now i'm going to have to go find more of his stuff because i like this

anonymous asked:

I'm going through a real rough patch and if you want to write something cheerful you have no idea how grateful I'd be.

Flash sidled up to Superman on one of the Watchtower’s mezzanines, leaning against a rail. They looked at each other sidelong, then away.

“Wanna hear my new time?” Flash asked sideways, swaying as he alternated which foot held his weight, hands on his hips.

“There’s no way you beat my time,” Superman muttered, his arms crossed over his chest. His eyes were in the other direction, and both men went silent as the Lanterns walked too close. Superman and Flash gave them a nod of acknowledgment, then waited for them to be at a safe distance.

“Nine seconds.”

“What!” Superman dropped his arms, whipped his head around to where Flash was grinning and bouncing on his heels. “No way.”

Flat,” Flash said.

“There’s no way.”

“Check my heartbeat if you don’t believe me,” Flash said, tapping his insignia with his thumb. Then he frowned. “Actually, don’t, I’m pretty excited about this so my pulse is probably crazy.”

His heart always sounded like an angry hummingbird trapped between his lungs, but Barry was also a notoriously terrible liar, so it wasn’t as relevant as it could have been.

Dangit,” Superman said, crossing his arms again. He leaned back to scope out the area around them. No one seemed to be paying them much mind. “What time?”

“Eleven on a Saturday,” Flash said, looking even more smug. “You know I don’t mess around.”

“Tch!” Superman made an irritated sound, licking his canines. Then he snapped his fingers. “You forgot about–”

“Nnnope,” Flash interrupted. “I’m including the new ones in that, that’s the whole reason we had to reset our times, otherwise I’d still be at seven-point-four.”

Tch.” Superman drummed his fingers against his bicep. “Nine seconds,” he repeated, torn between irritation and awe.

“You know what that means,” Flash said, waggling his eyebrows.

Superman sighed. “Alright, where are we going?”

“I want soup.”

“Uh-huh.” Superman waited. Flash was waiting for him to ask. Superman was not going to give him the satisfaction.

“… in Saigon.”

“You’ve been watching Bourdain again,” Superman accused.

“It looked like really good soup!” Flash said, defensive.

“Fine,” Superman said, “but I am going to beat your time, and when I do–”

“Beat what, now?” Wonder Woman asked, having managed to approach them while they were distracted by negotiations.

“Nothing!” Flash and Superman said at once.

“We were just talking,” Superman said.

“About stuff,” Flash added unnecessarily. “Private, personal, man stuff.”

Wonder Woman’s eyebrows shot up. She was close enough for her lariat to hum on her hip. She looked Flash over. Flash started to turn red.

“Okay bye!” Flash said, and he was gone in a streak of red.

“Superman?” Wonder Woman asked.

“I should, uh. Hal…”

He wasn’t actually making any definitive statements, just stringing words together, and yet somehow it still managed to ring false. She watched him go, putting her hands on her hips.

She could practically sense it when Batman came up beside her, even quiet as he was.

“Do you want to know what they were talking about.”

“Do you know?” she wondered. He said nothing, so she turned to look at his face. It was as expressionless as ever, but she got the impression that he did not consider the question worthy of dignifying with a response.

He was Batman. He would never be so rude as to say ‘of course’ – but of course he knew.

“I wouldn’t want to invade his privacy,” Wonder Woman said cautiously.

“He’d tell you if you really asked,” Batman said. “They just like feeling like they have a special thing.”

“Oh.”

“Flash, especially.”

“I see.” She tapped on her lower lip as she watched Superman talk to one of the Green Lanterns. “So what’s the special thing?”

“Pick me up in the plane on Saturday and I can show you.”

She froze. Slowly, she turned to look at him. As always, being able to see him helped not at all. “Like a date?” she asked.

The corner of his mouth twitched. “More like a stakeout.”

“That could be like a date.” She was mostly saying it to tease him. Sometimes if she did it right, he turned pink and had to find a shadow to hide in.

“It’s usually not.”

“Why not?”

“I’m usually with the kids.”

“Oh!” Her eyes widened. “I didn’t mean–”

“It’s fine.”

She put her hand out to rest on his shoulder. “I would never imply–”

“I know.”

She took her hand back. “I’ll behave,” she assured him.

“You don’t have to,” he said, and she grinned.

“I’ll pick you up at ten,” she said, and she gave him an exaggerated wink as she walked away.

“It’s a date,” he murmured.


Why,” Wonder Woman asked, “are we in Florida?”

Batman was sitting beside her, and the plane was in a low hover. “Because as far as anyone can tell, this is the single biggest and busiest Walmart in the world.”

“I don’t think that explains as much as you think it does,” she said.

Batman held up a phone. A clock took up most of the screen. 10:59. “Watch,” he said, and he pointed out to the parking lot, vast and terrifying and teeming with people. She watched, and she had no idea how she was supposed to see anything in the crowd.

Finally, she spotted it. The motion too quick to be anything mortal. Would anyone on the ground notice anything more than a strong breeze?

“Oh! It’s the–” She snapped her fingers, couldn’t remember the word.

“Carts,” Batman supplied.

