i've never had one so i don't know for sure but uh

ain’t no sunshine

for @timepetalsprompts ‘bed sharing’ trope. originally had a cracky interlude with donna, but sort of got too long (it still exists somewhere, though). fluff. and a little bit of crack and angst. ten x rose reunion fic.


He came around slowly; blinked a couple of times and attempted to focus on the mild haze of peachy and yellowish pinks in front of him. His head throbbed dully and persistently, inducing the vague feeling of nausea, which ricocheted upwards to his dizzy head. Feeling inexplicably warm and fuzzy, he let his eyes fall closed. When he opened his mouth, what escaped was a somewhat throaty sigh.

Instantaneously, a voice came drifting.


(Oh, what a nice voice. What a nice voice.)

“Donna, d’you know.” He slurred, tongue stiff and clammy in his mouth, “You sound JUS’ like Rose.”

Keep reading

nessaelanesse  asked:

Hey, I'm really sorry to bother you and I hope I'm not out of line but I just read your newest post about your stomach and I'm curious... Do you have any idea what's wrong? See, I've got something similar and for the last year and a half I've been living on rice, chicken and the few veggies that don't make me sick. I've lost a third of my original weight, but all the doctors I've gone too have no idea what's wrong! Which is why I'm asking. I hope I'm not out of line and I wish you the best day!!

Not a damn clue. My diagnosis currently ranges from “you’re overweight try losing weight” (no longer valid since I dropped fucking 20lbs in a month and likely wasn’t valid for most of my symptoms to begin with) it’s “just” IBS (a chronic condition unto itself which too few people including doctors seem to realize and dismiss as non life impacting simply because it’s “common”) leaky gut caused by allergies (previously thought to be celiac but repeatedly tested negative for) chronic GERD (somewhat more under control than it was to the point when I am off my meds which worsened the other symptoms) vocal chord dysfunction (previously misdiagnosed as asthma which before that was misdiagnosed as purely anxiety when in fact the reason I was panicking was because I couldn’t breathe) “it’s just anxiety” (which yes I have anxiety, but I’ve realized a LOT of it was being caused by allergies causing a near constant adrenaline response so that was fun. Nice to know I was on sedatives as a teenager because no one bothered to listen to me when I said eating XYZ hurt), hormonal problems (despite my hormones always being “normal”), and last but not least “I mean, it could be fibromyalgia or an autoimmune disease, your symptoms are kind of hard to pin down”. That latter part being a direct quote from a doctor. 

I’ve also had severe issues with my teeth, which since I have switched to a holistic dentist, have largely been resolved. (Still in pain, but every time he does something my health bounces up a notch so it’s a process I’ll be working with him toward fixing over the next few years. He even suspects I might have been getting mercury poisoning from some seriously dangerously over the limit leaking amalgam fillings I got in my early teens. He’s also the only dentist willing to remove my root canal teeth because they’ve never fully healed.)

So. Yea. I have some of my own possible theories that it might be SIBO which many doctors here in the US seem reluctant to even admit is a real thing (my current dr certainly doesn’t and will not test for it despite it being an easy culture test to do) and some possible genetic fuckery/immune system bullshit. Both my parents are extremely ill people with very similar issues, my dad even has an autoimmune disease he doesn’t care enough to even remember the name of so I can’t just narrow the field and test directly for that. Thanks dad.

The difference between me and them is I am actively trying to get a diagnosis and claw some semblance of health/sanity back before I turn into a hermit resigned to dying young. 

A big thing for me seems to be allergies/intolerances which have sprung up in the last few years. (Rice is the first thing doctors recommend for eating “plain” food but it’s actually a huge trigger food for a LOT of people) Eating only organic seems to have helped (suggesting a preservative allergy, which my allergist just kind of said “I believe you, but there’s no reliable test for it so just…don’t eat them”) 

Which is where you find me at now, two years down the rabbit hole of trying to get an accurate diagnosis. As for asking questions, it’s entirely okay to ask questions. I’ve pretty much wound up documenting my chronic health issues because a) it was helping me to keep track of things and then b) my blog got popular due to shenanigans and then a bunch of other people started going “HEY ME TOO” and we’ve created a sort of exhausted support group for each other and also c) the number of people who message me on a daily basis to tell me it helps them to know they are not alone is just…I’ve cried twice today at some of the messages I’ve gotten, and at the time of typing this it’s not even noon. 

I do not mind being public with any of this because gods help me if someone can figure out some small puzzle piece of their life from me falling apart then in some small way it will be worth it. Cause I know what that feeling is like. And I wouldn’t wish it on anyone. Chronic health issues are so incredibly isolating.

So yea…next step I’m off to see a natruopathic/functional medicine doctor (yes I made sure they are licensed physicians and not just crazy hippies) in the hopes that she might have some answers for me, or is at least willing to listen to me, which uh, yeah, the more you refuse to accept suffering to be your way of life, many doctor’s don’t seem to appreciate. I had my GI doctor tell me I shouldn’t google my symptoms and just accept the fact that the meds he prescribed for the chronic GERD would dissolve my intestines which, hahahahah, ha. No. I do not accept that. Not even a little bit.

anonymous asked:

I don't know if the drabble offer is still on the table, but since you mentioned being a HP writer... the HP/YOI stories I've seen feature Yuuri as a Hufflepuff or Gryffindor. Give me a Slytherin Yuuri, please? ;D

Yuuri sighed at the line of new first years already pushing each other and trying to prove why they would be the best Slytherins that Hogwarts had seen in a generation.  That this time Slytherin was going to win the House Cup and it would be all because of them.  One even insisted that they were going to replace whoever was the Seeker on the Quidditch team, which okay, if they really thought they could, more power to them, he guessed though Yuuri had no intention of giving up his spot on the team.  He’d been the Seeker since Year Three.  Yuuri ran his hand through his hair and straightened his tie and robe.

“I’m Yuuri Katsuki, and as one of the Prefects for Slytherin, I’ve been assigned to show you how to get to the Slytherin quarters in the Dungeons.  Please don’t dawdle and don’t get lost.”

One of the first years who was on the smaller side, even for a first year, got in front of him and crossed his arms.  “You can’t be Yuri.  I’m Yuri.  There can only be one Yuri.”

“Right.  Ok.  I can call you First Year Yuri and you can call me Prefect Yuuri.”  Yuuri looked away, that first year definitely seemed to have the ambition down, but seemed to not have quite much else.  “Just follow me.  If you get lost, just call for the Baron and he’ll lead you to where you need to go, just don’t ask him why he’s bloody.  He doesn’t like that.”



Yuuri looked up from his Charms text.  Phichit was launching himself at him at full speed.  He braced for impact from the 5th year Gryffindor.  For good reason, Phichit wrapped his arms around his neck and used Yuuri to stop himself.  “Have you figured out how to get around the wifi and 4G ban?  I really want to post some selfies to instagram.”

“When I do, I’ll be sure to tell you since you posting selfies on instagram is sure to lead to Gryffindor losing all the House points and then you’ll definitely not be winning the House Cup this year.”

“Yuuri, that’s so mean!”

Yuuri poked the new, shiny Prefect badge on Phichit’s robe.  “How you ended up with one of those I’ll never know.”


“I’m your new Charms professor, Professor Nikiforov!  Professor Viktor?  No, I guess that Professor Nikiforov is probably the right way to go.  I trained at колдовсторец, before winning the iCaSC for five years in a row.  I’m really looking forward to working with you, especially since you’re my N.E.W.T. level students.”

Yuuri sighed and hid his face behind his Charms textbook.  Viktor Nikiforov was the best Spellcaster in the world and he was going to be the new Charms teacher?!  He’d hoped to compete against him in the iCaSC one day.  Yuuri didn’t know if this was the best thing that could have happened or the worst.

“Mr Katsuki?”

Yuuri yelped and dropped his textbook.  Viktor… no, Professor Nikiforov’s face was just inches from him own, and Yuuri could see the flecks of deeper blue in his ocean colored eyes.  He swallowed heavily.

“Mr Katsuki, will you show me your ice sculpture spell?  I hear it is quite phenomenal.”  Professor Nikiforov’s smile was absolutely blinding and Yuuri felt his heart thump hard in his chest.  

“Uh… okay.”  He could do this.  He could impress his idol Viktor Nikiforov with the ice charms that he’d been developing as part of his N.E.W.T. project!

колдовсторец - that Russian Wizarding school…
iCaCS - international Charms and Spellcasting Competition

I haven’t written HP in like FOREVER so I hope this is ok. :)  [Also I wanted to keep the age differences in there so Viktor is a professor – sorry if that makes you uncomfortable, but well, I wrote a lot of teacher student back in HP.  *shrugs*.  The age differences aren’t perfect, but they’re close. BTW Yuuri is a 7th year.]


