i won last year

Wait, what?

(based on this) (look, there’s a part two)

Yuuri barely has time to grab his jacket when he runs out the door, much less brush his hair or find a hat. Unfortunately, he’s sure that that means that his hair is an absolute mess. It’s been getting long again, but in between classes and helping Yura out with his routine on the weekends, he hasn’t had much time for things like haircuts. Besides, Victor doesn’t seem to mind it, and Yura likes to experiment hairstyles on Yuuri “so that if it looks stupid, I don’t have to see it on myself.”

It’s not that big a deal, except on days like this, when he sleeps in (thanks a lot Vitya) and doesn’t have the time to really get it under control. He usually meets up with his friends before class, and he doesn’t doubt that they’ll notice, and probably tease him about it.

They notice.

“Yuuri!” Estephania gasps, sounding too scandalized for her words to be anything but teasing. “What on earth happened to your hair?”

Yuuri flushes. “I was running late,” he mumbles.

Richard snorts. “You sure? Because that looks more like sex hair to me, man.”

“Ooh, he’s right,” Estephania coos before Yuuri can protest.

He wonders if it’s possible to die of embarrassment (especially since they’re not entirely wrong). “No, really I–”

“We know, sweetie.” She reaches up and moves his hair around a bit, trying to make it look presentable. “You’re just too easy to tease.”

“You sure you’re really twenty seven?” Richard raises an eyebrow.

Yuuri just smiles at the ground in fond humiliation (apparently it’s not a common emotion, but it’s a little hard not to be used to the feeling when he’s married to the world’s biggest drama queen) and nods. “I am.”

His friends are too much sometimes, he admits. Richard is the embodiment of America in a lot of ways: loud, completely lacking a sense of social norms, a walking personification of testosterone. Estephania is less… everything… than Richard, but she’s very touchy and affectionate in an entirely platonic way that reminds Yuuri a lot of Christophe, only without all of the innuendo. But they’re both loyal down to their very core, and they’re not bad people.

His phone starts ringing, Stammi Vicino playing loudly. Yuuri picks up, keeping his phone away from Estephania’s hands. “Да, Vitya?”

“Dude! You speak Russian too?” Richard looks like Yuuri just smacked him in the face. The school year just started, so they’re all still learning about each other.

Yuuri just smiles, since Victor is in the middle of one of his usual mid-morning crises. “Vitya, calm down,” he says in Russian. “Makkachin is probably out with Yura. You know he takes her for walks sometimes. Have you seen him today?”

He manages to get Victor off the phone just before class starts, flipping his phone to airplane mode since he’s sure that this isn’t the last he’ll be hearing from his lovable trainwreck of a husband.

Keep reading


I’m warning you. Don’t touch me again… I get the wrong idea.

Fireworks - H.S.

“It’s beautiful, isn’t it?” I mumble. The twinkling lights are mesmerizing and I just can’t seem to focus on anyone else, not even the amazing man beside me that brought me here tonight. When Harry only hums a response, I take my gaze off the fireworks ahead of me and stare at his sharp jawline.

Lately Harry had been acting differently. At first I noticed little things, like him closing off and disappearing into his own head for short amounts of time, but after a while he started raising these walls around him, pretending to be someone who is not even though the real Harry I had met two years prior was something I wish everyone had in his life.

Of course, Harry did not only have a name to keep, but also a reputation. Yes, he was pictured as a womanizer and I think he did won best dressed male again last year, although I don’t keep up with that. I keep up with what actual Harry is up too, what ticks him, what he enjoys doing. Most of the things the media bring to attention aren’t very good small details of a bigger picture.

I think that’s why this friendship works so damn well. That might also be the absolute number one reason I fell madly in love with this man. I’d never risk anything to put our friendship in jeopardy, because I honestly believe I’d never find someone like him, ever again. He was the only real thing in a world filled with lies and misinterpretations.

I’m actually terrified I’ll never get to see the real Harry again. And whatever I try, I just can’t seem to get through to him. So when he appeared at my door, giant grin on his rosy lips and a bottle of expensive champagne held up in one hand, I couldn’t decline.

“Why are you staring at me like that?” Harry laughs, pulling his bottom lip between his pearly white teeth before his glance is cast in my direction. I can feel the rosy hue appear on my cheeks, but they’re transparent to Harry’s gaze due to the harsh lighting of the fireworks going off in front of us.