“Yes!”

In almost no time at all, every cart in the parking lot had been returned to one of the designated corrals. Batman pointed to something that he must have been using technology in his mask to see, because otherwise his eyes should not have been good enough. Wonder Woman was much better equipped to see Superman, standing beneath a tree and checking a stopwatch and scowling. He did some kind of motion with his arms and one leg that suggested he’d have thrown his hat to the ground, if he’d been wearing one.

“They introduced new carts,” Batman explained. “They don’t fit with the other ones, so it slows them down. Ruined their whole system.”

“They had a system?” she asked, giggling.

“No, here,” he said, tapping her arm to point again. “This is the best part. He’s frustrated.”

That’s the best part?”

“Watch what he does.”

She watched. Superman was gone again, more impossible-to-follow motion through the crowd. Things were moving. Large things.

“He’s fixing the cars!” she said, clapping her hands together.

“He’s fixing bad parking jobs,” Batman confirmed. “Because he’s mad.” There was a brief crooked curve to his mouth.

“He moved that one to a different space!”

“Illegally parked in a handicapped spot.”

“How fun.” Wonder Woman watched the people wandering through the lot, wondered how many of them had noticed what was happening and how many had disregarded it as nothing worth noticing. “Flash is the winner of this contest, then?”

“Consistently.”

“Is there a prize?”

“Clark buys him lunch. Usually somewhere he saw on a food show, since he can’t normally do that.”

“Why not?”

“Hm?”

“Barry can run anywhere, can’t he?” she asked. “I see no reason he couldn’t run to these places on his own.”

“He doesn’t like being alone in foreign countries,” Batman explained. “It makes him anxious.”

“Oh.” She returned her gaze to the parking lot. “How nice, then, that it all works out.” She frowned. “Is this weird?” she asked. “Spying on our friends like this.”

“I don’t think I’m the right person to ask.”

“Do you do this often?” she wondered. “Watch people have fun without you?”

“Define 'often’.”

Wonder Woman held up a finger in warning. “Zatanna taught me a trick.”

“That doesn’t sound good.”

“She says that if you ask me to define the parameters, it means the answer is bad.”

Before he could respond, there was a thump.

Superman was standing on the nose of the invisible jet.

He tapped a knuckle on the glass, until Diana opened the hatch. “Hello!” she said cheerfully.

“What are you two doing here?” Clark asked.

“We’re on a date!” Diana said.

“We’re not on a date,” Batman said.

“If you’re not on a date, can you give me a ride?”

“You’re out of our way,” Batman said.

“Nah, just drop me off in Gotham,” Clark said, slipping inside the plane, awkwardly floating between the two front seats into the back.

“You don’t even need a ride,” Bruce said, having to fit himself as far as possible into the edge of his seat so that Clark would have room to get by. “You can fly.”

“Yeah, and you can walk, but I don’t see you giving up the Batmobile.” Clark made himself comfortable in the back seat as Diana closed up the plane. “I’m craving Dimitri’s.”

“You’re too sober for Dimitri’s,” Bruce said.

“I’m always sober. You’re lucky I can tell this wasn’t a real date, or I would be really creeped out by the whole spying on me thing.”

“Don’t tell Barry we know about your special thing,” Diana said, pulling the plane out of its hover to ascend. “I don’t want to ruin it for him.”

“I won’t,” Clark assured her. “Hey, you know where we should go while we’re here?”

“No,” said Bruce.

“Where?” asked Diana.

“No,” said Bruce.

“Disney World!”

“No.”

Diana gasped.

“No.”

Clark put a hand on Bruce’s shoulder. “You can’t have come all the way to Florida just to see me,” he coaxed.

“I’m banned from Walmart, strongly discouraged from visiting Disney parks, and my parents are dead. I have no other reason to visit Florida.”

anonymous asked:

I'm sorry to bother you, but do things really get better? I'm 16 right now and everything I know is sadness and exhaustion and anger and then I talk to my parents and they just complain about adult life... is it worth it to go on?

oh gosh, i promise, it’s worth waiting, buddy. i know there are a lot of people who say, oh it gets better. and it does in some ways, but what it really gets is different. the people who are angry and mean and horrible often stay that way. the people who cut you off or who flip you off or who piss you off often are the same people at 16 as at 26. 

i think i hated people telling me “it gets better” because what could get better about being a mentally ill queer cuban girl in a world that wanted to eat me. i got spat out. my writing isn’t published because i’ve been rejected so many times i don’t even notice anymore. i was told a few times “make it less obviously homosexual”. what is going to get better about that, i said to myself. the memory of it will never be a nice one.

things got different slowly. like i didn’t realize until i was far on the other side of it. i wasn’t kidding in that last post when i said today i read my writing at 15 and it was painfully obvious how depressed i was. i didn’t have a diagnosis. like you, all i knew was that i was exhausted and angry and sad all the time and when i talked about it, i was told “everyone feels that way sometimes.” i felt that way all the time. in this story, i don’t suddenly wake up after turning 18 and have a magical life where it is all bunnies and flowers and loving. it took me 3 years of trying before i finally managed to quit self-harm completely. my eating disorder and i are still not on speaking terms, luckily. i’m slowly getting a handle on my ocd. i didn’t realize that the biggest thing that was changing was me.

