i thought about it last night before going to bed and i couldn't stop laughing

simple and sweet

summary: little sequel to this rockstar au mixed with best friends get pregnant fic (alternatively, “so much beautiful sweet fluff” - @swans-and-pirates)

word count: ~1800

a/n: I wrote more because it’s Friday and I needed to flex my writing muscles weeee (thanks to Meagan for reading and flailing! <3)

They’re all giggles when they fall into their bed on the evening of their wedding.

They’d decided unanimously that of course they’d get married without making a big deal out of it. 

They didn’t tell anyone, and while they might come to regret the decision later, as Emma feels the cool metal of her husband’s wedding band against her skin, her heart leaps and she can’t help from grinning wide.

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A Blind Path Home, part 10

Steve Rogers x Reader

A/N: I obviously took some liberties with the storyline, but I tried keeping it as true as possible to the canon history. No beta used this time around, so excuse my mistakes.
Summary: It started with a blind date. A date you had skipped out on, but fate had led you right to the man you stood up. Steve Rogers, a man small in stature but big in heart. A chance meeting set everything in motion, but decades later when he is unfrozen, he has been told you have died. But when a mission to retrieve Hydra plans turned up some interesting information, Steve’s left to wonder whether you are still alive. Or is this all just false hope?Part One   Part Two   Part Three Part Four   Part Five Part Six Part Seven Part Eight  Part Nine

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anonymous asked:

Sheith 3 pls!! :)

Reincarnation AU I wrote with @crowlines :)

3. “It’s always been you.”

It surprises them both, when on their first date Keith remembers Shiro doesn’t like pickles. But how can he remember something Shiro’s never told him before?

They brush it off; maybe they’re just compatible, but it keeps happening. How did Shiro know that Keith loves soft kisses on his cheek and behind his ear? How did Keith know Shiro’s favorite colors, favorite animals, favorite foods?

When they hold each other for the first time Shiro says, “Maybe it’s just because I’ve thought about this moment a lot, but it feels like we’ve done this before.” And Keith presses his face against the crook of Shiro’s neck and mumbles, “Me too.”

Shiro brushes a strand of hair away from Keith’s face and says, voice low and gentle, "You might think I’m crazy, but I really think you’re my soulmate.”

Keith pulls him closer to brush their lips together and says, "I don’t think that’s crazy at all.”

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imagine stydia laying in bed together after they got stiles back.imagine them laying facing each other, and stiles gently caressing her cheeks as he tells her that they should sleep.she nods and moves closer to him and he wraps his arms around her pulling her closer to his body and after 2 minutes of just them hearing each other breathing and heartbeats lydia speaks “i still haven’t said it ba-” he interrupts her and tells her that she don’t have to but she sits on the bed and looks down at him and tells him “no, you deserve to know everything,i don’t want to hide anything from you anymore” she looks so small and fragile, so her reaches for the hand that is on her lap to encourage her, she intertwine their fingers and looks down at their joined hands, with small smile on her face she starts to talk “you have always been there for me even when i ignored you,you knew things about me that nobody else knew, you believed me when i didn’t even believe in myself” she looks at him, she sees that he has tears in his eyes,she drops her gaze to their joined hands and plays with his fingers while she continues “i liked you the way i liked scott, maybe a little bit more, but when i kissed you” she takes a shaky breath “but when i kissed you everything has changed, i didn’t know what i am feeling, i never felt like that and i was scared and i hated it because for the first time i didn’t feel like i am in control of what’s going on, so i tried to forget about it, i tried to spend more time with aiden and it worked for a while but i didn’t want to be with the bad guys anymore” she stops and wipes the tear that escaped her eye “and then you were not you, i thought i lost you” “i lost allison and aiden and i needed you but you weren’t there, i was mad not at you but at me because i had my chance and i was too scared to do something” she breaks down and cries.he sits and wraps her in his arms,so she is sitting in his lap now, she buries her face in the crook of his neck,  he whispers comforting words to her, she finds her voice and tells him “ sometimes i thought that maybe you still have feelings for me but then i see you with malia and i feel so stupid to think that you’re still waiting for me, you deserve to be happy and you were happy with her and i didn’t want to ruin the thing that made you happy, you deserve happiness after all of what happened with the Nogitsune , you waited years for me so i deserved to wait for you ” “ and then you saved me as you always do, and from that moment i knew that what i am feeling is not just temporary” .she speaks softly “ then you told me to remember that you love me but i forgot it” she pulls from their hug so she can see his face ,they are both crying now. she looks at him softly “i remembered that i love, i love you stiles” he crashes his lips against hers.he tries to tell her through the kiss that he loves her, that he missed her, that he is sorry for not being there for her. he kisses every inch of her face as he whispers that he loves her, he tells her that he is sorry, he tells her that it has always been her, no one but her.

“no one else but you lydia” 

and for the first time both of them sleep knowing that they’re right were they belong.safe in the love of their life arms. 

my thoughts on what happened after they got stiles back

  • they would spend each second holding hands 
  • she goes with him to his house 
  • she wears his clothes to sleep 
  • lydia tells him everything 
  • and he tells her everything 
  • they don’t have sex, they make out a lot but they both know that it’s not leading to sex.
  • they spend the night cuddling,talking and sharing kisses. 
  • stiles keeps making jokes to make her laugh. imagine before she starts talking she tells him that she is bad at feelings and after she finishes her mixtape he kisses her and after he drops his long ass mixtape he kisses her again and jokes that she is really good at feelings . and she chuckles and buries her face in his shirt. and tells him softly that he is stupid and he tells her gently “that’s why you love me” and she softly replies with “yeah, i dolove you” fuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuck. 
  • the last thing they hear before they fall a sleep is “i love you”
  • stiles wakes up first, and he spend 5 minutes just staring at lydia sleeping.
  • he wakes her up with kisses. 
  • they have sex for the first time in the morning, they would have breakfast with the sheriff then after he leaves to work, they cuddle on the couch, stiles keeps complaining about that he missed so many episodes from ( a tv show that he and lydia watch together), and lydia tells him that she hasn’t watched the episodes yet and he tells her “why? i thought it was you favorite show and i remember once you told me that it’s a life changing show?” she turns around to face him and she tells him “you weren’t there to complain about how stupid the show is. so i got bored and i didn’t continue watching it” 

“oh god, i love you” he says and then he kisses her.they make out until lydia pulls back and looks at him,stiles know what she wants “you sure?” he tells her ,she nodes and then she is kissing him again ,he pulls back and gets up from the couch, she stares at him confused then he offers his hand to her saying ”i don’t want our first time to be on a couch” she grins and takes his hand and they fuck. 

Rescued pt. 10

Summary:  After Bucky comes to your aid in a moment of panic you extend an invitation to family dinner. Neither of you could have foreseen how this small act of kindness would alter you, and your life, forever.

Pairing: Bucky x Reader
Warnings: Swearing, Alcoholism, 
Word Count: 2565

Author’s Note: Guys. This took for fucking ever to write. I’m not sure what happened to me but I hope I’m back and that I’ll be pumping the chapters out faster now. Also, I sincerely apologize if I missed any errors, my keyboard has been adding phantom letters and spaces while I’m typing and I only proof-read this once.


Your mom and dad had tried to console you, Karen had flat out told you that you were being dumb if you thought that any of this was your fault, and Jordan mumbled something about needing to do background checks. The one person who you could always count of to bring light to a situation and make you laugh was being uncharacteristically quiet.

Before you could ask Mikey how he was doing, your name was being called. Looking toward the door you spotted Bucky, leaning heavily on the doorjamb but looking a lot more alive than the last time you saw him.

“Bucky,” you breathed, heart leaping into your throat at the sight of him on his feet, “How are you fee- MIKEY, NO!”

Originally posted by perfectfeelings

It had been five days since the fight between Michael and Bucky. Five days since Bucky has been avoiding you, feeling like he was the cause of everything that had gone wrong in your life lately. His guilt, along with his healing injuries, saw him hiding in the medical ward and refusing any visitors.

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anonymous asked:

gallavich prompt: can you do something where one of them has an accident and forgets who the other is? :)

// ok I’ve given this my best shot…it’s a total standalone, full on oneshot, completely unrelated to my gallavich queer club universe (but trust me there is lots more of that coming!) enjoy //

‘Im sorry Mr Gallagher but he has amnesia.’

Ian sighed. 'But he’s going to remember? It’ll come back?’

'We can’t know anything for certain. I don’t want to promise something that may not happen. You’re free to visit him now, though. He’s awake.’

So Ian walked slowly down the corridor, breathing in the harsh chemical smell of the hospital. He just wanted to get to the room and see Mickey, yet he walked slower than ever. He knew that every step he took was a step closer to discovering something terrible.

'Can I come in?’, he called, knocking on the door. The man in the bed frowned at him, confused.

'I think you have the wrong room, man,’ he said, shrugging blankly.

Ian’s heart almost stopped. 'Mickey. It’s me. It’s Ian’, he whispered, shocked.

Mickey’s eyes widened. 'How the fuck do you know my name?’, he said, his tone suspicious and body inching away from Ian in caution, who had now entered the room.

Ian couldn’t believe what he was hearing. 'I know your name, Mickey Milkovich, because I have loved you for just shy of eight years.’

'I’m not a fucking fag,’ Mickey spat aggressively, but his eyes were fearful.

'You’ve got to be kidding me,’ Ian muttered incredulously. Mickey had reverted back to how he was before coming out. Before even knowing Ian. He walked up close to Mickey and got up close, the words falling slowly but piercingly out of his mouth. 'I don’t know what year you think you’re in, but back in 2014, you came out. You practically screamed it. Your dad beat the shit out of us, but we won. We went home and showered together and we didn’t fuck that night. We kissed with our broken faces and just lay side by side all night. Toe to toe, head to head. I held you. I kissed away your tears. And then, Mickey, then you rested your ear over my chest and you fell asleep listening to my heartbeat.’ Mickey was staring at him, paralysed. Ian wondered if he’d gone too far, but he didn’t stop. 'I know your name, Mickey Milkovich, because I can’t count the number of times I’ve fucking screamed out your name each time you coaxed my body into an orgasm…which you reciprocated nicely, might I add. Usually I top. But liking what you like don’t make you a bitch, isn’t that right?’

'I don’t know who the fuck you think you are but you need to shut your fucking mouth,’ Mickey practically whimpered. Then Ian calmed down a little. He realised that this wasn’t Mickey’s fault. So he spoke softly and less aggressively.

'I know your name, Mickey Milkovich, because six months ago, we got married. In the park here in Chicago. Our sisters were bridesmaids. Your brothers didn’t show up. But mine became yours. Lip was my best man. Kev was yours. And Yev was ring bearer. Your son - our son.’ Mickey was speechless. 'He’s almost five. And these are the rings he carried down the aisle to us,’ Ian said, holding up his hand to show the thick, plain silver band snug on his fourth finger. Then he tentatively reached out to run his thumb over Mickey’s identical ring. Mickey instinctively snatched his hand away like Ian’s touch burned him. 'In your vows, you told me that you loved me beyond any and all things. And you told me again later, when it was just us, because I still couldn’t believe it. It felt like a dream. Because I love you too, Mickey. So, so much,’ Ian told him, tears in his eyes, desperate. He clasped Mickey’s hand now and held on, his husband’s hand, the hand he knew better than his own, as he cried silently.

Mickey stared at their hands, fingering the ring on his finger, frowning. 'I don’t know where to even begin…they told me I had some amnesia but…how could I forget so much? There’s just, years and years missing. Years with you, apparently. You don’t seem like the sort of guy I could forget’, he whispered.

Ian raised his eyebrows. 'Was that - are you flirting?’ he almost laughed.

Mickey looked away awkwardly. 'Look, I know I’m gay. I’ve always known. I never kiss guys. Don’t want them to get attached…well. I don’t want to get attached to them, honestly.’

'You kiss me plenty. All of that playing-it-straight crap went to shit after a couple years with me.’

'Am I really married? To you?’ Ian reached for his wallet.

'I’ll bring more pictures from home, tomorrow - but I always have this one with me. This is us. Last May.’ Ian showed him the little rectangular picture.

'We look good,’ Mickey remarked, but the two men in tuxes with matching grins looked like strangers to him. There was a pause. 'Do I really have a kid?’

'Yes. He’s here,’ Ian said, flipping the pockets of the wallet over and revealing a photo from a year or so ago, of Yev sat on the couch at Ian and Mickey’s place. 'Yevgeny. We all call him Yev.’