  • ❝ Uh, do whatever you want, I'm super dead! ❞
  • ❝ You have a symmetrical face. If I took a meat cleaver down the center of your skull, I'd have matching halves. That's very important. ❞
  • ❝ Ring ring, hello? Oh, hold on, it's for you - it's second place. ❞
  • ❝ You know that I ain't bragging. ❞
  • ❝ I'm reading this from Wikipedia, so it has to be true. ❞
  • ❝ Let's hatch a plot blacker than the kettle callin' the pot. ❞
  • ❝ I bet I've got til lunch at least before everyone sees I'm a spaz! ❞
  • ❝ I'm not very hungry - just gimme a double Polar Burger with everything and a cherry soda with chocolate ice cream. ❞
  • ❝ Missed your midterms and flunked shampoo! ❞
  • ❝ Hey turn around, bend over, I'll show you where my shoe fits. ❞
  • ❝ Is that unfair? -- Oh wait, I don't care. ❞
  • ❝ The truth is that you're such a dork, you kinda make it cool. ❞
  • ❝ We got more balls than the team we cheer for! ❞
  • ❝ Miss Goody Two Shoes makes me wanna barf. ❞
  • ❝ Even mocking cheerleaders cannot hide the emptiness in my soul. ❞
  • ❝ They're dogs! No! Lower than that, they're fleas on dogs! ❞
  • ❝ I'm a trust fund baby, you can trust me. ❞
  • ❝ The dinosaurs choked on the dust, they died because God said they must. ❞
  • ❝ Happy kitties, sleepy puppies, tiny duckies, sparkly ponies... ❞
  • ❝ My teen angst bullshit has a body count. ❞
  • ❝ Give my love to the leprechauns. ❞
  • ❝ I thought you were a spoiled, rich, uptight little white bitch now I think you're just white. ❞
  • ❝ I am tired of living alone with my cat! ❞
  • ❝ You drink a lot of Red Bull, don't you? ❞
  • ❝ If I get blood on the carpet my mother will kill me. ❞
  • ❝ Some say that I'm a pompous creep - somehow I don't lose that much sleep. ❞
  • ❝ Such a blunder. Sometimes it makes me wonder why I even bring the thunder. ❞
  • ❝ Shakin' at the high school hop. ❞
  • ❝ I've got lots of experience with not fitting in. Do you need some pointers? ❞
  • ❝ Ugh. You've got a left hand, use it. ❞
  • ❝ Showing up here took some guts, time to rip 'em out. ❞
  • ❝ Keep that pelvis far from me! ❞
  • ❝ Thanks, but I don't need voices in my head today. ❞
  • ❝ You don't wanna hear all the horny details. ❞
  • ❝ I gotta go get my asthma spray... ❞
  • ❝ Your perfume smells like your daddy's got money. ❞
  • ❝ Does your mommy know you eat all this crap? ❞
  • ❝ Jesus, you're making me sound like Air Supply. ❞
  • ❝ Language, honey child, please. ❞
  • ❝ Like a beautiful blonde pineapple. ❞
  • ❝ I don't rat my hair! ❞
  • ❝ My dog speaks more eloquently than thee. ❞
  • ❝ Damn, you're in worse shape than the national debt is in. ❞
  • ❝ You're my last meal on death row. ❞
  • ❝ I've got a big butt, well so what? It's good as any other! ❞
  • ❝ I led a protest march against insensitive cartoons! ❞
  • ❝ Some people are SO touchy. ❞
  • ❝ Mama gave birth to the hand-jive. ❞
  • ❝ It's hot in here and kinda smells like someone wet the bed... ❞
  • ❝ Oh... I wanted to answer the puppy question? ❞
  • ❝ You're absolutely right - should have shot him in the mouth, that would've shut him up. ❞
  • ❝ I haven't slept since 1992. ❞
  • ❝ Malum in se is an action evil in itself. Assault, murder, white shoes after labor day. ❞
  • ❝ You need a cite a more specific grievance. Here's an itemized list of all these years of diagreements. ❞
  • ❝ Donate my car to crippled kids, or to those ghetto moms on crack. ❞
  • ❝ I'm, like, gonna cry - I got tears comin' outta my nose! ❞
  • ❝ Keep your filthy paws off of my silky drawers. ❞
  • ❝ Color me stoked. ❞
  • ❝ Yo, who the f is this? ❞
  • ❝ You've got the best friggin shoes! ❞
  • ❝ Keep it positive as you slap her to the floor! ❞
  • ❝ Come on! Let's go krunkin' in the parking lot! ❞
  • ❝ I've come of age to be a raging castrating bitch! ❞
  • ❝ I'll be Socrates throwing verbal rocks at these mediocrities. ❞
  • ❝ Really stick it to the phallocentric war machine! ❞
  • ❝ Must we all descend into madness? ❞
  • ❝ It's a work of genius. I couldn't undo it if I tried.... and I tried. ❞
  • ❝ Dear God... it's scented. ❞
  • ❝ Fuck me gently with a chainsaw. ❞
  • ❝ So go on, here's my head, just hit it with a rock. ❞
  • ❝ I want a devil in skin tight leather. ❞
  • ❝ You've come so far why now are you pulling on my dick? ❞
  • ❝ You know, for a greasy little nobody, you do have good bone structure. ❞
  • ❝ You ain't never caught a rabbit. ❞
  • ❝ Honestly, it's kind of draining... ❞
  • ❝ I just did what you wished you could but you don't have the balls. ❞
  • ❝ I'm dazzling! Magnificent! I am the one percent! ❞
  • ❝ Now what I'm going to say may seem indelicate... ❞
  • ❝ I'm gonna French kiss with tongue like I dreamed I'd do - and not just with my pillow! ❞
  • ❝ It's like hearing a ticking sound coming from unmarked packages! ❞
  • ❝ Someone's had their morning coffee... ❞
  • ❝ We're what killed the dinosaurs! ❞
  • ❝ I don't know what you heard, but whatever it is, they started it. ❞
  • ❝ Fine, okay, I'm gay! ❞
  • ❝ You can set my bones and I know CPR. ❞
  • ❝ Immigrants - we get the job done. ❞
  • ❝ Man. What rich, romantic planet are you from? ❞
  • ❝ Whaaaaaaat. ❞
  • ❝ What can I say? I'm a sucker for a happy ending. ❞
  • ❝ Fuck me gently with a chainsaw. ❞
  • ❝ Awesome... wow. ❞
  • ❝ I'm bigger than John Lennon! ❞
  • ❝ I will kill your friends and family to remind you of my love. ❞
  • ❝ If you're going for mediocre, you've done great! ❞
  • ❝ Alright, we can't break out of here, but we sure can break a sweat! ❞
  • ❝ Gotta be going to that malt shop in the sky. ❞
  • ❝ It's got groove! It's got meaning! ❞
  • ❝ When I fight I make the other side panicky! ❞
  • ❝ That is a metro hetero jerk! ❞
  • ❝ Love is like forever this is no time to economize! ❞
  • ❝ Their thinkin' is stinkin' and a little outdated. ❞
  • ❝ I'm probably too cool for you, so friend request denied. ❞
  • ❝ You're on Jiffy Pop detail. ❞
  • ❝ I don't have to always be right - when I'm with you, I just am. ❞
  • ❝ I'm raisin' hell and I'm a felon in a four foot frame. ❞
  • ❝ Guys who wear that get beat up on my street. ❞
  • ❝ It's like making love to you all night, NO WAIT! It feels so much better! ❞
  • ❝ No sleep for you, better chug that Mountain Dew. ❞
  • ❝ All I got was a running nose and Asiatic flu. ❞
  • ❝ You ain't no friend of mine. ❞
  • ❝ We have fought on like, seventy-five different fronts. ❞
  • ❝ I'm not freaking out, I'm really okay, I'm totally chill. ❞
  • ❝ If your Irish boy tires of you, you're allowed to shoot him in the knees. ❞
  • ❝ You ever see somebody ruin their own life? ❞
  • ❝ The more you jump around and scream, the sexier you seem. ❞
  • ❝ Peachy keen, jellybean. ❞
  • ❝ Both your hair and shoes are flat. ❞
  • ❝ Lookin' hot, Cream of Mushroom! ❞
Why Taimi is awesome~
  • [Origin of Madness – at Twisted Marionette]
  • Taimi: Hi hi hi. Are you a friend of Braham's? I am. Or rather, I will be. Soon.
  • -
  • Taimi: Braham! There you are.
  • Logan Thackeray: Somebody care to tell me why this child was on the battlefield?
  • Braham Eirsson: Hey! I'm not a child!
  • Logan Thackeray: Not you. This asuran girl. I found her out there, trying to get to Scarlet's twisted marionette. Who does she belong to?
  • Braham Eirsson: Oh. Her.
  • Taimi: Help! Help! Save me from this creepy human!
  • Logan Thackeray: It's okay. I'm a Krytan Seraph. The kid's in no danger.
  • Taimi: Braham! Don't let him take me away! Please!
  • Logan Thackeray: Are you her guardian?
  • Braham Eirsson: Who me? Wolf's teeth, no! I've never seen her before in my life.
  • Taimi: Braham, you're so mean. Can't we just go home now?
  • Logan Thackeray: Listen, buddy. I don't know what your game is, but you better get this kid to safety. She's got no business on a battlefield.
  • Braham Eirsson: What? I swear I've never seen her before in my life.
  • Braham Eirsson: Hey! Where's he going? You're not my responsibility!
  • Taimi: It's okay, Braham. You can take me home now. I live in Rata Sum.
  • Braham Eirsson: Huh? What?
  • Taimi: Where do you live? Maybe we could go there instead.
  • Braham Eirsson: No. You found your way here. You can find your way back.
  • Taimi: Fine! Here I go. By myself. Off into the big city. You'll probably never see me again, Braham.
  • Braham Eirsson: Good luck, kid.
  • -
  • Logan Thackeray: What does a little squirt like you know about Scarlet, anyway?
  • Taimi: As it so happens, I know a lot. I've been studying her for months. I came to meet her, but she didn't show up.
  • Marjory Delaqua: To meet her? Why would you want to do that?
  • Taimi: Because she's brilliant, of course. My theory is that she knows something about the dragons, and that's why she's building an army.
  • Logan Thackeray: Your theory, huh? You don't think she's just a big ol' meany?
  • Taimi: Do you always talk like a four-year-old?
  • *Burn Logan BURNNN*
  • --
  • [Edge of the Mist]
  • Braham Eirsson: What's your story anyway, Tiny? How does a little thing like you get into such big trouble?
  • Taimi: It's Taimi. And I'm a progeny prodigy. I've got important people fighting for the right to be my teacher.
  • Braham Eirsson: Important people, huh? Are they real people, or just big-eared figments of your overactive imagination?
  • Taimi: They're real, but they all want to tell me what to learn. I'd rather be like Scarlet and pick my own courses.
  • Braham Eirsson: Wolf's tail, girl! Don't be too much like Scarlet, okay? One's way too many.
  • -
  • Taimi: Braham? Are we still going to be friends when we get back?
  • Braham Eirsson: Wait—are we friends now?
  • Taimi: I think so. You don't boss me around as much as other adults. And when you ask a question, you let me answer it.
  • Braham Eirsson: Well, I'm friends with Frostbite and he can't even talk. So yes, Tiny. We'll still be friends.
  • Taimi: Not if you keep calling me "Tiny."
  • -
  • Taimi: Braham, will you tell me a story while we wait?
  • Braham Eirsson: After you ran off on me? And all the abuse you heaped on me since we got here? I get plenty of that back in Cragstead.
  • Taimi: You don't spend much time around asura, do you? We only abuse people we like. Or those we're trying to improve.
  • Braham Eirsson: Fine. I'll assume you like me. Ahem! "Once upon a time, there was a brave and handsome norn named Braham..."
  • Taimi: Aww, I've heard this one already. From you. Twice.
  • --
  • Braham Eirsson: Did you get in trouble for roaming the camp?
  • Taimi: No. Yes. Zojja gave me extra calculations as a punishment, and I never got to see Scarlet.
  • -
  • Taimi: Hey, Braham.
  • Braham Eirsson: Uh-huh.
  • Taimi: You wanna hear about the new aetherphaser I invented for my golem? I modeled it after Scarlet's tech.
  • Braham Eirsson: Uh-huh.
  • Taimi: It works just fine, but I have to keep adjusting the gorometer.
  • Braham Eirsson: Uh-huh.
  • Taimi: I had to shave down the minious array wheel in order to get it to fit on Scruffy, but I got it.
  • Braham Eirsson: Uh-huh.
  • Taimi: Next, I'm gonna make him a panmetric listening device so he can warn me in advance if someone's sneaking up on me.
  • Braham Eirsson: Uh-huh.
  • Taimi: Hey, Braham.
  • Braham Eirsson: Uh-huh.
  • Taimi: I like you because you're big and dumb.
  • Braham Eirsson: Uh-huh.
  • Braham Eirsson: (laugh) Shut up!
  • Taimi: (giggle)
  • --
  • [Gates of Maguuma]
  • Taimi: That structure is unstable. It would be unwise for us to go in. Scruffy's scan confirms that it won't support all our weight.
  • Taimi: According to my calculations, the most efficient combination would be you, Marjory, and Kasmeer. The rest of us can wait out here.
  • Rox: Did she just call us fat, Braham?
  • Braham Eirsson: Yup, she sure did.
  • Taimi: Facts are facts. The three of us together weigh as much as nineteen Kasmeers.
  • Kasmeer Meade: Great, I'm a unit of measurement.
  • --
  • Kasmeer Meade: That gap is too large. I can't get us across from here.
  • Taimi: Have no fear. The option to have Scruffy toss us over is still—
  • Rox: No.
  • --
  • [Prosperity’s Mysterious Room]
  • Taimi: Look, look, look! This is a historical find!
  • Marjory Delaqua: Careful, now. You'll pop a gasket.
  • Taimi: She hasn't been here in a very long time. This—oh, and that! Great glarrgh!
  • Marjory Delaqua: Language.
  • Taimi: Sorry. I didn't know you spoke ettin.
  • --
  • [Entanglement]
  • Taimi: Okay. It's all yours. Use the console to fry some Inquest.
  • Braham Eirsson: It isn't going to blow up in our faces, is it?
  • Taimi: Don't be silly. The chances are so slim as to be negligible. About..oh, fifty-three percent. I've tagged us all nonhostile.
  • --
  • Taimi: Hold on. Activating defenses.
  • Marjory Delaqua: You're absolutely sure this won't kill us?
  • Taimi: Absolutely. I'd give it a solid fifty-three percent chance.
  • Marjory Delaqua: I beg your pardon? Maybe you shouldn't—
  • -
  • Kasmeer Meade: It's...beautiful.
  • Marjory Delaqua: And we're still alive. That's a plus.
  • Taimi: Of course we're still alive. I was joking about the the fifty-three percent. It was more like seventy-eight.
  • --
  • [The Dragon’s Reach]
  • Taimi: Don't touch anything!
  • Councillor Phlunt: Progeny, do not speak to your elders in such a tone! I won't have it.
  • Taimi: I thought you'd never get here. Did you stop off at the Dead End for a pint and a pie or something?
  • -
  • Taimi: Well, Councillor Phlunt, I'm sorry to report that I've completely wasted your time and the waypoints will now be destroyed by Mordremoth.
  • Councillor Phlunt: What?
  • Taimi: Just kidding. My patent-pending waypoint recalibration device is now complete.
  • -
  • Taimi: I've checked and double-checked the settings on everything. I'm 59.6 percent certain nothing will blow up in our faces. Don't worry.
  • --
  • [Credit: GW2 Wiki]