yeah. being out of the house made it easier. away from where people knew me as a certain person. being someone new or being who i was or being in a room full of people who didn’t care how gay i was. being in control made it better. finding real and true friends made it better. being able to make my own plans and choose my own story and do more than just wait until i was old enough to be taken seriously - it got better.

but honestly it’s me. i learned how to shake hands with depression, he and i are such good old buddies i sometimes see him before he’s even coming. and i’ve gotten so good at getting out of his embrace, because practice makes perfect, same as anything. and i’ve learned things about myself i had no idea about at 16. i didn’t even realize i’m funny. i had never been skinny dipping. my only kiss had been sort of an accident. there was a lot i cared about then that i don’t care about now, because in my new world outside of that, the people i surround myself with don’t care either. i’ve worn a dinosaur onesie pajama set to eight parties now when 19 year old me wouldn’t be seen without her makeup. i wear glasses in public even though i’m nervous they make me look like a bug. i have tattoos and new piercings and a bank account (and no money) and i have love. and i don’t mean with a partner, although i’m blessed enough to say i have that as well - i mean. i just found it. i taught myself how to look for it. i figured - listen, i’m here still, so i might as well, like, try to enjoy it. and it wasn’t overnight. it still goes away sometimes. but i love so much and so easily now. i laugh more because of it. i let myself love dogs and movies and silly things. and this love sort of … makes things better. because it reflects off of everything into you. like a mirror.

at sixteen… at sixteen i was very suicidal. i didn’t know that it applied to me, because i thought i was just annoying and lazy. looking back now i always pull a face at how obvious it was, and how close i got to walking myself into a grave. it was more than a close call. death, like, waved. i actually believed i wouldn’t make it past 18. what was the point? what was the point of anything? i think if i’d told myself then, “it gets better”, i would have laughed. “maybe for you!” i would have said, “you have money and a life and you’re not like this.” but it did get better. in inches. stick around to see it. stick around to see everything wonderful that’s waiting in the wings for you. that knows your name. a fate of beautiful moments that are small and precious, like butterflies landing on fingers or snowflakes on tongues, or just sitting with a good book during the rainfall. hell, stick around to write the book, because (trust me), if you believe in your art and yourself - it can be done.

stick around most of all because what gets better is you fall in love with yourself. the world doesn’t become suddenly sickeningly sweet, even if the people around you become better and you’re given more opportunity. that’s wonderful too but… what happens is that over time, the stuff they told you stops sticking. you realize that just because your nose is crooked it doesn’t even matter because it doesn’t stop you from being the best dang ping pong player in your family. you realize you have a family, even if they’re not blood. you realize you are your own family. and you learn to take care of yourself and yes, it gets ugly at times, but you manage. and inside of managing there’s all these wonderful successes like mac and cheese and getting the bills done and the smell of clean laundry and friends that make you laugh so hard you almost pee and an apartment with plants in every corner and a hairless cat in sweaters or a dog with a bowtie or both and watching movies and reading books and seeing art, all of which haven’t been created yet, and possibly you’re the one who makes them. and managing … managing doesn’t have to be big. sometimes it’s just making a small difference. and sometimes the person you make a difference to is yourself. and that’s amazing.

stick around because, trust me, somewhere in there, you meet your younger self in your dreams and you tell her - oh gosh, i promise, it’s worth waiting, buddy.

5

Strap in nerds because have i got a long post ahead for you

So me and @sassycsap​ (bless her soul. she’s like my first friend here) talked about the nyoom nyoom post with how Rich would totally cart Jake around in a wheel chair like madmen on a chariot race because Rich is a Fast Boy™ and somehow we accidentally gave birth to this beautiful thing called the *drum rooooolll*

BMC Incredibles AU

So here’s each of the Characters

  • Rich is Dash (super speed) u can’t argue with me. have u seen the nyoom nyoom post
  • Jake is violet (invisibility and force fields)
  • Michael is Frozone ya’ll (Ice powers)
  • Jeremy is Bob (Super strength)
  • Christine is Helen (Elastic Body) (because we’ve all universally accepted that she’s the Mom of the Gang)
  • Jenna is Jack-Jack (this guy has a lot of powers that I’m too lazy to type in)
  • Chloe is Edna (She makes the costumes!!!!)
  • Brooke is Mirage (That really pretty girl who’s a spy)(don’t worry, we we’re made her good)
  • Squip is Syndrome (Bad Guy™)

=(The HCs are under the Cut so I’ll spare u the mess)=

Keep reading

Valentine's Day HC

This is my Valentine’s Day present for @sleepingupsidedown blame her for the suffering

-Lance has everyone’s back

-Even if no one ever really talks to him but Hunk

-Keith goes to Allura or Shiro because god forbid he talks to anyone else

-Allura goes to Coran and Coran goes to Allura

-Shiro only goes to Keith

-Pidge goes to Hunk or Shiro

-Hunk can talk to Pidge, Keith, Lance , and Shay

-Lance well, when it comes to the real important stuff, the homesickness, feeling inferior, a burden, a seventh wheel, Lance has no one

