i think this is the only time we've seen her smile

So I thought to myself: but why does he get a new jacket? And then this happened.  But one possibility of many.  I blame @acrobat-elle for this.  Starts pre-new-jacket.


Stepping quietly across the living room floor, Killian peers out the nearest window.  It’s still the middle of February, and as he’s gathered, winter never seems to end in this realm, as surely as summer persists in Neverland.  He gives the fire a stir before he rests against the windowsill, the divots in the delicately carved wood sure to press a pattern into his flesh.  But there’s something about the quiet, the illusion of total solitude, the complete and utter darkness, that’s remarkably comforting. So he stays, and presses the palm of his hand against the glass, where the wind and the biting cold have begun to draw sharp, frozen figures.

“Your hand’s gonna freeze to the glass.”

Keep reading

Your Move

The nine times Simon and Baz prank each other and the one time they don’t

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6 Chapter 7 Chapter 8 Chapter 9 Chapter 10

March 28

Baz

I haven’t had nightmares like that in years.

           Replaying the scene of my mother’s death is a classic, and it’s been a while since I’ve dreamt it, but it almost always has me waking in a cold sweat.  Occasionally I see it as I did when I was a child, but often it’s me as I am now, and the last thing I see is the look in her eye.  It’s not afraid, it’s just sad, disappointed that I’ve carried my sickness with me all these years.  That I never finished what she started by sending the nursery up in flames.  That I’m still walking the planet with vampire’s poison in my blood.

           There’s always the reassuring thought that I’ll wake up as soon as I’ve seen that look and the fire takes over, but this time it doesn’t work.  I keep dreaming, and it gets worse.  It turns into the nightmare that haunted my dreams almost every night for all of fifth year.

           I have to bite Simon.  I’m starved of blood and he is placed before me, veins pumping like drums in my head.  Someone somewhere is egging me on, sometimes it’s Fiona’s voice, sometimes my father’s, sometimes my mother’s.  I keep telling them no, and then Simon picks up a knife.  He tells me it’s okay and he presses the blade to his neck, tracing a shallow line and drawing just the thinnest stream of blood but the smell alone is enough to set my senses blazing.  I’m begging him to stop and he just walks calmly up to me, like the hero that he’s always been destined to be.  

           Sometimes I wake up in time.  Sometimes I don’t.

           When I don’t, I give in.  I always give in.

           His blood tastes real and alive and after one drop I lose control, drinking from his neck like I’ll never eat again.

           Sometimes I stay in the nightmare long enough to feel him run his sword through my stomach before I wake up.

           That’s what happened last night.  Before I was shaken awake, clutching at the phantom blade in my stomach, to find him gazing down at me with wide, fearful eyes.

           In the moment all I wanted was to pull him into my arms, to convince myself that he was real, we were awake and alive. Well, him at least.

           Instead I burst into tears in front of him.  Of course.

           He made no further move to comfort me, which is for the best.  Where in Merlin’s name would we have gone from there?

           When my alarm goes off this morning, I don’t bother hitting snooze.  I just slam the off-button and sit up.  My eyes are fuzzy and heavy, and I can feel the tears dried onto my cheeks.  I feel like a bear waking up from a terrible hibernation.

           Simon hauls himself out of bed, his curls standing up off his head like he was the one who didn’t get any sleep.  When he looks over at me, there’s a sort of caution in his gaze.  “You alright?” he asks tentatively.

           “Brilliant, Snow,” I croak, my voice raw from crying and the little sleep I got, “never been better.”

           He doesn’t move to get ready or even get off the bed, just keeps staring at me, and I can only imagine what I must look like right now.  Red, puffy eyes and tear-stained cheeks, probably a rat’s nest of hair.  A wreck.  A vulnerable wreck.  Wonderful.

           “Maybe…” he ventures, trailing off.

           “Words, Snow, I’m not in the mood to read your mind.”

           “Maybe you should skip class this morning.”

           I scowl at him.  “I know I look like death, but it’s nothing a hairbrush won’t fix.”

           “No,” he shakes his head, bronze curls falling in his eyes, “I mean you need your sleep.  I can say you’re sick or something.”

           I raise an eyebrow.  “Since when are you invested in my well-being, Snow?”

           “You didn’t hear yourself last night,” he mutters, and I think I see him shudder, staring at the floor, and it dawns on me that I must have been talking in my sleep.  My blood runs cold imagining what he might have heard, what I might have revealed.

           “No need to worry yourself,” I say, though I can barely keep my eyes open.

           At this point, he gets up and crosses over to me. I’m too shocked to protest when he gently pushes me back to the mattress and pulls the covers over me again, but I look up at him quizzically.

           “Just go back to sleep,” he tells me before heading to the bathroom to change.

           I’m practically asleep again by the time he leaves the room, shutting the door slowly and quietly, like I’m a sick child in his care.  The thought should be terrifying, but I’m out like a light before I can finish it.

*** 

           Even though I sleep for another few hours, I still wake up in a bad mood.  The rain pouring down the window doesn’t help, and I just have too many thoughts swimming around my head to feel refreshed.

           Second class has already started, so I take my time in the shower, scrubbing the feeling of the sword away from my torso. If I think too long about my nightmare, the tear-tracks on my face start to feel like Snow’s blood, and I rub the sensation off until my cheeks are burning and red.

           I don’t think about the nightmares.

           I don’t think about the concern in his eyes last night.

           I don’t think about his gentle touch pushing me back into bed.

           Instead, I think about our game.

           Snow never made his move.  So what does that mean?  He sure didn’t look like he wanted to pull anything on me this morning.  In fact, he looked quite the opposite, almost guilty, like he felt responsible.

           So who’s move is it?

           Mine,I think as I shut off the water. He forfeited his turn, so now it’s my move.

***

           I wait until classes are over to act.  I haven’t seen much of him since this morning (Crowley knows he can’t be seen talking to me in a civil manner outside the room), but I find him in the study hall.  Bunce and Wellbelove sit across from him, the three of them engrossed in their notes and textbooks.  Snow has a set of earphones in, and his phone sits on the table beside his work.

           None of them notice me when I come in, nor when I take a seat on the other side of the room.  I open one of my own books but I can’t concentrate when I look down at it. I’m still feeling the effects of the terrible night I had, plus I’m not even here to study.

           I see Snow say something to Bunce without removing his earphones.  He must have the music low enough that he can still hear.  Perfect.

           I wait a few more minutes, until he’s lost in his notes again, before pulling my wand out of my pocket.  I won’t be able to swing the wand as usual with this many people around, but I discreetly aim it at Snow from across the room.  More specifically, at Snow’s phone.

           “A little bit louder now,” I whisper.

           Snow jumps back from his table, frantically ripping at his earphones as his music goes from quiet to blasting in less than a second.  Wellbelove actually stands in shock, and someone’s papers go flying.  

           I don’t see the tail end of Snow’s reaction, as I have returned to staring pointlessly at my text.  When I glance back up, he’s turning the phone over and over in his hands, trying to figure out what happened.  Bunce hands him her earphones.  Classic.

           This time he only puts a bud in one ear, and he’s visually stiffer, ready to react if it happens again.  Which it will, of course it will.  Once he’s dropped his guard and I get bored of skimming over my book.

           This only takes approximately fifteen minutes. After another five, he’s noticeably flagging, his eyes drooping closed, the heel of his hand pressing a red mark into his cheek.

           As if he lost sleep last night.  As if he’d had the nightmares about killing me.  Well, not me, I suppose.  Someone who matters to him as much as he matters to me.  Wellbelove, maybe.

           That thought alone makes me sick.  Stupid Wellbelove and her stupid perfect hair and perfect face and perfect clothes. I almost want to turn my curses on her.

           They haven’t dated in almost a year now, but the fact still remains that they did.  At one point, Simon looked at her in that way that makes bystanders sigh and go all mushy.  He doesn’t look at her that way anymore, but it’s like a stain that won’t come out.  I can still see it, or imagine that I’m seeing it.  I wonder if it will ever go away.

           It’s with this thought in mind that I cast the spell a second time, expecting some sort of satisfaction when he once again jumps a mile into the air, but finding nothing but bitterness.  Stupid Snow and his stupid golden curls and splatter of moles.  Fuck him.  Fuck the way his eyes turn into oceans in the dark.  Fuck his crooked smile and the way his laugh makes the rain turn into sunshine.

           I forget to look away when he catches me glaring at him, and too late I see him figure it out.  He doesn’t glare back defiantly like I expect him to, just holds my gaze levelly like he understands.  What in Merlin’s name he’s understanding is beyond me.