anonymous asked:

Mumen rider, saitama, and metal bad for awkward confession scenarios fufufu

Awkward confession scenarios

Mumen Rider:

Mumen Rider’s bike was frequently broken or completely destroyed the villains and mysterious beings he faced off against, so he’s something of a regular at the local bike shop.

A bell chimed as he entered, lugging his poor bike behind him. There were a few other people in the shop who smiled and greeted the hero kindly. The person behind the counter saw him and grinned, “Well if it isn’t my favorite customer! What’s the damage this time?”

Mumen Rider hoisted the bike onto the counter, “The uh, rear tire sorta got ripped off.”

“Do you still have the tire or does it need to be replaced?” They asked while inspecting the bike.

“No, a mysterious being ate it,” he scratched the back of his head in embarrassment.

“I think there’s a tooth wedged into the chain,” they pulled out a pair of forceps and pried it out and examined it briefly before handing it over, “Here, now you have a testament of your bravery, not that anyone was doubting you or anything.

“Anyway,” they continued, “the dérailleur and dropout will need to be replaced, too. Anything else you need done?”

“N-No, that’s it,” he watched as they hauled the bike over to the work table in the back. His gaze lingered on them for a moment longer. He frowned, he lied to them. There was one more thing, but now that he was here, he wasn’t sure he could ask it.

He’d known this person since before he even became a hero, but they didn’t get very close until after he did. They were always very supportive of him and helped him out when he was first getting started by giving him a “hero discount” and coming to the shop before it opened/after it closed to do emergency repairs for him.

Everything they’ve done has meant the world to him, so he thought it might be nice to return the favor… With a date. Okay maybe that was still more of a benefit to him than anyone else, but it was all he had thought of.

A hand waving in front of his face brought him out of his thoughts. He blinked and looked to the source, (y/n). He smiled sheepishly, “Oh, sorry about that.”

“Don’t worry about it, I’m sure a hero like you had a lot on his mind. That aside, I’m finished with the repairs,” they replied.

Mumen Rider pulled out his wallet and eyed the bill, it seemed suspiciously low again; no doubt another hero discount.

After the repairs were payed for, (y/n) waved him off, “See you later!”

He pursed his lips, it was now or never, “Yeah, how about tonight? F-For a date?”


Whenever Saitama has downtime, he can usually be found at home relaxing. He heard the landline ringing and was about to get up to answer it, but Genos got to it first.

“Sensei, the call is for you.”

“Oh?” He got up and walked over and took the phone from Genos, “Hello?”

“Hey Saitama! It’s me, (y/n)!” They were an old friend of his

He smiled slightly, “Oh, hi (y/n), what’s up?”

There was a little laughter from them, “Well you see, I was making cookies and the recipe said it only made two dozen, but it lied and now I have four dozen cookies and counting. Anyway, I wanted to know if you would like some?”

“I’m on my way,” with that he hung up and got ready to go.

“Sensei where are you going, did something hap-“ but he was already out the door.

(Y/N)’s cookies were his favorite so he was not about to pass up a chance like this. In only a few minutes he was knocking at their door.

“Hey Saitama, you wasted no time getting over here,” they chuckled and opened the door to let him in. The smell of fresh baked cookies filled the air. “Thanks for coming over on such short notice.”

“Thank you for giving me cookies, are you sure you’re okay with just giving these away?”

“Hey, you helped me move my new couch in, so now we’re even.” They walked into the kitchen and brought out a box full of cookies, “Here you go, there’s about two dozen in there.”

“Thank you, but I still feel kinda bad about just taking them,” he thought about it for a moment. “Hey what if I took you out sometime?”

Their eyes went wide, “Like a date?”

“Yeah, sure.”

Metal Bat:

“What about this one?” Metal Bat asked, holding up a pastel purple dress.

“Mm-mm, I like the pink one more,” Zenko stated matter-of-factly. She continued sifting through the clothes in front of her, humming happily to herself. Metal Bat smiled at her and eyed the surrounding, looking for something else that she might like.

“Hey Badd, isn’t that your girlfriend/boyfriend over there?” She tugged on his pants and pointed at someone walking past the store.

“Huh? I don’t have a-“ he paused when he saw who she was pointing at. That was (y/n). He huffed, “They aren’t my girlfriend/boyfriend, Zenko.”

“Then why are you blushing?” She smiled knowingly.

“I am not!”

“Yes you are! Stop being stubborn!”

“Hey you two,” (y/n) grinned as they walked up to them.

“Oh, hey (y/n),” Metal Bat was silently hoping they hadn’t over heard their conversation. He glanced at his sister and saw the smirk growing on her face. She made eye contact with him, he shook his head, ‘don’t you dare’.

“Hey (y/n), did you know that my brother has a-,“ Metal Bat clamped his hand over her mouth. She licked his hand and pulled it away, “huge crush on you!”

They looked at Metal Bat, who was now completely red in the face. He opened his mouth to say something but quickly closed it, having no idea what to say right now.

“I-Is that true, Badd?” (Y/N) was clearly surprised by this and seemed to be just as shocked as Metal Bat.

“I- Uh, yeah,” he sighed, “Yeah it’s true… I don’t suppose you’d like to go out some time or whatever, would you?”

“I would love to, I’m free later if you want to do something then,” they offered, “but for now I got to go, see you!” With that they ran off.

“I can’t believe you did that, Zenko,” Metal Bat groaned, still feeling the embarrassment from that whole ordeal.

“I got you a date, be grateful!”

anonymous asked:

(au) Ian as the ROTC leader of the school and Mickey being a pissed off parent so he goes down to the school to have a "talk" (threaten) him. He could be single, married, whatever you choose. Do with this what you will.

// ok so just for background: Mickey slept with Svetlana as a drunken dare, years ago, and she got pregnant. (She’s still a prostitute). He’s still gay but he hasn’t really ever acted on it (some casual sex maybe) and he’s closeted, but not as severely as he was on the show. He and Svetlana aren’t together, nor have they ever been. They raise Yev together but they don’t live together. And they don’t hate each other! Mickey and Ian have never met before //

// this is a total oneshot with no relation to any plotline or story I’ve written before //

Mickey was reading the paper in the kitchen when he heard the front door open. Yev always came by after his ROTC sessions on Thursday afternoons to see him. His son was usually in a good mood, but today he entered the room looking pretty downcast.

‘What’s up kid?’

Yev shrugged, opening the fridge and grabbing some juice. ‘Session was shitty,’ he said dully.

Mickey immediately got on his defence. ‘What happened? Somebody say something to you? Somebody hurt you?’

Yev came to sit opposite his father. ‘Just…these guys. It’s like they always have it out for me. I don’t expect them to be really nice or anything, I mean, it’s ROTC. But this is…something else.’

'What do they do?’

Yev’s eyes flickered to the table.

'They say stuff. About Mom.’

Mickey frowned. ‘What the fuck do they say about her?’

'They call her a - a whore. A slut,’ he said sadly. 'And they said I was an accident. They said I was a - an actual son of a bitch.’

Mickey sighed. ‘You know they’re just stupid idiots, right? Bored with their own dumb lives so they have to pick apart yours? We both know your Mom’s not a bitch.’

'That’s what I said. I said, don’t call my Mom a bitch. And then,’ he looked at Mickey, 'they said they didn’t mean my Mom when they said that. They - they meant my Dad,’ he said quietly.

Mickey didn’t say anything. He froze.

'Dad, I know you’re gay,’ Yev said gently.

He still didn’t say anything. ‘I, uh, I gotta go out,’ he said, voice tight and monotonous. He stood up to leave, to run away from this. Just like he did when he was seventeen. But Yev tugged on his arm and made him sit down again.

'No, we have to talk about this. Please,’ Yev begged. Mickey finally made himself meet his son’s eyes. They were full of worry and care. So Mickey sat down again.

'How did you know? Your Mom say something?’

Yev shook his head. ‘I’m sixteen, Dad, I’m not stupid. I see when guys come here, and I know they’re not ‘checking the pipes’ like you used to tell me. I see random shit lying around the house that doesn’t belong to us, and I know a guy left it here. I understand the innuendo-laced jokes that Mom and Mandy throw at you. And last year I - I accidentally found your DVDs,’ he said, embarrassed.


'The porn, Dad. All guy-on-guy. I watched a bit of one, I was curious. Didn’t really do much for me, but if it does it for you, that’s fine, Dad. It’s cool. I don’t care as long as you’re alright. And you’re happy. I’m still your son and I still love you,’ Yev told him.

'Kinda feel like it’s the parent who’s supposed to say that stuff when their kid comes out to them. Not the other way around,’ Mickey said. But he pulled Yev into a firm hug. 'Thanks.’

'So anyway. I couldn’t stand to hear them talk about you and Mom like that. They called you…all sorts. But then they just kept chanting the same stuff over and over. Same word. Faggot’ He mumbled, hating the word.

'Well it’s not like I’ve not heard it before.’

'Well I hadn’t. Not in that context,’ Yev said glumly. 'It was on the walk home. They live a few streets over so it’s mostly the same route. They just kept shouting it, about you. And I hated it, I hated hearing them talk about you like that. It’s not even bad, it’s not one of your faults…why do they call you out on that instead of for something real?’

'People can be really fucking awful, Yev,’ Mickey told him. 'Believe me.’

'And it was that, along with everything about Mom. I started crying. I couldn’t help it.’

'I told you to never let people see you cry. They use it against you.’

'Yeah, they did. They kicked me.’

