i'm sorry this is the greatest of all the things let's go home now

🎶🎶When You Collect Records🎶🎶
  • Hipster: *moves dusty old boxes out of the way* Whoa, an old record player. It looks like it's in working order too! *runs outside*
  • Hipster: Yo, dad!
  • Dad: What?
  • Hipster: We're getting rid of all of poppop's stuff, right?
  • Dad: There's something you want, isn't there?
  • Hipster: There's this old stereo record player in the attic.
  • Dad: What do you need a record player for?
  • Hipster: My record collection.
  • Dad: I didn't even know they still made those things. Can't you just listen to music on your phone?
  • Hipster: Dad, there's a big difference between listening to music digitally and on record.
  • Dad: Fine, I don't wanna get into it with you right now. You can take the record player. You just have to get someone else to take it to your place for you. My truck's full.
  • Hipster: Thanks dad! *smooches dad on the cheek*
  • *later at hipster's apartment*
  • Friend: So, like Patch Adams ends with Patch Adams half-naked in front of a ton of people. I don't know if it was meant to be funny or like a weird sex thing, but like the movie was just a deeply disturbing character study. I can't stop thinking about it.
  • Hipster: That sounds boring. *unlocks door to apartment* Ta-da! Here it is! My new record player!
  • Friend: New? Looks fucking old to me, dude.
  • Hipster: Well, it is old. That's the appeal. And we're going to listen to the new Sufjan record on it.
  • Friend: Is that actually how you say Sufjan? Apparently, I've been pronouncing it wrong this whole time.
  • Hipster: Well, you won't after this record. There's an entire track where he just says his name for four minutes. It's amazing. *plays records*
  • Record Player: *coughs* Hello. Hello! Where am I? Doctor? Hello! Why is it so dark...............................Can I breathe? I can't breath. Oh god, I'm not breathing! Oh god, oh god, oh god, oh god, oh god! I.....................................
  • Hipster: Uh, that's not Sufjan.
  • Friend: It totally isn't. Is it some guest vocalist? I like the new direction he's going in. No instruments or singing, and long stretches of silence. Very experimental.
  • Hipster: *stops record player* I think maybe we should do something else for now.
  • Friend: Fucking lame! I wanted to listen to more Sufjan.
  • *days later at the record store*
  • Hipster: Yo, I think the Sufjan Stevens record I bought from here might be some kind of mispress.
  • Store Clerk: Really? It's a pretty major album. I doubt there'd just be a mispress like that.
  • Hipster: Yeah, but listen to it. It's not Sufjan at all. It's some girl talking.
  • *hipster and clerk listen to a completely normal Sufjan Stevens album together*
  • Store Clerk: What are you talking about? This is definitely Sufjan Stevens.
  • Hipster: Okay, but it wasn't like that when I listened to it at home! I even listened to it with my friend and he heard the same thing!
  • Store Clerk: Maybe there's something wrong with your record player.
  • Hipster: Hmm, maybe there is.
  • *back at the apartment*
  • Hipster: *turns on record player and just listens*
  • Record Player: ...I'm awake again. Why did I black out? Did I even black out? God, I'm not breathing, but it doesn't matter. Why don't I need to breathe? Am I even alive?
  • Hipster: Can you hear me?
  • Record Player: Doctor. Doctor! DOCTOR! Why can't I move? Why can't I feel anything. Keep yourself together. It'll all make sense soon. Calm down. Just breathe deeply. Fuck, I can't breathe! AIIIIIIIIIIIIIIEEEEEEEEEEEEE! I CAN'T BREATHE! DOCTOR! DOCTOR! DOCTOR! HELP! HELP ME, PLEASE! I'M STUCK! I CAN'T MOVE! PLEASE HELP ME!
  • Hipster: *turns off record player* It's just a recording, I bet. I can't believe I talked to it like an idiot... *nervously turns record player back on*
  • Record Player: I blacked out again. I blacked out. For how long? Is there even time here? Hell. This is hell, right? Did I go to hell.........................................
  • Hipster: *listens to the record player for hours*
  • Record Player: Negative 6893 bottles of wine on the wall! Negative 6893 bottles of wine! Take one down, pass it around, Negative 6894 bottles of wine on the wall... fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck! PLEASE SOMEONE HELP ME! AIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!
  • Hipster: *keeps listening*
  • Record Player: Soul of Christ, make me holy, Body of Christ, be my salvation. God, please forgive me. I'm sorry for all of my sins. Please free me. I'm so sorry. Please. Please. Please.
  • Hipster: *still listening*
  • Record Player: FUCK YOU! FUCK YOU! SHITTY DOCTOR! FUCK YOU! LET ME OUT! LET ME OUT! *sobs intensely* FUCK YOU! FUCK YOU! FUCK EVERYTHING! Please just let me go.
  • Hipster: *nervously walks up to record player and lightly taps on it*
  • Record Player: ...A knock. A KNOCK! PLEASE HELP ME! I'M STUCK! PLEASE! *record player begins shake violently*
  • Hipster: *backs away in fear*
  • Hipster: *unplugs record player*
  • Hipster: *gets hammer from the closet and begins to break apart record player*
  • Record Player: *drips red*
  • Hipster: W-What? *cracks front of record player open*
  • *rotting viscera falls from the record player*
  • Hipster: O-Oh... *stuffs viscera back into the record player and duct tapes over it*
  • Hipster: *turns record player back on*
  • Record Player: ...I can feel. It hurts. Why does it hurt now? Why does it hurt? Why? Why? Why? WHY!? WHY!? WHY!? *spurts blood through it speakers and begins to gurgle*
  • Record Player: *hops forward* Please just let me go. Please... please. I'll do anything. I just want to see you again. I'm so sorry. This isn't what I asked for. I'm so sorry. *hops forward again and comes unplugged*
  • Record Player: *tips over, bleeding heavily onto the carpet*
  • Hipster: *silently cleans up the mess*
  • *some time later*
  • Hipster: *calls dad* Hey, dad. Oh, nothing. Uh, I just need to borrow your truck, If not tonight sometime this week. I just need to get rid of something. No, no, that's fine, I can do it myself. Yeah, tomorrow morning is perfect. Thanks Love you too. Bye.
  • *the next afternoon*
  • Dad: So, what did you need to get rid of this morning?
  • Hipster: Nothing important. Just some old junk... Dad, what kind of person was poppop?
  • Dad: Well, he was only the greatest man I've known in my life. Really caring, dedicated to his family. When you were born he loved you so much. He was a bit of a loner, though. It took a lot to get him to open up. Even around me and your grandmother. He was a bit like you. Always a huge music lover.
  • Hipster: I see. Was he ever a doctor?
  • Dad: That's a weird thing to ask. Nope. He hated doctors. Didn't trust modern medicine one bit. It's ironic. His cancer probably wouldn't have gotten to him if he did. But, your poppop was always so stubborn.
  • Hipster: Oh, okay then.
  • *some days later*
  • Friend: New carpet?
  • Hipster: Yup, old one was ugly wasn't it. It was time for a change.
  • Friend: That's what I've been telling you! I'm glad you finally came to your senses. What happened to your record player, though?
  • Hipster: That thing? I threw it away. It was busted.
  • Friend: That sucks. Are you gonna buy a new one?
  • Hipster: No.
  • Friend: But you won't have anything to play your records on.
  • Hipster: Yeah, but I buy records because I want to support the artists. They're not really for listening. Besides, lossless is better. FLAC is the future.
Bnha x Mulan AU (TodoDeku) Goofy idea/fanfic I'll never write. (sorry anon. Still love you. I just watched the movie and Bakugou is now Yao to me. Hope you see this bc I accidentally deleted your ask x_x. <3)
  • *
  • Toshinori Yagi: My, what beautiful blossoms we have this year. But look, this one's late. But I'll bet that when it blooms, it will be the most beautiful of all.
  • *
  • Izuku: Excuse me, where can I sign in? Ahhh, I see you have a sword. I got one too! -goes to pull out sword- I'm very manly andddd...tough! -accidentally drops sword-
  • *
  • Mineta: For instance, my eyes, can see straightttt through your armor.
  • Izuku: -slaps Mineta-
  • *
  • Aoyama: -sparkling- Look! This tattoo will protect me from harm.
  • Bakugou: Hmmm -punches guy-
  • Kaminari: -laughs- I hope you can get your money back!
  • *
  • Bakugou: -spits- What are you lookin' at?
  • Mineta: -whispering- Punch him. It's how men say hello.
  • Izuku: -punches Bakugou-
  • Kirishima: -holding a fuming Bakugou- Bakugou, you've made a friend!
  • Mineta: Good. Now slap him on the behind. They like that.
  • Izuku: -slaps Bakugou's butt-
  • Bakugou: I'm gonna hit you so hard, it'll make your ancestors dizzy.
  • Kirishima: Bakugou -picks up Bakugou- relax and chant with me. -chants, while slowly rocking Bakugou back and forth-
  • Bakugou: -growls, but eventually chants-...blurbedjal...eh, you ain't worth my time, chicken boy.
  • *
  • Todoroki: -looming over Izuku- I don't need anyone causing trouble in my camp!
  • Izuku: Sorry...-man voice- Uhh, I mean, sorry you had to see that. You know how it is when you get those, ugh, manly urges and you just have to kill something...fix things, uh, cook outdoors.
  • Todoroki: What's your name?
  • Izuku: Ahh, I,, uhh I, uhh-
  • Monoma: Your commanding officer just asked you a question!
  • Izuku: Uhh, I've got a name. Huhh a-and it's a boys name too!
  • Mineta: -whispers hiding behind Izuku- Kaminari, how about Kaminari?
  • Izuku: His name is Kaminari.
  • Todoroki: I didn't ask for his name. I asked for yours.
  • Mineta: Try, ugh, ughhh, ahh Chu!
  • Izuku: Ah Chu.
  • Todoroki: Ah Chu?
  • Mineta: Gesundheit. Hehe, I kill myself.
  • Izuku: Minetaaa
  • Todoroki: Mineta?
  • Izuku: NO!
  • Todoroki: -frustrated- Then what is it!
  • Mineta: Deku! Deku was my best friend growing up!
  • Izuku: IT'S DEKU!
  • Todoroki: Deku.
  • Mineta: Though Deku did steal my gir -gets choked by Izuku-
  • *
  • Izuku: -arrives-
  • Kaminari: Looks like our new friend slept in this morning! Helloooo Deku, are you hungry?
  • Bakugou: Yeahhh, 'causse I owe you a knuckle sandwich -grabs Izuku with fist raised-
  • Todoroki: Soldiers! You will assemble swiftly and silently every morning. -takes off shirt-
  • Izuku: ... -secretly or not so secretly checkin' Todo out-
  • Todoroki: Anyone who acts otherwise, will answer to me.
  • *
  • Izuku: -eyes wide in fear and hiding behind lily pad- Hi guys! I didn't know you were here! So, I'm clean and I'm gonna go. BYE BYE!
  • Kaminari: Come back hereee! I know we were jerks to you before, so let's start over! -naked and holding hand out to shake- Hiiii, I'm Kaminari!
  • Izuku: -naked and worried, shakes hand and bumps into Kirishima standing behind her-
  • Kirishima: And I'm Kirishima!
  • Izuku: -cringes- Hello Kirishimaaa.
  • Bakugou: -butt naked and standing on a rock- AND I AM BAKUGOU KATSUKI. KING OF THE ROCK. And there's nothing you girl's can do about it.
  • Izuku: -covers eyes-
  • Kaminari: Oh yeahhh! Well, I think Deku and I can take you.
  • Izuku: -still covering eyes trying to get away- I don't really want to take him anywhere.
  • Kaminari: But, Deku! We have to fight!
  • Izuku: We can just close our eyes...and swim around -Kaminari touches her forearm and gets too close-
  • *
  • Mineta: -spits- Ohh...what a nasty flavor.
  • Bakugou, Kirishima and Kaminari: SNAKE~ -cue screaming at the snake in the water-
  • A moment later, Kirishima: Some king of the rock...AHH! -gets pushed off rock by Bakugou-
  • *
  • Izuku: Boy, that was close...
  • Mineta: -brushing teeth- No, that was vile. YOU OWE ME BIG.
  • *
  • Todoroki: -pissed and stroming off-
  • Izuku: Hey, I'll hold him and you punch, heh, heh...-Todoroki walks by without reacting- or not. -calling out to Todoorki- For what it's worth, I think you're a great captain.
  • Mineta: I saw that!
  • Izuku: -innocent and cute- What?
  • Mineta: You likeee him don't youuu?
  • Izuku: N-No, I--
  • Mineta: Yeah right, yeah sure. Look, GO TO YOUR TENT.
  • *
  • Kaminari: Step back guys, give 'em some air.
  • Todoroki: Deku, you are the craziest man I've ever met. And for that I owe you my life. From now on, you have my trust.
  • Kirishima: YES, YES, YESSS! -bumps hips with a random guy nearby-
  • *
  • Izuku: TODOROKI-KUN!
  • Todoroki: -surprised- Izuku?
  • Izuku: The League of Villains are alive, they're in the city.
  • Todoroki: You don't belong here Deku, go home.
  • Izuku: Todoroki, I saw them. You have to believe me.
  • Todoroki: Why should I?
  • Izuku: Why else would I come back? You said you'd trust Deku. Why is Izuku any different? Keep your eyes open. I know they're here.
  • *
  • Izuku: Okay, any questions?
  • Bakugou: Does this dress make me look fat?
  • Izuku: -slaps Bakugou-
  • Bakugou: Ow.
  • *
  • Todorki: -awkward- Um...you...you fight good.
  • Mulan: Oh....t-thank you. -disappointed-
  • *
  • Principal Nedzu: The flower that blooms in adversity is the most rare and beautiful of all.
  • Todoroki: Sir?
  • Principal Nedzu: You don't meet a girl like that every dynasty.
  • Todoroki: -goes after Midoriya-
  • *
  • Izuku: -kneels before All Might- Father. I brought you the mask of All for One, and the crest of Principal Nedzu. They're gifts, to honor the Yagi family.
  • Toshinori Yagi: -drops everything to hug Izuku- The greatest gift and honor is having you for a daughter. I've missed you so.
  • Izuku: -crying- I've missed you too Papa!
  • *
  • Todoroki: Honorable Toshinori Yagi, All Might, I--IZUKU...I..uh...uh..you forgot your helmet. Ah but well, actually it's your helmet isn't it? I mean-
  • Toshinori Yagi: -smiles with eyebrow raised-
  • Izuku: -smiling at Todoroki- Would you like to stay for dinner?
  • Recovery Girl: Would you like to stay forever?
  • Todoroki: -smiling at Izuku- Dinner would be great.
  • *
  • Aizawa: Ohhh, all right. You can be a guardian again. -cue Mineta screaming in joy-