-Lance tries to form close bonds with the others but they never give him the chance, and those that do he doesn’t want to hurt by telling them of how unhappy he is

-Or he feels the horrible tension that seems to constantly be around them so he takes it upon himself to be the comedy relief

-The reason he flirts is because it makes him feel closer to his brother who taught him all those awful pick up lines

-He’s used to being overlooked it happens when you have a big family, it can’t be helped

-So when they finally have a moment to stop and relax Lance isn’t all that bothered that everyone naturally paired off only leaving him alone

-Lance then decides to simply go to his room, have some me time

-When he finally has his mask on he finds that he has tracks down his face mask(HIS VERY EXPENSIVE AND RARE FACEMASK MIND YOU)

- Cursing he realized it was wet with his tears

- He rushed to fix the mask and try to stop his crying but he finds that he can’t

-He can’t stop crying

-He can’t breathe

-He can’t hear the music he put on earlier

-He’s on the floor

-He doesn’t know what’s wrong and yet he remains quiet, rides it out by himself because who can he tell

-So he waits for what feels like forever to be able to breathe again

-Then he just waits for the panic and blind terror to subside

-And when it’s all over he gets up, the timer went off, it’s time to take off the face mask

-He doesn’t want to be alone anymore

-He doesn’t want to be there

-He wants to be in his mama’s arms

-He wants to listens to his siblings trying to make him laugh

-He wants his dad to be making him chocolate caliente

-Hell he just wants someone to talk to

-He just wants someone in the spaceship to have his back for once

-Someone who is genuinely interested to see him or just listen to everything be it good or bad

-He wants too many things that will never come to pass

-So instead he lays back in bed until the next battle because what else is there to do?

-What Lance doesn’t know is that it’s his birthday

-Everyone went and paired up to go prepare the surprise party for Lance the flirt who just happened to be born on Valentine’s Day

-Hunk went to go make the cake with Coran

-Pidge went to find some dank memes

-Allura,Shiro, and Keith went on to decorate the common space

-What Lance doesn’t know is that they all love him and appreciate him

-What Lance doesn’t know is that Keith planned all of this after Hunk let it slip that Lance’s birthday is on Valentine’s Day

-What Lance doesn’t know is that Keith plans to tell him how he feels about him

-WHAT LANCE DOESN’T KNOW is that the reason no one has had time is because they have been busy trying to hunt down the beauty products the know Lance loves or anything that brings him happiness to be honest

-You see Hunk isn’t making an Altean cake, oh no, he managed to find more than half of the ingredients to make Lance’s favorite cake, a tres leches

-Pidge found at least 3 new face mask made by humans for humans

-Allura is giving Lance a book she’s been writing with all the pick up lines Lance has ever directed toward her because she doesn’t know when but at some point it stopped being annoying and it started to be endearing

-Shiro is giving Lance the chance to give himself a nickname that Shiro will use from then on but it must be appropriate

-And Keith….. he has a whole letter were he wrote down all the feelings he knows he won’t be able to ever say to him

-Just hundreds of words stating how much he loves him and how sorry he is for ever forgetting him

-Asking Lance if he will take him, God please allow him to have a special place in his heart

-So Lance doesn’t know that when he is finally feeling as if he can actually maybe function that the others have Hunk going to his door to coax him out of his room

-But when Lance learns about all of it, learns that he’s not alone and the others have his back

-Now his tears are from happiness and a spark of hope that not everything is impossible

-And yes he does have enough space for Keith, why wouldn’t he?

anonymous asked:

Hi! I'm 16 and I plan to move out of my mothers house as soon as possible. I'm working on saving up $1,000 for an emergency fund right now, but what else should I do to prepare before I move? Obviously I still have a few years, but I'd like to have all my things in order before it's time. Thanks!

20 Things to Do Before Moving Out of Your Parent’s House

1. File as independent on your taxes. We’re a while away from tax season, but remember to file as independent on your taxes. This means that your parents can no longer claim you as a dependent and will no longer receive a tax break from the government for housing you. What it means for you, is that you will no longer be considered part of their tax bracket. This means you’ll have a better chance at applying for financial aid, health insurance, car insurance, etc.

2. Important Documents. Get as many of your important documents (social security card, birth certificate, tax forms, etc) as possible while you’re still living with your parents. You will need this information when you move out, so find a secure place to store them.

3. Learn to cook. Obviously, cooking skills are not going to come overnight! Checkout some cook books, online recipes, or even watch a couple episodes of Chopped. The more fast, cheap, and easy meals that you’re able to prepare before you move out- the better. Here’s my Cooking 101 post.

4. College. If you are going to college or planning to go to college, talk to financial aid about becoming an “independent student”. If the school classifies you as independent, financial aid will pay for a greater portion of your education. Also please don’t have your parent’s call the school on your behalf, start taking initiative and making these calls yourself. As someone who worked in a college call center for four years, a good 80% of the phone calls I got were from parents, and legally a college can’t tell them anything.