           Thrusting my chin forward I mouth the words “your move” slowly and obviously. He just nods once before turning back to his books, deliberately leaving his earphones on the table.

anonymous asked:

You all are so talented. This one is for the Modern Glasgow world. We've seen a few of Jamie's incidences from the books in this story and how Claire helped him through it. Could we see one of Claire's and how Jamie reacts and helps her?

anonymous asked: Hi! Love Modern Glasgow! We’ve seen some of Jamie’s misadventures from the book get translated into this story. Could we see one of Claire’s? How does Jamie and the family react?

Modern Glasgow AU

“And ye’re sure ye dinna need some extra help? There’s no shame in asking – the drought this year has made it hard for everyone.”

“I ken that – but I’ll manage.” Joe Fraser extended his work-roughened hand to grip Jamie’s. “And I thank ye for yer offer. But Rosie and me – weel, we always plan for this. The coos will have a bit of a lean year, but nobody will starve.”

Jamie nodded and opened the driver door of his battered Land Rover. “We’re settled at the Big House now – I’m just a phone call away.”

“Oh, that’s right! Ye and the missus and how many bairns, now? Three?”

“Five,” Jamie laughed. “Can ye believe it?”

Joe slid his hands into his pockets, shaking his head. “Mary, Michael, and Bride! Yer poor wife.”

“She had more of a say in it than I did, Joe. She kent weel what she was I for when she took up wi’ me. And she’s the head doctor at the clinic in Broch Mordha now – but I’m sure ye’ve heard already. Broken bones, cuts, you name it and she can fix it.” He slammed the door shut and turned on the ignition, leaning out through the open window to wave goodbye.

“I’ll be back in a week or so – and let me know how the animals are getting on, aye? We always plan for this as weel.”

Joe waved a final hearty goodbye and trudged back to his barn, the setting sun striking the dust brought up by his boots.

Jamie sighed, ran his hands through his hair, and reached for the glove box, fishing around for his phone. Thumbing it to life, he couldn’t help but smile at the lock screen – a selfie Fergus had taken of him and his four siblings. They all had massive grins on their faces, even ten-month-old Julia, proudly showing her five teeth.

It hadn’t been easy adjusting to life in the Scottish Highlands when living in their cramped Glasgow flat – or in Paris, in Fergus’ case – had been the only life his children had ever known. But he and Claire knew they had made the right decision – right for their family, and right for the two of them. Selling his stake in the printing business had netted quite the tidy sum, and she was more than willing to give up her high-pressure surgery job for a quieter pace at the rural clinic. That they both spent much more time with the children – watching them grow, guiding them, showing them how to live – made every single sacrifice worth it.

But now Jamie frowned – ten missed calls, just in the hour or so he’d spent with Joe.

Four from the Big House’s number. Two from Fergus. Two from Jenny. One each from Ian and Murtagh.

Christ.

He swallowed and quickly called Murtagh.

“Thank God,” his godfather’s voice crackled through the line. “Ye need to come home.”

Jamie’s heart stopped. “What is it? The bairns?”

“No, lad. No. They’re fine. It’s Claire.”

With shaking hands, Jamie activated the Range Rover’s BlueTooth and tore out of poor Joe’s driveway.

“Tell me everything!” he desperately shouted into the speakerphone, swerving around the potholes in the dirt road connecting Joe’s farm to the motorway.

“She got a call, around midday. An old woman having heart trouble – perhaps a stroke. She left the number here and drove out to make a house call.”

Jamie roared down the motorway, limbs shaking.

“When she didna come back an hour ago, we started calling her mobile. No answer. And then Jenny called the woman’s house – her son said she was fine, and that Claire had left two hours before that, and said she was coming straight home. So nobody has seen or heard from her for three hours.”

“We need to go find her!” Jamie screamed, passing two sedans full of tourists and simply not caring that he was at double the speed limit.

“Aye, lad. We do. Calm down. I’ve got Ian and Jenny and Suzette here, waiting for ye. We can each drive out and search. Fergus wants to go – ”

“No. Put him on the phone. Please. I’ll be there in five minutes.”

Muffled sounds – then Fergus’ surprisingly deep voice. Jamie blinked, remembering that his eldest son was now eighteen. A man grown.

“Papa?”

“Listen to me, Fergus. Do yer brother and sisters ken what’s going on?”

“No – they’ve been playing with their cousins. I want to help you search - ”

“No, Fergus. You must stay behind. They canna know what’s going on. Do you understand?”

“But –”

“Damn it, Fergus. You need to protect them. They need an adult to watch over them – to keep them safe. And that adult – that *man* - that’s you, *mon fils*.” Do ye understand me?”

Silence. Then – “Yes. I understand.”

“Good lad. I’m just turning off the road. Can ye ask them to meet me outside?”

Thirty seconds later, he pulled up to the main house and jumped out of the Land Rover, leaving the engine running. It was full dark now, but he recognized the silhouettes waiting in the driveway.

No time to feel, now. Just to think – and to act. And to find Claire.

Five agonizing minutes to plan – four separate cars, driven by Jamie, Ian, Jenny, and Murtagh. Suzette would ride with her husband and continue calling all the places where Claire could have gone – including Mrs. Crook in the main house, just in case Claire appeared at home.

Ian handed each driver their own walkie-talkie – the best way to communicate, given the patchy mobile service.

Then their caravan crunched down the gravel driveway and back to the main road, tracing Claire’s movements.

So many memories flashed in front of Jamie’s eyes – Claire burning dinner in their first apartment; Claire bravely introducing her family to her ex-fiancee, just a few months before; Claire’s ecstatic smile as she showed him William for the first time; Claire’s beautiful face, just this morning, as he gave her what they had come to call a Full English Breakfast…

If she was gone –

No.

For the bairns’ sake, he would push on. But not for his own.

So he prayed, fervently, in every language he knew. For God had brought them together – why would He dare to pull them apart?

Up and down the small country lanes, high beams bobbing in the pitch dark.

A light drizzle had started.

Was she cold? Was she shivering?

He kept dialing her mobile. Over and over. And every time it went straight to voicemail.

“You’ve reached Dr. Claire Fraser. I’m not available at the moment – ”

“You’ve reached Dr. Claire Fraser – ”

There was no life without her.

“You’ve reached – ”

And then he turned a corner – and she was there.

Face glowing with the soft light emanating from the boot of her Volvo, rummaging around for something.

It took everything Jamie had to not run off the road as he slammed on the brake and fell out of the car, running toward his wife like a man possessed.

“Jamie?”

Then he caught her up in a tremendous bear hug, and didn’t let her go.

“Are ye all right? For God’s sake, Claire, are ye all right?”

“No,” she gasped. “Jamie – you’re crushing me.”

So he did let go – and her face swam with his tears.

“Hush,” she whispered, framing his face with cold hands. “Hush. It’s all right now. I’ve just got two flat tires and no mobile service. I’m fine.”

“Are ye all right? Truly?”

“Yes,” she said softly, patiently. “I’m cold and I’m starving. You didn’t happen to bring any food, did you? I could murder some neeps and tatties right about now.”

He let out a strangled laugh, and kissed her long and hard.

“Ye gave me quite the fright,” he whispered against her temple. “I did think ye were maybe dead.”

“Why are you so dramatic?” she teased, digging her hands in the back pockets of his jeans. “You know I can fend for myself.”

“Aye, I do. But – ” he swallowed.

“Hush, love. I know.”

Ten seconds – he counted and cherished every one of her heartbeats.

“I need to be inside ye now, Claire. I – I need to feel whole.”

She kissed him gently. “Tonight. Let’s get home. I want you to take care of me. Can you do that?”

“Aye,” he pledged. “Aye, I can do that.”

She nodded. “Good. Now can you please tell whoever is on the walkie that I’m all right, and I need a tow? I just want to go home, and kiss the children, and then be one with you.”

He inhaled the curls at the top of her head – damp with the rain – and trotted back to the Land Rover. Murmured a few words into the walkie – and Claire couldn’t help but smile when four cheers crackled back.

“And don’t think I won’t scold ye when we get home,” Jamie admonished. “I’m just too happy to have ye here wi’ me to say anything else. But don’t think ye’re getting off easy for scaring me half to death.”

She sauntered over and wrapped her arms around his neck. “I look forward to it,” she whispered, grinding her hips against his.

He playfully smacked her bum, then wrapped her legs around his hips and hoisted her up against him, leaning against the Land Rover, devouring her mouth.

Not even the beeps and high beams and cheers of Ian, Jenny, Murtagh, and Suzette broke them apart.

“Shall we leave the two of ye out here alone, then?” Murtagh jibed – silently sagging with relief against Suzette.

Claire pulled away, grinning. “If I knew it took me disappearing for him to get all riled up like this – I’d do it more often!”

