowing that you were on to him.

“You have no idea..” he smiled at you. His smile was beautiful, nothing like his smirk before, his smile was kind of dreamy.

“So what are you doing this late in a dark alley outside a club mister Famous?” you asked jokingly

“Well I’m pretty happy because I found what I was looking for” he paused after he saw the expression you made. This wasn’t what you singed up for. You didn’t want to be part of his ‘I’m a famous fuckboy’ game. “For gods sake I didn’t mean it like that” he smiled “ I wanted to find someone apart from my band members to talk to. To not know and for him to not know me, but its kind off hard if you're like me..”

You knew how he felt even thought you weren’t famous. You were willing to hear everything he had to say and let him get things out of his chest. This had nothing to do with the fact that he was famous, that was just you being you.

“Well, I’m all ears” you said

“How can I be sure that you are not a sesang that is going to post everything about this conversation on twitter? Or even worse, a reporter?” you laughed when you heard that. You got up “Fine i’ll just leave then” you joked. He reached for your hand pulling you back down next to him this time a little closer. “ No, please stay..” he said

“Alright. Start quickly thought.. my friends will be worried, if they start searching for me and find me I can not assure you that they will not recognize you”

With that he started telling you everything with some jokes in between to shimmer down the atmosphere. He told you how he was really stressed about their upcoming comeback, about all the new promotions that they would have and how they didn’t got a proper break. He told you how much he missed his parents and how sad he was to not get to spend new years eve with them. He ended with the thing that has had him depressed for a long time now, his grandma. He loved her a lot and he misses her even more. He didn’t go into much detail about that though you couldn’t blame him, he was a stranger to you after all.

“Wow that felt better than I thought” he said and grabbed your palm. “Thank you..really”

He was a great guy, you could tell. His love and respect  for his loved ones effected you.

“But hey I never asked” he smiled at you “ what’s your name?”

“Oh its Y/N, how about you?”

“It’s really, really nice to meet you Y/N” he smiled while getting up bringing you up with him. He gave you a very quick and innocent kiss on the cheek witch felt like heaven. He then went to a black car parked a little farther from where you were standing. He opened the door and looked at you, the light now was enough to see his face a little better. His eyes.. hell those eyes..

“I’m Taehyung, Kim Taehyung”

anonymous asked:

Wait, so you don't have BPD but you want to write parse with bpd as your representation? How does that work? I'm really sorry, I like your Parse stories and read them and I don't mean to say that you shouldn't write them, but I don't understand where you're coming from on this. Is it really that difficult to identify with any of the characters of color on the same level?

I’ll answer your questions backwards so the long personal story can go under a readmore:

“Is it really that difficult to identify with any of the characters of color on the same level?“

That’s something I’ve been thinking about a lot over the last few weeks. Like, mental health is my wheelhouse, that’s a huge thing I write about; what about writing mentally ill characters of colour?  I can do it pretty easily with my OCs (cf. Luis and Maida) but feeling my way into mental health themes with canon characters of colour is more difficult while Kent and Jack are kind of like… low-hanging fruit, for me.

It’s why I’ve started bugging @abominableobriens with thoughts about BPD Nursey, gone back to trying to work my way into Ransom’s anxiety (I can’t find the post where I talk about where I was with this a couple months ago).  It’s not a smooth process, though–I’m flopping around being like “but how do I respect Ransom’s personality and preferences but get him some TREATMENT and REST” and “Okay but I haaate conflict-laden relationships and Nursey and Dex’s canon relationship is so full of sniping, how do I write Nursey without Dex?” and that’s the kind of flailing and experimentation I have to do internally or talking to a few people. Mostly the for-public-consumption stuff that’s come out of that process so far has been fluffy romantic headcanons.

So we’ll see how that goes. It’s partly that positive depictions of BPD/the kind of complex trauma I’m interested in are really rare. Before OMGCP, I spent most of my time writing straight-up OCs in fandom contexts because I couldn’t find what I wanted in the source material.  ¯\_(ツ)_/¯

Oookay, and now for the long bit: Why I care really personally about representations of BPD even though I don’t have it myself.