'What kind of a -’


'Why?’ Ian considered how to answer. 'Who’s his mother?’

Ian sighed. 'It’s a long story. I’ll tell you another day.’ Mickey didn’t persist.

'How did we meet?’

Ian smiled. 'It was 2011. We were still living out our teenage years, though yours were nearly over. You thought I’d - hurt your sister and you just burst into the shop where I used to work, screaming out my name. Wouldn’t be the last time you did that…anyway. We didn’t really meet until I came to your place one morning. We started out fighting, pretty hard, but then you pinned me down and - I just remember our eyes locked and we just stared at each other, and we just knew. And then we were just doing it. Fucking in your twin bed. I was fifteen. Shit.’ He sighed. 'We kept hooking up in secret. Always rushing through the sex. Terrified of getting discovered. That was more you than me, but still. We didn’t even kiss for, like, two years. Not that I didn’t try. But we used to flirt shamelessly. That was more me than you. You were nothing like anyone I’d ever known. I didn’t think you could exist. But you did. Eventually you seemed to just accept that you wanted me and you weren’t going to deny yourself pleasure anymore. It was literally destroying you, Mick.’


Ian had gone to get them both coffee. On the walk back, he reflected. It was still unbelievable. And unfair. But when hadn’t things been with them? He didn’t know how he could tell Mickey everything. Svetlana. Terry. His bipolar. The accident. How could everything about them have been wiped clean out of his head?

As he returned, he was broken out of these thoughts by Mickey’s voice ringing down the corridor. He was…singing? Ian listened.

'And I don’t want the world to see me, cos I don’t think that they’d understand’, Mickey sang, scratchy but pure.

Ian stood in the doorway, frozen. Mickey noticed. 'Are you ok?’, he asked.

'Mick…why were you singing that song?’, he asked in a choked whisper.

Mickey shrugged. 'I don’t actually know. I seem to remember it from somewhere. And it’s - it’s nice. I guess,’ he said, puzzled. 'Why?’

Ian stepped inside the room slowly. 'That was the song we danced to at our wedding. It’s our song, it’s our fucking song’, he said, then sang the next line, voice shaking, 'when everything’s made to be broken, I just want you to know who I am.’

They didn’t say anything. They just stared at each other, both searching for things that the other didn’t know how to give.

Mickey slowly slipped off the ring and held it. 'So I can remember our wedding song but not the wedding’, he murmured bitterly.

Ian noticed Mickey’s eyes fill with tears. He knew him well enough to know that any second he would begin crying. He walked over and held Mickey, not caring if the gesture was too sudden - if his husband was crying, he was going to comfort him. Sure enough, Mickey gave a loud sob, then tears fell down his face as he began to cry. Ian absentmindedly stroked his neck, planted little kisses in his hair; it was second nature. 'Sorry,’ he said after a moment, worrying Mickey would react adversely to the affection.

Mickey shook his head. 'It’s fine. It’s - nice. That’s not it.’

'Then what?’

'It’s just…I want to remember it, all of it. Not only for my sake but for yours too, this isn’t fair to either of us’, Mickey sobbed.

Ian nodded. 'I know. I know’, he said, feeling tears sting his own eyes. After everything they’d been out through, this just felt like the sickest, most fucked up twist of fate.

Mickey slowly turned and looked at Ian. He had somehow ended up curled against Ian’s chest, a familiar position. They were so close; Ian could feel his breath on his neck and it took all the strength he had not to kiss Mickey. It was too soon, it was too soon, he kept telling himself.

But then Mickey reached up, slowly, tracing the outline of Ian’s face. Tentative at first, then coming to cradle Ian’s face in his palm. Mickey’s eyes fell to his lips.

'Oh fuck,’ Ian murmured, and gave in. He kissed him hard, and then Mickey returned the kiss, deepened it. Ian’s hands ran through Mickey’s hair and they really tasted each other. Ian couldn’t get enough of him, no matter how familiar he was. That was the beauty of it.

'Your kiss. I’ve had it before’, Mickey said breathlessly.

Ian smiled. 'My lips are clearly a pretty unforgettable experience’, he smiled through his tears. Mickey laughed.


Mickey had fallen asleep in his arms and Ian had stayed, holding him. It reminded him of old times, before the accident. They lay together on the bed, Ian breathing in the same old smell. The blood and the hospital couldn’t erase it; it was, unmistakably, home.

'Ian? Are you awake?’, he whispered.

Ian looked down at his husband. 'Yeah. I’m here.’

'I just want to say. I’m - I’m sorry. You don’t deserve this. I can’t imagine how hard it must be’, he said.

'It’s not your fault’, Ian began, but Mickey cut across -

'regardless. I’m sorry. And when the doctor sees me tomorrow, I’m going to find out how I can beat this thing - if I can. If I can’t, well…’, he trailed off, unsure what would happen.

'Then we’ll work through it. I vowed to take you in sickness and in health’, Ian reminded him. 'God knows you’ve done that for me. Look, I love you, Mickey. I will always love you. And I know you’ve forgotten how to love me, but I’ll remind you. I want you to remember, to feel it all again’, he whispered, kissing his neck.

Mickey smiled. 'Thank you, firecrotch,’ he muttered as his eyes closed, drifting back into sleep.

Ian’s heart jolted and he closed his eyes, grinning, as more tears came. 'You’re on your way back, aren’t you,’ he whispered, kissing Mickey’s forehead gently. He didn’t think his old nickname had ever made him cry before.

But that was their relationship. Expect the unexpected. Always.

// the end! PLEASE keep sending me prompts, I gotta write every day this month! //

garfieldbookworm  asked:

Can I request a TomStar fanfic? That ship needs more love.

That’s the second request I’ve gotten for TomStar so of course! I completely agree that TomStar needs more love.

Synopsis: Star is home alone and keeps thinking back on her previous relationship with Tom.

One More Dance

The moon hung in the sky facing down towards the two as though waiting for their next move. He held out his hand to her, she’d smile and take his hand in hers. Then they’d be off away dancing and laughing, going far from castles, royalty and responsibilities. But that was a long time ago, now Star wasn’t in her castle and they weren’t going to dance all night ever again.

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prince-hanamakin  asked:

;;; I just skimmed through a Zen angst while having my presentation slides done and now it's heavily affecting me n wow i feel down;; could u make RFA and MC's angsty fluff where both of them try to make up for a heavy fight they just had?

I decided to do scenarios for this one cause I was in a serious writing mood and I love angst with potentially happy endings! Also I’m so sorry that this took so long, it got out of hand and my school life has been hell on earth lately. Under cut cause this is so damn long.

- Aisia <3

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anonymous asked:

Hi! Prompt if you would like it: S3 Hannibal/Dimmond affair where Hannibal is trying to forget Will.

“How do you like to have it?” Dimmond asks, from between Hannibal’s legs, looking up and grinning that same easy, self-confident grin, the thing that makes his features, for all their soft, scruffy beauty, nothing whatsoever like Will’s had been.

Like Will’s are, because Will won’t be dead, Hannibal was careful about that.

(How careful? He was feeling under some emotional duress when he made that cut. Is his memory correct?)

Hannibal remembers everything precisely, and Will is not dead, and when Will’s knees buckled he gazed at Hannibal in fear and pain and remorse, because he was sorry, and Hannibal let him live to make him feel that forever and for no other reason, and that is over now.

“I like whatever you wish to give me,” Hannibal says, rolling the words out, and moves his leg, bringing in his ankle to press against Dimmond’s back and bring him in.

Dimmond raises his eyebrow, looking delighted, eyes flashing, and swallows his erection down so fast that Hannibal’s vision blurs.

Hannibal arches back his neck and pushes his hands against the edges of the wooden chest where he’s sitting, perched on the edge, Dimmond kneeling on the floor before him, his shirt off and his pale, lean chest bare, ringed with bite-marks from when they coupled the night before, here in Dimmond’s stylish and beautifully appointed Paris apartment.

Dimmond doesn’t keep any pets - laughed at the idea: Parasitical so-called ‘companion animals’ with whom we seek to staunch the pitiful wounds in our emotional lives? Oh Boris, don’t tell me you have a weakness for them!

(Of all the things that could be reflected upon about Will’s current status - not that Will’s status is worthy of reflection - the question of who is feeding his dogs now is so utterly not germane to anything)

Dimmond has many lovers - this he is at pains to make clear. No great romances, Boris, I’m not the staying type. He is not insular, not isolated and yet he remains apart, aloof.

Hannibal gasps a little as the head of his cock hits the back of Dimmond’s fluttering throat, and thinks of Tobias Budge, and suitable friends, and similarity.

He could probably have had sex with Tobias if they’d had more time, if he’d been interested in it, if he hadn’t had a creeping suspicion that - for all his denials - Franklyn might have been there first.

Tobias tried to kill Will, and Hannibal killed him for it, back when he believed Will worthy of preservation.

(Not that Will is dead. Will is almost certainly not dead)

“Fah,” Dimmond says, pulling away and breathing deeply, braced with his hands on his thighs. “You have quite the stamina there, Boris.”

Hannibal blinks, and realises with a twinge of dismay that he’s actually softening a little.

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The first Time: Stiles Stilinski Imagine for Anon

Can u do a cute stiles smut like a first time

Ok guys, i have never done a smut before and i don’t really know if ill like writing them, but i thought i could make this one really cute and stuff. :)

It was Friday night. Aka movie marathon with the buds. Aka eat too much junk food and watch stupid comedies with Stiles and Scott. For the last couple years you three have been so close, about three months ago, you and Stiles kissed at a party and now, you maybe dating..you aren’t really sure..neither is he. You walked into Stiles house without even knocking, thats how close you guys were. “Yo Stiles, I’m here. Where are you?” You yelled out and headed straight to the kitchen looking for some pop. “Coming!” He yelled from upstairs. “Hey, so bad news…or good news depending on how you look at it.” He said with his phone in his hand. “What?” You laughed. “Scott is sick. Fever, puking, all that fun stuff. So looks like its just you and..me…” you felt fear instantly. Or maybe that was excitement. “Ohh…” You said. “Well, looks like I’m picking the movie then.” You gave him a sly smile. Scott and Stiles always agreed on picking the dumbest movies. “Fine.so Chinese sound good?” He asked. “Yeah sure.” You replied. 

“Here try this.” You put chopsticks holding noodles infant of his face and whenever he tried to take a bite you moved them. “Hey, i will bite you.” He said, you laughed and continued. “No you won’t. Im too fast for you.” Then he grabbed your hand and took the noodles. “Hey thats cheating!” You laughed as sauce fell onto his shirt. “Oh here.” You grabbed a napkin and started whipping it off his blue shirt, and his neck, and his cheek. “Thanks..” He said while starring a you. It took you a second to realize you were starring at his lips the entire time. “yeah no problem.” You said and quickly turned. For the next twenty minutes you both sat starring at the TV. You weren’t even paying attention and you didn’t think Stiles was either. For some reason you were getting really really nervous, and that was making you really hot. You couldn’t take it anymore so you started taking your cardigan off, leaving you in a white tank top. You felt Stiles’s eyes on you. The whole time. “Can i ask you something?” You heard his voice suddenly. “Of course.’ You answered. He slid closer to you. “What are…we? Or are we anything?” He asked. “I really don’t know. I have been wondering that myself.” You felt your face going red, thank god it was dark in here. “I mean we kissed..a few times, we do this…” He took your hand and held it. “We cuddle. And we are always together. i know the pack thinks we are together. Or …should be.” He said, you starred at him, his eyes, his mouth, his cute puppy dog eyes again. All of a sudden you were on him. Your lips on his, pushing him backwards, slamming him into the couch.  He seemed confused for a second then melted into it. His hands found your face, then your waist, then your thighs. Your hands on his face, though his hair. You started grabbing his shirt when he stopped you. “Sorry..” You said getting off of him. “No no no, i just think we should go like..upstairs.” He smiled, you smiled. Then he yanked you off the couch and pulled you into him, his lips hard against yours, his hands grabbing at your waist. You both made your way upstairs without parting. 