“No’ bloody likely,” Jamie growled, pulling his wife back for more.

lordzuuko  asked:

Malin for the love of Sheith please give me that Single Dad AU we've been talking about PLEEEEASEEEE. A drabble. ANYTHING. /on the verge of dying

Shiro was jittering in the cold wind. It was only October but at this time of night, it might as well be the middle of January. He glanced down at his watch. Almost midnight. He shook his head and pulled his hoodie closer. He should’ve worn on a jacket.

Why of all nights did Ro have to get sick tonight, he thought. He had a meeting first thing tomorrow morning and instead of getting some sleep he was wandering the streets in the middle of the night to buy Ro some cough syrup, as well as the Pumpkin Cheesecake ice cream she requested. He felt bad for even thinking like this because he knew it wasn’t Ro’s fault she got sick and it was even worse for her, but he was exhausted.


After he grabbed the medicine from the shelf he decided on a detour to the candy aisle, if he’s here anyway he might as well, he thought.

When he turned around the corner he ran smack into someone juggling multiple chocolate bars, as well as a family-sized bag of chips.

‘’Keith?’’ Shiro asked astounded. 

Keep reading

alittlemissfit  asked:

126. "I’m a lucky girl. I’ll admit that." For the drabble challenge! If you want. :)

She’s still wrestling with the tricky little catch on her new grey pencil skirt, feeling slightly claustrophobic in the stall closest to the far wall in the fifth-floor ladies’ room, when the outside door swings open and three or four pairs of heels go clacking across the tile.

“God, I thought they were NEVER gonna let us take a break. I didn’t go through the fucking Academy and bust my ass in the field for five years just to sit through an entire day’s worth of slides on how not to sexually harass myself.”

A derisive snort. “We’re the least of the Bureau’s goddamn problems — six women in that room, I counted —”

“I bet every last one of us’s had to nut-punch at least one of the fifty-three men in there. Counted them, too.”

The sounds of several of the stalls being occupied, a little cross-chatter about who’s had to nut-punch whom (and who might actually have requested that act — peals of laughter echo off the walls).

Wardrobe finally in order, she’s reaching for the latch when she hears something from the direction of the sinks that makes her curious; she stops, listening with wide eyes.

“Spooky Mulder’s the only one I wouldn’t have minded getting inappropriately touched by —”

Bawdy cackling. How irritating — grown women, FBI agents, for god’s sake. Her pulse begins to pound.

Keep reading

stellagibsonisalifeforce  asked:

MSR Prompt: "With how long we've known each other, I just don't understand why you'd think I would say yes to that." "Well, hope springs eternal. Isn't that what they say?"

Oh god, I’ve had this prompt in my inbox forever, I’m so sorry for the delay!

Hope Springs Eternal

“Where are you going?”

Scully paused in the midst of buttoning up her shirt, turning to look across the bedroom at her partner in the bed. She was hoping to be up and out before he woke, but it wasn’t meant to be. “Out.”

“Where?”

“Just to the mall. I won’t be long.”

“The mall?” Yawning, Mulder sat up in the bed, the comforter pooling at his bare waist. “What’s the occasion? Your mom’s birthday?”

“Not for another six months.”

“My birthday?” Scully gave him her best “I am not amused” look. “Well it’s not your birthday, is it?”

“It’s nobody’s birthday today Mulder, at least that I know of. I just need to pop to the mall for something.”

“What?”

She sighed. “A dress.”

“A dress? So it is my birthday after all.”

“Go back to sleep Mulder. Those lines only work in your dreams.”

“What do you need a new dress for?”

Shaking her head, Scully quickly finished dressing before she replied, clearly not in the mood for questions. “For a work function on Friday.”

“A work function?”

“Yes, for the hospital.”

“And you’re going?”

“Of course I am Mulder. I want to be there to support my team; it’s recognition for their hard work. And my hard work too,” she added. “It’s nice to be appreciated.”

He ignored the jibe. “Of course,” he replied, not wanting to annoy her further. “It’s just you haven’t mentioned it before, and I’m sure you didn’t get the invitation this morning.”

“I wasn’t entirely sure I was going to go at first.”

“So you’re leaving me all on my own?” he asked, his lips forming a mock pout.

Seeing right through his act, Scully laughed. “It won’t be the first time. Besides, I’m sure you’ll find something to do to pass the time while I’m away.” She stared at her partner, as though sizing him up. “You could come with me.”

“What?”

“The invite says plus one. You don’t have any plans for Friday. You could be my plus one.”

“Scully.” Mulder shook his head. “With how long we’ve known each other, I just don’t understand why you’d think I would say yes to that.”

His words came as no surprise to her, and she gave him a sad smile. “Well, hope springs eternal, isn’t that what they say?”

“You know I don’t play nice with other people.”

“Oh I’m well aware of that. Just remember we had this conversation on Friday when you’re complaining that I’m going without you.” Grabbing her jacket, Scully then scanned the room for her purse.

Mulder frowned. “You’re going now?”

She nodded.

“It’s early.”

“I want to beat the crowds.”

“Come back to bed.”

“Mulder.”

“Come back to bed and we can go to the mall later.”

“Uh uh, I’m not falling for that again. You hate driving around that car park. The last time you almost got into a fist fight when that other guy beat you to a parking space.”

“He stole my parking space Scully, he deserved what was coming to him.”

“And that attitude is the reason why you’re not going to drive me to the mall today.” Locating her purse, Scully then approached the bed. “Go back to sleep. I’ll be back soon and then we can go to lunch.”

“Or you could join me in bed.”

“A late morning nap?”

“I wasn’t thinking of napping.”

“Go back to sleep,” repeated Scully with a smirk, then headed towards the door. “I’ll be back soon.”

Xxxxx

Scully descended the stairs, fixing her earring as she went. As she entered the living room her eyes caught sight of the television clock and she sighed. “Mulder!” she called out, addressing her partner who was shut up in his study. He’d been in there for most of the afternoon, save for a brief moment when he popped upstairs to take a shower. Scully had no idea what he was up to, but by now she knew that sometimes it was best not to ask. “I’m heading off now.”

Grabbing her keys and purse from the table, Scully smoothed down her new dress, a sleeveless navy number, which offered just a glimpse of flesh but was conservative enough to wear or a work function. She edged closer to the door of her partner’s study. “Did you hear me? I’m going now. I shouldn’t be too late, but don’t wait up…” She trailed off as the door suddenly opened. “Mulder?”

Her mouth dropped open as she took in his appearance. Mulder stood before her, looking decidedly uncomfortable in his new black morning suit, pulling awkwardly at his tie. She couldn’t remember the last time she’d seen him looking this spruced up. “What are you doing?”

“I’m ready.”

“You’re ready? For what?”

“To be your plus one.”

“My…?”

“You did say I could be your plus one, didn’t you?”

“Well yes but…I didn’t think you wanted to go?”

“I changed my mind.”

“You…why?”

Mulder’s smile faltered ever so slightly. “Because I want to spend some time with you. I want to meet your colleagues and find out more about your work. I know tonight is important for you, which means it’s important to me too.” He smirked. “And I want to tell anyone who’s making eyes at you tonight, which they will do with you wearing that dress, that you’re taken, and that they can back off.”

Scully smiled, relaxing as she stepped in closer towards him, reaching up to straighten his tie “Thank you,” she whispered, her smile alone telling Mulder that he’d made the right decision. She kissed him chastely.

“Besides, I figured if I do this for you, you can do something for me later.”

“Keep dreaming Mulder.”

“Well,” he replied, as Scully quickly wiped away remnants of her lipstick from his mouth. “Hope springs eternal, isn’t that what they say?”

anonymous asked:

We've seen a lot of m/m pairing so why not something other: Obi-Wan and the handmaiden on the run from Vader, trying to raise the twin at the same time. His confidence shaken by his student's Fall, he's very submissive to the ladies and when they fell in bed alltogether, they fear he's not really capable of consent...

Caressing the soft copper hair of the head that rested on her breast, Sabe frowned a bit. Last night had been wonderful, week upon week of gentle flirting and casual touches that was anything but really casual compounding on the need as Obi-Wan followed them into bed, their hands quickly but carefully divesting him of his Jedi like attire that the man somehow couldn’t seem to let go.

But then again perhaps that was to be expected.

That Obi-Wan needed something familiar to cling to even if his lightsaber was hidden in a chest along with Skywalker’s.

Yet something bothered Sabe still.

The way Obi-Wan never took charge, the way he had just…folded for their prodding to what they wanted and acted on their requests.

“That expression on your face makes me wary.” Rabe mumbled against the freckled skin of their lover, Obi-Wan never stirring once even when Rabe nuzzled against his back before sitting up to peer at Sabe.

“He was very…submissive. That’s all.” Sabe offered and Rabe frowned at her, raven hair tussled around her face from their activities last night and sleep. “Where’s Dorme?”

“Luke started crying.” Rabe yawned. “She got up so Obi-Wan could sleep, he’s been exhausting himself with the babies.” She pressed a kiss to a hicky on the mans neck, smiling when he mumbled.