“This lighting is doing you good.” I decide to go with a true compliment, although that wasn’t initially on my mind. I love the smile that it draws on his lips, the way his eyes crinkle and how he then casts his glance away. “Do you say that to all men?”

“Only you.” I shrug my shoulders with a grin and let a shriek flow from my lips when I feel Harry’s elbow collide with my ribs. “Hey, I gave you a really nice compliment and this is how you repay me?”
“What do you want to hear? How beautiful you look? You always do, Y/n.” Harry huffs as he rolls his eyes and fixates his gaze back onto the sparkly lights disappearing as quickly as they appear.

“You’re one of the most kind-hearted people I know Harry, you deserve all of this success you’re receiving, you know that right?” I decide to bring up the new single, the one that’s supposed to come out in just a few hours – at midnight to be exact. He hadn’t mentioned it since I had heard it when he had initially finished it. It was his baby, his first solo record and he didn’t seem to utter another word about it. It had been months and it saddened me because it was so damn good.

“How is that new man of yours?” Harry’s voice changes tone, and when I decide to peek I see the frown that has set onto his eyebrow. I guess we’re still not talking about it, and I decide to drop it. Last time I had tried to initiate conversation we ended up not speaking to each other for almost two weeks. Which were the worst two weeks of my life, really. “That’s over and done with, didn’t I mention that?”

“Well no, you didn’t.” Harry sighs and I see the small smile tug at his lips. I scoot a little bit closer to Harry, although I’m not sure why. “Well, sorry then.”
“Why did you break up? I thought you liked him.” Harry throws his arm around my shoulder and I lay my head on his shoulder, taking in a deep breath as I focus back on the popping flashing of light.

“I never really did, I think.” I mumble, dropping my hand onto Harry’s knee and giving it a firm squeeze. “I’m searching for something else.” I finish off, feeling my heart throb in my throat. Indirectly, in my own head, I had confessed my love for Harry. He would never see it as such, but that didn’t take away any of the anxiety coursing through my body.

“Well it’s great that you know what you want.”

“Don’t you know what you want?”

“Yeah, but I’m sure she hasn’t even given it a thought. I think I’m nothing more to her than just a really good friend.”

“Who says that? Harry if you want this girl, go and get her. Do you even realize how amazing you are? You always put me up when I’m down. You watch the most horrifying movies with me whenever I want to, without any complaint. You once showed up at my door just because I sounded blue to you on the phone. I’m sure whatever girl you want is just as madly in love with you as you are with her.” I grin, squeezing his knee for emphasis as I let my eyes dart along the sky, trying to follow every firework going off.

“Do you know what sign of the times is about?” Harry suddenly questions and I feel myself stiffen in his embrace as he for the first time in weeks talks about his song or upcoming album.
“Well I interpreted it as hope.” I decide to voice my own thoughts and feelings as simply as possible.

“That’s the great part of it. I think – in whatever time of your life you are, it might – I don’t know – can be interpreted in whatever way it suits you.” Harry starts to stumble over his words as if he were nervous, his ring clad fingers toying with his jeans as he avoids my gaze as well as the sounds going on around us.

“So you’re saying I’m hoping for something?” I smile, somewhat feeling my own nerves bubbling in my stomach as I pull away from Harry, smiling brightly at his twinkling eyes.

“Yeah, you could say it like that. But I think we all hope something, right?” Harry grins right back at me and I slowly let my eyes close, nodding once, but firmly at his statement – or question.

“Hm.” I agree verbally, wanting to lay my head again against his shoulder but he stops me, his eyes searching mine tentatively as I keep frozen in my spot. I let a low breath slip past my opened lips, my tongue darting out to wet them before I suck my bottom lip into my mouth, slowly biting down on it.

Something seems to click in Harry’s mind and before I can completely comprehend what is happening or is about to happen, Harry leans in but hovers right before his lips are about to meet mine. He lets me decide if I want this – if I want to kiss him and as soon as my brain has caught up to current events, I lean the short distance and press my lips firmly against his.

Harry’s large hand cups my cheek and for a second I feel like I might burst out into tears of happiness, but instead I settle for a large grin which almost breaks up our kiss. I feel the vibrations of Harry’s chuckle against my lips as my eyelids flutter.

Harry pulls away, keeping his hand in place, as he seems to catch his breath. His lips press to mine once more in a gentle, simple peck right as the last few fireworks make their last pop in front of us, illuminating the dark night sky.