anonymous asked:

I'm dying to read a tampon fic set during or post revival! Please will you write it? Please?

Tagging @today-in-fic and @fictober

He might be older these days but his focus, Mulder swears, is sharper than ever. Which is why Scully’s exhausting silence hits him right in the face. They’re on the road, a circumstance he still finds baffling even months into their reinstatement, on their way to their motel. That’s something he could do without; staying in second rate accommodations. He glances over at Scully, slouched in the passenger seat, looking exhausted. He thinks about asking her if she’s all right but he is not in the mood for her standard I’m fine. Their silences are still comfortable, just like they used to be when they were partnered first, but it’s not the same. Mulder feels the need to talk. Not even the about case. He wants to know what she had for dinner last night, what she watched on TV, whether she slept well. They’re on good terms, working as well together as always, but there is an invisible line now and he doesn’t know if she’ll let him cross it. 

“There’s a gas station. Let’s stop there a moment.” Scully says.

“We don’t need gas.”

“Can you please just stop the car, Mulder?” Annoyance mixed with exasperation. He sets the blinker and steers the car into the small parking area. Scully gets out of the car without a word and Mulder watches her long, certain strides. He locks the car before he follows her into the small convenience store. Soft music tinkles from an old, rusty radio and three men talk about their wives, children and grandchildren. They nod at Scully, but eye him curiously. I belong to her, Mulder thinks. In every sense of the word. Scully seems determined, searching for something in the back of the store. They used to go grocery shopping together. Let’s do something normal, Mulder, she’d said when she proposed it one Thursday afternoon. That was years ago. He has his groceries delivered nowadays; he has no idea when Scully goes grocery shopping or where. It’s selfish, he knows, but he hopes she does it alone. 

She walks towards him and he glances at her hands holding a box of tampons. Oh. They haven’t lived together in years and if Mulder is honest, he has almost forgotten what it’s like. He’d bring her hot water bottles, massage her back, and bring her to orgasm; anything she asked for. Many times she didn’t, though. Like all her burdens, big or small, she bore this particular one without complaint. He looks at her now; her face, to him, is still the same. There are a few wrinkles here and there and not as many laugh lines as he would have wanted for her. In his mind, she is not 53 years old. She’s ageless, just Scully. But he knows what her age means or should mean when it comes to her reproductive system. Not that it has been working properly these last 20 years. Of all the things she might have needed today, tampons were not high on Mulder’s guessing list.

“I’m just going to pay. Do you want anything? Sunflower seeds?”

“I’ll pay.” He holds out his hand and waits for Scully to give him the box of tampons.

“Mulder, it’s fine. I don’t need you to pay for my-”

“Scully? Please let me pay? Please?” There must be something in his voice or in his expression that convinces her. When she hands over the box, he swears he can hear a soft thank you before she walks out of the store. His eyes follow her until she’s at the car. He picks up two Musketeers bars, throws in a bag of sunflower seeds and pays for all of it. The cashier smiles at him knowingly and puts it in a bag.  

In the car, Scully holds on to the bag as if it contained the answers to all the questions in the world. Neither of them speaks the rest of the way. Mulder still wants to ask her how she feels. If there’s anything he can do to help. In the end, though, he remains quiet.

“See you tomorrow, Mulder. Good night.” Scully disappears into her motel room without another word and leaves Mulder standing there feeling lost. In his own room, he considers working on the case, but finds that he can’t concentrate. It’s not the same when Scully isn’t around to dispute his ideas, challenge him, or even call him crazy. So the files remain untouched. Instead of taking a shower, or changing into more comfortable clothes, he googles menopause and reads tales of women in their 40s and 50s as they exchange stories of hot flashes, emotional crises and loss of sex drive. He is so immersed in this world that he’s merely seen, never inhabited himself, that he doesn’t hear the knock at first.

“Mulder?” It’s Scully. He throws the phone on his bed and opens his door to her. An air of déjà-vu combined with the fresh evening air and Scully’s familiar scent fills his nostrils.

“Hey, you all right?”

“I think these are yours.” She hands him his sunflower seeds with a smile.

“I bought them for you, Scully.” He replies with a grin and takes them from her.

“Thank you for the Musketeer bars.“ 

"You used to want chocolate when you were on your period.” She nods, averts her eyes.

“Why don’t you come in?”

“It’s late, Mulder.”

“When has that ever stopped us before?”

“I’m not sure it’d be a good idea.”

“That’s never stopped us before either. Come in, please. Bring the Musketeer bars.”

“What makes you think I haven’t eaten them yet?”

“I know you, Scully. I know you.” He grins and to his greatest joy she pulls both bars out of her pockets. Her cheeks are pink with embarrassment or maybe something else that Mulder doesn’t dare to think about. He ushers her in, touches her arm, then her back, enjoying the normalcy of it. Scully sits down on the bed; there really isn’t much else to sit on. 

“Mulder, why are you reading about menopause?”


“Your phone. I wasn’t snooping - it’s on your phone. You know, you should really adjust your display, Mulder. It drains your battery. Now tell me why you’re interested in menopause.”

“I was just… wondering. I thought maybe you’d, you know.” Now it’s him whose cheeks take on a light pink color.

“You could have asked, Mulder.”

“Am I allowed to ask you things like that, Scully?” The question tumbles out before he can stop himself. Scully blinks at him, surprised.

“Are you allowed to ask me about my menstrual cycle? Is that what you’re asking?”

“No, I mean,” he takes a deep breath, sits next to her on the bed, “I don’t know what I’m allowed to ask you, to tell you. Where am I in your life? Is it still my business?”

“I don’t remember us talking in length about my period, Mulder. Ever.”

“But I knew. I was there, Scully. I didn’t need to ask because I was there. So am I allowed to ask?”

“Of course you’re allowed to ask, Mulder.” Scully sighs. “Is that why you googled menopause?”

“I thought by now you’d be, you know, done with it.”

“I thought so, too,” Scully admits, not looking at him, worrying the sheets. “That’s why I wasn’t prepared." 

"I’m sorry, Scully.”

“What are you sorry for?” She asks with a soft chuckle, granting him one of her warmest smiles that continuously makes him forget everything else.

“For everything.”

“That’s a lot to be sorry for, Mulder. Let me share some of that, hm?” She hands him one of the Musketeer bars.

“We’ve been called a lot of things. No one has ever called us the two Musketeers.” He bites into the rich chocolate, savors the taste and the feel. Most of all, though, he enjoys watching Scully’s eyes drift close as her lips close around the piece of chocolate. He wants to watch her eat chocolate for the rest of his life. It’d be a good life, he is certain of it.

“I should probably go back to my own room now.”

"I think you should stay right here.” Mulder says.


“We could do that thing we always did…”

“We did a lot of things, Mulder. Be specific.” But she doesn’t get up from his bed, doesn’t move away from him.

“You know, when your stomach hurt and your back?” He starts nuzzling her neck just to see her reaction. She tilts her head, grants him permission, gives in.

“Hm, I think I might remember.”

“Want me to help you? For old time’s sake?” His lips linger against her skin and she’s softer, warmer and more delicious than the chocolate he just tasted.