5. Accumulate furniture. Check out thrift stores, Dollar stores, and especially yard sales. Buying all of your furniture at once can be expensive and stressful, but accumulating a few pieces over time (space permitting) can be a more effective way.

6. Doctor’s appointments. Start making your own doctor’s appointments! I love this script by @spectrumsuperhero that’s applicable to all of your doctor’s appointment needs.

7. Start building credit. At 16, you’re probably too young to apply for an actual credit card, but having some credit before you move out will help you loads in the long run. As you might be aware, some landlords ask that their tenants have a credit score before renting to them. Don’t be discouraged! It’s just something to think about.

8. First Aid. Learn some basic First Aid. I’m going to toot my horn and link my post because I sat through literally six hours to get certified in this stuff, and if I do say so myself, my post is rather thorough. 

9. Learn to clean. Learn some basic cleaning skills- how to wash dishes, how to vacuum, what sprays clean what. These may seem like simplistic things, but many people grow up not having to do household chores. I guarantee you that not every apartment you live in will have a dishwasher, so learn some dish skills now! Learn to clean.

10. Go Shopping. Make a shopping list and go shopping at your local supermarket or grocery store. Crowded stores can sometimes be unnerving, remember the more practice you get at it, the more at ease you’ll be. 

11. Learn to wash clothes. Doing laundry is something that I never did while living in my parent’s house, and the first few times doing it on my own turned out… interestingly. Get your laundry skills in tip-top shape!

12. Get transportation. Get yourself a mode of transportation that does not require your parents. Biking, walking, and using public transportation are all ways that you can get where you need to be. Get as familiar with public transportation around your city as much as possible. 

13. Separate bank account. Still sharing a linked bank account with your parents? Get yourself a bank account that they don’t have access to. One of the first steps towards moving out and “Adulting” is being able to take care of your money. 

14. Build your resume. Keep working on and updating your resume, even if you already have a job. You never know when you’ll need to find another one, and you don’t want to hastily throw together your resume with little notice.

15. References. Similarly, get yourself a list of professional references. These references can be teachers, guidance counselors, family friends, etc. References are useful for job applications, housing applications, and networking. Always ask before putting someone’s name down as a reference.

16. Health insurance. Start learning about what health insurance coverage you currently have- how expensive it is, how it’s paid, how long it lasts, etc. Find out if you will be able to stay on this insurance after moving out of your parent’s house. 

17. Buy a First Aid Kit. A First Aid Kit is a must have for whatever apartment, room, or house is your next home! Spend $20 and buy a decent sized one that includes things like cold compresses, burn creams, and gauze.

18. Buy a Bed. The average person sleeps around 229,961 hours in their lifetime. That’s a lot of time in bed! Buy yourself a comfortable mattress (you should replace your mattress every 8-10 years), luxurious sheets and/or a memory foam pillow. Nice beds can be expensive, so start saving up for one now.

19. Learn basic repair. Get yourself a toolbox and learn some basic repair. You can find extensive articles online about everything from unclogging a drain, to tightening screws, and using caulk. Get familiar with these tools now, because you never know what type of landlord you’ll end up with. They could come promptly when requested to do repairs, or they might not.

20. Learn how to write a check. Okay but seriously- this is important. Do not let me catch you moving out of your parent’s house without knowing how to write a check. Here is @howtogrowthefuckup‘s two cents.

anonymous asked:

Hey! If you're still taking prompts, could you write about neil and Andrew having a conversation about Neil's past? Like the stuff he had to do to survive and the stuff he went through with the worlds shittiest parents? Also I'm pretty sure neil has killed people like it makes complete sense so maybe andreil talking about that?

There’s a band of pale blue light nipping at the tops of the trees and sharpening the silhouettes of the houses, but everything else is fresh and dark. Andrew smokes with the pack clenched in his fist, the cherry of the cigarette winking at the street lamps winking at the orange moon.

Their front porch isn’t like the rush of the rooftop, but he can get that same jitter of fear from Neil nowadays, and he’s more portable. He’d left him knotted in the bedsheets an hour ago, and knowing he’s inside somewhere at his back is burning him up. Andrew inhales and focuses on the exhale, the way the smoke still tries to hurt him when it should’ve given up. He likes that nicotine doesn’t leave him alone.

Neil slips out the front door and lets the screen door clatter, and Andrew knows that he’s upset before he sits down two steps below Andrew, holding his own head.

He doesn’t ask; just smokes fervently. The moon bobs its head sympathetically, wind catches the smoke and breaks it over Neil’s head like water on rocks.

It occurs to Andrew that Neil isn’t going to start this conversation, because he likes to think things through on his own, solve them wrong, and tell Andrew about his mistakes later. He’s insufferably convinced of his own problem-solving abilities, then obsessed with the mechanism of his own missteps.

“What?” Andrew asks impatiently. He flicks ash from his cigarette and holds it out in front of Neil’s face. Neil sidles through his own tangled thinking for long enough to glance up. He leans forward and sucks the smoke from between Andrew’s fingers.

When he looks away, gusting smoke from his open mouth, he says, “Matt called. We fought.”

You fought,” Andrew guesses.