“Oh…” Sabe continued petting the copper hair, face still troubled.

“Sabe…”

“Just do you think he really wanted to get into bed with us?” Sabe voiced her concern even as Obi-Wan nuzzled down between the valley of her breast, his beard prickling ever so slightly at the sensitive skin. “I mean…he’s been so shaken. Since everything happened, what if he felt he had to?” She swallowed.

“Sabe you can’t think like that.” Rabe leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to her forehead, lips faintly dry both from sleep and dehydration. “He is a man who knows how to say no.”

“Is he? Now? He’s let everyone else take decisions since…since Mustafar.” Sabe’s hand subconsciously tightened a bit on Obi-Wan’s hair, cupping his skull protectively. “The only times he insists on anything is if he feels we’re about to be discovered.”

“Or.” Rabe countered, her hand flat on Obi-Wan’s back, feeling the calm beat beneath the skin against her own. “He needs to be able to decompress and let go. He’s a Jedi, he felt everyone die, he fought Vader, felt him Fall and fought him and had to watch Padme die too. He saw the end of everything that was once his.” She sighed. “He needs time Sabe, and to deny him comfort would not help anyone.”

Sabe stared at her before nodding and peeking down at the head still pillowed on her chest. “…He looks younger when he sleeps.”

“He’s not troubled when he sleeps. We’ll take care of him Sabe.” Rabe pressed another kiss to Obi-Wan’s shoulder this time, covering the freckles of it before she rose from the bed, picking up her discarded dress from last night. “I’ll go see if Dorme needs help with Leia and Luke, you look after Obi-Wan in the meantime.” She smiled.

Sabe watched her dress and go before going back to slowly petting Obi-Wan’s hair, teasing the strands before pressing a soft kiss to his temple. ‘We’re still going to talk about it…after food and tea.’ She nosed at him.

The last thing she wanted to do was take advantage of their Jedi.

“Poor love.” She whispered, stroking his cheek.

Satisfied...
  • Jackie: A toast to the groom *raises wine glass to Marco*
  • Marco: *stands with a charming smile
  • Crowd: To the groom, to the groom!
  • Jackie: *face goes grim before giving a fake yet believable smile* To the bride...
  • Star: *stands as the crowd repeats*
  • Jackie: From your other bestie....
  • Crowd: Jackieeeeee
  • Jackie: Who's always by your sideeee
  • Crowd: By your side... By your sideeee
  • Jackie: To your kingdommmm
  • Crowd: To the kingdom to our victory!
  • Jackie: And I hope that you provide *winks*
  • Marco: Hehehe...
  • Jackie: May you always...
  • Crowd: Always...
  • Jackie: Be satisfied...
  • Crowd: REWIND... <i>REWINDDDDDDD</i>
  • Jackie: Rewind... Rewind...
  • Jackie: Satis... Ayeeeeee... Satis...
  • Jackie: *looking at a memory* I remember that night I just might...
  • Star: *runs away from Marco crying...*
  • Rewind...
  • Jackie: I remember that night I just might
  • Marco: Star! *runs after her...*
  • Rewind...
  • Jackie: I remember that night... I remember that night...
  • ...
  • ...
  • Jackie: *holds herself...* I remember that night I just might regret that night for the rest of my days...
  • *Looks at another memory that appears* I remember those Soulja boy wouldn't get over themselves just to win our praise... Heh
  • *Looks at another memory of Mr. And Mrs. Diaz shooing them out the house* I remember that dream like candlelight went out so simple and unfazed...
  • Jackie: *small smile as she looks at Marco confess because of that box* But Marco Diaz I'll never forget the time I truly saw your face...
  • I've never been the same...
  • Intelligent eyes and a hunger pain fame...
  • And when I said high you forgot your dang name (heh...)
  • That set my heart a flame... Set my heart a flame... This is not a game..
  • Marco: You strike me... And a girl who's never been satisfied...
  • Jackie: *chokes on drink* I'm sure I don't know what you mean... *Stares nervously...* You forget yourself..
  • Marco: Pfft... You're like me... I'm never satisfied...
  • Jackie: *turns to him* Is that right?
  • Marco: I've never been satisfied...
  • Jackie: *grins happily and held out her hand...* My name in Jackie Lynn Thomas...
  • Marco: *turns completely red and shakes hand wildly...* Marco Ulbaldo Diaz!
  • Jackie: *points to the Naysaya with a smile...* Where'd that head come from?
  • Marco: *face goes even redder* <i>Unimportant...</i> there's a million things I haven't done...
  • Present Jackie: *watches as a memory swivels around her to him and herself kissing... Tear comes out her eyes...*
  • Marco: Just you wait... Just you wait...
  • Jackie: So this is what it feels like to match with someone on your level what the heck is the catch it the feeling the freedom I think I've seen the light... Its like Ben Franklin with the key and the kite...
  • Present Jackie: *another memory swirls around her...* You see it right?
  • Janna: *walks up to her with wiggling eyebrows...*
  • Jackie: The conversation lasted one minute maybe three minutes everything we ever told and agree with it... Maybe three minutes it's a bit of a chance... It's a bit of a poster it's a bit of a stance...
  • Present Jackie: *watches another memory flow around her... Marco saying want me to kiss ya...* He was a but of a flirt and I gave that a chance...
  • Jackie: I asked about his family... What an answer!
  • His hands started fidgeting and looked like he had peed his pants (hehe)
  • Handsome... But he doesn't know it...
  • Peach fuzz and he can't even grow it!
  • I wanna take him far away from this place...
  • Present Jackie: But then I saw that Butterfly's face and she was...
  • Star: *calls Marco from the stairs...* Helpless...
  • Present Jackie: And I just know... She is...
  • Star: *crying as she told Marco she had a crush on him...* Helpless...
  • Marco: *speechless...*
  • Present Jackie: And those tearful eyes... We're just so...
  • Star: *runs away after a tearful goodbye...* Helpless...
  • Present Jackie: That's when I had realized three fundamental truths at the exact. Same. Time...
  • Marco: What is going on...
  • Jackie: It's a change in your life...
  • Marco: Then... Change it...
  • Present Jackie: *covers face*
  • Voices: NUMBER 1.
  • Present Jackie: I'm a girl in this cruel world *points to a memory...* And my only job is to be that pro skater... I don't wanna be rich but I'm the one who has the social climb for one...
  • I'm the only one and a witty one of this skater thing... The best one...
  • And Marco Diaz isn't very penniless... But that doesn't mean I don't want him anyless...
  • Jackie: I'm breaking up with you... Marco...
  • Marco: Why?!
  • Jackie: We've hurt Star... So much... I don't want to hurt her anymore... So... I'll leave you to let it get better...
  • Voices: NUMBER 2
  • Present Jackie: He's after me because I'm the one he had a preschool crush on...
  • I can't be conceited so I put that aside...
  • So I let him back to his shining Star...
  • Nice going Jackie... Even if it was right... You'll never be satisfied...
  • Jackie: *staring at the pair as Mewni is being rebuilt...*
  • Star: Thank you for coming....
  • Marco: Your my best friend... Why wouldn't I come?
  • Both: *gentle smile*
  • Jackie: (I'll leave them to it...)
  • Voices: NUMBER 3.
  • Present Jackie: I MAY NOT NO THAT BUTTERFLY LIKE MY MIND BUT I NO YOU'LL NEVER FIND SOMEONE AS TRUSTING OR AS KIND.
  • IF I STOP THEIR LOVE SO EASILY SHE WOULD BE SILENTLY RESIGNED...
  • BUT WOULD HE REALLY BE MINE?
  • She'd say she's fine... BUT I KNOW SHE WOULD BE LYING....
  • Star: *magic is green as she watches Jackie and Marco walk off together...*
  • Present Jackie: But when I fantasize at night is that Diaz's eyes...
  • As I romanticize what might've been if that Butterfly...
  • Hadn't left so quickly...
  • Present Jackie: *watches as the memories fade...* But at least she's pure as his wife...
  • At least I'll still see his eyes in my life... *A small... Sad smile with a tear forms on her face...*
  • Music: *plays...*
  • ...
  • ...
  • Jackie: TO THE GROOM!!!! *tears stream down her face uncontrollably...*
  • Marco and Star: *looks confused at why she just burst into tears...*
  • Crowd: To the Groom... To the groom...
  • Jackie: TO THE BRIDE... *More tears...*
  • Crowd: To the bride... To the brideeee...
  • Jackie: FROM YOUR OTHER BESTIE...
  • Crowd: Jackie...
  • Jackie: WHO'S ALWAYS BY YOUR SIDE...
  • Crowd: By your side.. by your side....
  • Jackie: TO THE KINGDOMMMMM...
  • Crowd: TO THE KINGDOM TO OUR VICTORY...
  • Jackie: AND I HOPE THAT YOU PROVIDE...
  • Crowd: Provide... Provide...
  • Jackie: MAY YOU ALWAYS...
  • Crowd: Always...
  • Jackie: BE SATISFIED...
  • Crowd: Satisfied...
  • ...
  • ...
  • Jackie: *walking off the stage and looks to Star and Marco who are staring at her* And I know... She'll be happy as his bride...
  • And I know...
  • I'll never be satisfied...
  • I'll never be satisfied...

anonymous asked:

26 "Far too long since we've seen each other" hug for the ship of your choice. ;)

When she wants to be, Natasha is a difficult woman to find. She was trained to be a ghost in the system, after all, and it’s habit to her to change aliases every so often, with which she’ll rent safe houses, paying in cash to avoid being linked to any account. Her ability to disappear and fly under the radar is what makes her a valuable spy, but when she decides she wants some time away from friends as well as enemies, it’s a pain, to say the least, to try and track and her down.