@huxloween 2017 day 01: Unsolved mysteries

I’m… certainly not the only one wondering why Kyle is almost always posing like that on the TLJ pics… right ? 
Anyway, first day of Huxloween, I won’t be as productive as last year (I’m just dying with work right now) but I’ll try to do a little thingy for each day… or every other day… 

fandomtrash0101  asked:

Don't want to sound rude but I think you only brought sans back to stop all the bitching

No actually the entire plot has been planned since last year and I won’t change it

I couldn’t care less about what people want me to do for this series

Jack- o-lanterns

Summary: Nico di Angelo is always forced into a pumpkin carving content by his long term boyfriend, Will. He is certain he will win for the first time this Halloween season, though as he will find, Will has him beat again.

It was Halloween season, the time of hot drinks, pretty leaves, and Halloween marathons.

Nico di Angelo was spending is chilly afternoon lounging sideways on his living room chair, a book in his hands. His chest bore a once-black sweater, now gray from age and wear. He picked mindlessly at loose strings as he flipped the page.

Just as he had began to doze off, Will Solace walked in behind his boyfriend, his arms full with the two biggest pumpkins Nico had ever seen.

They had been together for seven years, since they were in high school, and Nico had become quickly familiar of Will’s love of pumpkin carving. Every year Nico was forced into a pumpkin carving contest, and every year he lost.
Will set the pumpkins down on the wood floor with a thud and a groan. He stood up and stretched his back before turning on his heel out the door.

Nico sat up, he knew the drill, there was no way of getting out of the contest. He tried to fake being sick once, just so he didn’t have to lose for another year, and Will had brought him a pumpkin and knife to his bed on a breakfast tray. He rolled up the sleeves of his sweater and sighed with a smile.

Will returned with arms full with newspapers and assorted tools, he quickly made work spreading the sheets across the ground until there was a large blanket of paper in the middle of the room.

“You seem oddly chipper about the contest this year.” Nico observed. It was true, Will was always excited, but he seemed to be a tad bit faster with setup this year.

Will shrugged as he sat down on the ground, “I’m just excited, that’s all.”
Nico chucked as he sat across from Will, his legs folding in front of him. “You’re a dork, that’s what you are.”
Will rolled one of the pumpkins to Nico, its surface scraping against the ground. Mean while, Nico readied a large plastic bowl for emptying the pumpkins into.
After everything was set up, Will looked over to Nico, who was admiring his pumpkin.

“Hey, Neeks?”

“Yes?” Nico looked up.

“I love you.” Will said with a smile.

Nico responded, “hey, Will?”

“Yeah?” Will asked.

Nico smirked, “get ready to lose.”

And with that, Nico grabbed the closest cheap knife and plunged into his pumpkin. It’s two inch blade working furiously to cut off the top.

“No fair!” Will exclaimed, quickly setting into action.

After the excitement of the beginning had calmed down, the two men were enthralled in their own actions.

“What are you going to carve?” Nico asked, mentally preparing himself to grab a fistful of pumpkin innards.

Will ran his hand along his forehead, “it’s a surprise! You can’t know!”

“Ugh, you’re no fun.” Nico complained, eyeing his pumpkin again.

“Oh come on Nico, it’s just some pumpkin seeds, it’s not going to hurt you!” Will said, gesturing to Nico’s pumpkin.

“Oh really? I don’t see you digging in to your pumpkin.”

That’s all it took, with a smirk, Will opened up his pumpkin and emerged both hands into the opening, pulling out two seed covered, slimy hands.

Nico crinkled his nose, “gross!”

Will leaned forward, gooey arms outstretched, “come on, Nico, give me a hug!”

Nico yelped and leaned back, trying to avoid his boyfriends sticky grasp.

After sometime had passed, and the two boys were putting the last details on their pumpkins, Will brought in two tea light candles.

“Are you ready for the big reveal?” Will asked, picking up his pumpkin and setting it on the table, being careful not to reveal its carving to the other.

Nico made one last cut with his knife and then nodded, “yeah. Get ready to lose.”

Will laughed, “okay, do you want to go first, Mr.Confidence?”

“Gladly.” With some flare, Nico plucked a match from Will’s hand. He crossed the room and dimmed the lights. He then picked up his pumpkin with a grunt and set it on the table next to Will’s, also facing away.

Nico removed the pumpkin’s top and lit the candle. He quickly set it in the hollow center of the pumpkin and replaced the lid.