Neil looks agitated, blue in the choked light, eyes black and furious. “He was being unfair. He keeps trying to tell me what’s right or wrong lately, because he thinks I’ve been— been deprived, like my experiences were outside of humanity, or morality, and it’s so— condescending.”

“You’re only realizing this now? All of the foxes are condescending. It is the only way they can avoid their own failure.”

“This was different,” Neil says, shaking his head. “I can tell when they’re saying things because they want to see my reaction, and this wasn’t that. He meant what he was saying.”

“And what was that?”

Neil goes gagged silent. He shifts backwards up to Andrew’s stair without looking at him, settling into the groove worn into the wood.

“That killing someone makes you a monster. That murder is the worst thing you can do to a person.”

Keep reading

ultimate-drama-queen  asked:

Hi. I love your blog and all the little headcannons (canon?) you do. I also noticed you're amazing for writing little stories for people who are having a tough time. Would it be too much to ask if I could have one? I'm suffering from a bout of depression/insomnia and I'm running on about 4 hours sleep in about 3 days. What do you think of Derek or Stiles getting insomnia from all the stuff they've seen and the other just cuddling them through it? Trying to stay awake so they're not alone?

Hey, sweetheart. The depression/insomnia combo is horrible. I don’t know if it will work for you but earlier this year I stumbled upon ASMR videos. I know some people find them weird but they really helped me when it came to getting to sleep. In the mean time, I hope this little fic does something to help. 

Stiles thought being able to sleep after the Nogitsune had been the universe’s way of balancing out the good and bad in his life: get possessed by a psychotic Japanese fox but sleep like a baby every night after. As it turned out, being able to sleep after a spirit uses your body to murder a bunch of people came down to the fact Stiles hadn’t had a break since finding Laura Hale’s body that night in the woods.   

He believed joining the academy would be a fresh start, and in many ways it was. He just didn’t count on the fact that now he didn’t have pure evil trying to kill him at every waking moment that his brain would finally find time to process it. Stiles had always been a fan of ignoring his problems until they eventually, just, go away; watching his friends die, looking down at his own body and knowing it wasn’t really his but the cardboard cutout left behind by the Nogitsune, the memory of watching Derek almost -

He assumed - stupidly - that he had been successful in that particular endeavour. As long as he had his pillow, he was fine. You’re going to be fine. That was what the faceless people of the internet said. Stiles didn’t think “fine” was ever going to be an option for him but he guessed hope was a nice sentiment. 

“Insomnia,” Scott said, repeating the word back to him. Stiles could practically hear the concern, loud and clear, ringing through the phone. It instantly made him feel worse. Heaving a sigh, he scrubbed a tired hand down his face. Maybe he shouldn’t have called.  

“Yes, insomnia.”

Scott was quiet for several seconds.  “Do you have your pillow?” he asked. 

“Yes,” Stiles answered. He was currently clutching it to his chest, sprawled out on his bedroom floor. It was 3am, the floor was hard, and if he didn’t get some sleep soon he was going to start crying; the kind of crying he hadn’t done since he was a kid and his mom took ill. 

“What about drugs?” Scott suggested. “I could ask my mom-”

“No drugs, Scott.”

“But-”

I said no drugs, Scott.” 

The line went quiet again and Stiles felt his eyes begin to sting. This was a mistake.

“Sorry, man, I have to go.” 

He hung up before Scott could respond, deciding he could feel guilty about it later.

~

At the academy, he was on auto-pilot. Luckily, Stiles had come up with some of his best plans during the last four years on little-to-no sleep, so it wasn’t overly obvious to his fellow agents-in-training that he needed several cups on coffee just to get through the day.

It was obvious to someone though. Someone who clearly thought it was their sworn duty to haul Stiles over their shoulder in the middle of his third run to the coffee shop that day and deposit him in the back of their car. 

Stiles wanted to protest - he should protest, call for help, maybe? - but he had had his eyes closed when the stranger grabbed him, had been drooling on a statue, leaning against it for moral support, as he had waited for his order.

Plus, the stranger’s arms felt nice. 

In the back of his mind, Stiles couldn’t decide if thinking a stranger’s arms felt nice during a potential kidnapping - fuck, please don’t let it be a supernatural kidnapping - was because of his sleep deprived state or if that was just the way he was wired now. 

It was only when a door opened and a familiar pair of eyebrows slid into the driver’s seat did Stiles begin to laugh. Hysterically. 

“Of course,” he said, shaking his head and pressing his lips against the cool leather interior. Familiar hands strapped him into the his seat. “Of course it’s you, big guy.”

Derek just gave a slight huff and muttered something Stiles couldn’t hear, but it sounded an awful lot like, yeah, I missed you, too. 

Stiles laughed again. It was crazy, what your mind came up with when it wasn’t functioning properly. 

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Trust

DAY 4 OF WHUMP WEEK- Torture.

I’m actually really proud of this one? It’s a bit longer than usual, and it’s very Keith-centric even though I’m whumping Lance because hi have you met me? I’m too invested in klance. I hope you enjoy!

@elsiemcclay aka the best person to run ideas and/or titles by. thanks friendo.


A groan sounded to Keith’s left, and he looked over immediately, trying to mask his relief with a glare. “Oh, good. He finally decided to wake up.”