Keep reading

fibro!tsuna and coping of pain
  • tsuna: i have.. fibro,,
  • tsuna: basically Pain
  • therapist: i'm very sorry to hear that.
  • therapist: let's try meditation. it will help you block out the sensation of pain.
  • tsuna: will it let me blacklist my entire body
  • ...
  • hand: *blocked*
  • foot: *blocked*
  • 3 sq in piece of skin on right thigh: *blocked*
  • tsuna: you're all blocked
  • tsuna: none of you are free from sin.
  • tsuna: or pain.
  • reborn: too bad real life doesn't work that way
  • tsuna: you're blocked too.
  • ...
  • tsuna: *leg starts spasming*
  • tsuna: excuse me teacher my leg is dying i need to take a walk
  • teacher: ..shouldn't you usually rest if your leg is, um. dying?
  • tsuna, already packing up: look buddy i don't know what kind of Normal World you live in but in My world when My limbs start dying i Take A Walk
  • tsuna: bye
  • gokudera: *leaves with him. makes 'i'm watching you' gesture at teacher.*
  • yamamoto: *haha water triiiibe*
  • teacher:
  • teacher: they're not coming back are they
  • teacher: it's barely noon,,
  • ...
  • tsuna: let's play a game!
  • tsuna: it's called 'guess my pain levels'
  • tsuna: pick any number from 1-100
  • gokudera: juudaime that's kind of a, uh.. dark game to play
  • tsuna: nonsense, it distracts me from eternal death
  • yamamoto: i love guessing games!
  • yamamoto: 87
  • tsuna:
  • tsuna:
  • tsuna:
  • gokudera: you sonnuva- I DIDN'T GET A TURN I WAS GONNA GUESS THAT
  • yamamoto: haha! luckyyyyy
  • yamamoto: what do those numbers stand for anyway?
  • tsuna: how many specific points of my body are currently vying for my attention by telling me they're each undergoing the slowest most painful form of necrosis ever known to mankind
  • gokudera: oxidation?
  • tsuna: oxi-wha--
  • tsuna: i hate you all
  • ...
  • tsuna: okay but tell me
  • tsuna: how exactly does that possession thing work
  • mukuro: why are you.. asking...
  • lancia: don't remember much of it. i think it makes you black out the entire time.
  • tsuna: sounds convenient
  • tusna: i have Chronic Pain And Fatigue though.
  • lancia: ..he won't feel it? probably.
  • tsuna: alright. here's the thing.
  • tsuna: my attendance is horrible
  • tsuna: mukuro i need you to go to school for me for a few days
  • tsuna: also please adhere to this very strict sleep schedule or i s2g if you overwork my body i will find a way to transfer all the accumulated pain onto your body
  • mukuro: do i get a choice in this?
  • tsuna: are you throwing away your Get Out Of Jail Free For A Few Days card?
  • mukuro: you drive a hard bargain, vongola
  • lancia: i can't believe it
  • lancia: you've given him conflicting emotions
  • lancia: truly you are a miracle worker, sawada tsunayoshi
  • tsuna: the only miracle i wanna work is on me
  • ...
  • mukuro, in tsuna's body: kufufufu...
  • tsuna, in their mind: Stop Laughing
  • mukuro: what
  • mukuro: you're supposed to be asleep!
  • mukuro: my possession should be suppressing your conscious mind!
  • tsuna: if i can wake up from feeling like i've taken a hammer to the better part of my sternum, i can wake up from you being a creepy dick in my body
  • tsuna: Cease And Desist
  • ...
  • mukuro, in tsuna's body: yamamoto-kun, how does my hair look?
  • yamamoto: *squints for a heckuva long time*
  • yamamoto: ..looks the same to me, haha. did you do something new to it?
  • mukuro: just a small addition.. is it not noticeable? i thought it was quite clever.
  • yamamoto: ???
  • mukuro: *tries to indicate the pineapple tuft hidden among tsuna's already tufty hair*
  • yamamoto: i don't see anything??
  • mukuro:
  • mukuro: what a waste of effort.
  • ...
  • mukuro, in his own mind: get out
  • tsuna, in mukuro's body: no
  • tsuna: it's cold and wet and i am restful
  • tsuna: i have slept so much. not a single headache.
  • tsuna: kinda hard to breathe but i'm not too surprised by that
  • mukuro: the week is over and so is our deal
  • mukuro: i pranced around in your body, freaked some people out, made gokudera question his sanity
  • mukuro: your bully may have a crush on my laugh
  • tsuna: ?? which one
  • mukuro: the loud one with the sword
  • tsuna: that's a little disturbing. i'll try not to laugh like you then.
  • mukuro: ...so
  • tsuna: *whining* five more minuuutteesss
  • ...
  • tsuna: aaannnnddd now we're back to pain. pain, pain, pain. 24/7 pain. i didn't miss you. i mean, i kinda did. it's really numb without you. felt weird.
  • tsuna: kinda like i wasn't really there
  • reborn:
  • tsuna: well, it was good while it lasted
  • reborn: maybe warn me next time before i shoot mukuro dead and you with him
  • tsuna: wow that's a little drastic just because i let a known criminal who tried to kill me walk around in my body for a week.
  • reborn: your self-preservation instincts can be really ludicrously terrible sometimes you know
  • tsuna: look me in the eyes and tell me you've never wanted to be free of your own body before
  • reborn:
  • reborn: shut up and go back to sleep