“Shut up, Mulder, and work your magic.”

the first time sana opens herself up to even it’s late at night and she has been crying for longer than she’d like to admit. she’s had the most awful day and nothing was able to cheer her up, the girls asked if something was wrong because they knew sana was not ok, but she just didn’t feel confortable talking about that with any of them, she never feels like she can talk about her feelings with someone, she has to be strong, has to be tough.

 but tonight sana feels more hopelless than she has felt for a while. even just texted her, with one of his ridiculous memes that he’s always sending everyone and she will never admit that some of them are actually funny. they’ve been best friends for a while now, it’s being so amazing hanging out with even and isak, sana has seen even at his best, but also at some pretty bad moments. she’s always trying to help both even and isak, always trying to be there for them. 

the only thing even did was ask if she was ok, just a simple question and sana doesn’t know why but she has to talk with someone and, for some reason, she feels like she can talk to even about everything so she just started telling him. she tells him about how she feels afraid but will never let it show, how she always feels like an outsider in the country that’s supposed to be her home, how she is always trying to prove herself, prove she’s strong, prove she knows how to deal with everything, prove she does not care about the looks she receives from people on the street, how she’s tired of pretending everything is fine when she actually has a lot of struggles. sana just tells even about everything and when she finishes it, it’s like she can finally breath pure air, like a huge and heavy stone was lifted from her back, and as she awaits for an answer she doesn’t allow herself to feel regret. so even responds. and sana is crying harder now. she’s crying because even is telling her things she didn’t expect to hear from anyone. “You don’t have to be strong all the time” he says, “You are allowed to be weak and you don’t have to hide it. You are allowed to be human.” and sana cries because deeply in herself she knows all that, but no one ever said this to her. “You are the smartest, greatest, strongest girl I’ve ever met and I’m so sorry that you feel like this” even’s words are sweet, sana thinks he’s the sweetest. “I know what it’s like to be in a stereotype, but I’m not gonna pretend I know what you go through, because I don’t.” and then she cries even harder: “But I know what it’s like to feel alone, to feel like you have to deal with everything by yourself because it is your own problem and your own battle, but let me tell you something: you are not alone, Sana. Me and Isak and the girls and all your friends, we care so much about you, we just want to see you happy. And we are here for you, we are by your side, supporting you. Always. You’re only a human ok? And you are never alone. Please, don’t forget that.” and sana is still crying but she feels so much better. you’re not alone. she thinks about even’s words and how nice he is and she feels so much better now. things aren’t always gonna be ok, but she’s not alone –she repeats to herself– she is not alone.

Melodrama sentence starters
  • "I know about what you did and I wanna scream the truth."
  • "You're such a damn liar."
  • "Thought you said that you would always be in love, but you're not in love no more."
  • "Did it frighten you how we kissed when we danced on the light up floor?"
  • "Honey, I'll be seein' you wherever I go."
  • "I'm waiting for it, that green light, I want it."
  • "I'll come get my things, but I can't let go."
  • "Played it so nonchalant, it's time we danced with the truth."
  • "I'm acting like I don't see."
  • "My hips have missed your hips."
  • "Will you sway with me?"
  • "We're King and Queen of the weekend."
  • "Ain't a pill that could touch our rush."
  • "But what will we do when we're sober?"
  • "These are the games of the weekend."
  • "We pretend that we just don't care."
  • "I know you're feeling it, too."
  • "Don't know you super well, but I think that you might be the same as me."
  • "Let's let things come out of the woodwork."
  • "I'll give you my best side, tell you all my best lies."
  • "Know I think you're awesome, right?"
  • "Blowing shit up with homemade dynamite."
  • "Might get your friend to drive, but he can hardly see."
  • "I guess we're partying."
  • "You know it's really gonna blow."
  • "Half of my wardrobe is on your bedroom floor."
  • "I am your sweetheart psychopathic crush."
  • "I overthink your punctuation use."
  • "A rush at the beginning, I get caught up, just for a minute."
  • "Lover, you're the one to blame, all that you're doing."
  • "Can you hear the violence?"
  • "Blow all my friendships to sit in hell with you."
  • "We're the greatest, they'll hang us in the Louvre, down the back, but who cares - still the Louvre."
  • "You are not my type, still I fall."
  • "I'm just the sucker who let you fill her mind."
  • "Baby really hurt me."
  • "He don't wanna know me, says he made the big mistake of dancing in my storm, says it was poison."
  • "I guess I'll go home."
  • "I'll go home into the arms of the girl that I love."
  • "She's so hard to please, but she's a forest fire."
  • "You're a little much for me."
  • "You're a liability, you're a little much for me."
  • "The truth is I am a toy that people enjoy 'til all of the tricks don't work anymore and then they are bored of me."
  • "Better on my own."
  • "I understand, I'm a liability."
  • "Get you wild, make you leave."
  • "I'm a little much for everyone."
  • "You're all gonna watch me disappear into the sun."
  • "Please could you be tender, and I will sit close to you."
  • "Let's give it a minute before we admit that we're through."
  • "I remember the rush when forever was us, before all of the winds of regret and mistrust."
  • "Our love is a ghost."
  • "Well I guess I should go."
  • "Alone with the hard feelings of love."
  • "God I wish I believed you when you told me this was my home."
  • "I light all the candles, cut flowers for all my rooms. I care for myself the way I used to care about you."
  • "I care for myself the way I used to care about you."
  • "These days, we kiss and we keep busy."
  • "Three years, loved you every single day."
  • "It was real for me."
  • "Now I'll fake it every single day 'til I don't need fantasy."
  • "I still remember everything, how we'd drift buying groceries, how you'd dance for me."
  • "I'll start letting go of little things 'til I'm so far away from you."
  • "Bet you wanna rip my heart out."
  • "Bet you wanna skip my calls now."
  • "Well guess what? I like that."
  • "I'm gonna mess your life up, gonna wanna tape my mouth shut."
  • "We're a loveless generation."
  • "We're a loveless generation; all fuckin' with our lover's heads."
  • "Know you won't remember in the morning."
  • "All the glamour, and the trauma, and the fucking melodrama."
  • "They'll talk about us, all the lovers, how we kissed and killed each other."
  • "We told you this was melodrama."
  • "You're walking out to be a good man for someone else."
  • "Sorry I was never good like you."
  • "Hated hearing my name on the lips of a crowd."
  • "Did my best to exist just for you."
  • "Bet you rue the day you kissed a writer in the dark."
  • "She's gonna play and sing and lock you in her heart."
  • "I'll love you 'til my breathing stops."
  • "I'll love you 'til you call the cops on me."
  • "I'll find a way to be without you, babe."
  • "I still feel you, now and then."
  • "When you see me, will you say I've changed?"
  • "I love it here since I've stopped needing you."
  • "I am my mother's child."
  • "We keep trying to talk about us."
  • "I'm someone you maybe might love."
  • "I'll be your quiet afternoon crush, be your violent overnight rush."
  • "I fall into continents and cars, all the stages and the stars."
  • "In my head, I do everything right."
  • "When you call, I'll forgive and not fight."
  • "Ours are the moments I play in the dark."
  • "We were wild and fluorescent, come home to my heart."
  • "Maybe all this is the party, maybe we just do it violently."
  • "You're not what you thought you were."
  • "Every night, I live and die."
  • "It's just another graceless night."
  • "I hate the headlines and the weather."
  • "I'm 19 and I'm on fire."
  • "When we're dancing, I'm alright."
  • "This is how we get notorious."
  • "We are young and we're ashamed."
  • "All of our heroes fading."
  • "I can't stand to be alone."
  • "Let's go to perfect places."
  • "Let's kiss and then take off our clothes."
  • "All the nights spent off our faces."
  • "What the fuck are perfect places anyway?"
  • "All the nights spent off our faces, trying to find these perfect places."

more universe swap ideas:

Sidney and Geno are dating, but one day they have an argument. Maybe it’s over a dumb penalty one of them took, and Sidney is chewing Geno out for it, and that led to Geno accusing Sidney caring more about hockey than their relationship. Sidney is mad enough to be in tears (how could Geno ever think that of him?) as he storms off to their bedroom and slams the door shut, and Geno is still pissed so he sleeps on the couch.

Then Geno wakes up in a universe where not only does he still play for the Pens, he’s the captain. But Sidney is nowhere to be seen. In fact, no one’s ever heard of Sidney Crosby. He begins to panic.

“You just fuck with me now,” Geno says to Flower. Tanger and some of the rookies give him a nervous look. “No, really, where Sid. Not funny anymore.”

“We don’t know who that is, G,” Phil says. “Really.”

He’s about to have a panic attack when the Pens PR suddenly come up and ask if he’s ready to go deliver the season tickets. Geno, in a daze, lets him kind of guide him wherever, and soon he’s on his way, with the team and the Pens admin, to a little suburban house. 

Geno does not want to deliver tickets, but he knocks and he’s ready to kind of shove the tickets at them and leave. Then the door opens and–

“Oh my God,” Sidney says. He’s in jeans and a Malkin jersey, but it’s Sid, his Sidney, not missing or dead and oh God, he’s right here. “You’re Evgeni Malkin. You actually came.”

“Sid,” Geno whispers. 

He’s about to pull Sidney in for a kiss when a little boy peeks out from behind Sidney’s leg. “Dad, that’s Geno,” the boy says in wonder.

Geno watches, stunned, as Sidney picks up the boy and kisses his cheek. “This is my son,” Sidney says, smiling broadly. “Come in, come in–”

And Geno is led into this bizarro world where he meets Sidney’s fucking husband, the rest of the kids, Taylor, and Sidney’s parents, and he has to pretend that he isn’t losing it watching his boyfriend live a suburban life. Apparently, in this universe, Sidney had not played hockey after Shattuck. He went to university in Pittsburgh, married his college sweetheart (the football captain, to be exact. He’s handsome and tall and friendly, and it’s clear that he adores Sidney. Geno hates him immediately), has three kids with him who all adore the Penguins, and teaches at the local elementary school. And it’s breaking his heart watching Sidney live this perfect life, and knowing that he has no part in it.

anyways i want those angsty movie scenes where Geno keeps asking Sidney out on not-dates. It’s getting late, and Geno’s driving Sidney back home after yet another dinner.

“Sid, wait,” Geno says, as Sidney’s unbuckling his seat belt. Sidney looks at him in question. “Don’t go yet.”

“I still have some papers to grade–”

Geno covers Sidney’s hand with his, in one bold, sudden move. “Please don’t go.”

Sidney looks stunned, then pained. “Geno,” Sidney says softly. “Geno, I think I know what this is.”

“Sid, please–”

“I have a family,” Sidney says. “You’ve been–you’re an incredible hockey player–and–and a wonderful friend, I mean–you’re Evgeni Malkin–”

“I love you,” Geno says.

Sidney bristles. “I’m going home, Geno,” he says coldly. “Good night–”


“Let go–”

“I’m show–” Geno fumbles with his phone, which miraculously had all the photos from his world. Photos of his Sidney kissing his cheek, of them lazing around after workouts, Geno and Sidney’s happiest moments. 

He presses play on a random video, startling Sidney into freezing as in-video Sidney’s voice asks cheerily, “Geno, what should we do on your Cup day?” 