'They fucking hurt you?’

'Yeah because I - I tried to stand up to them.’

'Well that was never gonna work. One of you and how many of them?’


'Exactly. What’d you do, try and hit them?’

'No. I wouldn’t do that. I - I told them that my dad liking what he likes don’t make him a bitch,’ Yev explained.

Mickey felt his heart glowing with pride and almost felt tearful. He couldn’t think of what to say. He just clasped his son’s hand and laughed. ‘You really are my fucking son, aren’t you.’

Yev smiled. They were quiet for a moment. Then Mickey stood up. ‘Ok. I’m going to get Indian for dinner.’ Yev grinned. ‘Yeah yeah, I know it’s your favourite. You deserve it, kid,’ Mickey said, leaning to kiss him.

'Get samosas too?’ Yev asked.

'Sure. Back in a bit. Hey, do your homework, yeah? I don’t want your Mom saying I’m too easy going.’

Yev laughed. ‘Like anyone could ever think that.’

Mickey smiled and left.


He did go to the Indian restaurant and place an order, but they told him it wouldn’t be ready for nearly an hour. So he sat in the waiting area for a couple of minutes, flicking absently through a magazine. Then he knew he had to do something about those fucking neighbourhood assholes. So he pocketed his order number and was out the door, charging back the way he’d come.

He wasn’t intending on going after the kids directly. Sure when he was younger, he’d have gone straight to their place and bashed them a little to show them who was boss. But now he was an adult and he wouldn’t get away with it. And he didn’t want to set that kind of example to Yev. He didn’t want his son to grow up thinking that violence was always the solution like he himself had done for a long time. Too long.

So instead he headed for the ROTC centre, hoping that someone would be there he could talk to.

It was pretty empty. Most of the staff had left. The receptionist was still there though. ‘Can I help you?’

'Yeah, I need to speak to whoever runs the 16-18 group. My son’s in it. Yevgeny Milkovich.’

'Let’s see…you need Ian Gallagher. I don’t think he’s gone home yet. Try the office down the hall and to the left. His name’s on the door.’

'Thank you,’ Mickey nodded at her and made his way to this Ian Gallagher’s office and knocked on the door.

'It’s open,’ came his voice. So Mickey stepped inside. 'Can I help you?’ Mickey was initially taken aback by how young he was. He thought the young army guys were all fighting in some war somewhere, and the old ones were left here to run youth programmes like this. And not only was Ian Gallagher young, but he was fucking gorgeous. 'Sir?’ Mickey realised he’d just been staring at the man in silence for maybe a little too long.

'Yes. My son is a member. Yevgeny.’

Ian smiled. ‘Yes, Milkovich. He’s fantastic. Dedicated, loyal, talented. He could have a real future here. One of the best we’ve got.’

'That’s great, but he got home an hour ago and turns out he’s having a rough time.’

Ian raised his eyebrows. ‘Well I’m sorry to hear that. Something I did?’

Mickey shook his head. ‘No, it’s nothing to do with you. He thinks you’re great, actually. Really respects you. No, this is some other kids in the group. Messing with him. Giving him shit he doesn’t deserve.’

Ian couldn’t help but smirk at his cursing. ‘And what, ah, shit would that be?’

'They’re saying things to him. Mean things.’ He paused. 'Look, his Mom used to be a prostitute. I don’t know how they found that out, but either way, they’re insulting her, and him. Calling her names. And obviously he’s upset. It’s his Mom.’

Ian nodded. ‘I’m sorry. Clearly they’re doing it out of earshot but that doesn’t mean I don’t feel responsible for it happening. You and your wife must be very annoyed.’

Mickey hesitated. Normally he’d just go with it or lie by omission. But not this time. Not to this guy. ‘Actually I’m gay. We’re on good terms but she’s nothing more than a friend. Although yeah, she’s gonna be pissed when she hears.’

Ian nodded, taking it in stride, but Mickey didn’t miss the way the corners of his mouth turned upwards ever so slightly.

Mickey continued, ‘and the kids know too, and when they stopped using Yev’s mother to torture him, they moved on to me. Look, I can handle it when it’s said to my face, but when they’re saying it to my son? That’s not ok. At all.’

'I understand. Truly. I’m going to do something about this. You’re right. No-one should have to deal with shit like that,’ Ian smiled at Mickey as he swore.

'Yeah. Well. Forgive me for not having a great deal of faith. From experience, I guess you’re just gonna give them a slap on the wrist, if that,’ he said, getting up to leave. Ian swiftly walked around the desk, blocking Mickey’s exit.

'I’m absolutely not going to be apathetic about this. I take sexism and homophobia very seriously,’ Ian told him, gradually closing space between himself and Mickey.

'And how do I know you’re not just saying that?’ Mickey asked, also drawing closer to Ian.

Ian paused, and then grinned as he leaned in to kiss Mickey, hard. They kissed roughly for a moment, before Mickey broke away. ‘Seriously?’ Ian nodded, and Mickey laughed, taking off his shirt.

Ian quickly undressed too, reaching around Mickey to lock the door. He kissed him again, moaning. ‘Shit, I can’t get enough of your lips,’ he murmured between kisses.

'You ain’t seen nothing yet,’ Mickey said, as he dropped to his knees and practically ripped Ian’s boxers off. 'Fuck,’ he whispered, before taking him in his mouth. Ian’s hand rested on the back of his head and they settled into a rhythm. But before Mickey could finish him, Ian pulled away. Mickey looked up at him questioningly, but Ian shook his head.

'I want to fuck you,’ he said breathlessly, pulling Mickey up and pinning him against the desk in one motion. He leaned back, reaching for his wallet and retrieving a condom. Mickey barely had time to focus before Ian was inside him. He didn’t ease in or prep him, nothing. Just right in all at once. He knew what he wanted and Mickey liked that. A lot.

'Shit, Gallagher,’ he groaned, feeling Ian hit all the right notes. This guy, this damn guy…Mickey knew it was the best sex he’d had in a long while. Maybe the best sex ever. Ian had an arm wrapped around his waist, and Mickey grabbed his hand, mashing their fingers together as Ian stifled a yell by biting his shoulder.

When he came, it was fucking glorious.

Their movements slowed, as Ian kissed Mickey’s neck, then jawline. It was softer now, gentler. He slid out so that Mickey could turn and kiss him properly. ‘That was…pretty amazing,’ Mickey whispered. Ian smiled. ‘You do this with every pissed off Dad who comes in here?

'Of course not,’ Ian said. 'Only the gay ones,’ he added with a grin. Mickey laughed. 'Which is, so far, just you.’

'I’m glad about that.’ Ian cocked his head curiously.

'Why are you glad?’

Mickey shrugged. ‘Just am.’

They slowly began putting their clothes back on. ‘Hey, Ian. You think maybe…maybe I could see you again?’

'I’ll see you in your dreams,’ Ian replied, grinning. Mickey looked blank. 'You never watched Queer as Folk? What kind of homosexual are you?’

'The kind that fucks guys.’ Ian laughed.

'Look, do you want to get a drink sometime or not?’ Mickey asked.

'I thought that usually happened before intercourse,’ he said.

Mickey laughed. ‘Who the fuck calls it intercourse?’ Ian smiled.

'A drink sounds good. Here’s my number,’ he said, grabbing a scrap of paper and scribbling down his digits. 'Call me?’

Mickey took the paper. ‘Yeah. Definitely.’ He opened the door and glanced back at Ian, who kissed him lightly. ‘Later.’


Mickey walked into his house and dumped the bags of food on the table. ‘Sorry it took so long. They had a lot of orders.’

’S'fine. Mandy’s here,’ Yev said.

'Hey big brother,’ his sister waved from where she was perched on the kitchen counter.

'What are you doing here?’

'Nice to see you too. Jesus. I was returning your toolbox.’

'Oh, yeah. Thanks.’ Mickey said, going to hug her and greet her properly.

'So Yev tells me the cat’s out of the bag. The cat being you.’

'Turns out he already knew. But…yeah.’

'It was still great that you admitted it to him. And talked about it. I know…I know you could never do that with any of our family.’

'Did you never tell them?’ Yev asked.

'Oh, I told them alright. It was your christening. I fucking yelled it across the Alibi.’

'So…your whole family was there?’

Mickey nodded. ‘Whole family and then some. Aside from Mandy. She was at work.’

'Don’t fucking remind me,’ she said. 'I’ve always regretted taking that extra shift.’

'What happened?’ Yev asked.

Mandy looked at Mickey sadly.

Mickey looked at his son for a second before answering. ‘My Dad beat the shit out of me. He just started screaming and charging at me. Like a fucking bull. He pinned me down on the floor and hit me, and he kept hitting me. He was so much bigger than me. I couldn’t move. And there was nobody there to get him off of me. Eventually he knocked me unconscious.’

'And then I get a call from the police. They’d taken Dad away and Mickey was I’m the hospital. I get there as fast as I can. He’s in a coma. Broken arm, fractured collarbone. Nose totally smashed. Face covered in bruises and blood. I just sat there, crying over him, wondering why Dad would do this to him. Eventually I realised. I know what made Dad fly off the handle. And I’d had my suspicions about Mickey but never dwelled on them. But then it all made sense.’

'When I woke up, the police came to talk to me. They told me what had happened. He’d kept beating me even after I blacked out. And he wasn’t sorry.’ Mickey looked up at his son. Yev was pale and his eyes were heavy with tears. Mickey was about to go hug him, when Yev stood up and came over to him and stood beside him.

He wrapped his arms around his father, crying into his shoulder. ‘I can’t believe that happened to you,’ Yev sobbed. Mickey held on to him, trying not to cry himself, trying to be strong for his son. He hadn’t seen Yev cry for years. ‘Dad that’s…horrific. I know why you always changed the subject when I asked about your family. I can’t - Dad - you could’ve died,’ he choked.

'Yeah but I didn’t. I didn’t. And I’m so fucking glad he didn’t kill me because I got to raise you. You’re the most important thing. You’re the only important thing I’ve ever had in my life. Everything else before you were born was just buildup. I know I’m not father of the year or whatever but I try my best. Because - I know what it’s like when your dad doesn’t give a shit. I know what it’s like when your dad makes your life a living hell. That’s why I hate it when you’re annoyed or upset with me, even over something small or stupid, because I hate the idea that I’ve made you feel even remotely how my dad made me feel. And ever since I can remember, I’ve just been so fucking scared, Yev, that I’m going to become my father,’ Mickey said quietly.

His son pulled back and looked at him. ‘Dad, no. You’re the best Dad. Ok? It doesn’t matter that you’re not rich, that you never finished school, that you’re not some cookie-cutter doctor or lawyer father with a wife and white picket fence. You’re the best Dad because you’re always here for me, no matter what. I can tell you anything. You help me with schoolwork, you come to my parent teacher conferences. Even though you and Mom aren’t together, you make sure that this is never a broken home. But most of all, Dad, you have never hurt me, and I never question the fact that you love me. And I - I love you too.’

'Shit,’ Mickey muttered, wiping away his tears. 'Come here,’ he said, hugging him tightly. Yev was almost taller than he was. 'I’m sorry I never told you. I was worried it would fuck you up. And then as you got older I was worried you wouldn’t respect me or you’d hate me.’

'I understand why you couldn’t tell me. It’s ok. It’s not about me. This is who you are.’