Clint is more practised at it than most. And he has the advantage of knowing her – knowing the kinds of places she likes to disappear in, the types of identity she prefers to use. Others would take weeks, maybe months, to begin piecing together the clues to find her. He can do it in a matter of days, now.

Some days he thinks he should add up all the time he’s spent looking for Natasha. But the time isn’t what’s important.

What’s important is that she always lets him find her.

He can tell she’s here as soon he opens the door. Her jacket is hung up on the rack in the corner, her shoes are haphazardly discarded nearby, and the smell of her perfume still lingers in the air. Clint smiles a little; she tends to favour this place – a small apartment on the Californian coast – after a long mission. From what he gathers she got back about a week before he did, making it three months in the end.

After taking off his own coat, he heads into the kitchen. He’s just taken the containers out of the bag he’s carrying when a stronger waft of perfume alerts him to Natasha’s presence behind him (even if she didn’t move as quietly as a cat, his hearing is nowhere near good enough to detect the soft padding of her feet).

“That Chinese place you like was closed, so I got Indian instead,” he says by way of greeting, turning around to look at her.

Her hair’s slightly damp, curling around her shoulders, and she’s wearing shorts and a loose tank top. The silver arrow necklace he gave her gleams in the hollow of her neck. There are faint shadows below her eyes and she looks tired. So does he, he’s sure. That’s what the job does.

“Just tell me you got samosas,” she says, stepping up beside him.

“What am I, an idiot?”

Natasha grins. “Do you really want me to answer that?”

In reply he puts an arm around her shoulders and pulls her close. Her arms slip around his waist, fingers bunching into the material of his shirt, and rests her head against his chest. He bends down to press his own face into her hair, breathing her in, feeling the slow drum of her heart beating in time with his own. For a moment they just stand like that, tension slipping from their bodies as their shells crack open and they allow themselves to be vulnerable – something they only ever really are with each other.

When they pull back, Clint brushes a kiss against her forehead and she trails her fingers over his back before turning back to the counter and grabbing the food containers.

“Come on. I rented Casablanca. We can watch while we eat.”

Clint follows with a smile.

It’s always like this between them, warm touches and soft looks saying what they don’t with words. But for Clint, who spoke with his hands before his mouth, and Natasha, who grew up with more lies than truth, they say everything they need to know. 

ANTI MALIA/SCALIA
  • I think everyone has a right to like and dislike characters, as a writer I sympathize with like everyone so it's hard for me to dislike a character so passionately.
  • I've just seen so much Scalia/Malia hate, more Malia hate than anything, and I'm trying to figure out why that is.
  • When Malia was introduced I was impartial, when Stalia happened I was like hell no, and I didn't like Malia for the simple fact that she was barely given screen time before heading into a romance with a main character in the most delusional/unhealthy (from a writer's standpoint aka mine). I saw the #AntiMalia posts and all I could think was I don't like her but that's way too far. They really don't have anything better to do with their time?
  • When season 5 came along and Malia actually got real serious development instead of being a comic relief I took notice. I appreciated what she was going through, I connected with her character. After her Tracey and Theo car ride moment I knew that I really liked this character and that there was no reason to hold the writer's piss poor job of her entry and relationship with Stiles against her.
  • I may be one of the only people on this world that didn't ship Scallison and Scira. Scallison was wayyyyyy too rushed. The first episode? Come on dude. I didn't get a choice if I wanted to see those two together the show said these two are going to be together, here you go, figure it out along the way. Scira was better for me because they had time to develop a friendship before but I have so many issues with Scira.
  • So I've never really successfully shipped anyone with Scott, which made me kinda sad over the seasons, it was always Stiles I was shipping people with. I DO NOT SHIP MALEO.
  • Once I realized how much I loved Scott and Malia as characters on their own without being romantically linked to anybody else I was more okay with the idea of them getting together. At first, like a lot of people I was weirded out because of Stiles BUT STILES DID THE SAME THING WITH LYDIA SO THERE SHOULDN'T BE A DOUBLE STANDARD.
  • By the rules of the show, which I don't recommend going off of lol, Scott and Malia can totally get together because we've seen it happen without any drama with Stydia. HONESTLY WHY PEOPLE ARE SHOCKED BY THIS IS A MYSTERY TO ME LIKE HAVE YOU NOT SEEN A SINGLE EPISODE OF ANY TEEN DRAMA WHERE THEY ALL DATE EACH OTHER MULTIPLE TIMES?!
  • I digress, my point is that most you only hate the idea of Scalia because of three reasons. You hate Malia for reasons people don't like to share. Saying you hate because there's something about her is a BULLSHIT argument. If you can't give episodes or specific details why look at yourself and ask why are you being malicious. Or you ship Scira. I get it. I would be salty too. BUT WE ALL KNOW KIRA ISN'T COMING BACK. STOP USING KIRA AS AN EXCUSE FOR YOUR HATE FOR THE SHIP. ARDEN MADE THE GOODBYE VIDEO LAST SEASON, LAST YEAR, YOU HAVE NO REASON TO BELIEVE SCIRA WILL BE TOGETHER OR GET MORE SCREEN TIME. IF THEY DIDN'T BREAK UP ON AIR HOPEFULLY THE WRITERS WILL EXPLAIN IT. KIRA WILL BE GONE FOR WHO KNOWS HOW LONG YOU CAN'T EXPECT SCOTT TO WAIT FOR SOMEONE THAT MAY NEVER COME HOME IN HIS LIFETIME. Or you have the mindset that Scott and Malia are the only two left single so they shouldn't be together just because that/boys and girls can be friends and nothing more.
  • GET THE FUCK OUT OF HERE WITH THAT. If you think Scalia is happening soley because there the only ones left you haven't been paying attention or reading context clues. Posey and Shelley are really great friends which is why Scalia works and has a standing ground. Scalia is developed in much the same way. They have a BASIS OF FRIENDSHIP FIRST. They're both loyal to each other, protect each other, and kick ass together. They're iconic. And I still don't understand why people hate the friends into something more trope. That's a great trope. Just falling into a romance without being friends with a person is the trope I hate. BUILD THAT FRIENDSHIP YALL! MAJOR KEY ALERT.
  • AND IF YOU HAVEN'T EVEN WATCHED ANY PENNIG/SCALIA FAN VIDS I SUGGEST YOU CHECK OUT MY EXTENSIVE PLAYLIST OF BOTH SO YOU CAN SEE THAT SCALIA HAS BEEN DEVELOPED A LOT AND THE MORE YOU THINK ABOUT HOW WELL THEY'RE SUITED FOR EACH OTHER HOPEFULLY YOU CAN BE HAPPY THAT THESE TWO CHARACTERS THAT HAVE BEEN HANDED SHITTY ROMANCE LIVES ARE GOING TO BE HAPPY TOGETHER:
  • https: //www.youtube.com/watch?v=M5dcfVp5UBU&list=PLBtjQJj3LJqtVgDDembnysfOs1GCEQQKs
  • I MEAN, LIKE YOU CAN SEE THAT THEY'VE HAD THAT TUNNEL SCENE AND THE ONE IN DEATON'S OFFICE, AND THE PORCH SCENE, AND ALL OF 6A!!! I suggest watching the Pennig vids first(Home, Soldier, and the This or That vids and the cutest upbeat scalia vid is And Your Smile Shining Bright)
  • PLEASE JUST GIVE THE VIDEOS A CHANCE, GIVE THE IDEA OF THEM BEING HAPPY A CHANCE BEFORE YOU WRITE THEM OFF. This vids at the beginning are a little AUey and are more manipued that the older ones because I made the playlist and they came out before 6a was released, the further you go down the list the more actual scalia scenes are used. I doubt any of us would be happy that Scott got a random new love interest for the last ten episodes that we know nothing about or care about and that wouldn't be in all ten episodes.
  • And lastly, Scott turned Malia human again. We all know that. If there hadn't been Scira or residual Scallison do you think you would've shipped Scalia then? I was blind to it until after 5b. He changed her back, she protected him from the Berserkers, from Enis at the hospital, he took care of her when she was drunk, helped with the Desert Wolf/Belasko talons, he told her he was still there for her after the Stalia breakup, if Peter hadn't bitten Scott none of this would've happened and obviously Peter's her dad. Like can yall see the lines here? And all this doesn't mean they have to be together, but if you really look at them and watch Shelley and Tyler together and Scott and Malia then hopefully you'll see what the rest of us see. Two amazing people that have come so far that care for each other they just so happen to figure out how much at the same time. : D
  • I LIED. LASTLY, PENNIG BITCHES!!!!! OHHH MY GOOOOOOD! THEY ARE LIKE LITERALLY SO IN LOVE WITH EACH OTHER, TYLER MORE SO PROBABLY BUT IT'S SO OBVIOUS. THEY'RE SOCIAL MEDIA GIVES ME HEART PALPITATIONS. SHELLEY IS SO BEAUTIFUL AND SO FUNNY! LIKE PENNIG HAS PHOTOSETS OF THEM POOPING, EATING PIZZA, AND JUST BEING WEIRD AF. "I could eat you" Come on, if Shelley didn't have a boyfriend I think Posey would be on that like white on rice. To be fair, I think he already is kinda. It's so obvious he's head over heels for Shelley.
  • BITCH I LIED AGAIN. Lastly, at the very least, the idea of them is adorable. Take out Stiles for a second. If it was just Scott had turned her back and she eventually found her way to the pack but Scira still happened and ended, the idea of them wouldn't be so yuck to some of yall I would think. He's good to her. She needs that after her first relationship that wasn't great in my opinion, but also wasn't as bad as some stydias like to say. I say stalia is all wrong from a writing standpoint not a shipping standpoint. He "tames" her in some ways when she was still learning and she could bring out a wilder side in him. Hu Anita's King and Lionheart Scalia vid on that playlist showcased them perfectly. Like Scott's the King and Malia is his Lionheart. Iconic Duo.