Once you got to his room, you fell onto the bed and he fell onto of you. He kissed your neck as you took his shirt off, then he took your shirt off. You made out on the bed for a few minutes before he asked; “Are you sure?” You were both panting. “Yeah, yeah i am.” You said and smiled. He went to the bathroom quickly and came back. He walked over to you and bent down to kiss you, you pulled him onto the bed again. He undid your pants, and you undid his belt. Before your knew it you were both in your underwear. You decided to slip under the blanket and he followed. He fumbled with the condom for a minute before looking at you. You knew that look meant it was about to happen. You touched his face softly, leading him over you. He delicately slid your undies off. He kissed you as it happened. Your hands around his back, gripping him as the pain passed. “Are you okay?” He whispered. You nodded. 

You both started to pant now, the pain stopped and pleasure took over. Stiles buried his face in your neck, his hot breath gave you goosebumps. You couldn’t help but let little sounds out when things were getting good and whenever you did Stiles seemed to do the same. You couldn't help but dig your nails into his back. “Hey.” He said and laughed. “sorry.” You said. He kissed your and laced his fingers in-between yours, resting them by your head. 

All of a sudden you felt something. Something big was coming. You felt like your were going to explode into stardust. Your panting picked up, his did too. You dug your nails into his hands and he didn’t seem to care about the pain, was too busy concentrating. You arched your back, you couldn’t control anything anymore. You let out a sound that seemed to send Stiles, and yourself over the edge. The world finally stopped, you felt everything melt, every atom you were made of collided with his, warmth rolled over your body like a wave over sand, binding you to him. You felt at peace. 

His let his weight collapse on you, his face buried in your neck again. You both lay there trying to catch your breath. Trying to come back to planet earth. Once you did you moved to look at Stiles. He was starring at you. examining your face. Neither of you said anything, he just gently grabbed your face and pulled you closer to him, his lips gently touching yours. 

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mylunarsolstice  asked:

It was a ridiculous gift from Cora. She was laughing so hard there were tears in her eyes when he opened up on their weekly Skype call. He tried to scowl at her, but he couldn't help but let out a few chuckles himself. He never really thought about taking it out of the package, he had no use for it, until he heard about Stiles. How the young man wasn't really sleeping, or if he did it was out of sheer exhaustion with his latest research project. How a couple times he woke up in panic attacks -

because of how dark his room had gotten and he thought things were moving. He never told the young man when he set it up in his room. Just left it in a spot where he wouldn’t see it until his lights turned off and the moon light shined. It a couple weeks before Stiles allowed himself to turn off the lights but when he did, Derek watched as the gentlest smile took over his face as he looked at the moon. “Thanks Sourwolf,” was a whisper on the wind but Derek heard it nonetheless.




I saw this pop up in my inbox before I went to bed last night, and it was like, maaaaaaybe 10 minutes after I posted that thing. And it’s this lovely and perfect thing? 

Just how? It’s so good! Your brain is a wonderful and amazing thing my friend.

….and now i go off on an angsty tangent, but it’s your fault because you got me thinking about his sister giving it to him….

So, what if it was a gift from Laura. Still a mostly-joke gift, but a little bit serious. She got it after they moved to New York, because you can’t always see a full moon in the city. Derek is still drowning in guilt and she wanted to offer some small comfort and she saw the full moon nightlight and thought, “This might help him.” So she bought it with only a little bit of sardonic intent.

Derek pretended to hate it when he came home and found it mounted on his wall, but when he went to bed that night he turned it on and found it actually made him feel a little better.

It was even better when later in the night Laura came in to lie down with him and stare at the softly glowing false moon light. Over the next few years, he doesn’t use it every night, and Laura doesn’t come in that often, but it’s enough that sometimes he can sleep without nightmares. Laura, too.

After he comes back to BH and finds Laura dead, the nightlight is one of the only things that comes back with him. He puts it on every night and tries to remember what the comfort it gave him feels like. It takes a long time for it to work again, though by then he also has a sort of pack, and a complicated relationship with a mouthy, sarcastic, beautiful man who though he is a few years younger, is so much more clever, and full of life; who is someone he can’t stop wanting.

After all the trauma and drama of life in Beacon Hills, after the Nogitsune and the aftermath, Stiles is…quieter. He’s not the same loud, bright force of nature he was. He loses weight, he talks less, his amber eyes are framed by dark smudges and rimmed in red more often than not. He smells of guilt and fear and doubt. Everything about him screams exhaustion. And no one else seems to notice.

Derek doesn’t know how to talk to him about it, despite whatever growing he’s done, he still hasn’t quite gotten to the point that he can find the right words, not for something this important at least. He tries to reach out in subtle ways, but whether it’s the lack of sleep dulling his awareness, or his guilt convincing him that he doesn’t deserve to reach out for the comfort, it doesn’t seem to work.

One night, Derek finds himself in bed staring at the ceiling, unable to do anything but think about Stiles. About how to help him, and about what it would be like if he were to let Derek hold him and offer the comfort he’s so desperate to give. About whether he’ll still smell like spring and spice underneath the pain. He looks out the window and sees the waxing moon glowing brightly, casting its soothing light over the world outside and filling Derek’s bedroom with soft illumination where it filters through his curtains.

And then, Derek knows what he can give to Stiles.

So he takes the nightlight out of his drawer (or perhaps it is on his wall, not forgotten, but not often used), and gets in his car, and drives to Stiles’. He has a suspicion that he isn’t asleep.

When he arrives, he sees that Stiles is actually in bed, curled up tightly and facing away from the window. So Derek eases the window open quietly, enters the room and as noiselessly as possible he hangs the moon nightlight on the wall where Stiles will see it when he wakes up. He pauses for just a minute to watch Stiles, the steady movement of his breathing.

He sighs, it’s laced with so many conflicting feelings: regret, guilt, longing. Hope. He makes his way quietly back to the window and is about to slide it open again when Stiles’ sleep rough voice calls out “Any particular reason you’re sneaking into my room at stupid o’clock in the morning, Der?” Despite the low volume, it breaks the silence in the room like a thunderclap, and the way he sounds so much like Stiles pre-possession makes Derek’s heart ache.

Derek clears his throat before he tries to speak, but he still sounds strange when he says “I was uh, just dropping something off for you,”

Stiles rolls over in his bed to look at Derek, looking toward the nightlight where it sits on his wall when Derek gestures at it. “You. You brought me the moon?” Stiles sounds small and disbelieving in a way he never has, and Derek feels his heart sink into his stomach. He wants so much to take the few steps necessary to close the distance between them and hold Stiles’ face in his hands and offer him some sort of reassurance. 

He isn’t sure he’d be welcome, so he pushes his feet into the floor instead and says “Laura got it for me after–When we moved away from here. It helped me sleep, sometimes.” Stiles is just looking at him, listening with a look of rapt awe on his face, so he continues. “Some nights Laura would come and sleep in my room with me, we’d both look at that moon until we fell asleep. It kept the nightmares away. Some nights, anyways.”

Stiles still hasn’t said anything, so Derek takes a deep breath and nods, preparing to leave. “Right, so. If you want to keep it, you can. I just thought that maybe it could do for you what it did for me.”

Before he turns around, Stiles says a quiet “Thank you,” and it’s so full of gratitude that it hits Derek with an almost physical force. He nods and heads toward the window, a “Good night, Stiles” on the tip of his tongue, but before he can say it, before he can get his fingers wrapped all the way around the window sill, Stiles calls out again, still a quiet storm breaking through the still air in the room. “Derek?”

“Yeah?” Derek tries to make the word sound like “anything you need from me” and he thinks it works, because the next thing Stiles says sounds like a plea and a sigh of relief, even if he sounds uncertain about the answer.

“Can you maybe stay? With me?”

Derek fixes the curtain and turns back toward Stiles, a soft smile lifting the very corners of his mouth. This time, he says out loud “Anything you need,” as he makes his way toward the bed as Stiles scoots over to make room, lifting the edge of the covers. Derek toes off his shoes and sheds his coat before climbing into the bed carefully, intending to keep some distance between them. 

Stiles has other ideas apparently, because as soon as Derek is settled, Stiles moves next to him, asking “Is this okay?” as he lifts his arm to hover over Derek’s chest, waiting to set it down until Derek moves closer to him and wraps his other arm around Stiles’ shoulders.

When Stiles relaxes against him, there’s a soft sigh that Derek isn’t entirely certain didn’t come from him. He’s halfway asleep moments later when Stiles says again “You brought me the moon.”

A few seconds later, his head gets just a little heavier where it rests on Derek’s shoulder, and he’s asleep. Derek smiles into the top of his head and holds him a little tighter, whispering “Good night, Stiles” as he lets himself drift to sleep, content in the knowledge that under the guilt and fear, Stiles still smells like springtime and spice as the glow from the moon nightlight on the wall bathes the room in soft light.


So, uh, this got long?

@halesheart have not one, but TWO WHOLE STORIES ABOUT MOON NIGHTLIGHTS!

Thanks for the inspiration both of you! Also, @pale-silver-comb I think you might enjoy this?

Unintended Chapter 5


summary: Foreston Academy was the very last resort for angry, lonely Dan Howell. He never could have imagined meeting anyone like Phil Lester, and Phil never could have known that befriending his new roommate would change his life entirely.

Is there such a thing as being too forgiving?

betas: comefeedmyobsession and kaleidanscope


warnings: bad chapter name i mean wow zelda couldn’t u think of anything better than ‘roof tiles and piano’ smh

Dan curled up against the wall, the drummers in his head banging harder and harder, the agony splitting his skull as his red eyes blurred with tears.

Maybe it would hurt less if he stopped crying. But Dan couldn’t stop crying.

Four days. That was a new record for him. One of them wasn’t even a schoolday.

He didn’t know what to do- the world around him had seemed to start imploding, wave upon wave of horrible flashbacks and thoughts and sickening fears overwhelming him until he felt his head could burst with the pain.


‘We’re putting Buttercup down,’ he hissed, sharp Southern accent cold and emotionless.

'Please. Father, please, no,’ Dan is on the floor before him, face screwed up and red and his knees on the cold marble floor.

'Perhaps you should learn that there will be consequences to your atrocious behaviour in the future, Daniel!’

'Please, Father! Please!’ His voice is just a choked sob now, because he is breaking- his only friend- he can’t- he wouldn’t-

'She’s not done anything!’

'But you have. And you need to learn.

Besides… I never liked that damn dog anyway.’


Dan saw two long black-clad legs walk past him and sit on the bed. Two minutes later they were up again. And then Phil was pacing.

Dan wondered if the sound of his desperate sobbing was annoying Phil, and started to feel sorry that he had woken him up last night to see him in this pathetic state.

'I’m sorry,’ he managed to choke out. His vision was too blurred to see legs too clearly, and his viewpoint too low to see anything above the boy’s waist, but he saw Phil stop pacing and turn to face him.

And then Phil was crouching level with him a few metres back, and Dan could see the blue shining eyes beneath the blurry splash of black that defined the top of his head.

'You should be,’ Phil said slowly, and then sighed as Dan dissolved into fresh sobs, body shaking with fear.

Phil didn’t really understand- Dan had beaten people up before- and he didn’t enjoy it as such, but it made him feel good. It was the only way he could ever get any control or respect, and commanding an audience of people as large as there was today made him feel as though he was actually of some importance- for once not clutching at loose footholds that let him slide helplessly down the cliff face when they crumbled- for once, he was not the useless one, the unimportant one, the pathetic one.

So he wasn’t sorry for that.

He also wasn’t sorry for the way he had behaved at the school. The teachers had dragged him off, and told him that he was disrespecting the long and gracious history of the school. This school is here to understand you, they had said. This school is here to help you and let you be who you truly are, they had said. But Dan didn’t want to be who he truly was. Dan despised the person he was. So he wasn’t sorry about that.

He had treated Phil like shit, he knew. He understood that the boy was a genuinely nice person, and although he wasn’t fully clear why Phil had tried to be his friend even after Dan had made it clear that they weren’t to associate, Phil had changed things the night he took Dan down to Firespot. Phil had put the idea into Dan’s mind that perhaps he could be happy with these sorts of people. Perhaps even that he could not be considered pathetic.

The following day had shown that that couldn’t be the case. And so Dan wasn’t sorry about how he had treated Phil.


He was crying now, horrific sobs crumpling his body in pain and causing him to gasp and snort and all the other vile noises that you make when you’re breaking inside, and Phil looked uncomfortable, and Dan just wished he would leave. He wished Phil hadn’t heard him last night, and he wished he had just told Phil to go back to bed, and he wished he had just kept himself where he belonged- nowhere near someone like Phil. Because now he was stuck in this confusing mess and Phil wasn’t leaving the room and yes, he was sorry that Phil had to listen to his sorrow.