They all stood in silence for a minute or so. Then Mandy offered to reheat the food, and they all ate together, laughing and joking like usual.

Afterwards, as Mickey was clearing the table, Yev suddenly spoke. ‘Where is your Dad?’

Mickey paused, and looked at Mandy. After a moment, he spoke. ‘He’s in prison. He got twenty years.’

Yev frowned. ‘So he’s getting out in four years? If it happened when I was a baby?’

'He got five more years because of bad behaviour, a few years back. But then that got reduced to two and a half. So he gets out in about six years. Provided it doesn’t change again,’ Mandy explained.

'Are you scared?’

'Yes.’ Micky’s single word hung densely in the air.

'Will they give him a restraining order or something?’

'Probably. But knowing him, that won’t work.’ There was a pause. Mickey saw the angry, determined look on his son’s face. 'Hey, do not go looking for him. Under any circumstances. Ok?’

'I won’t,’ Yev agreed. But that was one promise he probably wouldn’t keep.


A little over a week later, Yev rolled out of bed. Saturday morning was when he went running, and he immediately pulled on some clothes. He’d shower when he got back, but he needed to pee. He walked down the hall towards the bathroom, but saw it was locked. He could hear his Dad peeing, so he leaned against the wall and waited. After a moment, he heard the toilet flush and then the door opened. His mouth dropped open. He was face to face with his ROTC instructor. His shirtless ROTC instructor.

'Morning, Milkovich,’ Ian said simply, grinning at him cheerfully.

Yev just watched him walk back towards his Dad’s room, still in disbelief. His instructor was gay? And he was dating his Dad? His head was spinning.

But then he smiled. He realised that his Dad wasn’t hiding this stuff from him anymore. And that was fucking great.

// the end. Hope this was ok. It ended up being longer and deeper than I originally intended. (plus you’ll notice I planted the seeds for a potential follow up…let me know if you want me to write that! Otherwise PLEASE keep prompting me!! //

aleja09isthebest  asked:

“Can I kiss you?” - their first kiss

First kiss in the Mystery dads au! I also wrote a little drabble to give it some context. I usually just write scripts for comics, so bear with me. XD

    It was near the end of august and Molly and Tate had gotten together for one last summer sleepover before the beginning of the school year in September. The two gremlins had planned to stay up the entire night, but thanks to a rather intense pillow fight the two ended up falling asleep well before ten. After tucking them into bed Stan got up to leave for the night, but Fiddleford asked him to stay for coffee. They’d slipped into the companionable silence that had become a habit for them since they started dating a couple of months ago.

     “Can I kiss you?”

     Stan adjusted his sitting position beside his boyfriend on the porch so that he was looking at the other man. His shoulder brushed up against the other man’s own as he did, and in his new position he found his hand resting near Fidds’ hip. “What?”

    Fiddleford smiled at him and put a hand to the side of Stan’s head, playing with a few stray strands of long hair. “I said, ‘can I kiss you Stanley?’ ”

    Stan blushed and swallowed a lump that had suddenly appeared in his throat. Damn but that shouldn’t be so hot. “Y, yeah sure, wh-whatever you want Fidds.”

    Fiddleford laughed, “Stan you sound so nervous, what’s the matter Hun? I know this can’t be your first kiss, considerin’ your daughter’s inside the house right now.”

    Stan huffed and move a way from the other man, he rubbed the back of his neck. “Nah I’ve been kissed plenty, I’ve just never been asked before. Every body else just sorta, went for it.”

    Fiddleford looked a little bit sad at that, “ You know you can say no, right. I won’t be ma-“

    “Yeesh I get it Fidds, I’m a grown man I know I can say no,” Stan barked, “It’s just, kinda nice to be asked ya know?”

    Fiddleford laughed again,  “I know honey bun.” Than he leaned in and kissed him, tangling his fingers in the other’s long hair as he did so.

    Stan pulled away after a minute and let out a puff of air, his face even redder than before “Whoof, that’s uh, you’re pretty good at that Fidds.”

Fiddleford smiled.


A/N: I posted this before but tumblr screwed up so I’m posting it again. 

Description: Phil isn’t sure what they are any more. Then he screws up. 

Word Count: 2K

Their situation is fucked up. Like… well and truly beyond what is normal.

Phil first met Dan four years ago. At the time Dan had a girlfriend. Phil can still remember the disappointment he’d felt at that. Dan was… everything he was attracted to. Smart, funny, sarcastic, quick witted… the fact that he was also very nice to look at didn’t help Phil’s immediate crush at all.

The first year he knew Dan was confusing. There were moments. Many moments between them. And Phil wasn’t sure if he was just projecting the feelings he couldn’t seem to will away on to innocent situations, or if there was actually tension between them.

They were glances amongst conversation when no one else was paying attention. Late nights texting each other well in to early hours of the morning. It was Dan always making sure he was sitting next to Phil and nudging him at every inside joke they had (because in that first year they shared so many jokes between them).

And it could have all been innocent.

But Phil wasn’t sure.

Then, exactly a year after they had met, Dan told him.

‘Emily and I broke up.’

Keep reading

  • psychic: *reading my mind*
  • me: here we go, the whiskering begins. gimme your face. no pressure. nose pressure ahahahhaha pa ching and pa zam. your nose is quite a nice texture today. today? that face is not helping. no, no, no, no. how do I look? pretty great. fabulous. aw aw. whiskening achieved. let's answer some Qs. that's an X. you had one job, phil. *clapping* what happens in the basement of google? it's where vloggers are born. mother. would you rather have barbed wire eyelashes, ow, or grass hair? uh, grass hair. why? get a tiny mower, different style everyday. brrr brrr brrr. is canada real? uh, no. it's a fictional country, isn't it? I was aboot to say. *finger snapping* advertise the item closest to you in the most disturbing way you can. it's actually a pair of my underwear which was on the floor. that is your underwear? oh my god. underwear? watch out for an under-scare! disturb not make the worst pun ever. sorry. do a creepy face! *dramatic music* oh wow, that's horrific *weird noises* nooo, no no no no. phil, sing the first song that comes into your head in a scottish accent. oh, I don't know what song is in my head. what the what was that? ow. rekt. no. that was like a russian no. what the fuck was that? there's a russian man in my stomach. I think phil's trying to drop hints that's he's a cannibal, guys. rrr. play tug of war with phil's stress mushroom. what is the stress mushroom? they mean this baby. no, not that. I hate that. No! *struggling* no *more struggling noises* Oh. there's wet stuff in it- OH MY GOD -what is this?-WHAT HAS HAPPENED TO ME? WHAT THE HELL IS HAPPENED? rest in peace, disturbing mushroom. do the next question in dan's room. invent a new swear word and use it in a sentence. alright, ch-chanksplooned. alright, go on then. yeah, I chanksplooned your mom's face. do we wanna know what does chanksplooned-ok. what would be written on your tombstone? oh phil, there was never a better king of the universe. for god's sake. what's on yours, dan? ugh. dan, you're a penguin with rabies and phil, you're a mouse that's constipated. *weird noises* have a staring contest with dan while barking like dogs. whoever laughs first, wins. (?) 3, 2, 1. *barking noises* AH HA HA. y'all laughed. invent something that not one person would ever use. a bed made out of smashed glass. I wouldn't use it. fair enough. phil, sing the john cena theme while dan pretends to be john cena. *john cena theme* ow haha ow I knew that was coming *laughter* do an impression of a dying goose *weird noise* what the hell was- oh my god. *laughter* *weird noise* make a duet about ladders. ladders ladders ladders ladders ladders ladders ladders- who would(?) you step on them and you climb-ladders ladders ladders ladders- they're made of metal, they go up-ladders ladders ladders- if you're a fireman, they're really high. laddeeeerss. ladders ep. that's the symbol of our band. everyone put out their ladder hands. yeah, that's what the crowd's gonna be doing to our concerts. YEAH, LADDERS AH. you just broke the sound barrier. that's what happens when you go fast, you idiot. what the f- oh my god. become a season. oh oh wha what was that? oh, it's spring. you were birthing something. phil, what vegetable should be king? the op-carrot? scroll through your camera roll without looking, choose a random picture and explain the story. scroll scroll scroll STOP. I- I was witnessing nature in action. and taking sneaky photos of it, you perv. HAHAHA. what is happening in this photo? it looks like I'm in a public toilet mid-blink. wow. *bad beatboxing* dan, you're a nacho. phil, you're the salsa. make fanfic. I'm just so dry and crusty and until I just get inside you and submerged myself in your red juices. DIP ME - I can't get into myself-DIP ME DIP ME DIP ME AH DIP DIP AHH AHHH AAAHHH AHHH I'M COMPLETE MMMM MMM. stop it. let's all take a moment to just forget that happened. what is your favorite number of the alphabet? seventy-L. how dry is your wenis? wait, I know what your wenis is! ayee, ayee. it's this. mine's pretty soft. this is your wenis. let me stroke your wenis. that is a smooth wenis. tickle my wenis? *laughter* pretty soft as well. damn, guys. moisturized wenii. ah, let's just move on. let's move on. say a really unerotic word in a sexy voice and then lick your lips. exhaust pipe. OH *disgusted voice* OH I FEEL VIOLATED. concrete. *laughter* nooo. play the spoons. my grandma actually used to play the spoons so, prepare yourselves. *metal sounds* spoons. look up friendship yoga and imitate the first image. what? what the hell is that? HOW ARE WE GONNA DO THAT? so, we sit on our butts, not on our backs and make sure you're kinda like resting on your butt then feet together and then hands. reach. ah, I got one. and the other one. ow. ok. wait, wait, wait. alright now, over to the top. friendship. ow. *laughter* ow ow oh my god I pulled my leg oh oh. we have a very low friendship level otherwise that clearly would've worked. disaster. phil, reenact the photo of chris pratt and his raptors using house plants. I've got this. oh, god. here it is. ok, phil, very well done. *clapping* I'm so proud. that's pretty- you have a problem though. you seriously- I am chris plant. oh, did you just? do a trust exercise. no, no, no that's not a good idea. I'm actually scared. phil, you better-I'm gonna catch you. fall. oh my god. fall. AH OH OH MY GOD OH OH MY GOD OH MY GOD OH. your scream was incredible. YOU CAUGHT ME. I did. I DIDN'T DIE. Yeah. let's end this right now. So, there we go. thumbs up for another year of phil is not on fire. I'm quite shocked that I actually lived through this video-yeah- it was quite dangerous. You can click on phil's face to subscribe to his channel or my face to subscribe to dan. or click our bellies to subscribe to danandphilgames. is that a thing? give em a little tickle. ok. also, there's loads of new stuff on dan and phil shop so check the out- check that out- there's a link below. and we will see you guys next year. yeahh. i mean, we are gonna make videos but until this, the whiskers will return- there, there will be another of this. ACHOO. uh, sorry. I think that that's a good time to end it. Goodbye. *slow motion screaming*
  • psychic: what the actual fuck
me asking mom: sits guys ft. dadzy
  • mom: is't it about time you show me more voltage guys?
  • me: oh yeah. is it ok if it's a new game?
  • mom: no probs, the fresher the guys are the younger i feel.
  • me: ...you sound old
  • mom: shut up.
  • me: okay let's just go to the guys
  • kyohei
  • mom: my dear God. why is he dressed like that
  • me: yeah. sexy right
  • mom: yeah. but he doesn't work out does he?
  • me: huh? well he WORKS OUT ON BED realllllll good
  • mom: so he's a pervert
  • me: sexy pervert yes.
  • mom: he doesn't have abs.
  • me: ...mom *hugs kyo(phone)*
  • mom: i'm telling the truth kay
  • me: you're so mean to my kyo!
  • mom: next guy next guy next guyy
  • me: hey! you're dodging my-
  • mom: *already in character selection* what did you say just now?
  • me: ...nevermind
  • iori
  • mom: ......
  • me: what? you're gonna make fun of him too?
  • mom: ...one word. boring businessman
  • me: i thought i told you to stop the businessman thing!
  • mom: can't help it though.
  • me: he ain't a businessman
  • mom: yeah sure. his clothes are similar to the one before btw
  • me: oh i haven't mention all the guys here are in a boyband! *daydreaming of super junior*
  • mom: cool. i bet they would make your super junior obsession gone
  • me: nah. i'll like them forever
  • mom: you spend way too much money for them, i wish you'd just spend more money for voltage so i could enjoy them too
  • me: *sigh*...
  • kota
  • mom: let me guess. your fave?
  • mom: it isn't often that you like cute ones.
  • me: he isn't cute at the start mom, but then he's cute and now i looooove him to death and if you ever like him i'm gonna-
  • mom: i get it. i don't like him
  • mom: man. if i say i like him then you'll be mad and if i don't you're gonna..
  • me: forbid you from accessing my phone! MUHAHA
  • mom: that's even worse than what i thought!
  • me: what were you thinking then?
  • mom: you're gonna make me buy taylor swift and super junior merch
  • me: i'll make you do both!
  • mom: next guy please.please,pleaseeeeee
  • me: but i've got a blank space momzy *pen click sound*, and i'll write that down
  • nagito
  • mom: oooh. this one is cute- wait he's not one of your bias?
  • me: nah. he is KOTA's bffff though
  • mom: awhh those cuties as bffs
  • me: but he's only cute out-
  • mom: i'll take him~~
  • me: great yeah...why are you often attracted to perv-
  • mom: his biceps though *dreamy sigh*
  • me: he's kyo's bestie in pervy stuffs though
  • mom: wait what? kyo was the no abs guy right?
  • me: yeah and HEYYY! he's the producer of the band mommm
  • mom: kyo has a pervy face but him. what a two faced jerk-
  • me: no he isn't!
  • mom: how could you know? his route hasn't even came out yet!
  • me: well..uh..many people loves him in tumblr!
  • mom: i still don't believe it
  • me: tay merch.
  • mom: next guy...
  • me: i never go out of style, i NEVER go OUT.OF.STYLE.
  • takashi
  • me: you're so loud mom!
  • dad: i heard you screaming what's going on?
  • me: nah, it's okay. just...fangirling
  • mom: ......
  • dad: kay, don't scream too loud okay, it's midnight
  • me: mom. what were you thinking just now?
  • mom: ...
  • me: mom. what's wrong?
  • mom: ...this guy...looks like...
  • me: your next mistake, love's a game wanna playyy? *my jokes aren't funny oops.*
  • mom: my ex.
  • me: ...really...
  • me: it's April the 5th, not the 1st...
  • mom: yeahh...but the look on your face was a LOL
  • me: ...i trusted you...
  • mom: come on, if he was my ex then why am i with your dad now?
  • me: ouch. that hurts..
  • *dad sneezes*
  • me: see what you did just now?
  • mom: sorry honeyy. haha
  • me: you better be. if he's not my dad then i would have never met kota mom.
  • mom: maybe kid..maybe.
  • me: kota! be frickin real and wait for me!!!
  • mom: i would definitely hook one up with you because you never had a boy-
  • me: YOU TALK TOO MUCH, NEXT GUY! OH WAIT. we're done...
Playing the Melody