anonymous asked:

i headcanon isak's mother having OCD from what we've heard/seen of her and when she's finally diagnosed it takes isak a few days to process what that means and he does a ton of research and talks to her about it and to even to learn and figure it out and as he's searching he stumbles along other anxiety disorders and finds a lot of symptoms he has and it scares the crap out of him because his boyfriend having a MI? okay. his mom? okay. but him was a different story. could you write about that?

Having a Name for it can be Scary; 2150ish words
[AO3]

Isak had been barely thirteen the first time he heard the word ‘schizophrenic’.  It had been a scary word; even just the sound it made in his mouth was harsh.  He realised quickly that it was also a taboo word.  His parents refused to talk about it and Isak was too young to care enough to push further than that.

After he moved out he didn’t really think of it again; too busy rebuilding his life to do much else.

The thing is: since getting with Even, Isak had slowly been rebuilding his relationship with his mother.  And part of that had been educating himself about the way her brain worked.  He had been reading all about schizophrenia and his heart had twisted painfully in his chest at the familiarity of it all.

As is often the way with the internet, one thing led to another almost seamlessly.  One web page had listed bipolar disorder as a similar condition to schizophrenia, which had resulted in a little detour in Isak’s research.  Honestly though, he tried not to read up on bipolar because he knew it made Even uncomfortable so he wasn’t on that page for long.

It was only when he was about to exit out of that website entirely that he noticed a list on the side of the page of related disorders.  The words ‘anxiety and panic disorders’ caught his eye and he remembered reading about how anxiety could be a trigger for episodes.

And so he clicked.

At first he had been reading with his mother in mind, thinking about how his father always used to warn him not to stress her out, but then he came across something called ‘generalised anxiety disorder’.  The more he read about it the more he felt like the bottom of his stomach had fallen out; like suddenly being plummeted from the top of a rollercoaster.

Excessive worrying, restlessness and feeling on edge, muscle tension, headaches, difficulty concentrating, difficulty sleeping and staying asleep, being easily startled.

All common things in the day to day life of Isak Valtersen.

When he got to the part about the causes of GAD and saw the words ‘abnormal functioning in particular brain regions’ he slammed his laptop shut and dumped it unceremoniously onto the floor by their bed.

For possibly the first time ever, Isak was glad that Even was at work and he had the flat to himself.

Keep reading

The perfect timing (Part IV)

This is based on a prompt I got:
Soulmate AU: In which you turn 18 and see everything through your soulmate’s eyes when you’re not sleeping anymore but are not fully awake yet.

Part I , Part II , Part III


‘Why did I see less than a minute of my soulmate’s room?’

‘Reasons for only seeing blurry through your soulmate’s eyes’

'Usual amount of time seeing your soulmate’s room’

Sana has been sitting on her bed, googling these types of question the whole afternoon.

She didn’t want to care. She tried to ignore the thoughts regarding her soulmate since her birthday. It’s been a week now.

It didn’t work. Obviously.

She’s interested, though. Why would she only see so little and then only blurry things?

The average amount of time for people to see through their soulmates eyes is two and a half minutes. Still, there can be exceptions. Some people have been reporting to have seen what their soulmate saw for more than three minutes.

Sana frowns. They’re talking about two and a half minutes. Or even more. Her stomach drops and she hopes to find something else, an answer to satisfy her.

Simple answer for seeing things blurry in that phase is that you were simply too tired.

Sana shakes her head. That’s not right. None of her friends or family told her about seeing things blurry. Not even random people at school. Yes, in the beginning but not throughout the whole thing. 

The common held belief that the blurriness is caused by your soulmate falling back asleep, has been proven wrong.

Sana furrows her eyebrows at this article. People really do research about this? Well, if they didn’t Sana couldn’t be reading about it now.

Is there something wrong with her? Why does it seem like there is no answer to her question.

Right when Sana is about to give up to find a satisfying answer, because she needs to leave the house soon, her eye catches something promising.

Before clicking on it all she can read is: This is how my soulmate made me hate him before I even met him!

Sana doesn’t hate her soulmate, whoever that is. But she’s frustrated about how things happened and if she needs to blame someone other than herself… they would be on the receiving end.

So she clicks on the post.

As the title says, my soulmate made me hate him before I even met him! Why? Because that dumbass, who's now my husband and whom I love very much, knew that I was his soulmate because he had seen my room on his birthday weeks before mine. He woke up early and just sat on his bed, hoping I'd wake up and see his room. See that he's my soulmate. He knew I would recognize that room immediately. We've been friends forever. 
He was the reason why I only saw his room for less than a minute and he was the reason why anything I saw was blurry. 
Well, speaking to many people about this, including some experts I may have contacted before I knew why my experience on my 18th birthday was so different from my friends’ and family’s, I'm pretty sure about my answer.

When your soulmate suspects you of being their soulmate and they think about you while you're in that hazy phase, then it’s very likely for you to have a blurry vision and for that to last less than a minute.

Sana leans back, resting her head on the wall. She stares at the ceiling and thinks about it. Has this been fact checked or did someone just make this up? 
It’s scary to her, though. Everything this guy has explained fits perfectly to what Sana has experienced.

She doesn’t have time to think about it too much because she gets a text from Chris saying they’re outside, waiting for her.

Somehow, none of her friends wanted to go to a big party on this year’s New Year’s Eve. Instead they choose to go to Noora’s flat and watch movies and eat their way into the New Year.

That was fine by Sana; she didn’t feel like doing much else anyway.

Grabbing her bag and checking if she has her keys and phone she leaves her room.

Even though Chris, Vilde and Eva are all together in the Van outside of Sana’s house those three are texting in the group chat.

Reading those while walking is not the best idea, not when the other person in the hallway is doing something similar.

Sana crashes into someone. Since her brother’s friends are here once again, there are a few possibilities of who it is but looking up from her phone, mumbling a sorry, Sana sees Yousef standing in front of her.

She’s surprised. She hasn’t seen him in a week. Since her birthday. The other guys were here as per usual but Yousef wasn’t. Well, that’s what Sana thought until her mother had asked Elias at the breakfast table why Yousef left so much earlier than the rest of the guys the day before.

He wasn’t there when Sana left the house and he wasn’t there when Sana came back.

She’s not that self-centred that she thinks it’s because of her. But he also didn’t text her in the past week. Not once. He did not even answer to a stupid meme Sana sent him, thinking he’d enjoy it.

So seeing him now, after a week, feels like seeing him the first time in ages.

“I.. sorry. Didn’t know you were home.”, Yousef says, taking a step back.

He smiles at Sana weakly, not convincingly. His eyes wander over Sana’s face and she smiles just as not convincingly as him.