But really, this situation was all Dan’s fault. Dan knew that he was wrong. Dan knew that he had acted like a dickhead. And Dan knew that he had acted irresponsibly. And most of all Dan knew he had acted cruelly. What he had done to Chris had been wholly unnecessary. Having woken up to the horror of another boy lying so close to him, he had exploded at the sight of Chris and PJ acting so intimately as he entered the canteen, and the situation had spiralled so out of control that here he was now, the school a short conversation away from ringing his parents.

And when they did that, his life would be over.

His punishments had gotten worse and worse over the years as he consistently broke the rules, but Dan genuinely couldn’t think of anything else they could take from him.

Dan had nothing else he cared about any more. And so the sickening tarry pit of fear in his stomach was not because of any of these things.

It was because he knew that when his parents found out, they really would hate him.

And for that, Dan hated himself. Dan had hated himself for quite a long time now.


Dan owed it to Phil to reply, so he choked back his next sob with an ugly squeak and, still staring down at the carpet, replied, ‘I’m sorry, Phil. I’m so sorry.’

'So, what’s happening?’ Phil asked awkwardly. Dan could see that Phil was still furiously angry. But it was like he was programmed to be almost unbearably nice and kind, and so just couldn’t let Dan sob his heart out without at least trying to do something. Which used to infuriate Dan. Now it just made him realise even more how horrible and useless a human he was. ‘Are you going to get excluded?’

'What makes you assume that?’

'You seem devastated. And from what I’ve seen of you so far, you wouldn’t be this cut up about hurting Chris.’ There was an awkward pause as Phil watched Dan dissolve back into self-loathing. 'I’m sorry. That was harsh.’

Phil’s voice was wooden and Dan just looked away.

'I do care,’ he whispered.

'I know you do,’ Phil replied gently, and they both knew that he was lying. 'Do you want a tea?’

Dan twisted around so he was looking up at Phil angrily. ‘Alot of fucking good a tea is gonna do me right now!’ He shouted, voice cracking on the words.

'I was just trying to be nice!’ Phil almost-shouted back, 'I don’t have to do anything for you! I shouldn’t even be speaking to you, after what you did to one of my best friends!’

'Then don’t!’

For a second it looked like Phil was going to storm out again, but something in his expression changed and he stopped still, every muscle tensed up. ‘Why are you like this, Dan?’

Dan clawed his way up the wall so he was face-to-face with Phil, their noses inches apart. ‘Why am I like what?’ He spat.

Phil didn’t answer, simply glaring hard at Dan, Adam’s Apple bobbing in his throat, and Dan could see every little imperfection on his face and every colour in his eyes- turns out they were not completely sky-blue as he had thought, but rather an ocean of different colours that swam around with expression and emotion, lit bright from behind by all the care that Phil put into everything and everyone, and the passion with which he stared back into Dan’s eyes now.

'You don’t understand anything,’ Dan hissed. 'You’ve had such an easy life. You’ve gone to one school, you’ve had friends and classes and you’ve behaved and you had parents that gave a shit about you and-‘

He choked off and looked away, glaring down at his feet, furious at himself for giving Phil so much of himself, before quickly treading as hard as he was able on Phil’s foot and running out of the room as fast as possible.



'Mate, don’t worry about me. I’m Northern. Made of some tough stuff!’

'I’m from up north aswell!’ laughed Phil, 'but I wouldn’t be overly chuffed with a broken leg!’

'Well, I’m not saying I’m happy about it,’ Chris said, rolling his eyes,'but y'know, it’s not actually broken…and it’s quite soothing in here after having to share a room with Peej snoring his head off!’

'Oi! Watch it! You may be an invalid but it doesn’t mean I can’t hurt you!’

'Ooh, I’d like to see you try!’

PJ raised his eyebrows. ‘Make me.’

'God guys,’ Phil moaned, 'do you want me to leave you to it!?’

'Mmm, please,’ giggled Chris as his painkillers came into effect and his head dropped onto the pillow, 'you might not wanna be here when Chris and I,’ he yawned, eyes screwed up with sudden tiredness, 'get frisky!’

'I might go back anyway,’ Phil said, turning to PJ (who was making gagging motions in response to Chris’ comment) as Chris drifted off, 'time’s ticking on.’

'I think I’ll stay in the hospital wing a little longer with him,’ PJ replied, nodding. 'You seen Dan?’ Phil nodded affirmation, 'he deserves to get kicked out for this. Actually, he should be getting police attention. He’s insane.’

'He’s screwed up, Peej.’

'What do you mean?’

'I think his life’s been a mess. I keep getting little hints off him before he clams up. Something… There’s something wrong.’

'A tragic history may explain a crime but it doesn’t excuse it.’

'Where did you get that pearl of wisdom from?’

'Dunno. Can you stick a cup under that leak when you leave? The rain’s getting in. Would have thought the hospital wing would have slightly better roofing, if I’m honest.’


Phil turned round quickly as he left, and he could have sworn that PJ was holding Chris’ sleeping hand.




It was raining outside and Dan was just in a black tshirt and jeans. Atleast his dark attire would mean he was less likely to be spotted outside out-of-hours, he thought.

Not that he could really get into much more trouble than he was already in.

His hair was already plastered to his head, rain running down his face in icy rivulets and merging with his stinging hot tears.

He reached up to brush away the water in his eyes but his arm was just as wet as the rest of him and the gesture was pointless and he was trembling with cold and fear and his mouth was dry and his head was splitting in half and half again.

By the time he reached the clearing in the trees that contained the dead embers of Monday’s bonfire, he didn’t realise that his feet had taken him all the way to Firespot.

His clothes were all plastered to his body and his hair drooped pathetically over his face.

As he approached the edge of the clearing again, he automatically gravitated towards the spot he had sat with Phil only two nights ago, curling up on the sodden wood and breathing in the smell of the rain and the damp leaves and mud and tree bark.




When Phil reached his happy place, he almost jumped out of his skin.

There was somebody there already.


After leaving the hospital wing Phil had realised he wasn’t ready to go back to the room, so after borrowing PJ’s waterproof mac and cuddling up in it, he had headed outside into the building storm.

Now his fingers were numb with cold and his face spattered with rain, but he felt calmer and less confined. He had been looking forward to arriving at his beloved Firespot and being able to sit down, completely alone with his own thoughts, to mull over how he felt about everything.

And yet, there was somebody there.

Phil crept over, feet squelching in the mud, and realised before he got to him that curled up on the seat was the defeated figure of Dan. Of course it was. Of course it was.

Phil walked away from the place that made him happiest.

Just at that moment, he couldn’t deal with it all.


‘Dude you’ve been playing the piano for over an hour and it’s now 3am so I just came to tell you to shut the fuck up.’

Dan spun round to see Chris limp out of the shadows behind him, face and hair partially veiled in blackness.

‘How did you even hear me?’

‘The hospital wing is directly above the music suites, and seeing as my leg is in fucking agony, it may not surprise you to know I’ve had some difficulty sleeping. Basically, the dorms are at the other side of the building, but the hospital wing is conveniently placed over here. Peej is still asleep because he’s a heavy sleeper. Also… I’m not sure how many loons frequently play music at such obscene hours in the morning.’

Dan looked away, trying to hold back the tears. Of course it would be Chris to come and find him. Of all of the hundreds of pupils in this school, of course it had to be Chris.

‘What the fuck is going on with you?’ Chris approached him slowly, carefully, as though he was a bomb that could explode any second. Dan guessed after all that was exactly what he was. A thing to be feared. Unpredicatble, uncontrollable, and hated by everyone.

He didn’t wipe the salty tears away quick enough for Chris not to see.

‘How long have you been like this?’

‘Like what?’ Dan’s hands were still resting on the cold ivory keys- the one single place he felt he was capable of expressing himself.

‘Like…’ Chris waved his arms around as he tried to articulate his thoughts, ‘Like… Well, so… Hating everybody… The people who want to give a damn about you…

‘So… Stupid…’

This angered Dan. ‘Stupid? What the fuck is that supposed to mean? How am I stupid?’ Dan had no redeeming qualities- he knew that- he was a fuck-up in every way, a by-product, good at nothing… But he was sure that he wasn’t stupid. Intelligent- not overly. But not an idiot. After all, he was able to see his own flaws- wasn’t that a thing that made you smart?

‘Yeah, you’re stupid. You’re a goddamn idiot, Dan. Phil… And Peej, and even me, we wanted to help you. We decided to be your friend, and you were a wanker. And then guess what? Phil still took you down to Firespot, and you did it again. Infact, then you decided to out-do yourself. Really,’ he guestured down at his crippled form, and Dan wondered how much he hurt. Probably not as much as Dan himself. ‘You’re stupid because you think David’s crew are where you belong. You’re stupid because you think they actually give a shit about you-’


‘What do you mean, no?’

‘I mean, no. You’re wrong. David and his gang don’t give a shit about me, and I do know that. Nobody gives a shit about me. You have to understand. I accept that. If I wasn’t me, I would hate me too. No, no, I do hate me.’

‘Oh shut up with your self-pitying crap, Dan,’ if Chris had been less exhausted and in agony and if Dan hadn’t been the reason for both of those things, perhaps Chris would have been gentler. But Chris was a good person, and he was pissed off with Dan. ‘We tried. Phil tried so fucking hard. And you still think we didn’t give a shit about you?’

‘You don’t after what I did,’ sighed Dan, staring at his hands, still resting on the piano keys.

‘That wasn’t the question!’ Chris flared up, voice an angry loud-whisper. ‘You’re making all of this about self-pity! If you had stopped being such a wuss, you could have just told those guys to shove off. And then you wouldn’t be in this state!’

‘But I couldn’t. I didn’t. You’re right- I am pathetic.’

Chris allowed himself just a second to howl into his hand in frustration. The darkness in the room filled out between them.

Dan broke the silence that followed with a soft, sad note on the piano, followed by another, followed by another. As he begun to spin the threads of a melody, he looked up at Chris, who slowly nodded his head in silence.

Soon, Chris was sucked in by a gentle, soothing flow of music, the notes swirling around him and taking over all of his anger and frustration, letting it leak out like a poison as he sunk into the tune.

‘What’s that?’ Chris asked when he finished, letting out a deep breath he didn’t know he had been holding in.

‘Uh, it’s called “Dearly Beloved”, from the game Kingdom Hearts? It was kinda like a shittier version of Final Fantasy. But the music was good.’

‘Mhm,’ Chris said, nodding his head as he he looked over at Dan slowly. ‘You’re not okay, are you?’

Dan stared down at they piano, and a glistening tear fell onto one of the keys.

‘I’m going to get Phil. You need to talk to him.’

Dan leapt up and grabbed Chris’ arm. ‘No! Please, no! He hates me.’

Chris rolled his eyes. ‘We both have reason to hate you, dude. And I’m helping you.’

Dan’s voice was low and confused. ‘Why?’

‘Because you need help.’

‘I don’t.’ His voice was now almost inaudible.

‘You’re a mess. And it’s not me you need.I know you need Phil. I can see it every time you look at him.’

As Chris started to stride towards the door of the music suite, Dan dropped onto his knees, eyes once again filling with tears.


‘Dan?’ Phil’s voice was soft over the sound of the breeze and the night and the shushing of the stars, because that’s what the silvery night does- it make you feel like you need to be quiet. ‘Dan? Are you up here?’

Phil looked around, head filling with hundreds of panicky situations and reasons why he could fall to his death any moment, and his feet were rooted to the spot, slate tiles slanted scarily beneath him and reflecting the moon’s silver with the rain of the night, his feet six floors further off the ground than he would have liked them to be.

And then at the other side of the sloped roof, Phil saw the silhouette of a boy stretched languidly out under the stars, hair being played with by the wind and skin being tickled by the moonlight.

Phil closed his eyes and took a deep breath, placing one foot forward and then when he felt safe enough, another.

Chris had followed Dan up here. He had said the boy needed Phil.

After everything, was Phil willing to give up his time for this boy? Certainly not his life, right?

Of course he was. Dan needed his help. And who would Phil be if he denied his help to someone?

And then the moon drifted slowly behind a grey cloud.

The darkness was all-consuming, and so was the absolute fear that gripped at Phil’s heart.