Chapter 1

Jack’s art has always been more than just art. From the time he excitedly called his mother over to see the butterfly he’d drawn only to helplessly watch it fly away, paper wings with crayon lines disappearing into the sky before she could see it, to the time the fearful picture of his father, drawn in terror and hopelessness, had flipped off the page and nearly killed the man it shared a face with, his art had a tendency to come alive, acting with the emotion behind it.
The first time he’d read the Harry Potter books, or rather, listened to the CDs in a library to look like he belonged there, he’d hoped just for a little while that his eleventh birthday, coming up, would also bring a letter, and a place to belong other than the groups of similarly lost, hungry boys he’d found.
But the pictures and portraits in the wizarding world didn’t come off the page, didn’t float away, didn’t have three dimensions, didn’t try to hurt or kill people. The art in the wizarding world didn’t act in the fear behind it, or the hope or joy or love, it simply moved and reflected the things it portrayed. And when Jack’s eleventh birthday passed with no letter delivered by an owl, he wasn’t surprised as much as he was disappointed.
As he grew up, always moving, avoiding places he knew people would be able to tell he was alone in, finally settling in a suburb or New York with a nice park and several fast food restaurants and a nice library, he learned, slowly, to leave bits and pieces out when he drew, to not add the last eyelashes, leave out a few curls, avoid shading in the last shadows, because as long as he knew it was unfinished, it stayed on the paper, stayed where it belonged.
People payed him to draw them on good days, to exaggerate their eyes and mouths, people walking through the park who walked home with a barely unfinished picture of them, never to quite notice the missing fingernail, eyelash, birthmark.
In the summer, he moved to the city, finding his refuge in the bigger Central Park, where more people came and stopped, but less people noticed him. Except for the men who have him a feeling he could never quite shake, either wearing dark glasses but looking straight at him like they weren’t blind, or who’s eye color didn’t quite match their faces, the people who sometimes slipped and smiled at him, or who showed their eyes that were white but obviously could see him.
And sometimes, the shadows that didn’t match anything around him but wouldn’t disappear, the rustles in the trees late at night that didn’t go away until he yelled, that terrified him but he couldn’t place.
And then, the boys. A group of them, coming through the park like tourists but at the same time like they knew their way around better than anyone.
“Wanna draw me?” One of them, younger than the rest, sat down at Jack’s feet eagerly. “My name’s Les and that’s my brother Davey and all my friends-”
“Les. We’re in a hurry, don’t bother the guy.” One of his friends spoke quickly and quietly, with a Brooklyn accent thicker than any Jack had ever heard in real life. Les looked disappointed.
“I could draw you and then you could come back later and see?” His friend looked skeptical, examining his setup of old drawings rather than making eye contact. “You don’t have to pay if you don’t like it.” He offered. “I’ll just add it to the board.”
“Fine.” The guy finally made eye contact, and something about his ice blue eyes sent a shiver down Jack’s spine. Not the same as the men who’s eyes didn’t match them, more like by simply making eye contact the boy knew Jack better than he knew himself. “Les we have to go. We’ll be back in an hour or so, I suppose.”
As they walked away, Jack started to draw, losing himself in recreating the waves of the little boy’s hair, the creases in his worn shirt. As always, he wasn’t quite sure he was imagining the face adjust its smile into something more lifelike, blink once or twice, even the chest move like it was breathing before settling into peacock like pride.
“I love it! Spot please can I keep it?” Spot arrived behind Les, as Jack was brushing away the eraser crumbs and mentally checking off the things he’d left unfinished.
The eyes were missing the blot of red that occupied half of the white of his left one.
Of his freckles, the big ones symmetrical on either side of his nose had been left off.
The writing on his shirt had been left an outline, not filled in with details.
Just enough left off to keep the sketch from coming alive.
Spot looked at him sharply, his ice blue eyes still seeming to read Jack’s entire being as easily as he took in the sketch.
“How much?” He asked, still speaking in that same quiet, fast tone.
“It’s only five dollars for a pencil sketch.” Spot’s eyes widened and he hissed through his teeth like Jack had just quoted the price for an original Monet, until Les cleared his throat and pulled a five dollar bill from Spot’s pocket.
“That’s not a lot at all!”
“Right.” And with that, the pair walked away, Spot pulling another from the group aside as they walked, heads together and glancing back at him.
Over the next few days, Jack started to notice Spot hanging around, watching him with those eyes, never talking, just staying close, watching. He never stayed for more than a few hours, but he kept showing up.
And then one day, nobody was around and he approached.
“I know.” He said abruptly.
“You know what? How to fake an accent from last century?” Jack was irritated by his constant, silent presence, and didn’t feel like putting up with vagueness after putting up with that for a week and a half.
“About your art. About how it comes alive and that’s why you didn’t finish Les’s picture. And that’s why you ran away from home. And that’s why you’re here, in the summer, here is better than the smaller park you normally call home.” Everything he said was matter of fact and quiet, but his eyes didn’t leave Jack’s.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Jack’s mind raced through his lie, trying to figure out how this boy could possibly know.
“The butterfly, your father, plants and animals and people, coming to life, sometimes scary and sometimes not. The shadows with tentacles for tongues that belong to nothing you can see, the men with white eyes who look at you and scare you.” Jack inhaled sharply, but still insisted.
“I have no idea what you’re taking about, just leave me the fuck alone.”
“I’m like you, Jack, we’re all like you. Strange. Odd. Peculiar.” Spot was slightly too close for comfort. “Les can see the things that make the shadows. Race can make water do whatever he wants. Finch can fly. I can read people and minds. And you can bring art to life. And we know how to keep you safe from the things that scare you, but you need to come with me. Now.”
“Dude, I don’t have time for some crazy fantasy, magic power bullshit.”
“I’ll prove it. Think something entirely random, a number, a name, something nobody would guess, and I’ll hear it.” Jack thought carefully for a second, but settled on the one thing he’d never told anyone, ready to laugh in this boy’s face and walk away.
“When you were seven, you found a crawl space underneath a neighbors porch that nobody had ever touched and hid there when things got bad at home. The only thing underneath the porch besides you was a stone frog, and you named him Gregory.” Spot didn’t break eye contact. “Come with me.”
“How did you-”
“I told you, I read minds.” Spot glanced at the old fashioned watch he was holding. “And either you need to come with me now, or you need to choose to live out here, on the run, alone, and hunted.”
“Hunted?” Spot quirked an eyebrow.
“The men with the white eyes, the shadows, they only leave you alone because they don’t know for sure that you’re one of us. If they ever saw you slip up, if they ever saw one of your drawings blink or breathe or fly away, they wouldn’t just be watching anymore. You would be their target, and they’d do anything to get you. Come with me, and I can promise you’ll be safe. Stay here, and I can promise you won’t be.” Spot stared at Jack for a second longer, not blinking, before turning and waking away.
Part of Jack wanted nothing more than to turn away from the boy, ignore him and hope he never came back.
But a larger part, the part that had been living on the streets and knew how to read people, and the part that felt cold and unexplainably terrified every time a man with white eyes leered at him, had a feeling that following him was the smart move, the right move. So he quickly swept his art supplies into the bag, folding his board and following behind Spot as he walked quickly towards the edge of the park. Something was telling Jack that Spot was telling the truth, and he followed that instinct.

anonymous asked:

here's a fun thing: YOU'VE BEEN TAGGED! Let's talk about your story! Here's what you do: 1. how many stories are you writing? 2. What's your favorite story/favorite post you've written? 3. Who do you personally ship in your story? 4: Who do you think has had the most character development in your story (bonus: why) 5. Tag 3 story simblr that you've been reading!

Whaaa, this is so cool! I am gonna do it :3 well, yeah sure, my story has barely even started, but I will give it my best shot!

1. At the moment just the one I am posting on my blog (Barefoot on a Blood of Roses), but I am somewhat interested in starting a research phase for this new (ambitious) idea I have in mind. However, I am a bit afraid I might lose interest or focus on the one I am currently writing.. >_<

2. Hmmm.. I haven’t written a lot, to be honest, as this passion and hobby of mine is rather nascent. But I have been creating fragments of stories and characters in my head ever since I was little. That being said, I feel fond of some of my “unfinished businesses”, e.g.:

  • Originally, I was supposed to tell a story where Alt was the main focus. It was set in the distant future with a time travel and whatnot being a possibility. Autumn (originally - Illusen) was more of a secondary character who was also very much jealous of everything Alt did. So she wasn’t exactly a big fan of Alt, haha. Also, their personalities were rather different from what is canon now..?
  • I have also created some disparate characters that at first glance were unrelated but after a further analysis, I could see how they overlap with each other. So here is a quick list *clears throat* Character #1: hiding run-away girl living remotely from all the living carrying the responsibility and burden that isn’t hers but the perks of doing so keep her life from crumbling to pieces. Character #2: a lady, an empty porcelain shell that shouldn't be even considered a breathing human being with her disdain towards all the imperfections found in others and, gods forbid, in her own self. Character #3: the abandoned and bricked up in an old mansion she shall turn all the warm-blooded things daring to cross the threshold of her citadel into her beloved dolls marshaled on the display for all the living and all the dead. She shall make you feel at home. Character #4: pernicious and burlesque chaos demon who switches babies in a hospital first thing in the morning and aligns the furniture for maximum torture of pinky toes before going to sleep. 