100 Theme Drabble Challenge featuring HopeLight

previous themes

playing the melody; au
(warning: this one is really, really long)

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

I don't know if you've gotten any more requests for it, but are you going to perhaps write more for the argo!Au with batarou? I've read everything you've written of them and I love all of it, but that has been one of my favorites and I'd love to see it go further. *///w///*

Of course! And here’s a little something for being such a dear (and make sure to follow @cinensis – he’s the brains behind this outfit!):

Garou had never been entirely out of the water before, and this was…strange, to say the least.

Somehow, Badd had engineered one of the miniature boats that were raised and lowered from the bigger boat (he called them something else entirely, but Garou didn’t care enough to remember) into something he could actually recline in, while a spray of mist covered him from the deck above. He was at just the perfect angle that he could look inside the porthole at Badd’s office, where he was playing…some ridiculous movie.

“We’re going to need a bigger boat,” the human on the screen said.

Garou reached his hand inside to hold Badd’s. He found himself much more interested in the strong fingers he could easily fit into his palm than what was happening in the film. “This is ridiculously unrealistic,” he commented.

“Well, yeah, I know it doesn’t look real or anything, but –” 

“Indeed. They get much bigger than that.”

Badd choked on the beverage he had been drinking, and when he sputtered it smelled like nothing Garou had ever come across. “What’s that?” he asked as Badd took another sip of whatever it was.

“It’s, uh…coffee. With rum.” Badd’s brow furrowed, like he wasn’t sure if he should offer, but then he asked, “Do you want to try it?”

“Yes.” Garou reached over and plucked the cup out of his hand, tipping it back without pause. It burned - first his lips and then his mouth and then his throat, and it set off a chain reaction of gagging and coughing. “What the fuck is that shit?”

Badd laughed from deep in his belly, and Garou glared. Then he had an idea. He rolled his eyes dramatically and, with no warning, tipped himself over the side of the miniature boat. His massive body hit the water painfully - that he regretted - before he floated, deathlike, in the waves. He grinned to himself; this would teach the human to laugh at him.

What he didn’t expect was for Badd to jump into the water beside him a minute later, fully clothed, grabbing him by his shoulders. “G!” he yelled through a mouthful of seawater, and Garou surfaced, surprised, eyes wide. When Badd realized he was perfectly fine, he punched him in the shoulder. “Fucker! I thought I had poisoned ya or somethin’!”

Garou glanced up. The distance from the deck to the water was no small height. He had seen humans fall from similar distances and not fare as well. He had seen their bones break, and some of them didn’t move again at all. “So you…wait, why did you come after me?”

“Because I was worried, dumbass.”

Garou pulled him close, even though Badd initially tried to shove him off, still full of aggravation. “I’m sorry,” he said, voice uncharacteristically soft, not even remembering the last time he apologized for anything. “Don’t do that. Don’t…I mean, not for me.”

Badd stiffened against his chest, then wrapped his arms around his shoulders. “Same, yeah? Don’t know what I’d do without ya…”

Garou nuzzled against his cheek, pressing his mouth to the soft flesh there, realizing not for the first time that he felt the same.

Luke Imagine: Seeing a Fan

Author: Rhine


“I’m telling you, I’m her favourite.”

“Calum, please. Haven’t you heard that drummers bang harder? Sorry mate, but she’d choose me.”

“Listen, everybody is a Michael girl. Just ask Luke.”

The boys turn expectantly turn to the tall blonde, but he’s too busy looking the other way.

“Hey Luke, who do you think – Luke? Hello? Anybody home?”

Michael raps the boy’s forehead with his knuckles, snapping him out of his trance.

“Wha – what, sorry?”

“You know what, just forget it. She’s totally a Michael girl.”

The other boys bicker about it all over again, not-so-hushed whispers and obvious side glances to the girl in the back booth of the store, head down in a book with the wire of earbuds trailing down her 5 Seconds of Summer shirt.

They didn’t notice until they were halfway through their meal on the opposite end of the store – isn’t that our shirt? – and they’ve been having this conversation ever since, trying to decide who would have the honor of talking to her first.

Of course, they saw fans daily – but this was a different twist, one where they’d come up to them first, having a little fun on their day off.

Besides, who wouldn’t want to be surprised by their favourite band member in public on what was supposed to be an uneventful day?

That was the problem – no we can’t all go up to her Ashton what if she faints Calum you don’t even know mouth-to-mouth for Pete’s sake Michael you are yelling shut up and Luke would usually be one to interject with light side comments every now and then, but he’s too busy.

Staring at you, the girl across the store – but he’s not looking at your shirt with his band’s name across your chest, he’s looking at the way you bite your lip just before you turn the page to the book, he’s wondering what book you’re so engrossed in that you aren’t aware of the dysfunctional table with rising and sitting boys, he’s wondering what song you’re so engulfed in that you can’t even hear their loud whispers.

He’s wondering who you are – not the fan, not the girl in the merch – who you are as the individual sitting in that booth today, what you’re drinking out of the mug and why you draw circles on the table.

Luke isn’t going to lie – you’d catch his eye no matter what shirt you wore, no matter who you were.

But he’s not going to deny the small twinge of satisfaction that he and his music play a role in the person you are today, sitting just by the window, shining in the reflection of the summer sun.

And before he can stop himself – or before the other boys can stop him – Luke is standing up and walking across the store, sidestepping Calum’s lunges at his legs and Michael’s hissed Luke!

The boys are all groaning with their heads in their hands – five dollars he’ll trip before he even reaches her oh my god – but Luke’s set on you despite the tremors of nervousness that was coursing through his veins.

He stands awkwardly at the side of your table, hunching his shoulders in all the most painful ways to decrease his height, even though he’s still looming over your sitting figure.

You look up expectantly – probably your waiter asking you if you wanted a refill or the bill – but you stop short when you see none other than Luke Hemmings smiling down at you with that lip-ring wonky grin.

And the plotline of the novel you were so engrossed in is completely forgotten, the music leaving your head as you pull out your earbuds.

Is this for real?

You’re probably just hallucinating – you knew your drink tasted weird – or maybe you’ve just read too many fanfics before going to sleep, you’re probably sleeping and your head is recreating some sort of warped reality from the words you read before.

You’re looking up at him with your mouth popped open in a little o and Luke can hear the riffs of a guitar melody he was so familiar with coming from the small earbuds that were now dangling from your fingers.

“I love that song – I, well I kind of have to because you know, I sing it and all but I like it too – which is why I sing it. Because I love that song. It’s a good song. But I mean, not that good you know like it’s not the greatest song ever written we’ve still got a long way to go like it’s probably nothing in comparison to some other big bands and their platinum songs – wait, is that your favourite song because if it is then I didn’t mean to bash it oh my god I’m sorry I just – “

He thinks he can hear the other boys groaning from a few tables over.

“Can I have a seat?”

He smiles weakly at you, hoping for some kind of do-over or black vortex to swallow him whole.

You nod faintly, still dazed, and he slides into the seat across from you, thankful for the more even eye level.

“I’m Luke – “

“ – Hemmings.” You squeak out embarrassingly. “Oh my god. I just – I, wow – I can’t believe you’re here talking to me I… you’re my hero.”

He’s a bright shade of red, matching you.

“I-I’m glad you like my music. I, uh – what are you reading?”

You lift the cover of the book for him to see and it’s something he’s never heard of before – he just nods with a little oh that’s nice that trails off awkwardly and you’re left sitting in silence with words that you don’t know how to say.