The sole of his shoe didn’t have enough grip to hold him in place as his arms flailed and black hair flashed in the wind, and he let out an earsplitting scream as he slid backwards across the tiles-

‘I’ve got you- I’ve got you! It’s okay. Shhh, Phil, Phil, I’m so sorry, I’m sorry, I’m-

Phil’s breathing was rapid and horrified and brain haywire as he started to grasp the fact that he had almost fallen to his death.

His eyes travelled up the one outstretched arm that was holding him stable on the slippery slate tiles, past his forearm, still in PJ’s rented raincoat, his pale trembling arm, clasped in another-

‘Give me your other hand,’ Dan whispered to him, ‘I can’t hold you up for much longer.’

Numbly, head still mostly uncomprehending, Phil pressed his hand into Dan’s freezing cold one, and slowly, the two of them started to steady themselves on the roof.

Phil was trembling all over. He hated heights as it was, and his near-fall had completely shaken him up. He didn’t want to be here. With Dan, who didn’t care about anyone-

Dan; who had saved his life.

‘Don’t thank me or anything,’ Dan whispered, after realising that Phil was much to scared to release his unrelenting grasp on Dan’s hands, ‘It’s my own idiot fault that you’re up here in the first place, I, I, I almost killed you.’

Phil still didn’t say anything.

‘This is all my fault. All you wanted to do was help me. Chris explained. I mean, I guess I knew that, really. I’m not that stupid. I think.’ He paused, cocking a head on one side, as though wondering just how much Phil was listening. Admittedly, the answer was not much. ‘But please, Phil. I don’t know if I can… Be normal. But we like the same music and books and food and oh my god, Firespot, and I don’t know, I just, I know I don’t deserve it, and you can say no and, I just, could you… Give me a second chance? I mean, I know I don’t deserve it, I know, and… Yeah…’

Fleetingly, the thought crossed Phil’s mind how easy it would be to shut Dan up by pressing his own warm lips to Dan’s, to hold his cheeks, flushed with the cold night air, and to let go of his hands just to tangle them in his dark hair.

When Phil caught himself, he had to take in a deep breath of the cold September air.

Delirious with fear… Shock… Gratitude… Or something. Right?

‘Are you okay just to walk down here a little?’ Dan asked, motioning with his head (Phil still had his hands tightly clasped in his own) towards Dan’s spot a little further down the roof. It wasn’t far, but… Dan wanted Phil with him.

If he was going to do this, he was going to do it here. Dan didn’t know why, but the cold roof and the dark damp night air and the isolation of the height calmed Dan. For some reason, Dan was able to think up here.

He had found the way up onto the roof completely by accident. After Chris had left the music room, Dan had realised he needed to flee before he came back with Phil, and so he had run as far and as madly as he was able in the opposite direction from the dorms.

The corridor that lead to the stairs that lead to another corridor which lead to a tiny hidden doorway which lead to the balcony which lead to the roof was clearly not meant to be found by students, so Dan had known he wouldn’t be disturbed.

He hadn’t counted on Chris following him.

But for some reason, when Dan had seen Phil stumble out onto the roof, things had become clearer in his head; he knew that he had to stay at Foreston; he knew that he had to stay with Phil, with Chris, with the ‘misfits’ of Firespot. For the first time, Dan realised that it might not be a terribly bad thing to not fit in perfectly. In fact, he wondered if trying to fit in was where he had been going wrong all along.

And so he had resolved himself to tell Phil. Tell Phil everything, if he wanted to hear it.

And Phil was here, and now they were sat with their legs hanging over the edge of the roof, hands intertwined and hair blowing lightly in the breeze, and Phil’s blue eyes fixed on his own brown ones, and Dan tried as hard as he could.

‘I’m not going to ever try and excuse anything I do,’ He said as he watched Phil’s and his own legs swing back and forwards together in time, the dark gardens of the school far below their feet, ‘But you said you wanted to know what was wrong. And… I guess I was terrified of making my parents hate me. Well, I mean, I think they already do, but…’

For a second it looked like Phil was about to interrupt, so Dan looked up at him in earnest, begging the midnight-haired boy not to stop him.

‘I’m kinda just in the way all the time. Like, I don’t have any siblings or anything, and I never had any friends round either, unless my mum tried to force me. But I wasn’t all that good at making friends… I don’t know, it all sounds so stupid! I’m just a dickhead, I just-’

‘Dan,’ Phil’s hand gently squeezed his own and then he let go, wrapping his arm around Dan’s waist.

Automatically, Dan leant into him.

‘Have I done too much to be forgiven?’

‘I don’t know. You sprained Chris’ leg. Or something, I’m not sure. He’s not gonna be able to walk properly for a few weeks, so he’s not best pleased, I’ll give you that. I just… I want to like you, Dan. A lot of the time, I do. I want this to not be you, to not be your fault…’

‘But it is.’

‘But it is.’

Dan pressed his face hard into his hands before scraping his fingers back over his scalp and through his tangled, windswept hair.

‘Please don’t hate me,’

‘I don’t hate you, Dan!’ For some reason, Phil looked genuinely shocked, even a little angry, ‘We’re going around in circles here! If I hated you, would I be here? I want you to be you, the real Dan that I know is inside there, the one that sings his lungs out to Muse, and the one that wants to be a good person and do something with his life, and the one that runs across a steep wet roof because he thinks his friend is going to fall off-’

‘Anyone would have done that.’

‘No they wouldn’t.’

‘I don’t deserve another chance.’

‘If you keep saying that, I am going to get so annoyed that I might just swandive off this roof of my own accord.’ Phil growled in reply.

The rain had stopped by then but the night was still thick with the memory of it; the roof tiles slick and shiny and the leaves on the trees heavy and dripping and Dan’s hair damp and curling.

And the night’s storm had left its legacy on the morning with the thick black clouds that filled the sky, the heavy silent night pressing down all around them, not uncomfortably so, but overwhelmingly, deafeningly silent. The blackness was oppressing and inky, torn apart only by the golden glow of streetlights far away towards the road, and the tiny pinpricks of light that dotted the Foreston gardens.

It was now that hour where everything is dead: infact, it was no longer even night, but the miserable time of morning where the only people that were awake in England were the ones sailing their lorries down the motorway in the black, eyes drooping and misty with lack of sleep and radio station turned up loud with garish club remixes to try and keep them awake. Back at Foreston, Dan talked. He spoke in a low voice that barely even classified as a whisper, his tone raw and his speech filled with constant pauses to take rasping breaths. He tried to keep those breaths as quiet as possible, as so not to break the thick darkness around them, and he started to tell Phil everything.

He even told Phil about how he had been expelled from his previous two schools- the posh, private boarding schools that had thrown him out after he got too out of control. The threat his dad made to him the night before he left for Foreston Academy- if he got expelled again, he would be sent off to a behavioural camp.

Dan told Phil how his father was always true to his word.

Phil had a raincoat on, dark and crinkly and shiny with wet, and Dan pressed his side into it, the material transferring all the rainwater straight onto his jumper, causing him to shiver as it soaked right through. Dan had been drenched earlier in the night after his stupid venture into the woods, but he had seized the oppurtunity to dry himself off and change when he noticed the room was empty.

But he didn’t regret cuddling up to Phil, because as he continued to talk, and the black-haired boy listened in perfect silence, he felt a hand tentatively wind itself in his.

And when Dan looked up into Phil’s face, the boy gave him a look as if to say ‘Is this okay?’

And Dan tried to give him a look back that adequately conveyed the message, ‘yes, yes. All the yes’s in the world, yes.’


Eventually, Dan’s story was over, and he was overwhelmed with a guilt and embarrassment for having talked solely about himself for so long. But Phil gave his hand a comforting squeeze.

Dan placed his hand on the cool tile beside him to steady himself, and almost overbalanced as it slipped in a puddle.

Phil caught him in under one arm, eyes wide.

And so, for some strange reason that Dan couldn’t quite comprehend, but which filled his heart with warmth and hope nonetheless, Phil sat there on the edge of the roof with him for the rest of the night as Dan told him all about his pitiful life and shortcomings and failings, and then Phil told Dan about his dreams and aspirations, and Dan slowly started to unfurl, telling Phil more and more about himself, until he finally reached the point where he felt the boy knew him better than anyone else ever had.

And when they sat there in silence to watch the sun rise, Dan put his head on Phil’s lap not because he was cold, but simply because he wanted to listen to the slow beat of his heart, and melt into the soft comfort of his enveloping arms.

6. headphone sharing - masterpost


piratesails  asked:

cs + 2 (I'm going to make you write so much fluff megan I'm not even sorry)

Amy, what have you done?

childhood best friends au

In kindergarten, he pulls her pigtails and she pushes him in line to get back at him. She thinks boys are icky and he thinks girls have cooties, but sometimes they share crayons, but only because their teacher tells them to.

In first grade, when Neal kicks her in the shins and makes her bleed, he gets angry and yells at him, goes to tell their teacher, and helps her to the nurses office. They both get stickers and he gives her his. Hello Kitty is cute, but not for a boy like him, anyway.

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(BBC) Robin Hood Season 1 Starters
  • Shh! Quiet.
  • We have won, and they should be ashamed
  • I shouldn't have said that.
  • When we get home, I'm going to eat roast beef.
  • I am going to cry. I'm going to cry like a baby.
  • In fact, I can feel a song coming on.
  • You know, it is lucky I do not readily take offense! You know, a smaller man would be offended! A smaller man would be wounded!
  • I love you. Have I ever said that?
  • I said no stopping! Why do you never ever listen?!
  • I'm not saying anything.
  • That man is a showoff. If there are no eggs left, I'm going after him.
  • How are you? I thought of you.
  • Don't worry, I can look after myself.
  • I don't care about you, I care about my father.
  • Are you really as naive as you seem?
  • You think you can pick fights with these people and get away with it? You think you can slight them in public?
  • You are a fool.
  • What is your crime?
  • It's more than we ever managed before.
  • Pardoning them? I will see them hang in the morning. You yourself said that we risk rebellion. We must have order.
  • These are not holy men. These people cannot plead the cloth. Get on with it.
  • I came last night to administer their last rites.
  • Will you tolerate this injustice? I, for one, will not!
  • Everything is a choice, everything we do! Grow up.
  • This...is a rescue!
  • You cannot go back in there. If you go back in and die, then I will die. Of grief. So you must come now, if only to save me.
  • It will be dangerous.
  • You still love him?
  • You cannot give yourself up every five minutes!
  • Is it all just a big joke to you?!
  • Is it all so serious to you?!
  • Nothing like a tragedy to bring out the do-gooders.
  • Women, how can they manage to hit that particular pitch that makes you want to pierce your eardrum with a stick?
  • I thought you were gonna slit me throat!
  • Underneath all that haughty, there's quite a bit of naughty!
  • We're going to give these a good horse whipping.
  • The thing is, I woke up and we'd both been robbed! And rather than wake you, I went off to catch the thieves myself. I chased them for days!
  • He couldn't tell the truth if his life depended on it.
  • Are you hurt?
  • Let them hang.
  • My brother's had more chances than he deserves.
  • Do you know the worst crime a man can commit?
  • Marry me. It is the only way. As Lady/Sir ___, I could protect you. What do you say?
  • You leave me no time to think. A moment ago you were going to hang me and now you want to marry me.
  • Is it so difficult to prove your loyalty?
  • So what about me? Will you...marry...me?
  • I will marry you
  • I have an apology to make
  • You seem to be short of friends
  • No! Stop! This is wrong. I can't take part in this. You will regret this. You will see sense and you will regret it.
  • They'll be so disappointed to know that underneath your fine words, you're just as violent as the next man
  • And look at you now, you're just a common outlaw. House and lands lost. Do you think I don't laugh every time I sleep in your bed?
  • Surely, you would have friends elsewhere that would take you in.
  • I thought you'd given up a long time ago. But, you still carry a torch for her, don't you?
  • Maybe in future, you'll think twice before painting your arm like a girl!
  • He can tell us all we need to know about the outlaws.
  • All right. So hang him, then. Make an example.
  • Life is a cruel mistress. Clean up your mess.
  • Some men find pleasure in giving women gifts.
  • I hate the cave.
  • It's dark and it's, you know, horrible.
  • My father treated the wounded on the battlefield. He said never lie to a wounded man.
  • You are not going to die and I have never lied to you.
  • This is not the time to argue.
  • Do not tell me when it is time to argue!
  • I say you are a fool when I mean you are a hero.
  • I love you, you love me, we all love each other. Drink the wine.
  • What do girls eat, anyway?
  • Bored now. Kill them!
  • I think we're gonna die.
  • Why didn't you tell me?
  • Your father will be safe; I have made provisions for him. You see, as my father-in-law he is protected. As my father-in-law.
  • You are cruel!
  • I have moral grounds! This man is a liar and a traitor and her heart belongs to another! Let her tell you that.
  • I am sorry but you are wrong. I know you mean well, but my heart lies here.
  • Get him out of here!
  • Do you take this man and this horse as your route out of here?
Corner Hooked

Tumblr freaking ate my first attempt at posting this, and I know there was something I edited between creating the draft and posting, but cannot remember what it was for the life of me. Aggravating. Anyhow, I’m still not happy with it, but need to stop obsessing and move on.