He stepped back, gesturing to his pumpkin. “Flip it around whenever you’re prepared to have your mind blown.”

“Don’t count on it, Sweetheart.” Will said, stepping up and placing his hands on Nico’s pumpkin. After a moment of suspense, Will slowly turned Nico’s jack-o-lantern around. Its cut out image was glowing brightly in the dark room. The pumpkin’s surface glowed a bright scene of an eerie graveyard, complete with bats with glowing eyes and a weeping willow tree in the background.
Will studied it for a moment. “Looks good, you have definitely gotten better in the last few years.” Nico nodded in satisfaction. “I still won, though.” Will added, shrugging causally.

“What?! My carving is amazing, there is no way you won again.”

“You said that last year.” Will said flatly, lighting his match and then his tea light. He replaced his lid and stepped back.
“Whenever you’re ready,” he gestured to his pumpkin, a smile on his face.
Nico narrowed his eyes and stepped forward, slowly he turned his boyfriends pumpkin around, revealing its image.
Nico took a step back to look at it. On the pumpkin’s front, words had been cut out of it.

Will you marry me?

Nico turned around, eyes wide, only to find his boyfriend on one knee, his hands clasped around a small black box.

Nico’s hands went to his mouth, unable to find words.

Will laughed, opening the box to reveal a small, shiny ring. “Nico? Will you marry me?”

Nico nodded, laughing because he was unsure what else to do. Will slipped the simple ring on his fiancé’s finger, standing up to hug Nico.

“I told you I’d win again.”

benjen not only saved jon’s life, he also saved bran and meera’s life. here’s to a wasted, truly unsung, soon to be erased and forgotten hero

my #1 favorite thing about lardo duan is that when she meets a very famous nhl player at a party she doesn’t ask for his autograph or gets excited. oh no. she makes him play beer pong with her. she thrashes him at beer pong. she makes him write on a piece of paper that she beat him at beer pong. and then she makes him take a selfie with her. and she gets the whole thing on video.  

& she can’t even be bothered to properly brag to shitty about it ten minutes later. 

it’s lardo’s world & we’re all just living in it

Fan Submission: Meeting Dylan O'Brien - My Experience

Okay so on Wednesday 26th April I was able to visit the set of the death cure because I won a short film competition last year! And I was able to chat with Dylan on set.

The first thing that happened was Dyl waving at me.
I was walking up an area of set & he was filming a scene. I was just there and I smiled at him because I saw him looking at me. I wasn’t really expecting him to smile back since he was filming but then he did! And the next thing I know is that he’s there WAVING HIS GOOFY WAVE AT ME. I wave back (blushing and totally in shock) and Dyl just keeps waving at me.
When I have to walk away from watching the filming I can’t help but continue grinning, heart pounding, because Dylan waved at me without any prompt or anything. I can’t describe how wonderful that was.

So we were about to leave set (I’m still smiling from Dylan’s dorkiness) when he arrives through the door! First of all, all I see is his hair because he’s actually so small & fragile looking like I just melted.

The first thing Dyl did was shake everyone by the hand and introduce himself to them like we didn’t know who he was - I mean he is so humble. I was really nervous and I think he could tell that but he was so sweet and caring, my
mum came to the set with me and when he shook her hand he was just like “Is this mom?!”
He was asking us where we were all from & started putting on accents (Italian, Irish) and he was so funny and sweet! We chatted a bit more & he was so genuinely interested about the competition. I was so happy to see him so happy and healthy.

I then plucked up enough courage to give Dyl the drawing I drew him of Thomas (the character!) and his reaction was the cutest thing:
“Woah! You drew this? This is insane!”
I then told him that it was for him and he said, “This is for me? Oh my god, you’re super sweet!” I literally just melted I mean being called super sweet by DOB is the most heartwarming feeling ever, his smile just radiates me. He even knew it was from the first movie and was so kind. I thanked him again for taking the time to meet us and he replied “No problem - I really wanted to meet you guys, I just hope you guys like the movie. I can’t wait for you guys to see it!”

After that, he hugged everyone and wow his hug was so warm and strong and safe.
He thanked me again for the drawing and could see how nervous I still was so just made me laugh by saying “Thanks again for the drawing of my face!” Then Dyl did that laugh with his dimples and his eyes were so bright and happy. When he walked off he was showing another guy who worked on set the drawing and was looking at it. I was just beaming, my whole body was so light and my heart was so whole but then… Dylan came back again!