Luke hears a repeated bang coming from a booth somewhere behind him and he’s fairly certain it’s Michael hitting his head on the table.

You’re biting your lip and avoiding his eyes and Luke doesn’t want to mess this up, he doesn’t want this to be the disaster that he’s so afraid of – long silences and distant eyes, moments where he’s not up to what his name portrays.

He doesn’t want that expectation, he doesn’t want that name, not now – it could buy your attention for a mere moment, but he wants more than that.

“You know, I think I want a job cleaning mirrors.”

The banging on the table gets louder from one of those back booths as you look at him in confusion in his strange comment.

“It’s something I can really see myself doing.”

You meet his eyes for a brief flicker before bashfully looking back at the wooden lines of the table in front of you, a small smile curling on your lips after a breathy giggle escapes your mouth.

A wide grin splits on his face when he sees the curve of your lips and hears the soft laughter from it, his eyes sparkling immediately.

“Did you get it? Because like mirrors and seeing, you know? Do you like it? All the guys told me it was stupid but I swore it was funny they’re just a bunch of pricks see I knew it just took someone with a good sense of humour to understand – “

He’s rambling and this time it’s you who’s looking at the way his shoulders drop without the tension, how animated his eyes are when they match his rushed words.

“Did you think of that yourself?”

“Yeah, while I was brushing my teeth actually – I told Michael right after and he hit me so I haven’t been telling him any of my jokes after that.”

You smile at that and Luke would say anything to keep that happiness on your face.

“Did you want to hear another one?”


He’s lost track of the time.

The other boys have come and left – in the middle of a joke, Luke would remind them, mildly irritated – clasping the blonde on the shoulder and telling him they had to leave, winking at him when they tell him not to be out too late, a side smile at you.

You’re stunned at the sight of them – the three Australians that loomed over you in all their ripped-clothes glory that you saw so often in videos and concerts and pictures that always seemed so far away – now right in front of you.

You manage an awkward little wave and a squeak of a goodbye, but you think the last boy who stays with his gleaming blue eyes is the one who takes your breath away the most.

The way he tilts his head when he laughs, the long fingers that wave to accent his points, the lilt of his words that seem to curve with his smile – he’s laughing at the sound of your own chuckles and he loves the way it sounds like a harmony together, like music he would always put on repeat.

He’s chock full of bad jokes – and even worse when he accidentally lets the punchline slip, but that only makes it better – and it’s mostly him doing the talking with your occasional who’s there or what did they say to lead up to his cheesy finale.

You’re still in awe at the fact that Luke Hemmings would talk to you – come up to you and talk to you – and you barely have the words to say to him, processing even after god knows how long.

There is one question, however, that you can’t let slip.

Did you only talk to me because… because of the shirt?

It was only because you were a fan, you were only a fan to him – not some girl that caught his eye because he wanted something else.

I would’ve come up to you even if you were in a potato sack.


Yeah, I love potatoes.

He’s laughing like it’s the funniest thing in the world and you’re staring at him, amused, a few giggles escaping your lips at his carefree enjoyment.

But the store has to close and you have to leave and you’re certain he has someplace to be – he’s already killed an afternoon with you on a busy schedule and he can’t chance an evening too – and soon you’re standing in front of the doors, yet another silence falling between the two of you.

Not so much the where do we go from here that was in the first one, but more so of a when will we meet again.

He’s trying to catch your wandering eyes and when you finally get the courage to look up at him for the goodbye, the word dies on your lips.

You don’t want this dream to end, not yet.

You’re not ready to be just a fan again, not when you had a taste for something more.

And with shaking hands, you give him your phone, a bashful smile with shaky knees.

“You know, usually people give me papers to sign…”

He jokes, but he’s grateful for your momentary bravery because he wasn’t sure how to ask you himself.

He quickly keys his number into the bright screen, watching the contact save into your phone list as someone you knew, and the thought brings a goofy smile to his face.

And just as he was exiting the screen, he swears he sees a glimpse of himself on the background of the screen before you quickly fumble for the phone again.

“I, uh – thank you.”

You’re certain your cheeks are flames at this point and you can’t bring yourself to look into his eyes – god, he probably thought he just gave his number to some stalker creep – but his smile only widens when he looks down at you.

“Are you a Luke girl?”

He asks the question almost teasingly, finding your rosy cheeks adorable.

“I-um, I like all of you, I mean, I’m a big fan of all – all of… you.”

He’s silent, waiting for another moment with that smirk on his face.

“Yeah. I mean, a… a little.”

The words are so quiet and you pray that it doesn’t reach his ears.

But he throws his head back and lets out a bark of laughter that’s pure happiness and he doesn’t think anyone’s ever made him smile so much in a day.

“I knew it.”

You almost wish the day never happened just so you wouldn’t remember the embarrassment from this moment, but you wouldn’t exchange a minute with Luke for anything in the world.

“I’ll see you soon?”

He says it hopefully and it’s the words you’ve been echoing in your head to him all day long – I hope I can see you again I hope you’ll see me again – but today, reality was making all of your dreams solidified in the form of Luke Hemmings’ smile.

You nod at him, your grin too wide to squeeze any words through.

You chose him, back when you heard that very first song that you couldn’t get out of your head for days afterwards, back when you saw that very first interview and couldn’t keep your eyes off of the quiffed boy sitting at the very end with his shoulders slumped – you sang all of his lines and you wore this shirt thinking of him and all he’s helped you through; you chose him.

And today, he chose you.


more imagines here!

The Lost World [Sentence Starters]
  • "Oooh, ahhh, that's how it always starts. Then later there's running and screaming."
  • "You might show a little more respect, the man saved our lives by giving his."
  • "I love you. I just don't... need you right now."
  • "No, you'll be back in five or six PIECES!"
  • "Just follow the screams."
  • "Don't worry, I'm not making the same mistakes again."
  • "No, you're making all new ones."
  • "Why don't people listen to me? I use plain and simple English, I don't have any accent that I'm aware of..."
  • "It gives me the creeps, like it's not scared."
  • "You know, I have made a career out of waiting for you."
  • "It's so important to your future that you not finish that sentence."
  • "Stories of mutilation and death. Were you paying attention?"
  • "I've worked around predators since I was 20 years old. Lions, jackals, hyenas... you."
  • "Hey, you want some good parental advice? Don't listen to me."
  • "Do you see any family resemblance?"
  • "If you feel at all qualified, try turning the switch to 'on.'"
  • "I mean, it's not your fault. They say talent skips a generation. So, I'm sure your kids will be sharp as tacks."
  • "It's fine if you wanna put your name on something but STOP putting it on other people's headstones."
  • "Uh, where your going is the only place in the world where the geese chase you."
  • "We should've stayed in the damn car."
  • "I'll be right back. I give you my word."
  • "But you never keep your word!"
  • "That's the last time I leave you in charge."
  • "Don't go into the long grass!"
  • "I'm taking the kid. If you really want to stop us, shoot us."
  • "No, I'm not mad - I'm furious!"
  • "You know, it's very easy to criticize someone who generates an idea, someone who assumes all the risk."
  • "You seem like you have a shred of common sense, what the hell are you doing here?"
  • "Careful. This suit cost more than your education."
  • "Hang on, this is gonna be bad."
  • "Violence and technology... not good bedfellows!"
  • "What, like if you shot yourself in the foot? Don't do that, you would be dead before you even knew you had an accident."
  • "You like to have kids but you don't want to be with them, do you?"

anonymous asked:

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

'Does Ian want to be Yev’s dad?’

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

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

'Hey, is Ian not home yet?’

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

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

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

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

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

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


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

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

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

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

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

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

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

'Looking for Ian,’ Mickey said.

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

'He’s missing,’ Carl told him.

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

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

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

'Why would he go there?’ Svetlana wondered.

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

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

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

He nodded. ‘Thanks Kev,’ he said.

'Yeah, hope you find him.’

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

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

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

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

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

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


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

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

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


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

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

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

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

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

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

'Are you ok?’

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

'Uh, coke, E. And some weed.’

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

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

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


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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

'Mickey please can we just go home?’

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

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

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

'It’s where you are.’

And then Mickey was crying too.