Break (Part 1), Air Ball (Part 2), Double Hit (Part 3), Scratch (Part 4)

RATED E: For excessive smut and language. Lots of F-bombs! Ye’ve been warned…Part 5 below the cut

She’s lost track of the plot, and really, she doesn’t care. Her laptop sits perched on Peeta’s outstretched legs. They’re curled up on her bed, propped up on pillows with one of his arms wrapped around her. Katniss burrows closer into his side as his fingers lace and unlace themselves with hers. She’s spent the past twenty minutes or perhaps longer paying more attention to the miniscule details about him than she has to the movie.

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anonymous asked:

Free to be me is awesome! you've got to continue. Cos I'm hooked :)

You asked for it, Sunglasses.


'It wasn’t a question, dumbass.’

'Well that’s a reply for you in anyway.’ Steve replied, ignoring his sister’s incessant requests.

'Do you want me to tell mom what you were actually doing last Saturday night?’ Gail said in a sing-song voice. Damn, she was saving that one for something important. Well, this was important.

Steve narrowed his eyes at her. She must be bluffing.

’ I heard that you almost got caught at the bar with all those fake -’ Gail continued, knowing her brother would have to surrender now.

'What. Do you want.’ Steve muttered through his teeth. He was going to have to be more discreet the next time.

Gail smiled. Now, this was going somewhere.


Gail spotted the brunette at the top of the benches in the grounds. She never understood what the brunette did there for so long, every evening of the week. She did spend most of her time reading and Gail wondered why she just didn’t go to the library instead.

Of course Holly didn’t text her. And Gail didn’t really know what to make of that. It had been 2 weeks since she slipped her number into Holly’s locker, and the brunette hadn’t done anything at all. Gail was miserable. This woman wasn’t going to go easy on her, and she going to have to was pull out all her best tricks.

Gail had tried her best to not spy on her, but it was hard. Especially today. She expected the brunette to be swamped with hoards of people today, but it was just like any other day. Holly just went about her day as usual. And that really fascinated Gail. A lot.

She took a deep breath before walking to the bleachers. She knew she was going to have to play it cool. One last check of her satchel, she made sure her leather jacket was alright and her hair wasn’t a mess and she was good to go.

'Nerd!’ she called out with wave, climbing up to the top of the benches. She saw the brunette rolling her eyes at her, but that wasn’t going to stop her. Nope. Not today.

'If it isn’t 'Smoking’ hot.’

Gail took a seat next to the brunette, not caring what she thought of it.

'If you must know, I am on chocolate now.’

Holly laughed at that, ‘Chocolate’s better for the lungs.’

Gail nodded at the book, ‘You would know that, Holly.’ emphasizing on the name.

Holly eyed her with confusion, trying to remember if she ever told this annoying blonde her name.

'How did -’

'Text book, Nerd, Text book.’

Holly looked down and realized she had written her name on the cover of her textbook. Points to the blonde.

'Are you spying on me?’

Gail scoffed at that, she would have dearly loved to know more about Holly, if only she could. Her brother had told her only 2 things, and as hard as Gail tried, she could only pick up a few notes on the brunette.

'No Sherlock, saw it the other day at the coffee shop.’

Holly nodded hearing that. Clearly she had underestimated this blonde. Now she had to beg the blonde to get her name. Drat.

'And since I’m on chocolate now, why don’t I get my daily fix?’ Gail continued, carefully pulling out a little box out of her satchel, hoping nothing was too badly squished. It was a box of chocolate donuts, which surprisingly had only 2 . Gail took one and offered one to the brunette, who eyed her with suspicion.

'They’re not laced with nicotine - or sleeping powder, Scouts honor!’ Gail promised, thinking that perhaps she hadn’t thought through this plan enough.

'I was just wondering who buys 2 donuts instead of a dozen or two.’ Holly replied with a smile. Gail internally groaned at that. That had been the original plan, but she didn’t have much money left over after her big purchase.

'Just take Nerd, it won’t kill you.’ Gail insisted, and heaved a sigh of relief as the brunette took the donut. Atleast something went to plan.

Holly took a bite of her donut, and suddenly laughed.

'How am I Sherlock?’

Gail looked back at Holly with a mouthful of donut, an eyebrow raised at the brunette. Ok maybe the brunette wasn’t right in the head.

'You got my name off the book. That makes you Sherlock.’

'And yet, you’re the nerd.’ Gail finished taking another huge bite of her donut, which seemed to help calm her nerves.Holly grinned at that and took another bite of her donut as well. This wasn’t as bad as she expected it to be. Atleast she wasn’t fainting yet.

'When’s your birthday?’ Gail blurted out, swallowing the last of her donut, as innocently and laid-back as she could manage.Holly looked at Gail in surprise; it seemed like such a random yet eerily planned query.

'If you must know, it’s today.’ Holly replied as casually as she could, though she couldn’t help smiling a little. She wasn’t big on birthdays, not one for huge parties and get-togethers. She just loved having a day as blissful as anyother. Fact was not many people knew it was her birthday, and Holly wasn’t one for advertising the fact.

'Wow, Nerd, a happy birthday I guess.’ Gail replied with a happy smile on her face. Gail had thought the brunette would have been as elusive as ever and she was glad she finally got a reply from her that wasn’t a comment to hit back at her snark.

'Thanks, Sherlock.’ Holly laughed, finishing her donut and gearing up to leave home. After all it was quite late in the evening.

'And thanks for the donut, but I’ve really got to get home.’ Holly started, packing up her books in her bagpack. Gail hadn’t thought of that in her plan, however. Next time I’m getting a party planner.

'Well I’ll walk you home.’ Gail blurted out again, desperately racking her brains to think of someway to complete the plan.

'To spy on me?’

Gail rolled her eyes at that. Damn this woman was really such a paranoid person.

'See Nerd, spying on you would be me calling up the Security Council and getting your number and your address.’

Holly chuckled at that. ‘So, thank you for not spying on me, but I think I can get home just fine.’ getting up and walking down the benches. Gail grabbed her satchel and climbed down behind the brunette. Elusive mode back on again I suppose.

'Come on Nerd, no one should walk home alone on their birthday.’

Holly smiled at that. Maybe she was going too hard on this blonde. After all, she had given her a donut. And had wished her a happy birthday, inspite of the death-wish she had given her a few weeks back. She waited till the blonde was at the bottom of the bleachers, and the two began walking to the brunette’s home.

'Dare I ask why you were smoking that day. Or attempting to smoke?’ Holly began, slowly walking with this blonde. Damn it’s too weird to ask for names now.

Gail groaned. She wasn’t exactly comfortable about her little escapade that day.

'I was trying to piss off my mom.’ Gail replied in a flat tone.

'And giving yourself cancer would do that how exactly?’ Holly shot back, wondering if this blonde did actually have any sense of self-care.

'I don’t know! Seemed a cool idea to begin with. Which reminds me - what do you suggest I do to piss off my mom?’

'Why are you so intent on annoying your mother!?’ Holly wondered out loud.

'She so badly wants me to be the model kid. Just as she’s the model police-officer.’ Gail replied, recalling all the times her mother brought up the 'police officer’ talk.

'Police Officer? You’re Steven Peck’s sister aren’t you!’ Holly gasped in surprise, it all made sense now. The siblings were notorious for their ideals of rebellion.

'Look who’s Sherlock now.’ Gail replied with a bitter smile. 'So, what do you suggest I do then?’ she continued, hoping to take the conversation back to the list of things she could do to irritate her mother.

'What exactly did you have in mind?’ Holly asked, not exactly aware of the lengths this blonde was willing to go for revenge.

'I was thinking of flunking science - ’ Holly stopped in her tracks to glare at her.


The glare was still on her face, not a hint of a smile there.

'I guess talking to a nerd about flunking school isn’t appropriate.’

'Nope.’ Holly replied, starting to walk home. 'What else you got?’

Gail sighed, she was running out of options of which Holly would approve.

'Last resort was dyeing my hair black.’ Gail sighed, sure that Holly would start on a sermon about all the chemicals in the dyes and so on.

'But I like you blonde.’ Holly replied with a soft smile, stopping outside her house, putting an end to their evening stroll.

Gail had been so surprised at that answer, she almost didn’t realize she had reached Holly’s house. Holly smiled and left the blonde who was staring at her she walked up to the front porch. For some reason, she loved leaving the blonde hanging on her last words as she did.

'Bye.’ she called as she walked up to the front door. Before she could press the bell however, Gail had already rushed to the porch as was standing next to her.

'What do you think you’re doing?’ Holly whispered, afraid her parents might hear them. They wouldn’t exactly mind, but she was sure she wouldn’t be able to bear all their prodding questions.

'I just wanted to wish you a happy birthday again,’ Gail whispered back, following Holly’s suit. 'And give you this.’ Gail fished out a book which was gift wrapped and Holly stared at the blonde in disbelief.

I don’t know if you’d like it and I certainly didn’t want to see your face as you opened it so here,’ Gail finished, thrusting the gift in Holly’s hands and sprinted off into the night. Holly for once, was tongue tied and stared the tag on the present.

'Happy Birthday Holly, From Gail.’ it read. Holly smiled at that. Got her name now.

Taking her present to the privacy of her bed room, she tore off the cover - wondering what on Earth could Gail have gotten her.  She certainly hadn’t expected this.

 A hard back copy of Grant’s Dissector.


Gail rushed home as quickly as she could, hoping to shake off her nerves in the mad dash. When she got home, she noticed the message on her phone and heaved a huge sigh of relief.

'Loved the book Gail.- Holly.’

Gail felt like she could have done a victory dance.She had managed the brunette’s number. At last.

anonymous asked:

prompt: ian and mickey with a daughter

//so yeah this is really long but yeah here you go!//


‘What do you think it is?’

Ian looked away from the sonogram for a moment and considered Mickey’s question. ‘How am I supposed to know? Not as if I’m the one carrying it,’ he said.

Mickey rolled his eyes. ‘Fine, fine. What do you want it to be?’

'Can’t exactly answer that either. Another Carl or another Debbie…neither exactly sounds appealing. I love them, but…you know what I mean.’

'Yeah. I don’t really want a mini Mandy running around either,’ Mickey said, smiling at Ian. They were both quiet for a moment, returning their attention to the sonogram. Six weeks already. 'You know it’s going to be nothing like our siblings, right?’ he asked seriously.

'I know. And we’re going to be nothing like our fathers,’ Ian said, clasping Mickey’s hand meaningfully. He was talking mainly about Terry. Frank was a liar and a drunk, sure, but compared to Terry, he was practically a saint.

'I hope it’s a boy,’ Mickey said suddenly.


'Yeah. If we have a girl, she’ll be bringing boys home to fuck every five minutes. And I’d have to be protective and shit, put them in their places, scare them off. Dad stuff,’ Mickey explained. Ian burst out laughing.

'Are you planning on parenting like you’re in a nineties sitcom?’ he joked. 'She’ll just fuck them somewhere else, Mick. God knows we did it in some weird places,’ he reminded him.

'If it’s a girl, I won’t know the first thing to say,’ Mickey said quietly. Now Ian saw through his facade. He was insecure. 'I don’t know anything about girls, and neither do you because we’re both guys, and we’re both gay so it’s not like we know about women from fucking them like straight dads do,’ he said all in a rush.

'Well you used to -’

'Shut the fuck up, Ian, I’m serious,’ Mickey cut him off.

'Sorry. I was trying to lighten the mood. I shouldn’t have bought that up,’ he told Mickey apologetically.

'It’s fine. But don’t you agree?’

