mr cranky pants

hunger - chapter 2

Hunger master post


The dog is still breathing when Stiles clambers out of the back of the SUV that hit it. The driver is in shock, and has been apologizing profusely ever since it happened. And Stiles knows it’s not the guy’s fault. The dog was going for the man who’d hurt Stiles in the alley, and ran out in front of the SUV. Which makes this Stiles’s fault, doesn’t it?

The animal clinic isn’t open, but there’s a light on inside and someone moving around, so Stiles bangs on the door. It’s opened by a dark-haired boy who looks no older than him.

“My dog,” is all Stiles manages to get out before he’s crying again.

The boy and the driver carry the dog inside on a picnic blanket from the back of the driver’s SUV, and into the examination room. Stiles curls his fingers through the dog’s ruff, and leans down close to his ear to whisper to him again how sorry he is.

The driver slips toward the door, and Stiles thinks about chasing after him for a second and demanding he pay the bill for whatever this is going to cost, but what if the guy refuses? Then the dark-haired boy will know Stiles has no money.

“It’s okay,” he whispers to the dog instead. “You’ll be okay.”

The dark-haired boy checks for a heartbeat. “His heart sounds good,” he says. He runs his hands though the dog’s fur. “I think maybe his leg is broken, and some ribs?” His forehead wrinkles with a frown as he carefully manipulates the dog’s hind leg. “Actually, maybe it’s not a break. I should really call my boss in. I just work here after school.”

“Vet school?” Stiles asks, still sniffling.

“High school,” the boy answers. He wrinkles his nose as he presses his knuckles gently against the dog’s ribcage. “I could have sworn I felt a break a second ago. He really needs an x-ray.”

Stiles nods, despite the jolt of worry that goes through him. He can’t afford that. He’s got three dollars and seventy cents in the pocket of his jeans. He’s got nothing. And, when the boy turns his worried gaze from the dog to Stiles, and rakes it down his body, he knows he can tell.

It doesn’t matter how clean Stiles tries to keep himself. It doesn’t matter if he washes his spare shirt under the faucet in the diner bathroom every few days. He’s still filthy. He can’t remember the last time he showered, or washed his hair. He can’t remember the last time he ate something that wasn’t greasy or half-rotten. He knows he looks like shit. He knows he probably stinks like shit too, and so does the dog.

The boy runs his fingers through the dog’s fur again. “Is this a wolf hybrid?”

“I don’t…I don’t know.”

The boy casts him a worried look. “You’re not supposed to own them in California.”

Stiles feels a sudden flash of panic. He moves forward and nudges the boy out of the way. “We’ll go. We’ll just go.”

The dog blinks his eyes open and fixes his gaze on Stiles.

“Dude,” the boy says, sounding reproachful and regretful all at once, “I’m not going to report you. Just, if anyone finds out, he might get seized and put down.”

The dog rumbles out a growl.

“He’s fine,” Stiles says, his voice catching. “He’s fine, right?”

 “Um… I guess?” The boy looks puzzled. “He looked pretty bad when you got him here though. I really should call my boss.”

“No!” Stiles tugs at the dog’s ruff. “Come on. Come on, boy. Please get up. Come on.”

The dog rumbles again.

The boy puts a hand on Stiles’s shoulder. “Dude, don’t freak out, okay? I won’t call my boss if you don’t want me to. I won’t…” He chews his bottom lip for a moment. “You’re homeless, right?”

Stiles feels stripped bare, cold and naked. His breath hitches, and he jerks his chin in a nod.

“Look,” the boy says, squaring his shoulders. “I’m gonna give your dog some fluids, no charge, because I can really use the practice, and my mom packed me some dinner that I haven’t eaten yet. You want some?”

Stiles blinks at him for a moment. “What?”

“Homemade tamales,” the boy says, and wrinkles his nose. “I’m Scott, by the way.”

“St-Stiles,” Stiles says, his heart thumping loudly.

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▏Mr. Cranky Pants ▏Yongguk ▏ツ ▏

Request: a scenario in which Yongguk is a cold kind of person and not too social but whenever hes with you he gets all happy and stuff because he has a crush on you and then he confesses to you? thank you

Comments: Hope you like it, thanks for requesting :)

            “Hey.”

            Yongguk blinked.

            “Hey.”

            Yongguk raised an eyebrow.

            “Hey!

            Yongguk glanced up and met Daehyun’s eyes. “What?!” he snapped, clearly annoyed by his younger member who was disturbing his quiet time.

            Daehyun slyly smirked and took a seat right next to Yongguk on the mattress. “Why are you in such a bad mood today?” he asked, although he knew that Yongguk’s behavior was nothing out of the usual. It was in fact the epitome of his normal behavior.

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Heartland rewatch/liveblog

Episode 504
-I don’t get the whole chuck wagon thing.
-Amy helped one of the horses.
-It looks like Amy isn’t the only one who is tired. Lou just poured coffee on her cereal.
-Katie isn’t sleeping at night and keeping everyone awake.
-Is anyone really surprised Mallory babbled in her sleep as a baby.
-Something went wrong with the chuck wagon practice.
-Reed is kind of an eccentric guy.