3. While, of course, I ship Autumn and Lovio, but there aren’t exactly any other ships in my story at the moment, hahaha.

4. Probably Alt. Because compared to other characters, she has the most of the experience under her belt and has gone through some major psychological challenges. But that’s something for me to show you in the future :3

5. I tag @femmesim @stardust-sims @wanderlust-sims @essiesims @nicotinc @noonicorn @oatspice @bananahut @ciarasia @neutralsupply  and anyone who wants to do this! Thanks to @something-wicked-sims and @lovelychooser for tagging me on this as well! <3

anonymous asked:

Heya~ I really love your muse head canon requests lol, I have one of my own but only do it if you're comfortable?? ^^ How would the RFA + Saeran react/act around an MC with an eating disorder..? (Anorexia or Bulimia, if ur risky) I know it's a strange/triggering request and isn't very easy access knowledge.. But I've suffered with one for a while and I'm really unable to relate to most head canons lol ^^; thanks so much for your time !! (Also EDs shouldn't be romanticised and I'm not trying to))

aah, I see. I know these things are a serious problem. I’ll try my best. 

Unfortunately, I haven’t learned much about these issues, but I’ll try to do some quick research so that it’ll be easier for you to relate. Please excuse any mistakes and don’t hesitate to correct my wrongs. These topics are sensitive and I want to do my best to deliver quality writing. 

(this’ll be under the cut [click ‘keep reading’] because I don’t want to cause triggers or offend anyone) 

~Cherry L.

Masterpost: click here

Askbox/Requests: click here

Keep reading


-Fluff Alert-

-It took me ten and a half years to find a good picture and I finally found this one!-


Quality Time

Spending time with your boyfriend had become a very difficult thing to do ever since he started working out of town. Either he was gone at work or he was home and too tired to go see you. You cherished the times when he would drag himself out of bed for you, even if it was just for a little while. 

You and Changkyun had been sitting in a cafe for an hour or so talking. You’d exchange subtle gestures such as brushing your fingers against the others hand or face, holding the others arm as you told a particularly thrilling story, or playing with each others feet under the table. Making you laugh was an almost effortless thing for Changkyun. The way he would distort his face in ways that he knew would leave you doubled over, not caring about the stares he got from people around him. 

“I’m so glad I came out today,” he says to you as he grabs both of your hands in his. He pulls them up to his mouth and you can feel his breath on your knuckles as he bends down to kiss both of your hands. 

“Me too,” just as the words leave your mouth you hear a loud gasp from behind you and Changkyun lets go of your hands to stand up. Before you turn around you notice the biggest smile on his face. You turn to see his friend walking up to your table with her arms up in anticipation for a hug. You take in Sara’s light brown eyes and her long brown hair that falls perfectly on her toned body that had left you in awe as well as envious when you first met her. You’d told yourself many times that it shouldn’t bother you that they were friends but something about her unsettled you. Maybe it was the way she was obviously crushing hard on him and making every point to show that. It’s not like Changkyun didn’t have other female friends, it’s just that she was different. You turn back and slump into your chair slightly, plastering a fake smile on your face. 

“Hey!” She’s almost yelling as they hug. As she grabs another chair to place at your table she smiles at you for a millisecond before turning her attention back to Changkyun. 

“How are you? I haven’t seen you in so long.” All of his attention has turned to her which makes you feel slightly bitter. As they continue talking its as if you aren’t there. You let yourself wallow in the fact that you hadn’t seen him in a month and she comes along to steal your spot light. Though you’re moving your head back and forth between them as they talk you aren’t actually paying any attention to what they’re saying. You tell them quietly that you’ll be going to the wash room and neither of them seem to notice as you grab your purse and head to the back of the cafe.

When you come back out of the bathroom you look towards the table you were sitting at and they are still in deep conversation. You huff out in frustration unable to handle it any more. You glance at the door which Changkyun is facing, though you assume he wont notice you leaving. You slip past them and out the door of the cafe not looking back. 

How could he? What’s wrong with me? I shouldn't have left. How dare she take my time away from my boyfriend?! Who does she think she is? Why did he let her do that?

Are only a few thoughts that run through your head as you find a bench near Changkyun’s car, after all he is your ride home, and slump onto it. You’re looking down on your phone fuming as 30 minutes pass by and Changkyun still hasn’t texted you or come to find you. Suddenly you hear a familiar voice say,

“There you are!” Changkyun is jogging towards you grinning, though when he sees your face the smile quickly disappears. He approaches you timidly and sits next to you looking down into your face, “are you okay?”

You look to the side Changkyun is not on and say, “No, I’m not…” You feel embarrassed for walking out but also upset that he has to leave for work soon. “You have to drop me off and an hour of our time together was taken from me.” When he doesn’t say anything for a while you turn your head toward him slightly. He’s looking at you with his mouth slightly agape seemingly at a lose for words. He looks down with a sad look, he closes his eyes and jerks his chin slightly to the left. 

“I’m so stupid,” is all he says, eyes still shut. You can’t help but feel bad for making him upset but you can’t seem to think of anything to say. When he opens his eyes again you can see a new determination as he looks at you. “I’ll make it up to you, I promise.”

“How?” you manage to choke out.

“How about you stay at my place for the night? My shift starts at 6 and I should be done by 12. You don’t usually sleep until 2 am anyway, right?” You smile at his rambling and grab his face in both hands completely forgetting about Sara’s interruption. You pull him into you and kiss his nose. When you pull away he looks slightly dazed from your sudden display of affection.