He wanted to wave us all off but ended up having another conversation before that, just chatting about Cape Town and being so casual and cool whilst I’m just internally melting. When he says goodbye this time he shouts “Enjoy your time on the party bus!” and I couldn’t help but laugh because he was being so normal and chill with us.

When I was walking towards the bus I turned back again and smiled at Dylan and he looked at me straight in the eyes and gave me the most beautiful, reassuring smile that I have ever seen. When we were driving away he waved at us with two hands again.

Honestly, Dylan is such a genuine, honest, beautiful human being and I am so grateful.

During more serious moments on locker clean-out day, Karlsson said he hopes Sidney Crosby can win the Cup, and indicated he told the Penguins’ captain that in the handshake line on Thursday.

“I think he’s the best player in the world and he has been for 10-plus years,” said Karlsson. “I wished him all the best. They’re a good team. They’ve proven that. They won last year but they’re not satisfied with that. I think that’s impressive.

“What they’re doing right now is really special and I’m happy for them, even though they beat us. We lost to a better team. Hopefully they can keep it going.”

anonymous asked:

I love your writing so so much! It makes me feel all tingly inside (like Lili when Believer comes on ;)) I was wondering if you could write #13 x

13.co-stars au

He was pissed. Actually he was beyond pissed, this wasn’t right, it didn’t make any sense.

So what if Sabrina Spellman quit the show? It wasn’t his fault she was a diva with an inferiority complex, so why the hell did they have to bring in a new love interest five episodes into the third season of “Write Me Lovely”. it was now up to Jughead Jones to pretend to fall madly in love with whatever new costar they decided to spring on him, as if pretending to love Sabrina had been an easy task.

Sabrina Spellman played the Character Jamie Lewis, opposite Jugheads character Carter Noles. They had grown up together on the show, childhood sweethearts turned best friends and lovers. But Sabrina was horrible and she made it fairly difficult to enjoy any scene she was in, Jughead had been waiting for the day she quit, begging the producers and writers to break Carter and Jamie up. It all came to a head just a few days ago when Sabrina decided that she wasn’t in enough scenes and demanded more, when they refused she up and quit, the plan was to have her run away in the show, break Jugheads heart. Enter new Character Emma May to pick up the pieces.

“Maybe you’ll like her dude. Veronica said that she met the chick who’s playing Emma and that she’s the sweetest thing and totally hot.” Archie Andrews nudged Jughead, shoveling food into his mouth as makeup attempted to brush away the ketchup staining his cheek and fake letterman jacket.

“I don’t care. I don’t want a new love interest. Do you know how difficult it is to pretend you enjoy making out with someone when every single time you lean in for the kiss you get an hour long discussion on how to stage kiss? I’m about done. I mean we won six teen choice awards last year, obviously we’re doing something right why change it up. Why add someone new?” The dark haired boy in the leather jacket grumbled, grabbing a bag of chips and dropping onto his set chair.

“They say she’s a pretty big name. Ronnie won’t tell me who but apparently she was shocked to see that she was joining the cast.” The red headed boy shrugged.

“Great another Ego.”

“Did someone say Ego?” Veronica Lodge appeared before the boys, tight purple dress and signature heels clacking on the soundstage floor.

Archie chuckled

“What’s up babe?” He grinned, rumors around set were that Veronica and Archie were hooking up behind the scenes but no one had the courage to ask.

“I’m just here to introduce you to….” she trailed off, looking behind her shoulder “oh dang it, she probably got stopped again.”

“I’m right here. Sorry the sound guy wanted an autograph.”

Jugheads jaw nearly dropped to the ground, his eyes widened as he stared at the beautiful woman in front of him.

It was Betty Cooper, Broadway’s Most up and coming actress, tony award winner and Americas Sweetheart. Her long blonde curls were pinned back and she wore a soft cotton blue dress, sparkling green eyes shining up at him as he shifted in his boots.