'No. Sure we’re maybe better equipped to deal with a son, but just because we’re not women and we’re not into women doesn’t mean we’re incapable of having a daughter. Ok? Don’t ever feel like you’re not enough. Don’t ever feel like you’re incapable of doing something because of who you are. If anything, everything we’ve been through is just going to make us better parents.’ Ian told him, kissing him firmly. 'There’s no-one else I would rather have a kid with.’

Mickey smiled a little. He still found it hard to do that, even after all this time. Show emotions that weren’t anger. Feel happiness. He had to let himself, it never came naturally.

Mickey slid into Ian’s shoulder and looked back at the sonogram. They were quiet, and he just listened to Ian’s heartbeat and felt Ian’s hands gently running through his dark hair. ‘Ian?’


'Do you know anything about periods and shit?’

Ian chuckled. ‘Well one time we shoved a tampon up Lip’s nose to stop it bleeding,’ he told him, grinning. Mickey looked at him, eyebrows raised. ‘Look, we’ll just figure it out if and when it happens. Yeah?’



'Shit shit shit,’ Mickey muttered, pacing the hospital corridor for the umpteenth time.

'You need to calm down man,’ Lip said from behind, taking him by the shoulders and steering him to the seats by the wall.

'Why won’t they let me in?’

'State laws, hospital protocols, cunt doctors. I’m sure you’re familiar,’ Lip said, causing a pair of passing nurses to flinch nervously.

'I’m the fucking dad too.’ Mickey whispered.

'Yes you are,’ Lip stated in agreement. 'I know that and Ian knows that. And the kid’s going to know it too,’ he told him.

Mickey looked at him, his eyes heavy with tears that Lip knew he was too proud to cry. ‘After everything…after getting shot, getting raped, getting the shit beat out of me…this is the worst. This shit is regulated, I can’t control it, I can’t do anything. I’m missing the birth of my child,’ he trailed off.

'You know I’ve never been worried about you and Ian?’

'What are you talking about? The fuck does that have to do with anything?’

'Never. Because with you two, the stakes have always been higher. You’ve always had to go through more and be more for each other. Maybe you more than him. When he told me you two were fucking, I was surprised, sure. But I wasn’t worried. When he told me he was fucking Kash - well, when I figured it out - I was worried, I was pissed. But with you? I knew from that first moment that you must really give a damn if you were risking it all to be with him. And time went on and you stayed together - for the most part - and I barely even thought about it anymore. If I was put through even half the shit you’ve been through, Mickey, I’d have given up. But you never did, did you? You destroyed yourself, you kissed him with a broken face, you searched for him, you literally carried him. When he got diagnosed, you were there with him and you’ve never left his side since. What I’m trying to say here is that I wasn’t worried when he was sixteen and I’m not worried now. You will be able to get through this because I don’t think there’s anything this world could throw at you that you couldn’t handle. You’re Mickey fucking Milkovich.’

Mickey hugged Lip on instinct, before he could stop himself. ‘Thanks,’ he said gruffly, masking tears. ‘And I’m sorry I beat you up that one time,’ he added.

Lip laughed. ‘Shit, I’d forgotten about that,’ he remarked, breaking off the hug and clapping Mickey on the shoulder. ‘Ian?’ he called out, seeing his brother at the other end of the hall. Mickey was on his feet in a second.

'What’s happening? Is everything ok? Has it popped out yet? Boy? Girl? Ian why aren’t you saying anything? Shit did we lose it? Shit we did, didn’t we? Ian talk to me!’ Mickey spluttered frantically.

Ian was smiling, smiling so wide and with so much love. ‘No. No Mick, we didn’t lose her,’ he told him gently.

'Her?’ Mickey gasped.

Ian nodded. ‘You’re going to have to learn about periods,’ he said, right before kissing Mickey with possibly more passion than ever before.

'What’s she like?’

'She’s amazing. Come and meet her,’ he grabbed Mickey’s hand and led him inside, casting a glance back at Lip and silently thanking him for being there, for waiting with Mickey. Lip grinned back.


'I love you but shut up,’ Mickey said to the howling baby in his arms.

'Mick, don’t tell our daughter to shut up,’ Ian said in mock disapproval, smiling at them. They were side by side in bed, Mickey holding Rose.

'Our daughter,’ Mickey echoed.

They’d lost count of how many nights had been like this. Just laying there at 2am in the dark, half wishing they were sleeping and half wishing to never leave that moment. It didn’t matter that Rose was crying, that Ian had baby vomit on his arm or that Mickey had a headache. They’d honestly never felt closer. And the love they had for that tiny six month old bundle that Mickey clutched in his arms was a love neither had been prepared to feel and neither could understand yet.

Ian turned on his side and placed his hand on Mickey’s arm. ‘I love you so much,’ he told him. Mickey looked at him, the corners of his mouth twitching.

'I love you Ian,’ he returned after a pause. It still took him a moment sometimes. Ian knew why and he didn’t mind.


'Rose, why have we been called in today?’ Ian asked his daughter.

'I don’t know Daddy,’ she said truthfully.

'What have you done? You hit someone? You mouth off?’ Mickey fired the questions at her.

'I don’t think so,’ their six year old replied.

'How can you not know? Has your fist been in someone’s face or not?’ Mickey demanded.

Ian took his hand to calm him down. ‘Rose, whatever it is, we won’t be mad. You can tell us anything. We’ll work through it, as a family,’ he told her. Mickey made an odd sound from next to him. ‘You ok?’ he murmured. Mickey nodded, not looking at him.

She thought for a moment. ‘I really can’t think what I’ve done, I promise,’ she told Ian, her eyes wide with worry.

'Ah, you must be Rose’s parents?’ came a cheerful voice from behind them.

'Yes. I’m Ian,’ he said, extending his hand, smiling brightly. He knew they had to get off on the right foot before facing whatever it was that Rose had done.

'Mickey,’ he said, also shaking the woman’s hand.

'Pleasure. I’m Miss Cooper, Rose’s teacher,’ she introduced herself, 'thank you for taking the time to come here today,’ she said, sitting behind her desk.

'Of course, it’s no trouble,’ Mickey said carefully, trying not to curse.

'Well let’s get right to it, shall we? Rose is doing so well. I’m thrilled with the progress she’s been making,’ she told them. Ian and Mickey were stunned.

'She’s not in trouble?’ Ian asked uncertainly.

'Of course not! Gosh is that what you thought this was? No, not at all!’ the teacher reassured them.

Rose was grinning up at her fathers, triumphant.

'Here is a story she wrote, it’s just wonderful…and they’ve been building robots in art class, hers is that purple one on the table behind you. And these are her workbooks - almost perfect scores in math quizzes and spelling tests. And Rose, tell your dads what you did in history yesterday!’

'I recited all the Presidents, in order,’ she said proudly.

'You make them learn that?’ Ian asked incredulously.

'No, not when they’re six! She just knew. Must have learned it of her own free will,’ Miss Cooper explained, smiling at Rose.

Ian read what his daughter had written, carefully and neatly in soft pencil, telling the story six children living in a house with no parents. On the last page she’d drawn them. A tall girl in shorts with messy dark hair, two boys of equal height, one in jeans, the other with a solid crayoned block of orange hair, a girl with a ponytail and red lipstick, a boy with no hair holding a baseball bat, and on the floor at the end was a toddler wearing a nappy. His fingers traced the red haired figure. He looked at her, a lump in his throat. ‘This is great,’ he told her softly. Rose smiled and silently pointed to the corner of the page. She’d drawn a little house with one window. A girl with a nose ring and pink streaked hair was what first caught his eye. Next to her was a shorter figure, a boy with a shock of black hair in a tank top. They were staring longingly at the big family above them. Ian felt his eyes tearing up and then he just hugged his little girl as hard as he could. ‘I love you,’ he told her.

'Ok,’ she said. The adults all laughed.


'Did you hear that?’ Mickey said, putting down his coffee mug.

'Hear what?’ Ian asked. Another scream.

'That,’ Mickey told him.

'Shit,’ said Ian, running upstairs, Mickey behind. 'Rose? What happened?’

The bathroom door unlocked and Rose came out, still in her pyjamas. She looked pretty shaken. ‘Um. Nothing,’ she said, averting her eyes.

'You were screaming. I thought you were six weeks old again, never mind sixteen,’ Ian said her. He still couldn’t believe how long it had been.

'I said it’s nothing. Please let me go to my room. Please,’ she said quietly.

'Fine. Go. You can tell us whenever you’re ready?’ Mickey called after her. She shook her head and shuffled off. He turned to Ian. 'You think she’s pregnant?’ he whispered. Ian hadn’t even thought of that. But Mickey had grown up with Mandy. He shrugged, glancing after his daughter. Then he saw. He nudged Mickey. There was blood streaked on her pyjamas. As soon as she was in her room, Mickey groaned, looking terrified. This had been his worst fear sixteen years ago and it still lingered.

'Ian I can’t. What the fuck do we do? I don’t - what are you doing?’ Ian was going into their bedroom and opening the closet.

'Fiona gave me these back when Rose was thirteen or so. I put them away and forgot about them…I figured she had to have started by now, you know? Just figured it out on her own and not told us. We should’ve done something. How could we have been so fucking careless?’

'We kept putting it off. And I think we were in denial that she was growing up. But yeah. We should've…I don’t know, something.’

'I’m doing something now,’ Ian said, heading towards Rose’s bedroom. He knocked. 'Can I come in? You decent?’ he asked gently. Mickey was trying to pull him away furiously. 'We can’t avoid this anymore Mick,’ Ian told him as they entered. She was sitting on her bed, laptop open. Ian gently closed the lid and sat beside her. But before he could say anything, Mickey began.

'Rose. What’s happening is totally normal. It happens every month. You can use these, they’re called tampons, or there’s towels. If these aren’t right, here’s twenty dollars, you can buy whichever kind you need. I’m sorry we didn’t talk about this sooner. We love you,’ he said, speaking very quickly to a stunned Rose, and then got up to leave.

'Oh my god! Oh my god, no!’ Rose shrieked from the bed. 'That’s not why - you guys thought - oh my god!’ she said, laughing uncontrollably.

'Your - pyjamas,’ Mickey said, confused and awkward. She blushed.

'Shit, sorry,’ she muttered. Her turn to be embarrassed. 'I was screaming because…I can’t say,’ she told them.

'Rose, are you pregnant?’ Ian asked her, automatically returning to their earlier assumption. She laughed.

'Seriously?’ she asked, gesturing to the boxes of tampons. Ian sighed at his stupidity. 'Besides, I’m seeing a girl right now,’ she said casually.

Her fathers stared at each other.

'Why didn’t you tell us before?’ Ian asked.

'I wasn’t sure. I’m still not,’ she explained. She shrugged. 'It was a…surprise, when it all happened. I like her a lot. I don’t know if it’s just her or if it’s girls. I like guys a lot too. I’m trying not to get too caught up in it,’ she told them.

Mickey stared at his daughter. This girl who reminded him of himself in so many ways. But she had accepted herself and she was more certain of her heart at sixteen than he had been back then, and later. And she had better parents than him. He’d prove it, he knew, as he went to hold her.

'I’m so proud of you,’ he said.

Rose hugged her father back. She knew his life had not been easy, but she didn’t know the full story. There were questions she’d asked over the years that had been met with awkward attempts to shy away from the truth until eventually she’d just stopped asking. She knew they were both covered in scars. She knew she only had one set of grandparents. The picture she had in her head of her parents’ lives was in bits and pieces. Maybe one day they’d tell her everything, maybe they wouldn’t. Ultimately she didn’t care. She knew they loved her, she knew they did. Nothing was ever faked in their house and nothing was ever hidden. Well. She was going to hide their surprise anniversary party that Lip had just told her about on the phone. But nothing else.

'Is something burning?’ she asked after a moment.

'The pancakes!’ Mickey exclaimed, bounding out of the bedroom and thundering down the stairs to save their breakfast.

Ian laughed. ‘Breakfast foods,’ he said simply. ‘Are you ok?’ he asked her seriously.

'Yeah. I’m good,’ she told her father, smiling.

He ruffled her hair. ‘It really is ok, you know? To be confused, I mean. You have the right parents for it,’ he said, smiling. She nodded. Ian kissed the top of her head and turned to leave.

'I really love you guys a lot, ok?’ she called out. Ian smiled. She didn’t say it often. She was like Mickey that way.

He nodded. ‘I know. Love you too,’ he said, closing the door.