“I’ll be all alone in your apartment for 6 hours? Hm…” Your smile grows when you see him also smile. At this close proximity you can smell his sweet but manly scent. “I can probably find some ways to occupy myself for that time.” He closes the distance between you two quickly after you finish talking, kissing you as if you were all by yourselves. Though it takes a lot out of you to do it, you pull away from him before he gets too carried away in the middle of the busy side walk. He giggles slightly as you grab his hand and you two walk together to his car. 

granizodelreycaido replied to your post “granizodelreycaido replied to your post “But- What if- Ichigo- Went…”

Can we talk about the mad character development he could go through if he was played a little more realistic? Ridiculous. He was 15 when all this stuff started. Not even close to matured.

EXACTLY. Like, jfc the kid was only fifteen when he was dragged into this.

Like, let’s look at some of the things he’s had to deal with:

  • He literally woke up, at the age of nine, under his mother’s dead body. He blamed himself for her death for a long time.

  • He’s experienced being severely wounded on a regular basis, I mean Aizen nearly cut him in half once.

(Dude, you can literally see his upper body separating from the bottom in that second panel.)

  • He’s had to fight against huge monsters (hollows) and other even more powerful enemies.

(His first serious injury.)

  • He’s had to deal with almost turning into a hollow and then his inner hollow_ trying to take over_ and the fear that if the hollow wins, he’ll kill his friends and family. It resulted in him turning into the vasto lorde on the dome as well. He woke up to find that he’d not only cut off his enemy’s limbs, he’d put his sword through his own friend.

Much, much more beyond read more.

(Oops, times up.)

(First time Hichi took over his body.)

(And the last time.)

(You know you’re in a bad place mentally when you ask someone to cut off your limbs.)

  • He’s almost died like, at least three times. Actually, one of those times he pretty much did die.

(First near death experience.)

(Second near death experience.)

(Actually dead experience.)

(The fact that he knew there was a hole in his chest indicates he was at least partially conscious when he was killed.)

  • Anyone else remember Tesra literally torturing him?

(It was even worse in the anime than the manga.)

  • He’s repeatedly found that he’s been lied to or had the truth withheld from him by people he trusted. (About his dad, his mom, his zanpakuto…)

(Dad’s a shinigami?)

(Mom was a Quincy?)


  • He finds out that Aizen has pretty much orchestrated his entire existence.

(Creeper alert.)

  • He watches as all of the most powerful people he has ever known are swatted down like flies by the man he is supposed to defeat.

(First time he’s ever given up.)

  •  When he goes to achieve the Final Getsuga Tensho, he finds that the hollow isn’t quite as defeated as he thought.

(Oh, by the way, you looked like this when you fucked up Ulquiorra and your friend.)

  • He lost his powers and thereby the power to protect anyone from anything more than human. Also couldn’t see Rukia or any of his other friends who were spiritual bodies unless they were in a gigai. (Idk why she didn’t just hop in a gigai and say hi but.)

(It’s mentioned that the process of losing one’s shinigami powers is excruciatingly painful.)

(I guess this is goodbye.)

  • He was unable to help when someone was attacking his friends because of his loss of powers and they were obviously withholding information from him to keep him safe.

(Not really, no.)

  • Ginjo literally slashes his eyes and blinds him during training inside Yukio’s game. And then taunts him by threatening to kill his friends while he’s vulnerable.

(Ow. That’s all I’ve got.)

  • He finds pretty much every friend and family member suddenly turned against him. After all the work he puts into getting some powers back, he’s betrayed and has them stolen away.

(First time we’ve really seen him cry.)

  • While trapped in Quilge’s cage, he can hear everyone screaming for help as they’re slaughtered, reassuring each other that he was going to come save them.

(No pressure tho.)

  • When he fails Oetsu’s test, Oetsu literally tells him he’s not good enough and sends him home.

(Not good enough to play hero.)

  • Just when he’s regained his confidence after training at the Soul Palace, he finds he’s been betrayed again when he finds Ishida standing at Yhwach’s side.

(Betrayed again. Who hasn’t lied to him or betrayed him in some way at this point?)

  • Congratulations, the destruction of the entire world is now on your shoulders.

(A good example of Ichigo’s impulsivity fucking things up if there ever was one.)

majoringinsarcasm  asked:

Kageyama and Tsukishima are the couple that always drags each other no matter who's present. And a lot of people who don't know them are like "you guys are awful together you shouldn't insult each other". Which is when they combine forces. Form of: back hand shade! Shape of: middle finger! Because 1) how dare some 'commoner' insult Tsukki's king, and 2) who the hell gave someone permission to talk smack about Kag's royal pain in the ass? Step off outsiders, this court is too good for you.

ahh, those poor fools, tsuki and kage insulting each other is basically foreplay

they are that couple you just do NOT mess with: kageyama is the reactive type and tsukishima is slow but deadly, never-forget-never-forgive sort of guy so you can rest assured that it’s gonna be painful if you get on their bad side.

as i said before and probably will say again and again, i’m INSANELY weak to that weird power-play thing they have going on. imagine them as captain and vice-captain, which would only serve to amplify this tendency. 

during their second year, pre-dating, this little name calling thing starts to get a little (a lot) out of hand, it’s now playful and suggestive (“ugh, he’s gonna get bakageyama pissed again.” “wait, why is he smirking-” “wait did he just tell him to do as he’s ordered? is that tsukishima smiling??? what the HELL IS THIS”). anyway, team quickly learns to look the other way and do the la-la-la i don’t hear anything when kageyama and tsukishima start to throw away fake-insults while trying very hard to suppress their grin.

ofc, these happen during matches too, especially when kageyama yells at him for not focusing (i know tsuki has become a lot more invested but he’s still the type that gets discouraged easily)  “oh forgive me your highness for i am not worthy” “should i find someone worthy then?” –> kageyama quickly learns the last one gets things done. 

anonymous asked:

Can I pls prompt you cos I just cant get enough of your writings for sterek so. "We had a big fight and I said things I shouldn't have said and now you're gone for hours and wtf I got a call saying you're in an accident???! Dont die on me I still have to apologize and I havent proposed?????" Au :)))

Stiles isn’t really surprised the day he chooses to propose is the day a witch coven decide to move into Beacon Hills and kidnap him.