She can’t bite her tongue and quietly mumbles: “You wouldn’t be here if you knew.”

Well, Yousef still hears it and she’s glad that he did. He alternates between looking at her for a few seconds and then not being able to look her in the eyes for the next seconds.

Sana sighs. What did she do wrong?

Awkwardly standing there is not what her plans were for today, not even if it’s with Yousef. Looking down on her phone and seeing the girls text her non-stop to come downstairs she sighs and looks right at Yousef.

He’s been looking at Sana with a look that she can’t interpret.

“Look, Yousef.”, she says which makes him look at her with wide eyes. “I made my life a lot harder by not talking about things straight out so whatever I did that makes you so distant or if you just don’t want to talk to me anymore, you need tell me and not avoid me.”

She walks past him and closes her eyes for a moment. Talking about problems helps solve those, she learned that the hard way but she’s really not going to suffer more than this one week because they didn’t talk to each other. Still, she can barely breathe while putting on her shoes.

She likes Yousef, a lot. She thought he might like him too. But now he didn’t talk to her for a week and apparently he avoided seeing her at all costs. She doesn’t dare to check if he’s still standing there or if he’s already gone when she opens the front door.

-

“You know what I need?”, Sana asks over the phone, a day later.

She’s sitting in the kitchen, eating some of the dessert her mom had made the previous day and talking to Chris over the phone.

“What? Tell me!”, Chris answers.

Sana takes another forkful of the chocolaty heaven in front of her and starts talking. She gestures with the fork while doing that.

“I need for people to speak up. If they have a problem with someone, just go talk to them. It’s not that hard. I learned to do that. It’s a whole lot better than ignoring people and avoiding them. Tell them how it is and it’s done.”

Sana can’t stop talking once she starts. Chris left the movie marathon early last night because her family went to a cabin. Otherwise they would have talked in person.

Now she doesn’t even get to hear Chris’ answer because she has to hang up when as usual five boys storm into the kitchen after each other. Are they ever alone? And didn’t they sleep over at Yousef’s? Elias had texted Sana yesterday evening to tell her that after Sana left the boys decided to go to Yousef’s for a change and that they all would sleep over there. Just so Sana doesn’t worry about Elias’ whereabouts.
If they would end up in the Bakkoush house the next noon why would they even bother taking all their stuff to Yousef’s?

Not that those boys make any sense, anyway.

“Sana!”, Elias says very enthusiastically.

Sana raises her eyebrows in a questioning manner. Why is he so overly happy?

“Elias!”, she answers in the same tone. 
Mikael looks between the siblings and decides to say something.

“Okay, sorry to interrupt but..”, his eyes are drawn to the chocolate cake in front of Sana, “… that looks way too good. Can I have some?”

Sana nods: “Sure, help yourself.”

Usually it would be anyone but him that would ask that question.

Sana lets her eyes wander over the boys standing in her kitchen. 
Elias and Mutta are just smiling a lot at Sana, actually grinning, and swaying back and forth on their feet.

She narrows her eyes at them. What’s up?

Then she sees Adam who stands at the window and has his lips pressed together. He keeps looking at Sana, to the kitchen door and back at her.

She follows his gaze and of course Yousef is standing at the door. She catches him looking at her. With a smile. Not a forced one. The complete opposite of the day before.

Sana feels herself get happier instantly but she forces herself to stay controlled, to not quickly fall back to how things were before her birthday. She still had to talk to Yousef or rather let him explain.

When she doesn’t smile back, Yousef’s smile falters but a small smile still plays on his lips.

This is very weird. None of them talk, all of them look at Sana. Mikael is stuffing his face with the cake but doesn’t even look like he’s enjoying it too much.

“What’s up with you all today?”

“Nothing!”, Adam is the first one to blurt out. After that he presses his lips together again. His eyes going to Yousef and grinning at him.

“How are you?”, Mikael asks her with his mouth full. Mikael talking with his mouth full is probably the weirdest thing about all of this. He’s the one to scold Mutta anytime he eats too loudly or speaks with food in his mouth.

“Good.”, Sana answers sceptically, narrowing her eyes. “Are you sure you all are okay?”

Elias is the one to answer his little sister, walking over to her and standing behind her chair. He leans down and hugs her closely and answers when he lets her go.

“We’re great. Really. Amazing. And you?”

“Like I said.. good but why are you..”, she stops talking when they all hear a loud noise.

It’s coming from Adam and everyone turns to him. “Dropped my phone.”, he says sheepishly and leans down to pick it up.

It’s only then that Sana notices something.

Adam’s wearing a dark blue shirt. A dark blue shirt with dark grey and white splatters over one side.

Sana’s eyes widen and she blinks a few times to make sure she sees it correctly.

It’s the same shirt as the one that was draped over a chair in her soulmate’s room. It’s similar, at least. Very similar.

Sana suddenly finds it hard to breathe. Her chest rises and falls way too quickly. Her heart aches.

Is it really the same shirt? It’s awfully similar. And it’s definitely not a shirt she has seen on anyone else so far and men’s fashion is very limited.

When Adam stands back up and sees Sana staring at him, rather at his side, with her eyebrows furrowed and a slight frown on her face, he gets worried.

Did they say something to upset her?

Sana notices him looking back at her and now finally looks at him, not just at his shirt.

“Adam, your shirt… it’s nice.”

He looks down on himself and looks back up with smile. He looks at his friends standing somewhere in the room with a knowing look before he answers Sana.

“Yeah, that happened when we painted the walls but it looks good and I somehow ended up wearing it today.”

When they painted the walls.

One dark grey wall and three white walls.

This doesn’t make sense to Sana. She always thought that Adam and Mikael… that Yousef and her maybe…

She gulps and just slowly nods, forcing herself to smile a little.

Suddenly she feels like she’s being suffocated. She lowers her gaze to the table and closes her eyes for a second. 
Then she just stands up and has to leave. She likes Adam but only as a friend. A good friend, but a friend. In her hurry to get out of the room she doesn’t look at any of the boys.

She doesn’t look at Yousef while passing him to get out of the kitchen.

showvigilance  asked:

Have you seen the way Sansa looks at him after the scene with Alys and little Ned renewing their vows? Like she now gets his point and almost concurs? I can't get over it. I just can't. If these two are ever going to have a realtionship, they're gonna nail it. Because they might be the only people in this show who are telling each other the truth. All this time we've been seeing Jon's glances and smiles. But what of Sansa?!! Jon is the only person with whom she doesn't need to wear a mask.

Uggggggghhhhhhh my heart is exploding!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Because all this and just everything. I was so worried we weren’t going to get any good Jonsa scenes but boy was I wrong! 

BLESS KIT. BLESS SOPHIE. BLESS THIS GD SHIP. 

But you’re so right. I have never seen Sansa look at anyone so fondly in the past six seasons. The way she reassures him, touches his arm to make him look at her, the way she smiles at him and the way her eyes lighten when she realises Jon is doubting his self-worth again. She honestly loves him so much and I think for her this is the season that love transcends into more romantic territories. 

They are beautiful together. They really are such a great team.

Cost of Freedom (22/52)

Summary: In which Aoko and Ran rejoin the group at the police station. Meanwhile, Shinichi and Kaito talk about a potential break in. Prison!AU

[Beginning]     [Previous Chapter]     [Next Chapter]

4.40 p.m


They choose to head to Shinjuku - it’s a shorter distance to travel to from Chiyoda, and Kaito argues that the sooner they arrive at the safe house, the sooner they can come up with a plan that will get them inside the police station.

“We need to take out time coming up with this plan,” Shinichi says, when the leave behind a convenient store, bento’s and snacks in a plastic bag. “I don’t want to go into this half-heartedly.”

Kaito hums, looks at the ex-detective and decides that yes, it would be stupid to go into this without a plan. But he also thinks that waiting is a stupid idea.

“Tomorrow,” Kaito says, “we’ll head in tomorrow.”

Shinichi balks, catches him by his arm and pulls him back. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

Keep reading

help wanted — signals

i just got into the new(ish) webseries @helpwantedcomic, and i’m already in love? already shipping anne and hally (whom’s name i had to dig through tapas’ comments to find)?? and i want them to be happy, so… 

pre-relationship fluff


It takes a while for Anne to notice, but reality hits her hard; somehow, Hally’s arm had managed to sneak around Anne’s waist, sharp nails scratching at the skin between Anne’s shirt and the waist of her pants, and Anne’s arm had found its resting place around Hally’s shoulders.

Hally’s head is also starting to lean onto Anne’s shoulder — first feather light, barely touching. Then soft. And finally properly, weight placed on Anne’s shoulder as Hally relaxes.