“You captain,” in-video Geno responds. “You decide.”

“But it’s your day,” in-video Sidney whines. “Really, we can do anything. I promise.”

“Okay. You be nice to me all day.”

“I’m always nice to you.”

“No nagging. More kisses.”

“I don’t nag!” in-video Sidney laughs, then kisses Geno’s nose. “I just want your day to be perfect.”

“Everyday perfect,” in-video Geno responds, stroking Sidney’s cheek, as the Sidney on the screen softens considerably. 

“How is this possible?” Sidney whispers, entranced by the video. “Wha–I don’t–”

“I told you,” Geno says tiredly. “I’m boyfriend in other world.”

anonymous asked:


I’m so ashamed of this because 
- it’s one month late
- it’s actually slightly angsty (which I’m pretty sure is not what you had in mind)
- it’s kind of all over the place
I’d like to have some kind of excuse but I don’t
Pls don’t hate me too much

There is something quietly sad in the way Alec sometimes comes home and he’s exhausted, drained, can barely stand as he drags himself in the apartment, the door closing heavily behind him.

Keep reading

whatfallsaway  asked:

So I'm awake in the middle of the night. Currently 3am. Been awake since 1:30am. Too many thoughts. Got any late night Mulder/Scully heavy MSR phone call drabbles kicking around? Cause that would be great! 😍

So sorry you can’t sleep! I wrote this real quick so… here we go.

When the phone rings shortly after 3 am, Scully isn’t surprised and she doesn’t startle awake. Her hand reaches out and grabs the phone resting beside her like a spent, sleepy lover. She lets it ring another time not wanting to seem too desperate, too prepared.

“Scully, it’s me. I hope I didn’t wake you.” Mulder’s voice is apologetic and she wonders how long he’s fought against calling her. They haven’t seen or heard each other all weekend. In between cleaning her apartment, meeting her mother for lunch, and grocery shopping she’s stared at her unblinking phone, waiting in vain. When they didn’t have an official case, Mulder always found a reason to call her and to lure her away from home. Not this time. She considered calling him herself just to ask if he was all right. Her greatest fear, though never admitting that to Mulder, was that he would ditch her (again) and try to go out there alone. Now here he was on the phone. They would see each other in a couple of hours but something inside him must have given way, finally.

“Hm, it’s fine Mulder. What is it? Did you have a good weekend?”

“It was… yeah, I got a lot of things done around the apartment. No, to be honest I was bored. How about you?” She could lie, she knows, and tell him she had a wonderful weekend. Meeting her mother was nice, of course, but the rest of it? She’s missed him. She’s missed him more than she could put into words. It’s the middle of the night and he’s honest with her, so she wants to be truthful, too. It’s comfortable here in her bed and she feels protected by the softness surrounding her, by the nighttime, by the darkness.  

“It was nice enough,” she tells him, “but I was waiting for you to call me.”

“Missed me, huh?” He chuckles.

“Yes,” she whispers, “I did.” Mulder is quiet on the other side of the line and Scully wishes she could see him. She wants to know if he’s in his bed, too, or on his couch. What is he wearing, what is he doing? Warmth spreads through her, coloring her cheeks. This line of thinking is Mulder’s specialty, not hers.

“I missed you, too,” he finally speaks, “I tried not to call you knowing you have a, you know, life.” She stops herself from huffing; the only life she has, has had for years, is intertwined with his. Without him she doesn’t have a life.

“So do you, Mulder.”

“Do I?” She used to wish they had these conversations in the light of day when they were both fully awake. Now she realizes they never could. They need the vulnerability of nighttime, the possibility of dismissing their confessions as dreams; never happened, Scully, you must have dreamed this.  

“Mulder, you could have called me, you know.”

“I said I wouldn’t.”

“Since when do you do what you’re supposed to do?”

“I thought you wanted to spend a weekend away from life-threatening monsters for a change.”

“We can spend the weekend together without chasing monsters, ghosts or aliens.” Her breath hitches in light of her words. But it’s the truth.

“Can we?” His voice sounds vulnerable, scared almost. But there is hope in there, too; like a bright star shining in the darkest night sky.

“Yes, Mulder,” she answers softly, “I wish you’d called sooner. I have to be up in three hours to get ready for work.”

“I could come over. We could save gas driving into work together. Save some water, too, if we share a shower.” Scully hears his grin and she can’t help it, she smiles, too. Now she’s glad he’s not here and can’t see her. She isn’t sure they’re quite there yet.

“You could come over for breakfast.”


“Yes. But bring pastries.”

“I can do that. Anything in particular you want?” Just you, she thinks, swallowing the thought.

“No,” she says quickly, “surprise me, Mulder.”

“Gladly, Scully. See you soon.”

country-miles  asked:

Hey, I'm about to graduate from NUA Illustration and I'm scared as heck. Can I ask what you did when you just graduated? And you're back in Norwich now right, at Print to the People? Yay Norwich! Welcome back!

I am! It’s been a very interesting/intense time being back in Norwich! Congratulations on finishing uni! I think it’s understandable to be very scared of graduating, after having three years of structure in a safe bubble and then to be pushed out of this creative community that you’ve worked and built throughout those years. 

I’m going to tell you now something that no one told or warned me about graduation life from an art school: it’s very hard and oftentimes depressing and not good. I’m sorry this is negative but it’s true. From my personal experience, I moved back home to live with my parents in the countryside - which I am very grateful for - and got a couple jobs (Waterstones, a café/bar) to save money and get my driving license while I could work on my portfolio in my own free time. This process of moving back home is emotionally very hard, it feels like an unnatural regression, a step backwards, there’s also the guilt for feeling these things towards my parents and sometimes it felt like university never happened for me, because I was separate from my university friends and alone working in my bedroom, no longer surrounded in a studio by my creative peers. 

I did not apply for internships or creative jobs, I did not enter competitions, I did, however, take part in illustration/art festivals around the country (Bristol, Brighton, Hastings, London) to meet other artists and use these deadlines as motivation to continue making/selling my work. I kept the momentum up of making new work and putting it out there, I kept going back to Norwich to printmake and also had the luck of some friends working at the local college as printmaking technicians who let me use their facilities as well as print my stuff through their own press (Off The Press). 

Moving back home after university is very hard and no one else is going to tell you that. I also know from my friends who stayed in Norwich it hasn’t been easy, putting their artistic goals in the backseat while working, usually in retail, jobs that were just a way to pay for their rent and live. Graduation life is prioritising things, and sometimes feeling a bit like a failure, even though you’re not! It just happens, it’s life, we all need money to live and it takes time before the work we really want to make can become a living. 

I know a handful, or less than a handful, of people from my course who can make a living from selling their artwork, who went onto design internships (mostly in London) and seem to be doing well and making artwork and making money from that. Though it is also tricky with whether it’s the artwork they want to make, or have to make. 

I think some advice I would give is… to look for facilities or studios like Print to the People, if you are interested in print-making in different forms. Because there you get the same sense of community, of freedom and of creative productivity. You aren’t letting go of what you want to do and make and that you can do it. Look for these places in your hometown or where you plan to live, or you could do what I did and travel back to Norwich to printmake at Print to the People. I’d advise having a plan, because I didn’t really have one at the end of university, at least creatively for my career, Have a plan of what you want to do, who you want to work for, and go for it, apply. Because I think the hardest part of pushing yourself is simply DOING things like that. It’s also okay that your feelings about what you want to do change, your plan can change, as long as you keep your best interests in mind. 

It’s also okay to move back with your parents, it’s fine, it happens, but not to let the bad slumps get to you, to remember that there are people there for you, and to be kind to yourself in the situation you’re in. For two years I’ve been churning out artwork and thinking about my artwork at any time I’m not at work and I think it’s burnt me out a bit… so it’s okay to give yourself a break.  

Graduation life is a good time to reflect on what you really want to do, and to take your time, find your footing, and I really want to say this again, to be good to yourself. There isn’t a rush to become the next greatest artist or fashion designer or illustrator… but you need to remember that art schools push out hundreds and hundreds of graduates, just like you, every year. It’s easy to be washed away in the slew of new artists. So keep making, take this time to step back and think of what you want to do, what’s important to you, and take it one thing at a time to get there. A colleague I used to work with - a philosophy graduate - told me this while we were making coffee for customers and I was in a slump about my living at home and working in a cafê - “this is just part of the journey, so accept it, because you won’t be here forever, it’s just stepping stones and it’ll take as long as it needs to.” 

I hope this wasn’t too downcast or negative, I just want you to know what’s the truth and the truth is hard. And it’s good to remember that you’re not alone, all us graduates are in the same boat. 

All the best of luck to you, Helen! I could’ve written a lot more but I don’t think I would be able to stop, if you want to talk to me again about this by all means message me!

On delays, the rest of season one, and being whelmed.

Before I get to the post-proper, this is me offering a cyber high-five to anyone who got the “whelmed” reference!

Hello all!

Alex Brown here! Your friendly, neighborhood co-showrunner. First, I’d like to thank each and every one of you for supporting our show - when we released our first episode nearly a year ago, I figured it would be a fun side project to do with my friends, and that maybe some old college acquaintances who knew us would listen.

I’m over-the-moon ecstatic that I was wrong. Your response to our episodes, our characters, our music (which is the best part, let’s be real), and the humor we try to put in our stage directions is beyond anything I could’ve ever dreamed of. Throughout this past year, we’ve seen spectacular fan art, amazing fan fics, lots of fantastic theories, moodboards that fill my heart with more joy than I can express, and lots of other great things. As someone who’s lived the past six or so years as a frustrated writer who has struggled to get published, it’s been ridiculously fulfilling to see that I’m capable of helping to create something that people can genuinely connect to.

With that said, I want to let you all know where I’m at with a few of our processes, because, for me, the struggle right now is quite real. It’s not really a secret that one of our mini-episodes, Home, was influenced a lot by my own experience with depression. It’s certainly something that Etta has, too - but a lot of what’s in there are things I’ve felt for a long time. And, for me, some of those things still linger. 

I have mechanisms in place to help confront these thoughts. Other than on-going therapy, I like to put a lot on my proverbial plate to keep busy when I’m not in an introspective mood. My day job helps with a lot of that - during the school year I’m often in late-night meetings, or meeting with student groups on the weekend. I was hoping to have a little more free time this summer, but my day job seems determined to keep adding to my growing to-do list.

I’m also stage managing a show this summer, which has been lots of fun (and is totally my jam - I’m a way better stage manager than I am a stage actor, lemme tell ya). But the theater I’m working with is about an hour away on a good day, so there’s a lot of driving involved at the moment.

There are other things I’m trying to balance as well - getting another book written (as that’s been on hold for…about a year now), trying to make sure that my friends stay connected (being scattered around the country makes that a bit harder), trying to just… have some downtime and read a book, or watch The Bachelorette. All of these things are very important to my mental health - and all of these things haven’t been happening nearly as much as they should.

That was a very long-winded explanation of what’s going on with me, but I wanted to share that with you all, because I want you to know that I take this show seriously. It’s pushed me creatively, taught me new skills, made me a better writer, certainly a better actor, and I hope a better friend. I truly adore the community that’s been built around this podcast, and I can’t wait to see what you all think of the rest of season one!