Despite the blood, he still thinks he can pull it off. After shower, that is. But, of course, he doesn’t even get in the vicinity of the bathroom before Derek and him are screaming at each other. They only have two default settings after something like this goes down: arguing and fucking. Tonight, he had really hoped for the latter.

It takes an hour before Stiles realises he doesn’t even know why they began the argument in the first place, other than that they are both scared shitless of losing each other. It’s a good sedge-way, he thinks, oddly enough, to propose. I love you, you self sacrificing asshole, now will you please do me the honour of walking down the aisle with me? You know, if you’re into aisles. Stiles has no idea how Derek feels about aisles. He’s not exactly religious, but he is fond of tradition. Maybe he’ll want a forest wedding.

That is, if he’ll want a wedding at all, because the next thing Stiles knows he’s screaming for Derek to get out and Derek is slamming the door in his face, storming out of the loft.

They’ve both done the dramatic walk out before, but when Derek still isn’t home three hours later, his cell phone off, Stiles starts to panic. He tries calling the pack, but Derek has never gone to anyone but him when he’s feeling scared or angry, so he knows he shouldn’t feel too worried that none of them have seen him.

Except, he is. Worried. Terrified out of his freaking mind. What if the witches are still here? No-one ever stays dead in this town. They could be torturing Derek for getting in the way of their stupid “human sacrifice”. Which, you know, Stiles is really tired of being referred to as.

What if Kate has come back?

Stiles’ stomach lurches. It’s always in the back of his mind. Kate. If it had been up to him in Mexico, she would probably be dead. He doesn’t care how much the thought scares him, reminds him of the Nogitsune. Donovan. Everything he tires so hard to forget, but still haunts his dreams even now, waking him up kicking and screaming in the middle of the night until Derek holds him and whispers it’s okay. What she did to Derek, to his family, makes him sick. Sick enough to know he wouldn’t hesitate to kill her if she ever tried to hurt him again. He hopes she never does so he doesn’t have to.

He shouldn’t have told him to leave. Why had he said that? He’s never told Derek to leave before. Fuck. What if he took it-

No. Derek knows Stiles loves him. It took them a long time, for both of them, but they got here. They got there god-dammit!

Putting his head in his hands, he tries to breathe. He wouldn’t actually have left. He wouldn’t have. Right?

When his phone rings, he almost drops it, his hands are shaking so badly. “Derek!” he gasps, sinking to the floor in relief. “Derek, I am so, so sorry. I-”


He recognises Deaton’s voice immediately. Deaton who never calls unless- “No.” He shakes his head. “No.”

Stiles, there’s been an accident. I found Derek near the Preserve. I need you to come to the veterinary right away.”

“How bad is it?” Stiles asks, not knowing which way to turn as he scrambles up from the floor to hunt for his car keys. He had thrown them somewhere in the middle of the fight. Why the fuck had he gone and done that?

Deaton doesn’t answer.

“HOW BAD IS IT?” he screams, wondering if he can just jump start the Jeep without the keys, already running out of the loft and down the three flights of stairs to do just that. He doesn’t have time to keep looking.

“Just get here, Stiles,” Deaton says, before hanging up.

Stiles freezes when he makes it outside. The sight of the Camaro door wide open, engine still running, makes him dizzy with fear. He can barely think as he dives into the driver’s seat and puts the car in gear.

Please don’t be dead.

Please don’t be dead.

Please don’t be dead.

Keep reading

Possible scenarios for season 4: Possible episode opening scene
  • *the camera goes through the views of London in a quiet, calm evening. In reaches a side alley, goes through the wall of a building entering the flat in 221B, in which things are clearly not calm. We go through the kitchen, smoked and scorched, and reach the living room, where we meet a pissed off John Watson and an impatient Sherlock holding a fire extinguisher, standing in front of a crying baby in a trolley*
  • John: Jesus! Sherlock! *picks up the baby and embraces her* what the hell?! you said you had a "problem"!!!
  • Sherlock: I did.
  • John: you should have given a wider explanation!
  • Sherlock: what else did you want me to explain?
  • John: maybe, I don't know, "the bloody flat is on fire!!"
  • Sherlock: That wasn't the problem. The problem was that your baby wouldn't stop crying.
  • John: right, why would a baby cry when there's a bloody fire?!
  • Sherlock: I honestly wouldn't know. I put the fire off a while ago, yet she's still crying.
  • John: of course she is, she's traumatized!
  • Sherlock: traumatized? Of what? She wasn't anywhere near the fire!
  • *The baby starts crying harder*
  • John: oh no... Sshhh.. *anxiously moving from side to side, trying to calm her. Her cry weakens*
  • John: how did this even happen?
  • Sherlock: it was just a little experiment going slightly unexpected.
  • John: unex - you can't have experiments when the baby's here!
  • Sherlock: what?! Why not?!
  • John: because you have to give her your full attention, she's far more important then your stupid experiments!
  • Sherlock: my experiments could lead to significant science breakthroughs, while your baby can barely chew her own food, so part me if I -
  • John: *fiercely* Sherlock, you just put my daughter's life in serious danger. Do you even care?
  • Sherlock: *nervously* she wasn't in any danger, I had everything under control!!
  • *the baby starts crying again*
  • *from the sided alley of the building, the shouting from 221b is vaguely heard. Someone is standing there, only seen from over their shoulder, wearing a coat's hood covering the back of their head, listening*
  • *back in the apartment*
  • Sherlock: *cranky* don't you know how to stop this? I've tried everything.
  • John: have you tried holding her?
  • Sherlock: have I tried - what?
  • John: holding her. In your arms.
  • Sherlock: why would she need me doing that?
  • John: because she's a baby, she needs warmth.
  • Sherlock: if she needs warmth, why was she so upset about a fire?
  • John: FOR CHRIST SAKE - !
  • *puts the baby in the trolley before she starts crying again*
  • John: Can I trust you? Hmm? Can I? Because right now, I'm having serious doubts whether I can leave you with the most precious thing in the world to me.
  • Sherlock: of course you can trust - why do you care so much if I'm good with Elizabeth anyway?
  • John: Because we want to make you godfather!!
  • *silence*
  • Sherlock: ...what?
  • John: yes, yes.
  • Sherlock: you - you want to make me -
  • John: yes. But we can't do it unless we /know/ we can trust you. With her. With Elizabeth.
  • Sherlock: *looks down, frowning, calculating*
  • John: *looks at him, trying to read him*
  • Sherlock: well.. If she's going to be my goddaughter she'll have to build a stronger character.
  • John: what?
  • Sherlock: she'll have to get use to all this. If she is her father's daughter.
  • John:
  • *The door opens and Mary walks in*
  • John: ah !
  • Mary: I came as fast as I could - oh my god! You really burned the whole place!
  • Sherlock: THE BABY WASN'T ON FIRE!
  • Mary: Jesus, Sherlock... (Checks on sleeping Elizabeth in the trolley)
  • John: *chuckles* unbelievable... Only you can screw up babysitting that bad. I honestly cannot think of a way things could get any worse.
  • *an orgasmic woman moan is heard abruptly*
  • *everyone's heads turn to Sherlock's phone on the table, which is still lighted*
  • Mary: what was that? Are you watching "movies" while the baby's here?
  • John: *quietly* Sherlock... Sherlock what was that?
  • Sherlock: *keeps staring at his phone with horror*
  • John: Tell me this is not what I think it is.
  • Mary: John, what is going on?
  • John: This is impossible. Her phone is here, in this apartment!
  • Sherlock: *walks slowly towards the table, never breaking his look from the phone. John takes a step forward after him)
  • John: Sherlock, She's dead. She's been dead for years. She was never in witness protection. (Realizes) You knew that, didn't you?
  • Sherlock: *reads the text, still horrified*
  • Mary: what is going on here?!
  • John: what does it say? *Sherlock doesn't answer* Sherlock, what does it say?
  • An unmistakable voice from the door: 'You didn't have to burn your kitchen just to cook me dinner, Mr Holmes'.
  • *everyone turns around. John is shocked. Mary is overwhelmed and confused. Sherlock stares with an unreadable mix of emotions. Irene Adler is standing at the door, hair tied up, black dress, her lips are smirking, but her eyes express something other than that, something more painful. The camera phone, supposed to be safely locked in Sherlock's desk drawer, is held tightly in her hand.*
  • *dramatic opening theme start playing*
A prompt fill from this list.