“Ah there you are! Boys, this is Betty Cooper she’s playing Emma May and she’s going to be amazing. Obviously.” Veronica laughed,

“Great to meet you Betty, I’m Archie Andrews, I play Vic. I can’t wait to talk but me and Veronica have a pretty steamy scene film, something about a shower I think.” He waggled his eyebrows as Veronica rolled her eyes

“I’ll see you at our next scene Betts, I think there’s a crying scene in there somewhere so think sad thoughts.” The raven haired princess blew a kiss to her new friend and left with Archie , leaving Betty standing in front of Jughead

“Hi. You must be Carter. I’m your Emma.” Her smile was blinding, dimples poking out as the ponytail she wore bobbed adorably, he couldn’t help the grin that crept up on his features

“Jughead Jones, nice to meet you. I’m your Carter.” He stuck out his hand which Betty eagerly took before she glanced up at him

“Listen, I totally get that it wasn’t your choice to have another love interest, they filled me in before I accepted the role. I promise to make this as easy and fun as possible, I’ve never worked on a television show before but I’m a quick learner.”

Jughead felt his cheeks flame slightly, she probably thought he was the biggest asshole.

“No! No it’s not like that, I just.. haven’t had the best experience with love interests, I guess I’m just a little bitter.” He shrugged slightly, his lips tilted up.

Betty nodded in understanding
“I totally get that. When I was playing Glinda in wicked my Elphaba hated me. It’s not gonna be like that though! I think we’re gonna get along just fine.” Betty’s tiny hand gripped his as she smiled hopefully up at him

Jughead glanced down at their intertwined fingers

“You know what Betty Cooper, I think you’re right.”

anonymous asked:

Did dean ever get his heart transplant? I gotta know.

Yes. Absolutely. I had a sequel started and outlined where he does, and I went back to writing it whenever I missed Disneyland, but I haven’t worked on it in a long time. I just opened it for the first time in forever, and if it’s any indication of the pain I had planned, here’s the first line:

The good news is, Dean finally got bad enough that they bumped him up the transplant list.

The bad news is, Dean finally got bad enough that they bumped him up the transplant list.

Yeah, whoops.

HOWEVER, if it’s any consolation, when I opened that document, I found a couple little fic bits for the Your Heart Makes universe that I had written at some point and forgotten about? So uh, here’s one: 

Dean visits sick kids while he’s in the hospital because of-fucking-course he does. Since he and Cas had started dating, Dean had been admitted to the hospital twice. Before, he’d been too sick to do much of anything. More pacemaker issues. Respiratory problems. Ideally, Dean’s job situation would mean he’s not exposed to that many germs from the people in the park, but Dean doesn’t exactly play it safe on his own time. Luckily, this third time he was admitted, he felt okay, was just in overnight as a precaution, but it meant that the whole time he was there it was like he was blowing some kind of high-pitched whistle that only the nurses could hear.

They all came at him and wanted to tell him off for not taking it easy or for eating too many fried foods or for drinking too much coffee. He took it gracefully until a dark-haired nurse with a sultry smile approached to tell him that the kids down in Peds missed him, and then it was all game-face and sullen determination. Dean didn’t like being here, hated being strapped down to equipment, hated the way that hospitals made him feel like he was already dying, so Castiel could see the exact moment where he decided to turn it into another exercise in self-destructive selflessness.

Cas was a part of this now. He couldn’t pinpoint the exact moment he went from ‘unwilling tagalong’ to ‘reluctant co-conspirator,’ but if he had to try, it would probably be that first day back in the park, right after he learned about Dean’s heart condition. Right around when he kissed him on a ride that they shouldn’t have been riding at all. Dean, it seemed, needed to do these things, and since it was Sam’s role to tell him not to, Sam’s role to object to the things they both knew he would do anyway, it fell on Castiel to make sure he did them as safely as possible.

So when night fell, Castiel helped him to secure his left arm in a sling so he didn’t forget himself and lift it above his head, then he strapped a paper mask over Dean’s mouth so he didn’t get anything nasty and catching from a sick kid. And finally, it fell on him to follow behind Dean down the hallway, dodging nurses and wheeling his drips and monitors in an attempt to be something approaching stealthy. Castiel figured out pretty quickly that the nurses must have been turning a blind eye to it anyway, because there was absolutely no way that no one would have noticed them by the time they made it to the elevator. They even shared the elevator car with a stout nurse who hid a smile behind her hand as Dean, red-faced, complained that Cas wasn’t willing to carry his IV pole down two measly flights of stairs.

It was quiet in the kids’ ward. A lot of them were settled into their beds, but when Dean squeaky-wheeled his way inside, many of them perked up. It was clear many knew him–these were the kids who were obviously repeat offenders. The whole ward was bright and overly cheery and the kids were pale or bald or skinny, and Cas felt himself taking a nosedive before he was even all the way inside the room.