And that’s what the point of this post is, I think. I have most of what I need for episode 11, but what I don’t have right now is a lot of time. As we’ve said lots before, I get individual audio from each actor, have to sift through all of their takes, and piece the puzzle together from there. It can take hours - sometimes, most of the time, it winds up taking days. Which is not a problem if I didn’t have lots of other time consuming obligations tugging me in their direction - but, here we are. I’m writing this note at 1:46 in the morning because I didn’t get back from rehearsal until 11:10 PM, caught up on The Bachelorette, and now have time to craft this note.

So, what I’m getting at is that we have sixteen planned episodes for season one, and we are very close to getting episode 11 out to you. I promise that I’ll try my best to get that done before June, but the show I’m stage managing opens right at the end of the month, so things might be a little hectic.

Once episode 11 goes out, we’re going to take another hiatus to prep the rest of the episodes. This time, I don’t plan to lift the hiatus until the rest of season one is edited and ready to be released. Unfortunately, I don’t have a timeline for you yet - and, seeing as how release dates seem to be a bit flexible when it comes to this show - I think it makes sense not to speculate right now. Once we know when episode 11 is coming out - and when the rest of season one will happen - we’ll let you know. I promise.

In the meantime, I’m hoping to get some admin stuff straightened out so we can start to sell our wonderful merchandise! The response we got to our designs was amazing, and I want to make sure that you all have access to that if you’d like to rep the show somehow! (And props again to Em and Eliza for the rad designs!). Once I get a handle on that, we’ll also launch our Patreon - but I want to make sure we have cool rewards for all of you, because you deserve the best! I don’t want to try to rush into things for the sake of having/doing them anymore - and I think waiting on these things will help us in the long run.

Wow, this note was much longer than I anticipated. Uhhh, so, yeah. We’re still here, and we will continue to make content and tell what we hope is one kick-ass story. It just might take us a while, and that’s 100% on me. I am but one person, and there are but 24 hours in a day. But we’ll get there together, one way or another.

So thank you, thank you, thank you for your support! You’ve made this whole experience into probably the best thing I’ve ever done, and I’m so glad you’re here. 

If you’re going to stay for a while and would like some chocolate fondue, I hear there’s some overflowing in the kitchen.



anonymous asked:

How are you today? I'm a lint time follower of yours and your amazing,could you do 17 with Jeff?

Awww you’re so sweet! I’m basically average today, how are you hunny?

17: “Are you upset with me?”

You put your earphones in before you walked out of class, grateful that the day was over and you finally got to go home.

It was nearing exam week and you were just exhausted from school, and no amount of afternoon naps or weekend sleep ins seemed to cure it.

You were distracted with choosing a song as you stepped out of the door, and you let out a little yelp when you walked right into someone. You were relieved once you looked up to find it was only your boyfriend Jeff, and you pulled out your earphones to greet him.

“Hey, Jeff, I-”

“Are you upset with me?”

“What?” You chuckled, “why on earth would you think that?”

“You’ve barely spoken to me all week. We haven’t been on a date, you haven’t sat with me at lunch… you’ve only sent me one meme in the last three days…”

“Baby, I’m sorry. I’m not upset with you at all, I’m just super stressed with school stuff right now- I don’t have a guardian angel Clay to help me through all this, ya know,”

“I can help you through it… I mean, not really, but I can cuddle.”

You chuckled at him. You really did love Jeff- he was so sweet and sensitive. He took care of you, even when you spent a week basically ignoring him… he was the greatest thing you had ever been able to call yours.

“Well,” you grinned, “why don’t we go back to mine and we can cuddle while I study, and then maybe if you’re lucky after that we can study” you winked at him and made your way to his car.

game-of-grump  asked:

EgoBang Prompt: Arin and Dan used to be a couple in high school. They broke up sometime before graduation and never saw each other again. Many years later, at a high school reunion, they spot each other from across the room. (I'm so sorry I just love stuff like this *wheeze*)

This quickly spiraled into something much longer than intended. Oopsies. Also, a lot more angsty than expected. Thank you for sending in the prompt! A note: Arin and Dan graduated the same year and are both in their late twenties here.

Dan had a lot of regrets in his life. He regrets not pursuing his music like he really wanted growing up, listening to his parents’ advice instead and getting a job at a firm. He regrets drifting apart from them, only connecting with them during the holidays anymore. He regrets all the stupid shit he did while doing pot, mostly losing his job with said big firm, which stuck him in a dead-end, low-paying office job he hated. But his biggest regret, the one that has caused him the most pain throughout his lifetime, was standing just across the gymnasium, holding a cup of fruit punch.

Dan’s mouth was dry, and he quickly downed his own punch as he attempted to get past the sick feeling in his stomach. He didn’t want to talk to Arin. Hell, he didn’t even want to look at him. He tossed his cup into the nearest trash can and quickly searched for an exit. Since the refreshments table was right near the doors, it figured he had to be blocking the main exit. His only other choices were the fire exit or the bathroom window. Neither were the greatest of options, but he figured the bathroom window would be the quieter, and less douche-y, option.

Having made up his mind, Dan started making his way through the crowd of his former classmates. He gave a few nods to the ones he had already spoken to and some he hadn’t. He was so close, feet away from the restroom, when he heard a voice call out his name.

“Danny!” Ross called and Dan stopped, instinctively glancing towards Arin. His head had perked up, eyes searching the room. Dan quickly ducked behind a large inflatable palm tree, actually grateful at the moment for the stupid tropical theme. He leaned against the wall, letting out a sigh of relief.

“Dude, what’re you doing?” Dan turned his head to see Ross standing off to the side, staring at him with an eyebrow raised and his arms crossed. Dan shrugged.

“Enjoying the festivities?” He offered, gesturing vaguely in front of him. Ross scoffed.

“Sure. Did Jenny Fillmore get hands-y with you again? Is that why you’re trying to hide by the men’s room?” He asked, peering around the palm tree. “Cause she’s pretty distracted right now. No worries.”

“No, I-” He shook his head. “I just… I saw someone I didn’t want to talk to, is all.”

Ross blinked. “Wait, who? I mean, I know Jenny’s a handful, but I thought you got along with everyone in our year. That was literally your thing.”

Dan bit his lip, fingers automatically reaching up to toy with the ends of his hair. “I guess. Look, it’s no big deal. I don’t feel well, anyways. I’ll just go home and-”

“What?” Ross took a step forward, shaking his head. “No, you can’t leave. You just got here.” He narrowed his eyes, looking Dan up and down. “You were fine a minute ago. Who was it? Did they just get here?” Ross started to peer around the palm tree again and Dan grabbed at him.

“No, Ross, just-”

Oh,” Ross said and Dan slumped back. Dammit. He glanced back at Dan, smirking slightly now. Fucking dammit. “It’s Hanson, isn’t it?”

“No,” Dan snapped, face heating up. Ross’ smirk only widened.

“Oh really? So you won’t mind if I called him over here, then?” Ross made a move to step towards the crowd and Dan’s hand shot out, grabbing onto his arm.

“Don’t you fucking dare,” Dan growled.

“Yeesh, calm down.” Ross peeled his hand off his arm, fixing his jacket. “I wasn’t actually going to do it. I’m not that much of a dick.”

Dan frowned, slumping back against the wall and closing his eyes. “Yeah, sorry. I just-” He sighed and rubbed his face. “It’s been ten years since we last spoke. And the last time we spoke…” He trailed off, nausea back to clawing at his insides. He swallowed hard, shaking his head. “I just wanna go home, man.”

“You can’t avoid him forever, Dan,” Ross said, voice soft. Dan opened his eyes to find Ross’ smirk gone, replaced with a look of pity. Dan looked away, fingers tugging at a curl by his ear.

“I can’t talk to him, Ross. He won’t want me too, anyway,” Dan said, giving a half-hearted shrug. “It’s not worth it.”

“You were in love with the guy. Sounds pretty worth it to me.”

“Yeah well, things change.” Dan stood up and gave Ross a hard look. “Excuse me. I need to use the bathroom.”

“Dan,” Ross started but he shoved past him, pushing the door to the men’s room open and letting it slam behind him with a satisfying boom.

The only other man in there, some long-haired dude with a crop top on he’d never seen before, gave him a frightened look before hurrying out the door. Dan glanced after him, unsure if he had just frightened someone into running away.

Shrugging it off, he walked over to the sink. He leaned against the white marble, leather jacket crackling as he leaned forward. His eyes looked tired. Frankly, that’s all he felt these days. Tired of his job. Tired of the same dates with the same kinds of people. Tired of the dismal mess his life has become. He’s so fucking tired.

He rubbed his face again, his forehead pressed against the glass. He really could just leave. Slip out the bathroom window and make up with Ross later. He would forgive him. He knew he would. Their friendship had survived worse. But, he knew/ if he left now, he’d regret it. And as tired as he was of his life, he was more tired of having regrets.

With strength he didn’t think he had, Dan stood up straight and stepped back up to the door. He closed his hand around the door handle, fingers digging painfully into the metal as he took a deep breath. He could do this. He had to. He went to pull the handle, when the door was suddenly pushed open from the other side, smacking him in the face.

He stumbled back, hand flying up to grab at his nose. He screwed his eyes shut, the pain flaring through his whole face as he felt blood start dripping on his hands. Shit, he really hoped it wasn’t broken.

“Oh fuck!” A voice said, obviously startled. “Oh shit, dude, are you okay?” He managed to force his eyes open slightly, squinting at the slightly blurry form in front of him. When he finally managed to grasp who it was, however, his eyes shot open fully, a curse ready on his lips.

Arin didn’t seem to catch on as fast. He stepped forward, making an aborted moment to reach for Dan’s face, before turning to the paper towel dispenser. “I’m so, so sorry. Is your nose alright? It’s bleeding pretty badly.” He snatched up a paper towel and held it out towards Dan, eyes scanning over his face for any other wounds. Dan swallowed hard, carefully taking the paper towel from Arin’s hand so as not to touch him, before switching it with his hand.

“I- Yeah, I’m alright,” Dan said, grimacing when a bit of blood fell on his bottom lip. “Could I get another?”

“Oh! Yeah, I got it.” He quickly swiped his hand back in front of the paper towel dispenser, grabbing at the towel impatiently. “Here. Really, I’m so sorry. I didn’t realize someone was right there.” He shifted his weight, wringing his hands nervously as Dan awkwardly attempted to wipe his other hand off.

“It’s fine. No worries.” Dan was honestly impressed that he managed to keep his voice even, even as he felt the sudden need to throw up. He swallowed again, refusing to up end his lunch over this.

“So,” Arin said, watching Dan toss the bloodied paper towel in the trash. “I don’t remember you. Were you in the senior class? Or are you someone’s date?” He smiled warmly at Dan, which only made him feel worse. He glanced down, pressing the other paper towel tighter against his nose. More pain shot like a wave through his face and he grimaced.