“Is there a reason  why I shouldn't ?” She asked airily.

Merlin clenched his jaw. He shut the door behind him.

The last thing he wanted was for Gaius to see Morgana sprawled naked on his bed. “Your presence here is dangerous.”  Merlin looked anywhere but at her nude body. His gaze roamed the floor of his small room until it found her shift and black dress.

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

Are you still taking prompts? If so, could you write some more of the Gallovich Queer Club thing you've been doing? Ian and Mickey with Mandy, Carl etc?

// yes I am totally taking prompts! and wow thanks for requesting something from that idea, not many people have read it :) let’s see where this goes… //

// NOTE: you don’t need to have read the previous fics I’ve written in this universe, they all work as oneshots :) //

Carl was holding Yevgeny as he waited for Ian to come back from his therapy session. ‘So does Ian just live here now?’ he asked Mickey.

He glanced across the sofa to Carl. ‘We haven’t really talked about it…but he wants to be here. And I like him being here,’ he said with a note of finality.

Carl nodded. ‘What are you going to tell Yev?’

Mickey couldn’t keep up with how quickly the kid’s mind jumped from question to question. ‘What are you talking about?’

‘As he gets older, he’s going to start asking questions. He’ll ask why Ian sleeps in your bedroom and why his mom and aunt are sleeping across the hall.’ He wasn’t speaking rudely, just curiously.

'Look it’s not as if I haven’t thought about that,’ Mickey began awkwardly. In truth Mickey had been thinking about it more and more since the day he first held his son. 'I don’t know, honestly, we’ll just figure things out as we go.’ He didn’t like talking about it.

'Does Ian want to be Yev’s dad?’

'I don’t know, ok? Jesus.’ Neither of them spoke for a moment. Mickey sighed. 'I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have snapped like that. Sorry.’

Carl shrugged. ‘It’s fine. Don’t worry about it.’ But he didn’t ask any more questions after that. Thankfully Mandy walked in from her bedroom, just wearing panties and a t-shirt.

'Hey, is Ian not home yet?’

Mickey shook his head. ‘Doesn’t finish therapy until four. Shouldn’t be back for, like, forty minutes.’

'He left the house at one-thirty,’ Mandy said. 'He told me his session was at two. Mick where is he?

'He said was going back to his house for a couple hours. Said he wanted to see Fiona and Liam…why did he tell you his session was at two? Shit,’ he said, immediately standing up and heading for the door. 'Carl? Mandy?’

'Let me get some clothes on,’ Mandy dashed back to her room whilst Mickey put Yev in the stroller. She emerged a minute later with Svetlana.

'She told me,’ Svetlana said. 'I want to help find Ian.’

She and Mickey looked at each other silently for a moment. Then he nodded. ‘Ok. Thanks.’ They left.


They’d so far discovered that Ian hadn’t shown up for his appointment, and Carl had called Debbie and learned that he’d not been to the Gallagher’s either. It had been almost an hour. Mickey was starting to sweat nervously.

'I should’ve gone with him. I should’ve fucking gone with him!’ he muttered to himself, kicking an old beer bottle on the sidewalk.

'Don’t blame yourself,’ Mandy told him firmly. 'Let’s try the alibi, yeah?’

'Yeah, I have a shift in thirty minutes anyway,’ Svetlana said.

Mickey glanced at her. ‘You can blow it off if you want.’

She stared at him, taken aback. ‘Thank you. But we need the money.’ They all kept walking in silence, save for Yev’s light snoring.

'What can I get you?’ Kev yelled in greeting as they entered. He grinned, having not seen Mickey in a while.

'Looking for Ian,’ Mickey said.

'He’s not been here. Hey, how’s he doing?’ Kev asked, speaking more quietly now that they were at the bar.

'He’s missing,’ Carl told him.

'Shit. You check the hospitals? Emergency rooms?’

They all looked at each other. ‘We didn’t think of that,’ Mandy admitted. Mickey looked like he was going to throw up.