Naomi called what he did spirals. Little loops of bad thoughts that he got himself stuck in. She gave him breathing exercises and thinking exercises and exercise exercises to try and work himself out of the bad places he got into. And she taught him how to recognize when one was coming on.

That’s not really rational, she’d stop him in the middle of a story to say. That’s not what people really think about you.

Now, he recognized that it was silly to look at these kids and pity himself. But he couldn’t help thinking of his two wasted years in no-man’s land, his two years wallowing in self-pity, his two years where a day didn’t mean anything and if the earth had swallowed him up, he wouldn’t have cared, and he couldn’t have helped thinking the no one else would’ve either. Looking at kids like these, kids that had to fight ever day to just exist, kind of put things into perspective.

Dean was one of those kids once. He still hadn’t heard much about Dean’s childhood, but there were painted Disney murals on the walls, and they struck a chord with something that Sam told him that first night. He could see little-boy Dean sitting in front of a television, watching 101 Dalmations, strapped to the same clunky equipment he was right now and trying to make the best of his bad situation. Back then, he’d probably thought that when he was the age he is now, he’d have a healthy heart to sustain him.

And who was Cas, someone who so freely took advantage of his time here, to be with someone like Dean? Dean must’ve thought it sometimes, too. That Cas wasn’t strong enough for him. That Cas didn’t have the fortitude to do more than survive when he was healthy enough to be living.

Naomi compared thoughts like that to a steam engine, and Castiel liked to think of his brain as the Disneyland Railroad, blasting straight through Tomorrowland Station and right into the Primeval World. Except with fewer dinosaurs, maybe. Naomi’s exercises did an okay job of slowing things down, taking some of the coals off the fire—

“And this is my boyfriend, Cas.”

But nothing ever derailed the train quite like Dean. Cas snapped from whatever steep incline he’d been tumbling down and marveled again at the fact that that was so easy for Dean. He took Castiel’s hand for a second, gave it a brief squeeze, and held his eye. Castiel could feel where Dean’s IV hooked into the back of his hand, so he tried not to squeeze back too much. But it was hard, because some part of him always wanted to hold onto Dean for forever.

Most of the kids didn’t give a shit who Cas was, didn’t give a shit about boyfriends or social stigmas, they only seemed to care that Cas might also be able to draw them in princess dresses or fighting monsters.

“Can you draw like Dean can?” One of the girls asked. Cas looked down at her. Visibly, there was nothing wrong with her, but she was pale, and her lips were a little bit chapped and dry. Castiel knew that he was mentally assessing what was wrong with each of them, silently doing the is-this-one-going-to-get-better? tango that Gabriel insisted everyone did but no one admitted to. They got a lot of Make-A-Wish kids in the park. A lot. And the character actors were always amazing with them—but the younger people working the rides. The seventeen- and eighteen-year-old kids who had just gotten their first summer jobs—they had no idea what to do with them. Cas didn’t really either. Definitely not to start.

It was always hard. Facing that. Facing something so damning in someone so young.

“No.” The little girl shuffled her feet. He wanted to say, I can’t do much of anything that would be of interest to you. I’m not even sure why I’m here. But that was probably a little bit heavy for a little girl in princess jammies who was up past her bedtime. “I’m not very good at drawing.”

“Oh. I’m okay at it. Last year I won second in a art contest at Garcia’s. You know. The restaurant? I got a free burrito. But Dean’s better than me though.” Castiel nodded along. “Do you like horses? I can teach you how to draw horses.”

Castiel nodded again. He watched the little girl scamper back to her bed and grab paper and markers. And then he sat down, shut up, and learned how to draw horses.

Dean was swamped with kids, smiling hugely behind his paper mask, popping off caricatures left and right. Disney characters and otherwise. But Castiel took charge of just the one, and he followed her careful instructions to produce about as good a horse as he had ever doodled alone.

By the time the nurses came around to break up their not-so-subtle rendezvous, Dean had won the heart of every kid twice-over, and Castiel had a quiet field of pretty horses, grazing in the moonlight, on top of the stark linoleum. The little girl yawned and hugged him and took the drawing with her when she climbed back in bed.

As they waved goodbye to the kids and walked, nurse supervised, out the door, Dean bumped him with his shoulder. Castiel, stiffly, bumped back.

“You made a friend,” he teased, that same winning smile crinkling his eyes.