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anonymous asked:

It seems we aren't getting any improvement on medication... From what I can gather bictegravir/emtricitabine/tenofovir AF is pretty much a clone of tivicay + descovy just in a single pill? Does bictegravir show any better results than dolutegravir? Also it seems the injection treatment (cabotegravir + rilpivirine) is no improvement on oral therapy just less dosing. Can you tell us of maybe some "improvements" that are being worked on but past the theoretical/experimental stage?

OK, Mr. Cranky Pants, explain to me how we could “improve” on dolutegravir, a drug that is virtually 100% effective, that doesn’t select for resistance mutations, that drives viral load down rapidly, that is extremely well tolerated, and that has few drug interactions?  If bictegravir turns out to be just a “clone” of dolutegravir, the fact that it’s coformulated in a single tablet with TAF and FTC will be improvement enough.

As for cabotegravir/rilpivirine, this will be the first long-acting injectable regimen: a fairly revolutionary development. What other improvements were you expecting?  What will it take to make you happy?

In the developed world, there are few chronic diseases that can be treated as easily, safely, and effectively as HIV, a disease that’s only 36 years old. Treatment is so good now that until there’s a cure, further progress in treatment will be incremental.

Sensitive

Zayn: The morning light spilled into the bedroom, but neither one of you had any plans on leaving anytime soon. Zayn’s hands traced lightly over your skin, humming quietly to himself. Goosebumps rose on your arm, where he continued to draw unknown shapes. “So sensitive,” He whispered. He smiled at you as his hand wrapped around yours. “C’mere,” He said, gently tugging you into his chest. You nuzzled your nose into his collarbone, and sighed as his arms wrapped securely around you. Zayn’s thumb traced circles on your hip bone as he pressed a kiss to your temple. He rested his cheek on the top of your head and said quietly, “You’re my favorite part of the day.”

Harry: He had been sensitive all day. He growled at you when you offered a good morning, and had only come out of the bedroom to use the bathroom or get more food. You narrowed your eyes at him as he meandered towards the kitchen. You started to read again when you could hear him grumbling. Tossing the book to the side, you joined him next to the pantry. “There’s nothing to eat.” He muttered, his lower lip poking out. You scanned the pantry full of food. “No?” You asked, quirking an eyebrow at him. He nodded and you rolled your eyes. “Fine, Mr. Cranky Pants, let’s go out for some lunch then.” You told him, leaving to grab your coat. Harry’s large hands wrapped around your hips, pulling you back against him. “I changed my mind. I think I just found something to eat.”

Niall: You didn’t think that your daughter could be any more like Niall, but when she came home from school today, you were quickly proven wrong. Her blue eyes were filled with tears as she ran into your arms. “What’s wrong, baby?” You asked, momentarily panic-stricken, thinking she was hurt. She sniffled and wrapped her arms tighter around your neck. “We learned in class today that there are kids that don’t have any food or anything. The have nothing!” She cried. Your heart ached for your little girl, sensitive to other people’s needs just like her father. Wiping away her tears, you kissed her forehead. “Can we help them?” She asked, her eyes growing wide. You smiled and nodded. “I think that’s a great idea.” You told her. “And Daddy can help too?” “Daddy can help too.”

Liam: His mouth ghosted over your neck, and his hips continued to press into you. You moaned under him, hands threading through his hair. Liam tugged your nipple into his mouth, sucking harshly. He moved his hand to cup your heat, and you whimpered. “Liam, I can’t,” You panted. “Too sensitive.” He glanced up at you through his thick eyelashes. With a wicked grin, he pressed a kiss between your breasts. “One more? For me, baby girl.” He murmured, his warm breath making you shiver. You closed your eyes as his fingers moved against your oh-so-responsive center. Your breath hitched as he slid his two fingers into you, and sighed in approval as his digits curled. “Is that a yes?” He breathed, his soft lips pressing to your cheek. With a nod, the two of you began all over again.

Louis: Glancing at your swollen stomach, you frowned. You were sitting in the middle of your bedroom floor, every article of clothing you owned strewn in every direction. None of your pants fit. You were too hot. The baby kept pressing against your bladder. It was all of those reasons and then some, that when Louis came home, he found you sobbing into a pair of skinny jeans. He was quick to wrap his arms around you, murmuring soothing words in your hair. “Hey, what’s wrong beautiful girl?” You wept, and gestured to the room. “I can’t fit into my skinny jeans,” You spluttered. “Oh, sweetie.” He chuckled lightly. “It’s not funny.” You told him sternly. Then, both of you glanced around the trashed room and cracked up. “ I think you, my sweet, sensitive love, need a cup of tea.”

The Trouble On Your Lips- Chapter 5

Masterpost. Sorry if there are any mistakes. Sleepy Sarah is very sleepy and nothing makes sense to me right now.


“This way.” Oli whispered to Mike, Matt, Jordan and myself. We made our way around the school building until we found the window that Oli had managed to unlock earlier today in the school locker room. The locker room was underground, kind of like a basement, so the small window was near the roof of the locker rooms, but since we were outside in was near our feet.

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gunnolflyall  asked:

"Hey Cecil! Come to the bedroom!"

“Yes, my love,” Cecil called back, putting Wendell down for his nap. He kissed the baby on the forehead. “Now, you sleep, okay? I don’t want a Mr. Cranky-Pants this afternoon.”

He went into the bedroom. “What’s up, Puppy?”