'It might not be that bad,’ Kev said hurriedly. 'Why don’t you try Boystown?’

'Why would he go there?’ Svetlana wondered.

'Why would he want to go there?’ Mickey murmured to himself, staring at his shoes.

'Ok I’m going to shut up and pour you a shot,’ Kev did so, lining up glasses for Mandy and Svetlana too. He tossed Carl a juicebox.

'Mick, we should probably head down there. It’s plausible,’ Mandy said.

He nodded. ‘Thanks Kev,’ he said.

'Yeah, hope you find him.’

Svetlana leaned down to lightly kiss Yevgeny, and then paused before hugging Mickey. It took a second before he hugged her back. It was brief but affectionate.

'Shit, you going straight again Mickey?’ Kermit yelled, laughing.

'Not fucking likely,’ Mandy spat at him as she wrapped her arms around Svetlana’s waist and kissed her, rough and hard. Carl grinned.

'Well that’s definitely bought in more business,’ said Kev amidst the wolf whistles from surrounding drinkers.

'Bye,’ Svetlana said to Mandy, grinning and licking her lips.

They headed out, the men in the bar shouting for Mandy to stay too. She just stuck up her finger as they left.


'So…this is Boystown?’ Carl said, looking around in wonder. 'Why have I never been here before?’

'Because it’s a fucking shithole,’ Mickey told him.

'Let’s just find Ian. And Carl, do not wander off anywhere,’ Mandy said, 'Can you push the stroller?’ She passed it over to him.


They first went for the club where Ian worked. It was fairly dead inside, with it still being early.

'Hey!’ Mickey yelled at the manager, who was stood near the bar. 'You seen Ian? Ian Gallagher?’

'No. But if you see him, tell him he needs to come by and collect his tips from last weekend.’

Mickey frowned. ‘He’s not had a shift here for nearly a month. He said he called to take some time off. He’s - sick.’

'He was here on Saturday. Mixing drinks and dancing as usual. Stopped giving lap dances though. Shame. He was one of the best.’

Mickey didn’t say anything. He just turned around and walked out as fast as he could. He felt like his head was going to explode. Carl was first after him.

'Are you ok?’

'Why would he lie to me?’ Mickey said. He was furiously trying not to cry. 'When has he even had time to come down here? Why would he…is he sick of being around me?’

'The guy said he stopped giving lap dances. That’s proof that Ian isn’t sick of being around you.’

Mickey didn’t say anything for a second. ‘I’m pissed with him but mostly I’m fucking worried,’ he told Carl.

'Let’s take the L to the hospital?’ Carl suggested.

'Mick!’ Mandy’s voice came from behind them. 'This guy saw Ian.’

A fit man in black jeans walked beside her. ‘I just sold to him. About an hour ago,’ he said quietly, glancing around to make sure no-one else could hear.

'Fuck,’ Mickey sighed. 'So he’s lost and he’s high? What did he buy?’

'Uh, coke, E. And some weed.’

'Why would he do that?’ Mickey asked Mandy, his eyes wide and desperate.

'He didn’t say where he was going,’ the dealer added.

'Yeah you can fuck off. And don’t fucking sell to him again,’ Mickey said, and swiftly kneed him in the groin.


They were on their way to get the L, walking under the bridge, when he saw them.

'Hey!’ Ian’s voice. Mickey immediately spun around. Ian was slumped on the ground, leaning against part of the bridge. He ran over and crouched before him.

'Ian, what the fuck? What have you taken?’

Ian’s eyes were unfocused. ‘Ah…a little of this, little of that,’ he said unhelpfully.

Mickey took his hand. It was cold. Probably from sitting out here. ‘Ian…why?’

Ian shrugged, unable to meet his eyes. ‘I don’t know. I don’t know anymore,’ he whispered. ‘I just didn’t feel like therapy…it feels like I’m not making any progress…and I know that would upset you…so…I don’t know,’ he shrugged apologetically.

'No, Ian, not knowing where you are and finding out you’ve been snorting coke upsets me. Actually going to therapy, that’s progress. You have to talk to me if you’re worried, if you’re unhappy. Please…the fact you’ve been thinking these things in silence…Ian when I said I loved you I fucking meant it. I need you to tell me this stuff so I can help you. I am never going to be upset with you about something like that.’

'Sorry I couldn’t be honest,’ he said. He was crying now. 'I’m sorry Mick, I’m just so fucking scared because I can’t control anything in my head anymore. Some days I can’t see myself. And I’m terrified that one day you’re going to realise that you don’t know who you’re lying next to anymore. Because I sure as shit couldn’t tell you for certain. Every day it's…a mess. Every day, Mick,’ he sobbed, leaning into Mickey’s chest. Mickey held him.

'There is no way that I wouldn’t recognise the only man I’ve ever loved. The only man who taught me how to be free. And now I guess it’s my turn to help get you free. Mess? I know mess. Nothing will stop me from loving you. Nothing. We can and will get through anything. But you’ve gotta meet me halfway, where you can. Don’t just leave me ignorant back home while you’re out using this shit to cope. Please. Please, Ian.’

'Yeah, I’ll try to talk to you. I promise,’ Ian breathed Mickey in for a moment before reaching into his pockets. 'Can you take these? I - I don’t want to have them on me anymore. Just in case,’ he told him.

'Of course,’ Mickey said, pocketing it. 'Thank you.’

'I do love you too…I love you and that’s why I hate myself for all of this even more.’

'Don’t, Ian. Don’t hate yourself. Just don’t. You’re not worthy of hate. Trust me,’ he told him sincerely. Ian just looked at him and cried. And neither boy could really tell whether they were good tears or bad tears.

'Mickey please can we just go home?’

'Sure, yeah…your house isn’t far,’ he said, helping Ian stand.

'No,’ Ian gently tugged at his shirt. 'Our house. Our home.’

Mickey smiled in spite of everything and kissed him. ‘That’s home?’

'It’s where you are.’

And then Mickey was crying too.

'Well that answers my question,’ said Carl. They all looked at him, confused - but Mickey nodded and smiled at him slightly.

// the end. hope this was ok…please keep prompting me for fic-a-day-for-may! //