If Anne tries hard enough, she can divert her attention away from the now-hotter-than-hot skin of where they touch one another and the pet-soft hair at the nape of Hally’s neck for a couple of seconds, but now that she’s aware of the situation they’re in, Anne finds it incredibly hard to follow the movie that’s playing in front of them for more than a few seconds at a time. And when Hally adjusts herself, or pushes out air through her nose like a mini-snort, or—well, it doesn’t matter what she does, does it? She becomes distracted again. In that moment, Anne can’t think of anything but Hally.

Oh, hell to it all. Anne’s seen the smiles Hally’s been giving her, and how she’s been staring at Anne when she thought Anne wouldn’t notice. And though Anne is often oblivious, she’s not that oblivious, not when Hally’s affection towards her has been as forceful as a puppy’s. If, by any chance, Hally doesn’t have the same feelings as Anne has developed over the months she’s been living here, then she still clearly can take some cuddling, right? Hally initiated this, after all.

Anne shifts, her arm moving from Hally’s shoulders to around her waist as well.

Plus—

“You’re as cuddly as Jason used to be.”

“Jason?” Hally asks, and though Anne can’t see the face Hally’s making, she’s sure the woman underneath her has her thick eyebrows furrowed.

“The Labrador I used to have.”

And Anne knows why Hally’s skin now definitely becomes hotter than it had been before, and why she tenses up for just a small moment before she relaxes and mumbles a, Oh, I see. But she’ll keep quiet until Hally is ready to tell her, and until then she’ll continue dragging her hands through Hally’s hair, hoping she’s not misreading any signals she’s (thinks she’s) been getting.

Personal Concerns (2/3)

back at it again with the always self-indulgent full circle au ٩( ᐛ )و

previous 

Satoru wears a hoodie under his uniform jacket. The weather’s cold enough lately that it won’t seem weird. The sleeves fall farther than his jacket sleeves do, covering his wrists neatly and with inches to spare.

Kiyoshi gives him an odd look as Satoru leaves in the morning, but it’s not really so different, is it?

“A hoodie?” Kitamoto says the second he sees him. “Are you getting sick or something?”

“I’m allowed to get cold,” Satoru replies defensively. “The leaves are so cold they're dying. You want me to die, Acchan?”

The childhood nickname garners a few giggles from a few girls passing them by. Kitamoto’s face gets a little pink and he scowls, grabbing for him. Satoru ducks his reach nimbly and rushes up the last few steps, waving a cheerful goodbye at the spot in the hall where they part every morning to go to their respective classes.

He makes it about four more steps before he runs straight into Tanuma. Runs straight into him, and staggers back like he just tried his luck bouncing off a brick wall.

“Jeez, what do you eat?” Satoru mutters, rubbing his face.

“Why are you wearing a hoodie?” Tanuma returns. At the look on Satoru’s face—and he probably looks as gobsmacked as he feels—Tanuma adds, “You’ve complained about being hot in your uniform every day this week, multiple times. Did something happen?”

“No,” Satoru says quickly, wondering what the heck he did to get saddled with the most perceptive friends in the world. “I’m just cold today. Ask Acchan.”

After a moment, Tanuma’s hard expression cracks and reluctant amusement shines through. “'Acchan’?”

Please call him that when you ask, and please tell me what he looked like the second you did.”

Tanuma chuckles as Satoru steps around him, with barely two minutes to get to class on time at this point. He actually literally looks over his shoulder a few times, feeling somewhat hunted, and he’s relieved when Taki doesn’t pop up from around a corner somewhere and he makes it safely into his classroom.

“Good morning,” Natsume greets him, with that crooked smile that only a handful of people ever get to see, that Satoru earned fair and squareA second later, those soft amber eyes sharpen. “Why are you wearing a hoodie?”

“Oh, come on.”

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

They land with the usual jarring bumps and Rose laughs as she hangs on tight, hands wrapped around the Doctor's arm instead of the easily available railing. He could get used to this, he thinks. Rose waits for him at the door, and the Doctor motions her forward. "After you," he says, and Rose grins again, pushing open the door. She gets two steps out and stops. The Doctor suddenly regrets letting her go first. -IBB

Now he’ll never get to see the exact expression on her face as she takes in their surroundings for the first time. The Doctor has been here before, was here before it was here, has been here after it’s gone too, but never has he been here at this exact moment, and with Rose - because that’s the key after all, he’s finally realized. He could take them to the most miserable mud pit, and she would still be enraptured. She would still be enthralled by the breadth of his world. - IBB

Rose turns then, the diffuse light of the hazy sky making her skin almost luminous against the soft glow of the windswept ice. “Oh,” she breathes, and then her face lights up, and she turns fully to face him. “It’s beautiful,” she says, and the Doctor agrees. “What’s it called?” -IBB

“It’s original name was lost when the cataclysm occurred,” the Doctor explains, and then walks a bit forward and reaches for Rose’s hand, gently steering her back around and a little to her right. “But, most of us, we call it Woman Wept.” Before them expands a glittering frozen sea, caught mid-storm, the peaks and valleys of the waves like mountains of ice caught in a moment of frenzied agitation. “Doctor,” Rose says, looking up at him, her eyes shining, “it’s beautiful.” - IBB

Originally posted by whcvians

WOMAN WEPT!!!! Oh, thank you, this is so beautiful!! 

anonymous asked:

Oh absolutely but the last time we saw them together they gave no indication they weren't together so just because we haven't seen them doesn't equate they broke up. Especially since they are closeted we won't see them out and about. We saw harry rush to louis in December and we've seen them coordinate their MIA times, I mean we can think they broke up but there is no reason to think so other than we publicly haven't seen them together.

Reading your ask reminds me of one time when my husband and I were arguing in whispers, but when his sister walked toward us with a camera, we both turned to her with normal smiles. Only the two of us know what was happening behind that snapshot (though my husband probably doesn’t even remember, lol). Harry rushing to Louis in December, and coordinating MIA times as proof they’re together—that’s us taking snapshots with a Larry lens and making them fit in a particular photo album.

“Just because we haven’t seen them doesn’t equate they broke up” but it doesn’t equate they’re together, either. Y’know? I can’t feel certain about either view, though I know many people have strong opinions on both sides.

'Opposites Attract'

requested by teenagedorkbags

summary: with Ashton blind and me deaf we never thought it could ever work, but he wouldn’t stop trying

warningif you liked ’I See You’ you’ll love this (also it’s really long)

Keep reading

buffys-boss  asked:

Congrats on one year of writing and happy birthday!! I love all your fics so will gladly give you a prompt: bellarke + "we broke up a month ago and this is the first time we've seen each other since and oh, your hair has gotten so long and now i'm realising it's because i always used to cut it for you and it makes me want to cry a little bit", angst with a happy ending! Sorry if this is super specific!! And thank you :)

Thank you! Hope you like it! 

ao3


The first time she sees him After, they’re standing in the cereal aisle at the grocery store.

She almost doesn’t approach him, but it’s been almost three weeks since they broke up and she misses him like crazy. She’d been sure that Bellamy was it. She still is.

He sees her right before she reaches him and straightens with a cautious expression on his face. It hasn’t been long enough she thinks he should really look that different, but it’s obvious he’s been under stress. At least, it is to her. He’s wearing the sweatpants he only pulls out when he’s sick, his scruff is uneven, and his hair– well, it’s as untended as ever, but it hangs over his eyes and curls under his ears like it doesn’t know what to do with itself. Like it’s maybe trying to shelter him from the world.

She used to cut it, she remembers with a pang. Their freshman year of college, she’d gotten tired of looking at the raggedy mess and pushed him down into a chair to give him a trim. He’d let her, glad to save the money, and it became their thing over the years.

Okay, so they had lots of things– bickering, pale ales, horror movies, being the only ones in their friend group who liked olives on their pizza. But the hair cutting was their first thing, and now it’s the most obvious sign that they’ve truly broken up.

“Let me guess,” he says, his voice exactly how she remembers it. “Cocoa Puffs?”

“Let me guess– you don’t think chocolate is a breakfast food.” Her eyes fall to the box in his hands and her heart clenches. So many changes in such a short time. “Or maybe you do.”

“It’s for O,” he explains, dropping the box in his cart. “I’m compromising.”

“How’s she doing?”

It’s easier to ask after his sister than to ask after him, and he seems to feel the same way as he answers, his shoulders loosening.

“It’s pretty rough right now. Even when we were growing up, it’s not like she really saw me as a parental figure, you know? But she’s been acting up at school and I feel like I have to set some boundaries…”

He trails off and Clarke nods knowingly. “So the Cocoa Puffs are you picking your battles.”

“Pretty much.” He looks her over and wets his lips. “How are you?”

I’m an open wound, she wants to say. But she knows the weight that rests on his shoulders, this burden he insisted upon carrying alone, and doesn’t want to add to it. So she smiles small, the expression feeling grotesque for all its necessity, and says, “I’m doing just fine.”

Keep reading