“Yeah, I was in your year.” He said slowly. If he could drop dead now, it would be awesome. Anything to avoid talking to the boy who broke his heart so many years ago. Who didn’t even remember/ him? Boy, was that an indicator.

“Oh, you must have looked way different,” Arin said, chuckling as he gestured at him. “I don’t remember anyone as hot as you in my year.”

Dan yelped as his grip inadvertently tightened around his nose. His eyes watered from the pain, and he forced his hand to relax. Arin was flirting with him. Why the fuck was the universe so cruel.

He cleared his throat, waving away the obvious concern on Arin’s face. “I’m alright. Just touch the wrong part.”

“Should you go to the hospital?” Arin asked, stepping closer. “It looks pretty bad.”

Dan immediately took a step back, shaking his head. “No, it’s fine, Arin. I’m fine. It just feels bruised is all.”

Arin frowned, the worry in his eyes not abating. “Well, I still think you should get checked out. You could just not be able to tell.”

“Why don’t you let me decide that?” Dan snapped, instantly regretting it when Arin’s face dropped.

“I- you’re right, I’m sorry.” He swallowed, eyes flickering towards a stall before glancing back at Dan. “I’ll just-” He gestured back at the door instead, taking a step back. Dan quickly held up a hand, unable to stop himself.

“Arin, wait.” He licked his lips, trying to ignore the copper on his tongue as he spoke again. “You- You really don’t remember me?”

“Should I?” Arin asked, looking Dan up and down again. Dan felt his face start to heat up again. “What’s your name, again?”

Dan stared at him a moment, hand dropping to his side. He could barely form the words. Barely wanted to. “Dan. Dan Avidan.”

The moment Arin realized, Dan wanted to fall to his knees in relief. His eyes went wide, mouth dropping open just a little as his gaze swept over him yet again. This time, however, his gaze lingered on his face, tracing over his features with such careful precision it was if Arin was comparing them side by side. The giggly, carefree teenager versus the haggard, depressed young adult. He must look so different now, he realized. Not just his appearance, but his personality seemed to have done a complete 180. No wonder Arin hadn’t recognized him.

“Dan,” Arin said, voice full of this disbelieving wonder Dan wasn’t sure what to make of. He made a step back towards him, but Dan stepped back again. Arin’s frown came back quickly.

“Long time, no see,” Dan said, giving Arin a hesitant smile. Arin just stared at him again, as if he’d appeared out of nowhere. Dan cleared his throat, unable to hold Arin’s gaze for long. “So, you remember me now, I see?”

“You’re not someone I could forget,” Arin said, and Dan closed his eyes. This was exactly what he wanted, and that’s what made it so painful. He took a deep breath, forcing himself to open his eyes again and meet Arin’s.

“It sure seemed that way before.” He said like he knew he needed to. The wound of that night had left had never really properly healed. Even ten years couldn’t erase the look on Arin’s face as he told him they needed to break up. That they needed to focus on their own lives and not try to make this work.

“It’s not worth it.” Arin had said, eyes cold. “We need to live our lives. We can’t pretend this’ll still work while we’re off at college.”

“I don’t care!” Dan had yelled, voice breaking as the tears started to fall. “I love you, you idiot! It doesn’t matter to me if we were on opposite sides of the world! I want you.

Dan could still feel the way his heart shattered in his chest when Arin had walked away from him. He half expected him to just turn around now. Abandon him like he had all those years ago. But Arin didn’t budge, his body seeming to sag with the weight of what he’d done to them. He swallowed, staring at Dan as if the words wouldn’t come to him. He swallowed again, fists clenching at his sides.

“I never forgot you,” Arin said, his voice rough. He shook his head. “I never could. You know how many times I wanted to call you? How desperately I wanted to ask you to take me back? My heart broke the day I left you.”

Dan dropped his hand from his nose, tossing the soaked paper towel in the trash. He turned back to Arin, fingers itching to hold onto him in some way. He shoved them in his pants pockets instead. “Then why did you?” His voice sounded small, even to him. He wasn’t bothering to hide his feelings anymore. The hurt and the pain was just falling out of him now. He was pretty sure he was going to start crying soon if this kept up.

“I thought,” Arin gestured absently at him. “You wouldn’t want to deal with it all. The pain of long distance. I thought it was better for us not to have to.” He took another step forward, but this time, Dan didn’t move. “I was wrong, Daniel.” Arin breathed, eyes wide and pleading. “I was so, so wrong. You can’t imagine how sorry I am I did this to us.”

“You’re not the only one who let it go, Arin,” Dan said with a sigh. “I ignored your calls. Pushed you away. I didn’t even give you the time of day after.”

“And I don’t blame you,” Arin said. “You didn’t deserve to have my stupid ass begging for your hand. It was pathetic.”

“A little bit, yeah,” Dan said, smiling slightly. Arin smiled back and Dan felt his stomach relax a little. “I- I missed you, you know.”

“I missed you too,” Arin said, pausing before gesturing at Dan’s face. “Well, I didn’t miss you earlier.”

Dan blinked, taking a moment for him to catch on. He snorted a laugh, grimacing when the pain hit again. “Shit, ow. Yeah, you hit me pretty good.”

“You sure you don’t want to go to the hospital?” Arin asked, and Dan sighed.

“Yeah, I’m sure. I’ve had worse.” He leaned back against the wall. “If you were attempting to knock me out, you suck at door fu, though.”

Arin’s smile widened. He held a hand over his heart. “You wound me, Avidan.”

“You started it, Hanson,” Dan shot back, giggling.

“Touché.” Arin bit his lip, glancing away for a moment. “Would you… I know you’re probably with someone and I don’t really want to try to immediately jump back into things with you cause that’d be really stupid and-”

“Arin,” Dan interrupted, catching Arin’s eye again. “I’d love to get to know you again. If you’d let me.”

Arin relaxed instantly, nodding. “Yeah. Yeah, I’d love that.”

Dan smiled, something nicer filling his chest this time. “Me too.”

Who We Used to Be (4): Peaceful

Izaya doesn’t call again until the evening.

It’s easier to wait, now. He has some sense of what reception he will be met with; not the abrupt panic of his first call, nor the sharp-edged rejection from Shizuo of the second. I can talk to you when I’m free, Shizuo had said, and so Izaya waits: through the early hours of the morning, when productivity grows with the increasing illumination of the daylight, and the long warmth of the afternoon, when Shizuo will be out in the city at work or eating lunch with Celty, or Tom, or Kadota. Izaya’s been gone for six months but his knowledge lingers, the weight of observation collected over the span of a decade still clings to his mind and rises for his consideration the moment he reaches to unearth it from his past. This is when Shizuo likes to stop for the hour break from intimidating and sometimes actually punching people; this is when his energy flags, as the sun sinks towards the horizon, when Izaya could draw closer than at other times due to Shizuo’s worn-out distraction. This is the best time for a fight, as the sunset is flaring crimson out across the city sky and Shizuo’s temper is worn thin by a full day of more-or-less restraint; and this is the best time to interrupt him at dinner, to make directly for the front door of his apartment rather than wandering the city streets. Shizuo will be at home, now, Izaya thinks as he watches the sun slide below the horizon, as he watches the light of day fade into the deep purples and blues of falling night; this is when Izaya would leave Shinjuku, on those days when his blood ran shivery with heat in his veins, when the electricity along his spine demanded lengthier satisfaction than rushed friction and gasping breaths in a secluded alley. By the time he was climbing the stairs to Shizuo’s apartment the other would be finishing dinner, would be just settling into what he expected to be a peaceful evening before dropped heavy-limbed and warm into bed; and Izaya reaches for his phone instead of for the handle of Shizuo’s door, and dials a number instead of turning a knob.

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anonymous asked:

jikook: 23, 33, 43; yoonmin: 25, 36, 43(we all know "i stayed up all night talking w jiminnie" but anyways :')), 42, 44; taekook: 2, 41, 42 :) sorry, it's kinda packed but you write the best hc and i'm really curious TT, you can answer only one from each if it's too much

Keep reading

Taylor Swift Songs
  • Tim McGraw: Who was your first love?
  • Picture To Burn: Who's picture would you like to burn?
  • Teardrops On My Guitar: Who's the guy/girl who doesn't notice your feelings?
  • A Place In This World: Do you know your place yet?
  • Cold As You: Who's got that heart of stone?
  • The Outside: Do you feel like you fit in anywhere?
  • Tied Together With A Smile: What are you battling?
  • Stay Beautiful: That guy/girl you're hardcore crushing on?
  • Should've Said No: Who seriously wronged you?
  • Mary's Song (Oh My My My): Did you have a childhood friend/crush?
  • Our Song: What is your song? What does it mean to you?
  • I'd Lie: Do you have feelings you'd never admit?
  • I'm Only Me When I'm With You: Someone you're not afraid to be your complete self with?
  • Invisible: Did you ever have a crush who never found out about your feelings?
  • Perfectly Good Heart: Did someone ever lead you on?
  • Fearless: When were you fearless?
  • Fifteen: Favorite memory from freshmen year?
  • Love Story: Have you ever had a forbidden love?
  • Hey Stephen: Did you ever write a song about somebody?
  • White Horse: Did somebody you were dating ever date another person behind your back?
  • You Belong With Me: Did you ever win your crush over?
  • Breathe: Have you ever lost somebody important to you?
  • Tell Me Why: Has somebody ever treated you poorly?
  • You're Not Sorry: Has somebody ever hurt you so badly you just can't forgive them?
  • The Way I Loved You: Who do you define as "perfect"?
  • Forever & Always: Did somebody ever break up with you when you thought things were fine?
  • The Best Day: How would you describe your relationship with your mother?
  • Change: Has somebody ever changed your life for the better?
  • Today Was A Fairytale: Have you ever had a valentine?
  • The Otherside of the Door: Did you ever hold back something you really wanted to tell someone?
  • Untouchable: Have you ever felt like somebody was out of your reach?
  • Come In With The Rain: Have you ever waited on somebody special?
  • Superstar: Who do you idolize? Why?
  • Thug Story: How gangsta are you?
  • Crazier: Has somebody ever made you lovesick?
  • Beautiful Eyes: Favorite eye color?
  • I Heart ?: Did you ever have a persistent admirer?
  • Mine: Have you ever had a really great relationship?
  • Sparks Fly: Has somebody ever made you feel vulnerable while in love?
  • Back To December: Is there somebody you would like to apologize to?
  • Speak Now: What's something you want to say right now?
  • Dear John: Who should have known?
  • Mean: Have you ever been bullied?
  • The Story Of Us: Ever had an awkward run in with somebody you were avoiding?
  • Never Grow Up: Do you wish you could be a little kid again?
  • Enchanted: Who were you enchanted to meet?
  • Better Than Revenge: Did another girl ever steal your boyfriend?
  • Innocent: Is there something you wish you could change/erase?
  • Haunted: Does somebody haunt your thoughts?
  • Last Kiss: Did you ever lose somebody who was really great to you?
  • Long Live: What great thing will you remember for the rest of your life?
  • Ours: Have you ever had a relationship where people tried to change your mind?
  • Superman: Has somebody ever been "too busy" for your relationship?
  • If This Was A Movie: Is there somebody who never came back?
  • Safe & Sound: Have you ever felt unsafe?
  • Eyes Open: Was there ever a time you had to watch your back constantly?
  • Ronan: Do you have any younger siblings?
  • State Of Grace: Have you found the one yet?
  • Red: Is there somebody you're still trying to forget?
  • Treacherous: Has somebody ever made you want to be a little risky?
  • I Knew You Were Trouble.: Have you ever been another notch on somebody's belt?
  • All Too Well: Is there something you remember too well?
  • 22: Who are your best friends? Favorite moment(s) with them?
  • I Almost Do: Is there somebody you've thought about calling again?
  • We Are Never Ever Getting Back Together: Have you ever had an on-again, off-again relationship with somebody?
  • Stay Stay Stay: What kind of relationship do you dream about?
  • The Last Time: Have you ever wondered where your relationship was going?
  • Holy Ground: Has somebody ever kept you on your feet?
  • Sad Beautiful Tragic: Are you missing somebody right now?
  • The Lucky One: Who do you think is the lucky one?
  • Everything Has Changed: Has somebody ever made you feel butterflies?
  • Starlight: What was the greatest date you've ever been on?
  • Begin Again: How do you feel about love?
  • The Moment I Knew: The worst birthday you've ever had?
  • Girl At Home: Do you know somebody who is a serious player?
  • Come Back... Be Here: How do you feel about long distance relationships?
  • Sweeter Than Fiction: What is your biggest accomplishment? Did anybody tell you you wouldn't reach it?
  • Welcome To New York: What is your favorite city?
  • Blank Space: Do you have a long list of ex-lovers?
  • Style: Something you think that will never go out of style?
  • Out Of The Woods: Did an outside influence ever ruin one of your relationships?
  • All You Had To Do Was Stay: Did somebody ever lock you out after letting you in?
  • Shake It Off: How do you deal with haters?
  • I Wish You Would: Did you ever end a relationship on an argument?
  • Bad Blood: Do you have bad blood with somebody?
  • Wildest Dreams: Have you ever had a sensual relationship?
  • How You Get The Girl: What would win your heart over?
  • This Love: Have you ever had to let somebody go? Did they come back?
  • I Know Places: Where are your hiding places?
  • Clean: What's the hardest thing you've overcome?
  • Wonderland: Have you ever gotten lost in love?
  • You Are In Love: Has somebody ever made you feel like you were the only person in the world?
  • New Romantics: What would your scarlet letter be?