“Hey, how many times do I have to tell you? Beauty sleep is important.” A pause. “Where are we again?”

Pidge snorted. “Guess that general hit him harder than we thought.”

“Lance! You’re okay! I was worried— that totally knocked you out, you hadn’t moved in a while,” Hunk rambled. “Does your head hurt?”

“Like hell,” Lance said, leaning back against the wall and pressing a hand to his forehead. “But nothing too serious. Thankfully, now that I’m conscious, I remember what happened. We’ve been captured, haven’t we?”

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As Friends Do (1566 words)

“Dean, this has to stop.” 
Sam comes barging in through Dean’s door just as he’s making himself comfortable on the bed, trying to watch the latest episodes of Dr. Sexy in peace.
“Cas is stressing me out. He asked me if I’m angry with him for the fourth time this week.” 
Dean takes off his earphones and puts the episode on hold. “And why exactly would that be my fault, Sammy?” he asks irritated. Sam takes a few steps forward until he’s directly at the edge of his bed, looming over him.
“You know exactly why.” He nods to the open door, probably somewhere vaguely into Cas’ direction. “According to him, the stuff you do with him is how friends behave when their friends come back from the dead, and he now apparently thinks that I don’t want to be his friend.” 
That makes Dean splutter and blush; the stuff – what is he even – he didn’t do anything – and everything he did was certainly – “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he finally croaks and slams the laptop shut because he’s definitely not in the mood to watch Netflix right now.
Sam rolls his eyes. “Dude, you’re all over him ever since he came back. And really” – he raises his hands defensively – “I don’t care, but please, just tell him what you feel for him so we can all get this over with.” 
“Jesus, can’t a guy show some hospitality to a new member of the household?” he grumbles, probably still red as a tomato. Yeah, maybe he did stretch the definition of friendship a few times ever since Cas came back, but really, that shouldn’t be an issue, right? He was just trying to make Cas feel as comfortable as possible.
“Dean, practically fondling the guy under your shared blanket on the couch doesn’t count as hospitality, it really doesn’t,” Sam says exasperatedly.
Okay, that had only been one time, and he hadn’t fondled the guy, Jesus, he had only stroked his knee because he had struck it against the counter earlier that day. He opens his mouth to tell Sam as much, but he doesn’t let him.
“And Dean, really, I love Cas – as a friend – but I’d be more than happy to never have to touch his general crotch area in my life.”
“I never –”
“So please, do me a favor and tell this guy that you’d like to bump uglies with him in an extremely unfriendly way so I can stop explaining to him why I don’t want to touch every part of his body and why I never stand up at 5 am to make his favorite pancakes.” He points a finger at Dean. “Don’t even try to deny it, I’ve seen it with my own eyes.” 
Dean’s mouth opens and closes like a fish as he struggles to find words; maybe, eventually, Sam is, at least technically, right. He certainly wouldn’t be averse to do… stuff that’s not covered by a friendship with Cas, but he’s also pretty sure that Cas wouldn’t want that, so why the fuck should he even care? 
The fact that Cas expects the same treatment from Sam, for God’s sake, makes it clear that he’s not really into the whole feel–up–Dean–thing – or maybe he’s a kinky fucker and wants them both, but then – nope. He’s not going to go there.
“Dean,” Sam says again, more urgently this time. “I could probably hear your thoughts across the pond right now. If you really think that Cas is trying to get into my pants, I’m going to have to sue you for ingraining this image onto my eyeballs.” 
“I wasn’t – okay, shut the fuck up. I’m going to talk to Cas. But not about having sex with him, Jesus. I don’t –”
“Don’t even say it. I’m not even listening anymore, I’m done with your bullshit.” Sam puts his fingers in his ears and wanders off, mockingly whistling a cheerful tone. This jerk. 
“Alright, fine,” he tells himself and takes a deep breath. He can talk to Cas. Sure. He’s not sure yet what he’s supposed to say, but he can definitely bullshit his way through all of this. Sam’s just not that much of a hugger. Sam values his sleep over making pancakes, and he’d probably burn them anyway. Sam isn’t used to sharing a blanket because he’s so big he needs at least two for himself. 
Excellent. Now he just needs to tell that to Cas.

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queen-padme  asked:

Hi! I'm sorry to bother you but I was wondering if you've ever done an icon tutorial? Your icons are really the most beautiful I've seen, and I'd love to know your secrets 😊. But if you aren't interested in posting them I totally understand. I hope you're having a great day!!

EXTENDED ICON TUTORIAL

Hey sorry this took so long to get around to but I finally felt inspired to make this. A couple things first. I want to give a special shout out to argetnallison cuz I learned how to make icons from her tutorials here. I picked up a few tips and tricks that aren’t included in other tutorials so we’re gonna call this an extended icon tutorial. I’ve also been told I explain things well but if there’s anything from this that needs clearing up later just send me a message and i will be happy to help guide you through it. This Is my first time making a tutorial so bare with me if I ramble. 

we will be going from this:

to this

to this 

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anonymous asked:

Hi! I only recently managed to watch the finale (darn real life commitments getting in the way) but can I ask what about it was so meta? I think dabb said that this finale was the most meta, but I guess I'm a bit slow on the uptake because I don't think I got it?