“Yes, well. I learned how to draw a horse.”



“No shit.”

“Nothing quite so impressive as your artwork, I’m afraid.”

Dean blew a raspberry with his lips, took hold of Castiel’s hand with his one free one. The rubber tubing of his IVs rubbed against Castiel’s forearm, and Dean’s hidden grin softened into just a smile.

“Sometimes just being there is enough, you know?” He shrugged.

Castiel squeezed Dean’s hand.

“Yes,” he said. “I suppose it is.”

just here to tell yall that your very own pattonscardigan has won all four subject awards yet again 😎😎😎


Tala, Haliya, Magwayen {2013}

So last year, I went to Hong Kong. Because I won an art contest thing. I haven’t been out of the country in a while so it was a welcome change of pace and scenery. I actually had meant to make a long post about it late last year. But after I got back, I was greeted with a series of unfortunate events. And eventually I just never got around to it.

Part of the conditions though for my Hong Kong trip was to create more art for an exhibit there. The point of the exhibit was to tell stories of mystique and being Filipino. So I came up with the above paintings all based on three goddesses in the Philippine mythological pantheon. They’re all a bit rough, but I was in a bit of a rush. I see so many faults in all of them that it’s driving me nuts. But I was happy with them at the time, now I’m not so sure.

It could be better. But whatever.

At least I got to Hong Kong and I think I was able to communicate my stories well enough. Well enough that I sold the canvas prints to a lovely couple. So these paintings are now probably hanging in their apartment in Hong Kong.

Aside from the sweet validation, it was also kind of a relief that I sold out actually. I brought my tablet along for repairs but without really any money to pay for it, but it all worked out.  Plus, I got a bit of extra shopping money. I bought art materials mostly.

But the whole time before the night of the exhibit had ended, I was worried I wasn’t going to sell and that I would have to lug those massive canvases back to the Philippines along with a still-broken Intuos. It would’ve been so devastating.

Anyway, it was a great trip. It was pretty soul-enriching. Met a lot of really cool people and made a few new friends. And I learned a lot through the process of making these though, despite not being entirely happy with them. I always make it a point to experiment and try something new with every serious painting. I think that’s important, but sometimes I end up with glorious failures. But then again, my most unforgiving critic is myself.

Patater Week (Feb 7) - Proposal


It was supposed to be a romantic camping getaway. Instead, they’re tearing the campsite apart as fast as possible because the radio announced a freak blizzard on the way and snowflakes are already billowing down.

They manage to get everything in the car and drive out of the woods without they get stuck in a forming snowdrift.

Alexei drives, because they’re in Canada, the car is a rental, and of the two of them, he’s the one with an international driver’s license.

(”Can’t believe you have passport but not international driver’s license, Kent. What you do when you playing in Vancouver? Or Montreal?”

“I go back to the hotel after the game and I sleep.”)

Alexei is calm but Kent is scrunched down in the passenger’s seat, seething. Alexei thinks the glower is darker than warranted, but he does kind of understand Kent’s annoyance. The camping trip was his idea. A just-over-two-years anniversary trip, since their actual anniversary was in the middle of playoffs due to their having hooked up during All Stars weekend one time and managing to admit mutual feelings of “like” around the time they realized they might be facing off for the cup.

They hadn’t, but the Skype call regarding that issue had been enlightening, to say the least.

“Is okay, Kent,” Alexei says as the windshield wipers zip across his vision and the road before him turns increasingly white. “We try again, yes? Maybe go back out tomorrow, if weather clears?”

Kent grumbles and buries his nose deeper in his coat. He’s cold-blooded and gets chills if a cool breeze blows by. Alexei loves it, because it gives him the excuse to wrap Kent up in Alexei’s warm arms all the time. Now, he pats Kent’s leg. But Kent’s not having it. He grumbles again and says, “No way this’ll clear up by tomorrow. Next week, maybe.”

“So we re-schedule our flights home,” Alexei says. He takes his hand back, because a responsible driver always has two hands on the wheel. “Stay in hotel until snow is gone. No big deal—”

And that is the moment one of their tires blows out.

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anonymous asked:

Mr. Penguin is hosting his annual Thug Appreciation Party at the Iceberg Lounge this Saturday. It's nice to feel appreciated. The door prizes are good too; last year I won a pair of diamond earrings for the missus and an extra bone saw for myself. #OnlyInGotham