anonymous asked:

can u list all kiho moments where Kihyun is feeding Wonho and vice versa? (: thanks

oh god sorry this took so long to do fml :/ also i might not list all moments since i always go by what’s on my blog already but let’s get it. and bc i’m extra ima rank it

#1 - the iconic kihyun feeding wonho trope listen i can’t express enough how much i love how kihyun’s leaning, opening his own mouth as he’s feeding wonho and wanting to watch shownu and changkyun but also making sure he’s feeding wonho properly we love domestic bfs

#2 - i just love this one, like the way ki turned around with that smile on his face and wonho got up all cutely and he extra dripped in sauce for wonho really just deck me or smth

#3 - this is adorable okay they been at this kihyun feeding wonho thing for a long time now like it’s their thing. around kihyun wonho suddenly can’t feed himself he just can’t.

#4 - firstly lets appreciate how domestic this is dispatch really got my back. second this one just makes me laugh bc wonho’s holding on to food and kihyun’s just like “nah hoseok i’m feeding you” mood really. i’m also minhyuk minding his own damn business 

#5 - i’m including this bc this is technically them feeding each other :/ this remains one of the greatest kiho mystery because they were all meant to have gone home for chuseok?? but then the same day or day after i can’t remember, pretty sure it was the same day they posted this?? and i died or smth.

Supermarket Flowers - Part 2

Summary: part two of the Supermarket Flowers short series. Reader visits the hospital after being very sick and receives some heartbreaking news.

Supermarket Flowers Part 1 

Warnings: very very emotional, crosses a very touchy illness

Word count: 1479

You woke up the morning after your date with Peter, and after 9 hours of sleep, you still felt exhausted. You slowly slipped away from Peter’s arms, sitting up and rubbing your eyes. A dull aching had started in your lower back as well, but you’re not really sure where that came from.

Peter groans and reaches for you, wanting you to come snuggle back up to him. “Y/N come back to beddd” he whines, desperately trying to pull you back.

“I’ll be back in a sec babe, I gotta go take some medicine, I have a back ache.”

Still being half-asleep, Peter laughs at you, “haha you’re such an old woman.”

Laughing soft and shaking your head, you walk downstairs to find a note from your parents. They got back home late last night, but had left early again to go to work and would be back in the afternoon.

Smiling at the note, you took a few painkillers and washed it down with water and a piece of toast. As you were leaning on the counter to rest your back, Peter walks up behind you and wraps his arms around your waist.

“Feelin’ any better, cutie?”

You groan, shaking your head, still just as tired as you were before. “I dunno Pete, I’m just really tired still, and my back hurts all of the sudden. But I haven’t worked out lately or anything like that.

Peter sways with you slowly, kissing your head and massaging your back. “Why don’t weeee go lie down a little more and then maybe you’ll feel better? It’s Sunday so we don’t have to rush to school.”

You nod and wrap your arms around Peter’s neck, jumping up and wrapping your legs around his waist, too tired to even walk. You had to admit you were kind of nervous, you’ve never been this tired before in your life.

Peter holds you up firmly and walks back to your room, laying you back down and shutting the blinds to block all the light. Grabbing your favorite fuzzy blanket, he lays back down and spoons with you, holding you tight and snuggling with you, making sure you’re nice and warm.

A few hours later you jolt awake feeling the sudden urge to throw up. Untangling yourself from the blanket and Peter’s arms, you run to the bathroom as fast as you can and throw up in the toilet, trying your best to hold your hair back.

Startled at all the commotion, Peter jumps awake and runs to your aid, holding your hair for you and tying it up in a messy bun. Running a wash cloth under cold water, he wrings it out and gently holds it across your forehead to keep you cool.

“I’m sorry you’re sick baby, do you think it was the food from last night? Oh my god I feel so bad.”

Shaking your head, you push yourself up and grab your toothbrush, cleaning your mouth out and wiping your face. “I don’t think it was the food, I just don’t feel right.”

Peter helps you walk to bed and lays you down, tucking you in nice and tight. As you close your eyes and drift off to sleep almost immediately, Peter picks up his phone and calls your parents.

You wake up a few hours later (or so you thought) to Peter shaking you gently. You groan and rub your eyes, looking around to see that you’re in a car.

“Peter? How did I end up in a car?”

“Well you’ve been asleep for a few days and and we got really worried so so your parents are driving us to the hospital,” he explains as he sits in the seat next to you, taking your hand and holding it tight.

You close your eyes and nods, feeling the least bit sick when the car jolts your stomach around. Curling up in your seat, you snuggle in the blanket and doze off again until you get to the hospital.

When you arrive, Peter helps you get out and you stumble a little, your legs being weaker than you thought. Holding onto him, you walk into the doctor’s office and wait for your name to be called.

You sit in the examination chair, worn out from all the tests they just ran. You had explained to the doctor how you’ve been feeling, and you saw the concerned look cross his face when you described how quickly it had come on. 

Fidgeting with your bracelet, you hear the door handle click and the doctor walks in, a look on his face that told you some bad news was coming. You felt all the butterflies start swarming in your stomach, and you looked at your parents nervous.

The doctor sits down at his chair and turns to face you. “Y/N this is something you’re not going to want to hear, and I wish I didn’t have to tell you. If you’d like, your parents can stay.”

You nod to your parents and Peter exits the room to give you all a minute, sitting on the bench right outside the room, drumming his leg up and down nervous.

Holding your parents’ hands tight, you look at the doctor, “Please let’s just get this over with. Whatever it is I can take it.”

The doctor flips through his papers and stops at one that looks like a result from a scan. “Some of the tests we ran allowed us to see what’s going on inside your body. We looked through the scans, and we found … advanced stomach cancer. As of now, life expectancy is still unknown. We’re looking at treatments and we’re seeing what the options are to take care of it as soon as w-”

You zone out and stare at the floor, completely destroyed by what the doctor has just diagnosed. This couldn’t be happening. You were healthy as a horse, nothing was wrong!

Your eyes start to swell with tears as you put your head in your hands, holding back sobs. Your entire life had been turned upside down, and it felt like your heart was being ripped apart.

After a minute of talking, the doctor exits the room to give you a moment with your parents, and they immediately pull you into a warm embrace. Holding onto them for dear life, you bury your face and let it all out.

Peter hears you crying and jumps up quick, pacing back and forth in front of the door, wondering whether he should go in or not. After about thirty seconds, he opens the door and quietly walks in, a frightened look on his face.

“Y/N? Wh-What’s what’s going on? Is everything okay?!” he questions, sitting in front of you in case you need him for support.

Pulling away from your parents’ arms, you collect yourself as best you can and turn to him. “P-Peter I I have uhhmm … a-advanced stomach c-cancer.”

Unable to hold it together for too long, you break into a sob again and Peter sits there frozen, trying to understand it all. After a few seconds he pulls you into his firm grip, hugging you tight and swaying with you, keeping it together to stay strong for you.

“Baby I’m I’m so sorry th-this can’t be happening.” Playing with your hair, he pulls you into his lap to be able to hold you as tight as he can.

After a few moments the doctor comes in with a small pile of packets and infographics to get you introduced to specific treatment options, and suggestions of which path you should take. Your parents thank him, and Peter helps you walk to the car while they pay for the visit.

Back home, Peter lays with you in bed and holds you tight, playing with your hair and humming your favorite song to keep you calm. As you slowly calm down, he smiles soft at the slowing of your breath, but keeps a close watch on you to make sure nothing goes downhill.

Not even five minutes later, you are sound asleep on Peter’s chest, and he’s holding you staring out the window. Finally able to let it all out, Peter breaks down, silently sobbing and clutching you close to him. How could this happen? How could his greatest passion be fighting for her life without any warning?!

Peter’s heart was breaking, no, shattering into millions of little pieces. He vowed to himself silently that he would spend as much time as he possibly could with you, and to never leave your side again.

Holding you tight against his chest, Peter falls asleep crying. He thought things were tough now, and he couldn’t even begin to fathom what the next few weeks of hell would be like. For now, all he could do was hope and pray.

i hope you all are continuing to enjoy my story! part three should be out either tomorrow or the day after, as i am trying to finish this series up before school starts back up, just so i don’t leave you hanging. 

please feel free to give me feedback … what you liked, what you didn’t like, what could be better. i’d love to hear your thoughts! thank you so much! 

anonymous asked:

I just wanted to know on a level and while I'm still dealing with these things time to time I have to ask if you do too and if it effects your family or you and love You don't have to answer me like I said I have respect for you but a curious similar mind has to ask


I’m sorry that you’re still struggling with this.