'Thanks for the twenty bucks!’ she yelled as he walked downstairs. Ian grinned to himself as he entered the kitchen to see Mickey scraping black discs from the hot plate.

'Gonna have to start a new batch,’ he said.

Ian went up behind him and snaked his hands around his waist, kissing his neck. ‘I know it wasn’t needed, but what you said up there was amazing.’

Mickey leaned into his touch. ‘It felt really…parent-y, you know? I never - I never thought I’d get to have that,’ he murmured.

'I can’t believe the boy who wouldn’t let me kiss him twenty years ago is still with me now,’ Ian said. 'Hell, has a kid with me.’

'Not so much of a kid anymore though, is she,’ Mickey said. 'And I still can’t believe I ever stopped myself from doing this,’ he turned around and kissed Ian. They were familiar with each others lips now, but their hearts still jolted like they did when they shared their first kiss in that driver’s seat.

'I love you, Gallagher’ Mickey told him. Ian smiled. No hesitation now.


//The end.//

  • Luke: It was hard to tell whether it was you or Luke who was the most nervous about it while you made out on his bed, him on top of you. Obvious were the reasons why you were afraid, and yet, Luke was shaking just as much as you. Taking someone's virginity had a way bigger weight than most people would imagine. Especially someone loved. Especially when that someone was you. "Are you sure?", he asked when you broke the kiss to take his shirt off, looking down at you. "Yes", you replied the same answer yet again, taking yours off too, "Luke, I'm one hundred percent sure", you smiled, tracing your fingers from his shoulders down to his abs, seeing how tense he was. "I'm just afraid to hurt you", he sighed, leaving his spot on top of you and sitting next to where you were laying on the bed. "I know you would never hurt me deliberately", you assure him, moving to sit next to him and pressing kisses from his cheek to his neck. "But girls want their first time to be with someone special, right?", he questioned, placing light kisses all over your face. "Yeah, and you're my someone special", you stated the obvious. "Oh, I am, aren't I?", he joked, sighing and pretending to be annoyed. "Shut up, Hemmings", you hit him lightly on the shoulder. "Make me", he bit his lip. You rolled your eyes, leaning in to kiss him, straddling him and returning to where you were. Both of you were completely sure.
  • Ashton: You and Ashton had been together for quite a few months now and, more than once, you had already asked him to slow down, 'cause you didn't want to go there quite yet. You couldn't complain, 'cause he stopped every time and was waiting for you to announce it was time. And, let's face it, every hormonal boy wants it. You tried not to feel pressured to do it before you felt ready, telling yourself that you'd know when you were ready when the time would come. And now you knew. As you watched him talking to fans at the front of the hotel, laughing, taking pictures with them, having a conversation with every single one. You stood in your spot a little further from the fans and saw as a fan asked him something, he looked over to where you were, smiling and pointing to you. You simply waved and smiled as he returned to his conversation, and that was when you knew. You looked at him and knew he was the special one you wanted to lose your virginity with, he was the one you wanted to let hold you in his arms when you were the most fragile. "All done", he smiled, walking over to where you were and taking your hand. Instead of replying, you wrapped your arms around his neck and kissed him deeply and passionately. It didn't take him long to wrap his arms around your waist, deepening the kiss. "I wanna do it. Today", you smiled, biting your lip. "Are you serious?", he asked, tightening his grip on your waist. "Yes", you nodded your head. He enveloped you in a hug, lifting you off the ground and spinning you around. "Let's go then", he giggled, taking your hand and running back to the hotel with you.
  • Michael: You were visiting the boys on tour as a surprise for Michael, since you've been with him for a good while now. And in that good while, you've never got quite to the point where you'd go all the way. You were never sure if it was the right moment, and sometimes you even doubted it was the right person. But now, after all the time away from him, you were more than one hundred percent sure he was the right person. And he had to know it too. "So, Michael, we have a surprise for you", the interviewer announced and your heart felt like it was going to explode. "For me?", he questioned, raising an eyebrow. "Yes, we flew someone here to see you". "You didn't", he smiled widely, your name being the first thing to come to his mind. "Yes we did", the interviewer smiled, "And here she is". You stepped into the small stage and Michael instantly stood up, turning around and running towards you, enveloping you in his arms. He lifted you off the ground, spinning you around, your head buried on his chest. "I missed you so much", he whispered in your ear, putting you down. "I missed you too", you whispered back so only you and him could hear it, "And I'm ready". "Ready?", he asked confused in a hushed tone. "To do it", you explained in his ear. His eyes widened just as much as his smile and he pressed his lips on yours: "I love you".
  • Calum: "Calum, you're not a virgin, right?", you ask your friend Calum, sitting down in his bed. "That's what your 'I need to talk to you urgently' text was about?", he laughed, sitting down next to you. "Yes", you rolled your eyes, "Now answer". "No, I'm not a virgin, (Y/N)". "And have you ever taken a girl's virginity?", you asked cautiously. "Well, not really... Why?", he asked, confused. "Would you like too?". "Well, it depends on the girl, I guess", he shrugged, "(Y/N)... What's all this about?". "Well, I don't want to keep waiting for a prince to lose my virginity... And you're my best friend and the person that I trust the most in... So I was wondering if you'd take my virginity?", you felt your cheek redden and looked down, avoiding his eyes. "What?", he abruptly asked, standing up. "I mean, I don't think I want to lose something special with someone who will probably break my heart and we're just friends, you know?", you mumbled, eyes still down. You felt the weight shift on the bed: "Are you sure you want to do this? Have you thought this over?", he asked, lifting your cheek so you'd look at him. "Yes", you answered, "I've stayed up all night last night thinking this through". He laughed: "That's so you". "Thank you?", you giggled. "Well...", he began. "Are your parents home?", you asked, once he started to lean in. "No", he answered, looking at your lips and leaning in a little more. "When will they arrive?", you leaned back a little bit, tensing up. "They're travelling, (Y/N). Relax", and you did as he told, letting your best friend's lips touch yours, kissing him back. It turns out Calum was the special person you were waiting for - you both just didn't know it yet.

(This is my first smut so sorry if it’s sucky!)

-Y/N and Nash have been best friends since they where little kids. They’ve always been just friends, and nothing else.

Or at least that was until Y/N had a certain dream about her and Nash-

Y/N= your name Y/F/N= your friends name

Y/N/N= your nick name

“Come on! I told you who mine was about!” Y/F/N whined as you two walked down the school hallway to math. “But it’s so awkward!” You argued. “Please! I don’t judge Y/N/N!” You sighed in defeat. “Fine. It was-uh- about Nash.” You mumbled. “NASH!” Y/F/N screamed. “SHH! I don’t want the whole school knowing I had a wet dream about my best friend!” You said in efforts to make her quiet. “Was it good.” She asked you smirking. “What? It was just a dream.” You laughed. “Yeah but dreams are things that you think about and want to happen in real life.” She pointed out. “I had a dream I got ate by a giant banana when I was younger. That doesn’t mean that I want to have a banana eat me.” You said smartly. As the two of you approached your class Y/F/N made one last comment. “You can’t deny it forever Y/N.” She wasn’t wrong. You have thought about it. But Nash was your friend and nothing more Besides he’d never feel the same way

Later that night you sat down on your bed blasting music as loud as possible. You’re parents where out on date night and since that usually meant they’d spend the night in a hotel, you could do whatever you wanted. As you scrolled threw your tumblr you heard a tap on your window. You walked over, still in your spandex and thin white tank top, and pulled your curtains open revealing Nash standing in his bedroom with the window open. “Hey Y/N!” Nash said climbing out his window and into yours which wasn’t more then 5 feet away. “Hey Hammy what’s up?” You asked knowing it pissed Nash off when you called him that. He glared at your for a minute before you both burst out laughing. “Soo, you won’t believe what Y/F/N told me today.” ’shit. Shit. Shit. Shit. Shit. Does he know!? Please say he doesn’t‘You thought. “Um-.. What?” You gulped. Nash walked closer to you until his body was touching yours. “I think you know Y/N/N.” Nash said staring down at you. “Ya know if you wanted me you could have just said so. I’d be down. All you need to say is that you want me as much as I want you” He said into your ear. Your heart raced a thousand miles. China could probably see you blushing. Then you did something that to this day you don’t regret. “Nash- I want you.” Just then you felt Nash’s lips smash onto yours. At first it was slow, as if he was unsure of my reaction, but then I felt his tongue at my lips asking for an entrance. I hesitated for a second before parting my lips and letting nash deepen the kiss. After a minute or so we basically had each other’s tongues down our throats. The he pulled away. “Hey!” I groaned. “Are you sure you want this. Once I start I won’t be able to stop.” Nash said, his eyes begging mine to say yes. I didn’t respond. I just smashed my lips back onto his. Nash seemed to take the hint because we ended up on my bed. “I’ve wanted you since I laid eyes on you.” Nash said pulling away only to smash his lips to mine again. “You do realize we met in kindergarten right.” I said removing my lips from his them placing them back on. He laughed a little and deepens the kiss again before sliding his hand up and down my shirt/ Then he, quite literally, ripped it off. “Hey! What if I liked that shirt.” I teased. “Too bad, it’s mine now.” Nash smirked. ’oh dear lord does this boy know what he does to me’ I thought still in trance about how sexy that sounded. He unhooked my bra and his eyes immediately locked on my chest. “Beautiful.” He whispered before he started kissing my nipples. “Ow!” I squeaked. He had bit one a little too hard. “I’m sorry! Should I stop?” Nash said worried. “No!” I said a little to loud, “uh-no.” I said again, this time with a lowered voice. I pulled Nash in for another kiss as his hands left my tangled hair and went to play with my boobs. I moaned a little and I didn’t have to open my eyes to see Nash was smirking with pleasure. He started to kiss lower down my body. “Wait!” I said sitting up. I grabbed a fistful of Nash’s shirt and pulled. Nope. Nothin. Not even a little tare. He chuckled “sorry babe.” Nash pulled his shirt off in one swift move. I started to kiss down his toned body, making sure to feel every muscle he had. Me moaned once my mouth stopped right about where his jeans fell. I confidently tugged on his jeans and he stood up pulling them down all the way and kicking them near my dresser. I couldn’t wait any longer. I pulled his boxers down and his 8.5 flew up and slapped his stomach. (Fun fact that’s Nash’s size in real life👍 #the more you know) I hesitated for a moment. This time he noticed. “Y/N you don’t have to if-” I cut him off my taking him fully in my mouth. I had never realized I could deep throat until now. I swirled my tongue around his tip, which left Nash a moaning mess. “Y/N- don’t. Stop. Oh my go-odd.” I could tell his was close so I pulled away from him. “Babe!” Nash whined: “Not yet.” I smirked. To be honest, I loved having this effect over Nash. He pulled down my black spandex all the way down to my ankles and threw then onto the floor. I suddenly felt the need to cover up. No! Y/N, you’re beautiful. Don’t hide.“ He smiled. I was well aware that he could probably tell how horny I was considering my panties where soaked. I felt his hand rap around the sides at he pulled them down. He placed a finger at my entrance. "No- nash.” I said looking him in the eye. “I cant wait any longer.” Nash smirked and positioned himself at my entrance. “You’re on the pill right?” I nodded and nash spoke again. “You trust me right?” “Yes.” I said. And it was true. I trusted nash with my life, there was no doubt in my mind that that wasn’t true. “Good.” He said before pushing my back down and tracing his tip at my entrance. “God dammit Nash stop being a fucking tease.” He didn’t hesitate as he slammed into me moaning my name. I wanted to cry but at the same time I didn’t want to, because knowing Nash he’d stop and make sure I was okay and god knows I didn’t want that boy to stop. The pained soon turned into pleasure as Nash started to thrust faster. “N-Nash.” I moaned. I had sex twice before, but that was a couple months ago, and both weren’t even close to how good nash was. “Y/N-” he moaned and that itself almost threw me over the edge. “I’m close.” I shouted. “Me too baby- me too.” I felt my peak as Nash shouted. “Come with me Y/N.” My walls started to close in as a released on him. Nash did another thrust before he threw his head back and releasing into me. He pulled out and laid down next to me. He pulled me closer into his arms. “I love you Y/N.” “I love you too Nash.” I said as everything turned black.

//hope you guys liked it! I’m starting to do imagines almost daily so if you want one about a certain boy or theme just go to my ask box and say •The boy you want one if •dirty, cute, ect •and if you want any theme then that too(: Thanks guys! Make sure to like and reblog for more\