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

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

"american beauty" sentence starters
  • "I guess I could be pretty pissed off about what happened to me... but it's hard to stay mad, when there's so much beauty in the world."
  • "Well, you have absolutely no interest in saving yourself."
  • "Lose my job? I didn't lose it. It's not like, 'Whoops! Where'd my job go?' I QUIT."
  • "I figured you guys might be able to give me some pointers. I need to shape up. Fast."
  • "You're right. I suck dick for money."
  • "Well, what do you say I throw in a little sexual harassment charge, to boot?"
  • "Management wants you gone by the end of the day."
  • "Your father seems to think this kind of behavior is something to be proud of."
  • "It's like God's looking right at you, just for a second, and if you're careful... you can look right back."
  • "When I was your age, I flipped burgers all summer just to be able to buy an eight-track."
  • "All I did was party and get laid. I had my whole life ahead of me."
  • "I rule!"
  • "She's not your friend. She's just someone you use to feel better about yourself."
  • "It's never too late to get it back."
  • "I have lost something. I'm not exactly sure what it is but I know I didn't always feel this... sedated."
  • "You think you're the only one who's sexually frustrated here?"
  • "Both my wife/husband and daughter/son think I'm this gigantic loser and they're right."
  • "I'm looking for the least possible amount of responsibility."
  • "You should see me fuck. I'm the best piece of ass in three States."
  • "Can you prove that you didn't offer to save my job if I let you blow me?"
  • "Are you just looking to lose weight, or do you want increased strength and flexibility as well?"
  • "I don't think we can be friends anymore."
  • "Just don't fuck my dad, all right? Please?"
  • "You're way too uptight about sex."
  • "I want to look good naked!"
  • "Someone really should just put him out of his misery."
  • "I'm not paying you to do... whatever it is you're doing out here."
  • "You don't really think [name] and I were..."
  • "Want me to kill him for you?"
  • "I need a father who's a role model, not some horny geek-boy who's gonna spray his shorts whenever I bring a girlfriend home from school."
  • "I quit. So you don't have to pay me. Now leave me alone."
  • "Remember those posters that said, 'Today is the first day of the rest of your life'? Well, that's true of every day but one - the day you die."
  • "She hates me. She hates you, too."
  • "There's plenty of joy in my life."
  • "Go fuck yourself, psycho!"
  • "My parents are coming tonight. They're trying to, you know, take an active interest in me."
  • "Gross. I hate it when my mom does that."
  • "Fuck me, Your Majesty!"
  • "I was hoping you'd give me a bath. I'm very, very dirty."
  • "You ungrateful little brat! Just look at everything you have."
  • "I'm so sorry for the way things look around here."
  • "I think using psychotropic drugs is a very positive example to set for our daughter."
  • "Who are you looking for?"
  • "This isn't life, it's just stuff. And it's become more important to you than living."
  • "There's nothing worse than being ordinary."
  • "Everything that's meant to happen does."
  • "You're one to talk, you bloodless, money-grubbing freak."
  • "Welcome to America's weirdest home videos."
  • "Oh well, all right, let's all sell our souls and work for Satan because it's more convenient that way."
  • "I'm sensing a real distance growing between you and [name]."
  • "My job consists of basically masking my contempt for the assholes in charge, and, at least once a day, retiring to the men's room so I can jerk off while I fantasize about a life that doesn't so closely resemble Hell."
  • "Don't you mess with me, mister, or I'll divorce you so fast it'll make your head spin!"
  • "Your mom's the one who's embarrassing. What a phony. But, your dad's actually kind of cute."
  • "If he just worked out a little, he'd be hot."
  • "You don't get to tell me what to do ever again."
  • "I'm serious. He just pulled down his pants and yanked it out."
  • "Never underestimate the power of denial."
  • "Are you trying to look unattractive today?"
  • "How dare you speak to me that way in front of her."
  • "Jesus, what is it with you?"
  • "I am sick and tired of being treated like I don't exist."
  • "Sometimes there's so much beauty in the world, I feel like I can't take it, and my heart is just going to cave in."
  • "See the way the handle on her pruning shears matches her gardening clogs? That's not an accident."
  • "Don't interrupt me, honey!"
  • "[Name]'s a pretty typical teenager. Angry, insecure, confused. I wish I could tell her that's all going to pass, but I don't want to lie to her."
  • "I had always heard your entire life flashes in front of your eyes the second before you die."
  • "You better watch yourself, [name], or you're going to turn into a real bitch, just like your mother!"
  • "I marvel that you can be so contemptuous of me, on the same day that you lose your job."
  • "You're boring. And you're totally ordinary. And you know it."
  • "You have no idea what I'm talking about, I'm sure. But don't worry... you will someday."
  • "Uh, whose car is that out front?"
  • "Your mother seems to prefer that I go through life like a fucking prisoner while she keeps my dick in a mason jar under the sink."
  • "In order to be successful, one must project an image of success at all times."
  • "She's... she's really happy. She thinks she's in love."
  • "I think you just became my personal hero!"
  • "Man, you are one twisted fuck."
  • "The only way I could save myself now is if I start firebombing."
  • "You know, this really doesn't concern you."
  • "I mean, how's her life? Is she happy? Is she miserable?"
  • "I'd really like to know, and she'd die before she'd ever tell me about it."
  • "Your wife is with another man and you don't care?"
  • "It's a great thing when you realize you still have the ability to surprise yourself."
  • "In less than a year, I'll be dead."
  • "[Name], today I quit my job. And then I told my boss to go fuck himself, and then I blackmailed him for almost sixty thousand dollars. Pass the asparagus."
  • "I wish I could tell her that's all going to pass, but I don't want to lie to her."
  • "We've met before, but something tells me you're going to remember me this time."
  • "I can't believe you don't know how beautiful you are."
  • "Well, at least I'm not ugly."
  • "This will be the high point of my day; it's all downhill from here."
  • "[Name], are you masturbating?!"
  • "If people I don't even know look at me and want to fuck me, it means I really have a shot at being a model."
  • "In a way, I'm dead already."
  • "You are so busted."
  • "I feel like I've been in a coma for the past twenty years. And I'm just now waking up."
  • "Well, congratulations. You've succeeded admirably."
  • "The car I've always wanted and now I have it."
  • "God, it's been a long time since anybody asked me that..."
  • "Makes you wonder what else you can do that you've forgotten about."
  • "I'm just an ordinary guy with nothing to lose."
  • "Our marriage is just for show. A commercial for how normal we are when we're anything but."
  • "It would be nice if I was anywhere near as important to him as she is."
  • "Gotta spend money to make money."
  • "I refuse to be a victim!"
  • "I was filming this dead bird."
  • "Do you party?"
  • "Oh, what? You're mother of the year? You treat her/him like an employee."
  • "Could he be any more pathetic?"
  • "I think it's sweet."
  • "You need structure... you need discipline."
  • "He's just so confident, it can't be real."
  • "So, you're fucking psycho-boy on a regular basis now? Tell me, has he got a big dick?"
  • "He didn't even look at me once!"
  • "I don't think you'd fit in here."
  • "It seems unfair to presume I won't be able to learn."
  • "Excuse me for speaking so bluntly, sir."
  • "Oh, I'm in trouble."
  • "I didn't mean to scare you. I just think you're interesting."
  • "This country is going straight to hell!"
  • "[Name], when did you become so joyless?"
  • "I'm not obsessing. I'm just curious."
  • "What is this? The fucking Gay Pride parade?"
  • "Sorry about my dad."
  • "To you, he's just another guy who wants to jump your bones."
  • "This is my first time."

anonymous asked:

Can you write a mini-fic of the girls playing truth or dare (they're drinking) & Emily gets dared to give Alison a hot lap dance and she does it.

“I dare you…” Hanna trails off, and Alison can see the tension in Emily’s shoulders as she nervously awaits the dare, and the smirk that spreads across Hanna’s face is wicked, and Alison nearly laughs at the fear that passes over Emily’s face. “To give Alison a lap dance.”

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

So I was thinking #12, but maybe something where there's all this unspoken sexual tension between Harry and Y/N, and maybe they don't even know each other all that well yet, and they meet somewhere accidentally, and wherever they are, there aren't a lot of people around, and they kind of stare at each other, and there's all this desire and sparks, and oh my goodness. (Sorry, I've been watching a lot of people stare longingly at each other in period films lately.)

WoooOoooOooOOOOooooOow I like the way you think. 

12. “Kiss me.”

You know this is not the place to be doing this. 

Hell, he probably knows this is not the place to be doing this.  But here you are. One Direction’s latest End of Tour party held backstage at the arena they’d performed in earlier that night.  You, a member of the hair and makeup crew, had of course been invited.  And you are having fun.  You are. It’s just… that damn Harry Styles won’t stop looking at you.

You know there’s been far too much sexual chemistry between you and Harry, and it’s gotten past the point where either of you could deny it.  Luckily though, no one else had really ever brought it up before.   Whether or not it was a noticeable thing to others on the crew was entirely debatable.  But as it stands, you and Harry are well aware of your chemistry.

Which is odd, considering you’ve hardly ever really spoken to him.  Sure, you’ve been on tour with him for the past couple of months. But other than the quick hair style or powdering of his face, you’ve hardly spoken.  Lou would occasionally coax a few stories out of you, and yes there were times where Harry would tell you an interesting story about his own life or what he did earlier that day. So it wasn’t really that you didn’t talk.  It was just that you didn’t talk often.

Maybe, by some miracle of fate, tonight was supposed to change that.  Or maybe it wasn’t.  All you know right now is that Harry Styles is on the other side of the room, and this is the twelfth time he’s looked at you.

You sigh, the butterflies in your stomach refusing to relax.  You decide you need some fresh air, so you pick up the drink you’ve set down and head out to the stage.

Nothing in the arena has been taken down yet.  The lights are still up, the catwalk still reaches far out across the football field.  Its all left up for whatever reason.  You’d heard it wasn’t scheduled to be taken down until tomorrow, and for that you’re grateful.  Because this catwalk has given you a place to sit and think. 

Barely two hours ago, Harry was up here performing his heart out to THOUSANDS of people.  Nearly every seat in this arena was full.  And now?  Nothing.  It’s almost eerie really, in the most calming sense.  Which shouldn’t even make sense, but it feels like it does.  But maybe that’s what loving Harry does to you.  Maybe nothing makes sense when you’re in love with him.

You curse silently under your breath, angry at yourself for admitting that you loved him.  You’d always known it, but you’d never let yourself admit it or really even think about it. How could you love someone who you’d only spoken to when you were getting him ready to perform for thousands of other girls who loved him just as much, if not more?  

“Hey.”  A deep voice startles you and you nearly drop your drink.  You whirl around to see him standing, awkward and gangly with his hands in his pockets. He chuckles deeply, flashing a dimple.  “Sorry, sorry.  Didn’t mean to startle you.”

“No, no.  You didn’t.  I mean, it’s fine.  Uh.”  You laugh awkwardly, reaching up to play with your hair as he takes a few slow steps towards you.  “What… what are you doing out here?”

Getting closer to you, Harry takes a deep breath and looks around.  “It’s a really cheesy answer.”  He laughs, wiping at his nose.  “You’re gonna make fun of me.”

“I am not.”

He grins at you.  “I like to come out here sometimes after shows when it’s like.. empty like this.  You know?  Makes it so… surreal.”

You nod.  “I know.  Those seats were all full of girls screaming for you not two hours ago.”

He laughs, subconsciously getting a little closer.  ‘Yeah.  Ha. Silly, innit?”

“Not silly!” You say.  “I’d scream for you.”

An awkward pause follows those words and you realize what you just said.  Your eyes widen.  “NO! No. I mean. I didn’t mean it as creepy and like, sexual as it sounded.  I meant like, if I was a fan.  Not that I’m not a fan! But.  You know.  I’d scream for you. If I was out here during your shows.  Which. I’m not.”

Harry, the little shit, cannot stop laughing.  “Really?” he teases.  “Think if you were out here I could make you scream?” He wiggles his eyebrows, but you can’t deny the butterflies in your stomach at that.

You roll your eyes, trying to brush it off with a laugh and a little shove.  “Shut up Harry.  You knew what I meant.”

He laughs.  “Yeah, yeah.  I did.  No worries.”   Another silence follows, but this one is not as awkward.  He clears his throat and you both look out at the arena. Again, the sense of eerie calmness creeps over you, even more calming now with Harry’s presence beside you. And god, how you want to just reach over and take his hand in yours.

You’re torn from your thoughts when you notice him staring at you.  Your cheeks instantly redden and you smile.  “What?”

“You’re just… I mean, why didn’t we ever like, talk?”

You turn to face him now.  “Um. I don’t know. I mean, I guess it was cause the only opportunities we ever got were when I was doing your hair.  And we were kind of like, in a rush.  I don’t know.”

He nods, taking this into consideration.  “Yeah,” he says quietly, more to himself than to you.  It’s then when you realize just how close you two are standing. You bite at your lip anxiously. 

“I mean,” you continue.  “You’re… like… you’re Harry.  And I’m just your hair stylist, you know?”  You giggle, feeling awkward standing so close to him.  Awkward, like a little middle school girl standing next to her high school crush. “Ha.  Harry Styles hair stylist.  That’s a bit of a tongue twister, huh?”

“Kiss me.”

You shake your head a little in disbelief. You can feel your eyes widen and your cheeks hurt from trying to suppress the smile that wants to make an appearance. “What?!”

Before you can answer, he grabs your face and pulls you in closely.  The moment your lips connect, it feels like every cheesy Rom-Com movie you’ve ever watched, where fireworks go off in your head and a choir sings.  Your heart is on overdrive, and when he pulls away, you realize that you’re grinning stupidly up at him.

Luckily, he’s grinning stupidly right back.

He chuckles, filling the silence that follows.  “God,” he says.  “You’ve no idea how long I wanted to do that.”

You giggle.  “No, I think I might have an idea.”  You reach forward and brush his hand, hanging limply at his side.  He gratefully interlocks his fingers with yours, and his stupid grin subsides into his cheeky little smirk.  

“Can I kiss you again?” he asks. 

You stand up on your tiptoes to kiss his lips, feeling once again the fireworks and the choir singing.  His arms snake around to your hips and its the most innocently romantic thing you think you’ve ever experienced in your life.  Just standing there kissing, holding one another on a stage that was the center of thousand’s of people’s attention.  So perfectly isolated.  So perfectly in love. ~Sydney

(Requests are currently closed, we are just responding to some from the other night! xx)