I don’t like to talk about this in real life or with my readers, Tumblr is like a safe spot where I can be the raw parts of me or the hidden parts of me, not all of me– but, that hidden part I only like to touch in order to remove it? If that makes sense.

I wouldn’t call myself a rape survivor, I stayed in a house with a family friend turned caretaker that molested me for a few years between 8-13, and as far as that went, or I guess as far as penetrative sex went, that was oral sex. There was other stuff, but the oral sex really messed me up, and I don’t know why that is.

I wasn’t unnecessarily unwilling victim, I wanted his attention. I wanted a near forty year old’s attention because I was eight and didn’t get it at home. I wanted someone who gave me affection and only had eyes for me, I really wanted to be someone’s child and didn’t know how to go about that,

I definitely drew a lot of comfort from being his favorite at first, before things became sexual. Even then it’s kind of muddled, I was really fucked up at that age emotionally and very alone, and now that I’m older I can see how he took advantage of that but I don’t want to go into a lot of details.

I remember stupid things, like that I wouldn’t go into my Papa’s hospital room when he was dying because I was too afraid to be around a man alone. I stopped letting my stepdad brush my hair after I took a shower because that caretaker shit on every innocent interaction in my life. I regret things like that.

I still struggle with it sometimes in my sex life, no one can believe you when you just say that you don’t enjoy oral sex and you wouldn’t like to receive it, and it obviously causes me a great deal of discomfort and I still get nauseous over it if someone tries– it’s very obvious that it’s a quick mood killer. And again, there’s this stupid stigma that it’s the greatest thing out there, hahaha
so it’s hard to just brush off your complete lack of desire towards it… that gets weird sometimes.

It’s embarrassing for me still. I haven’t had to share this with anyone I’m intimate with, thankfully, aside from the first time someone tried since my caretaker and I unfortunately panicked and punched at them, and it was a mortifying situation for me and quite possibly them as well. The person I share my daughter with knows, and tries to be respectful of how paranoid I am about choosing caregivers.

It strained the relationship between my sister, and I and it strained the trust I could have had in a relationship with my parents because some of me I guess blamed them for a long time.

It also strained a lot of faith in adults that I had growing up, because the first time anyone figured something was off was his wife (who has two young daughters), who sat me down and called me absurdly sexual for an eleven year old, and blamed me for seducing her husband and how unnatural it was that I’d sparked so much affection in him. I remember he had me take off everything but my underwear and do sit ups in front of him and his friend from work, and the man never said anything either, he was one of my mom’s closest friends.

It still affects me. The wife messaged me a couple of months ago saying she missed me and wondered if I remembered her, because she felt like she “shaped who I am today.”

I wanted to tell her she did.

I don’t like to be touched by older men, I don’t like to be left alone with men. I don’t like certain terms of endearment. I don’t trust people to watch my daughter, and I have a very hard time choosing babysitters. The other day she busted her lip swinging and told me when I asked how she did it, “it’s a secret and I can’t tell you, I don’t want you to get mad at me,” and I didn’t think a set of words could trigger me before so hard but I was so angry that that’s how the situation had been told to her to cover up the story behind her busting her lip (which was just the niece of the babysitter pushing her off a swing) that I fired my babysitter. A small thing, so small but I’m so worried about someone mistreating my child now, that I am very quick to overreact about situations and it could quit possibly be why I have a hard time coparenting. I lack trust.

I can’t stand the smell of French vanilla candles. They make me sick. Guns N Roses were his favorite band.

Sometimes if sex is too gentle and it’s with a man I start focusing on it too much and get sick, and shaky, and I feel this weird heat in my face and shoulders like when your sick, cold sweat, disgust. I generally can only have rough sex, I have to be completely distracted or it sneaks up on me sometimes.

I don’t know what to tell you, honestly, except that you’re right. My mom knows now and that surprisingly helped a lot, with how I felt. She said she had suspected something, so always trust your gut.

These are a couple of the things I still struggle with, and that maybe sometimes you see in my writing, but honestly I think I’m doing very well and I’ve learned to cope over the years with setbacks. Trauma is trauma, it’s hard to let it go at the strangest times. I hope your struggle becomes easier as well.

Draco Malfoy x Muggle Girl
  • Draco x Muggle Girl
  • Draco Malfoy walked the streets of London. He was far away from the Malfoy Mansion and his family.
  • The boy had a lot on his mind, he was torn between what is right and wrong. Draco was sure he is a bad person, doing terrible things and that he is just like his father. He didn't realize he couldn't be someone else even if he wanted to. Lucius and Narcissa tried their best to raise him in a proud pureblood wizard, worth of his family name.
  • But Draco Malfoy wasn't a bad guy. No one who doubts in his actions and questions if he did a right thing or not could ever be a terrible person.
  • The truth was, Draco wasn't the saint, not even close, tho he tried his best to be better in the past few weeks.
  • Why? Maybe because he felt this guilt inside him.
  • One can only imagine what Draco went through his years. He couldn't betray his family name, his father and aunt Bellatrix were both Death Eaters and Draco knew long ago, he will be asked to join them once. Not like he had a choice, if he turned them down, he'd not only risk his own life, but his parents too.
  • And now Draco was wondering, he knew the day of him becoming a Death Eater was coming close.
  • He made a few steps down an empty street. The houses were nothing like those of the wizards, muggle's have quite of a strange taste, he thought.
  • It was a beautiful and peaceful day in July, the weather was perfect and it seemed like everything in the world is going just fine. But it didn't.
  • Draco took a deep breath as he sat on the bench in the park. He was looking at his feet, while his hands rested on his knees.
  • Silence was broken by a laughter which made Draco look up from the ground.
  • His eyes searched across the trees until they landed on a girl, not far away from him. The girl was smiling, her eyes were full of happiness, something what Draco's missed for a long time.
  • Everything on the muggle girl spoke she wasn't a witch. She wore short jeans and white Chuck Taylor's and Draco couldn't help but admit the red shirt she was wearing really complimented her long (y/h/c) hair.
  • The girl laughed again, as a dog brought her a tennis ball. She picked it up and threw it in Draco's direction.
  • And then it hit Draco's head. It didn't hurt pretty much, but still Draco rubbed the side of his head while he stood up.
  • The girl's eyes widened.
  • "Oh my gosh, I am so sorry!" She shouted as she rushed to Draco.
  • "Are you okay? I really didn't mean to throw it at you." She spoke softly.
  • As she was closer, Draco noticed her beautiful (y/e/c) eyes and a few freckles spread across her nose and cheeks.
  • She was pretty, he thought.
  • "Um, it's okay." Draco blurred out. He picked up a green ball, turning it around and watching it closely.
  • He saw that for the first time in life, until then he only knew for the Quidditch balls.
  • He went to pass her the ball, but before he could do that the dog jumped on him.
  • "Marley! Stop it, leave him alone." The girl shouted as Marley winged his tail, looking at Draco.
  • Draco smiled and patted his soft fur.
  • "I'm (y/n)." The girl spoke suddenly and Draco looked up from Marley.
  • "..I'm Draco." He smiled.
  • "That's your name?" She questioned and then Draco reminded his name wasn't used in the muggle world.
  • "Yeah, um it's kind of a nickname.."
  • "Oh..cool." The girl said and smiled again.
  • From her eyes to her mouth there was this positivity she had, the kind Draco has never seen before. Like she was smiling all the time and couldn't stop.
  • "Is this your dog?" Draco asked.
  • "Yes, I found him two years ago on Christmas. Someone must have had abandoned him and then I took him home. We're inseparable ever since." (y/n) said.
  • Draco smiled. "Do you live near here?"
  • (Y/n) nodded. "Just around the corner. But I never seen you around here."
  • "Yeah, well I'm from Wiltshire." Draco replied.
  • You nodded. You looked up at him, in his eyes. He was different from you and all others you have met. He smelt of peppermint and warm ocean breeze. Draco, even his name was strange, beautiful, but strange just as him.
  • "Are you visiting someone here, or..."
  • "No, no I just wanted to get away from.."
  • Silence. Draco was out of words, should he tell a total stranger about his family? What he feels? Would she judge him? Think he's a coward and arrogant?
  • As his gaze fell, your lips curled in a slight smile. He wasn't shy, you thought, he was more of a thinker and a loner. The one who keeps their mind for themself and reveals nothing to the world. You suddenly realized he was hurt. In his eyes you could see the sadness and despair.
  • "I understand," you spoke, "I to get away from time to time too."
  • Draco looked up at you and smiled.
  • "Care to join me and Marley on a walk?"
  • Draco nodded "I'd be glad to." He replied and you two continued on walking.
  • Draco told you about his strict parents, about his doubts and fears. You realized all people he told you about had strange names and it felt like Draco lived in another world. Yet, you understood him. You could feel what he felt. Fear or letting other people down, fear of disapproval and not becoming what you want to be. The person who you really are.
  • "Sometimes," Draco said "the greatest fear of mine, is being myself."
  • His eyes were staring up in the sky, like they were looking for something.
  • He then sighed and gave you a broken smile.
  • "You shouldn't be afraid of who you are and what you fear, Draco. Even if you did bad things, that doesn't make you a bad person."
  • The two of you continued on walking, talking about your families, friends and the world around you. Draco was very sweet and nice person and even if he told you he wasn't you truly believed he was.
  • It was getting darker, you and Draco forgot about the time and stars already appeared in the sky.
  • "I'm really glad I met you." Draco said.
  • Marley sat at his legs, looking up and begging for his attention. "Both of you." Draco added and patted your dog.
  • "The pleasure is ours Mr. Malfoy." You said and he chuckled.
  • "I hope I see you around (y/n)."
  • You nodded slightly. You too, hoped on seeing him again. But there was this feeling that you won't.
  • Again Draco's gaze fell, but this time he wasn't silent.
  • "You are the only one that thinks there is something good in me. I appreciate that, (y/n), really. You are the kindest person I have ever met."
  • That gave you chills. It wasn't the typical compliment one gives you when you first meet him. You smiled at him before you spoke "I'm sure I'm not the only one, Draco. And you really are a good person. I feel...I feel like I've known you for years. And I believe there is more good than evil in you."
  • The street lights went on and there was only you, Draco and Marley. It was like a dream, standing there, looking up at Draco who looked like he was made in heaven.
  • You couldn't believe how someone like him felt so bad about himself. Why couldn't he see what you saw.
  • "There should be more people like you. At least there where I come from. But today, here with you, I felt so much better. Like I'm in another world." Draco spoke.
  • His eyes were telling he was being completely honest to you and you were honored.
  • You took his cold hands in your warm ones and your heart was no longer the center of your body, but in that moment every conscious part of you was in the hand that Draco held.
  • "We cast a shadow on something wherever we stand, and it is no good moving from place to place to save things; because the shadow always follows. Choose a place where you won't do harm - yes, choose a place where you won't do very much harm, and stand in it for all you are worth, facing the sunshine." You said, before you let go of his hands, knowing well you will never see him again, even tho every single inch of you hoped that you will.
  • 📚Quote by
  • E.M.Forester,A Room With A View