Hi! 

If you check out my tag #spn 12x23 meta you should find it all there.

13x01 is set up to be 1x01 but in REVERSE. They are entering endgame by subverting the pilot and I am SO HERE for this!

As “All along the Watchtower” suggests (the song that ends back at the beginning), we have:

- Mary and John reversal. John is dead, Mary is missing, they want to find Mary: FINDING MISSION.

- Cas = Jess. Dean is Sam and Sam is Dean, they’re reversed. Hence this scene:

Originally posted by constiellation

Dean and Sam hunting alone, but now Dean is put in Sam’s place and Sam in Dean’s: reversal of roles in their brotherly relationship, also now Dean is no longer Sam’s parent this will also make a difference in how they interact.

- Revenge mission, just rather than on Azazel, on Lucifer

13x01 is set up to be 1x01 but in REVERSE.

Which also is another bow to the string of setting it up for the positive ending rather than the tragic ending that it was originally supposed to have and was metaphorically addressed in 12x22 with the grenade launcher blowing apart the “blaze of glory” ending.

- That they will find Mary and she hopefully won’t have to sacrifice herself for her son, or if she does it will be Sam (as John did for Dean) and she will go to Heaven. 

- That Dean will get Cas back as it is so clearly framed as romantic now I’m not going to apologise for ‘shipping’ this (is it even shipping when it’s canon?), it is canonically romantic and stuff like this just makes it more obvious. So anyway, Dean will get Cas back as a reversal of Sam and Jess’ tragic story. 

- That they will find a way to defeat Lucifer that also closes the gates of Hell because it was by defeating Azazel that they opened them in the first place. Or perhaps they just end up doing it around the same time but heck, if Crowley’s death didn’t suggest that the two are supposed to be linked.

I’ve talked a lot and so have all the other meta writers about all the parallels and the circular narrative of the season, how Dabb loves to subvert the past and use mirrors and parallels etc. 

Here we are talking about the fundamental underlying themes of the show, the PREMISE being reversed and I am PSYCHED as this is going to be amazing and absolutely makes sense going into endgame!

I think we should all watch season 1 before season 13 airs.

OK scratch that, according to posts last night from @mittensmorgul and @elizabethrobertajones we should DEFINITELY all go and watch season 1 before season 13 starts!!!

If Dean says “we’ve got work to do” I’ll scream ;)

whiterose-blackrose  asked:

Austisic!Peter and MJ. MJ knows Peter's autistic because of all the subtle things he does. Like, she's super observant and stuff so she knows when he's getting overstimulated or when he needs something to stim with. She doesn't mention it, but she has a shit ton of stim toys and super soft pieces of fabric in her bag (under all the books to kinda hide them). I love the idea that she knows he's Spiderman and she always gives Spider-Man something to stim with if she sees him.

the first time mj notices it is during their sophomore year of high school, when she’s watching him during band practice. she watches everyone, sometimes to draw them, sometimes so she can mimic them, sometimes just bc she feels like it. but she likes watching peter the most. he makes her head calm down a bit, like how it does when she listens to music or when she opens a brand new hardcover book.

he’s sitting there holding his triangle (what a nerd, who plays the triangle) looking focused on when exactly he should ring it. he’s tense all the time lately, and he’s always pulling ned aside to talk about “big bird” whoever that is. but then suddenly flash comes up behind him and plays the trumpet directly into peter’s ear. anyone would jump at that, and peter definitely jumps. but what catches mj’s eye is what happens when everyone is laughing, when peter sits down and people kind of stop focusing on him. he drops his triangle down and shakes out his wrist, he quickly hits his hand to the side of his head and closes his eyes really tightly.

it’s a familiar thing to look at. mj doesn’t hit herself, but she gets that urge sometimes when she’s trying to keep her meltdown at bay. when she can feel the sensory overload and the overstimulation trying to take her over and she wants to push it back down, and sometimes she’ll feel herself wanting to physically hit it.

she goes back to reading, but she only really begins paying attention to the plot of the book once peter appeared to calm down. then she felt calm again too. before they go she slips one of her stim toys into peter’s bag when he’s up putting away the triangle, and she doesn’t say anything when she sees him quietly playing with it the next day.

the second time she notices is late into their sophomore year towards the beginning of summer vacation. peter is sitting on the subway after class, probably on his way home. he’s seemed happier lately, it radiates off of him. apparently he got his stark internship back, and he’s even regularly coming to decathlon practice again. mj tells herself that she only cares about his decathlon attendance, she is the captain after all.

mj is sat behind him on the subway and she hears him muttering to himself. again, this is normal for anybody to do. but he’s writing in his notebook, and he’s making funny sounds. she peers over his shoulder and sees a bunch of formulas and spider doodles and science jargon and then leans back into her seat.

peter loves science. LOVES science. everybody knows that. they all go to a science school, but peter’s the only one she really knows who actually gets dreamy eyes when he talks about astrophysics and chemistry, and he can talk about it for hours. literally, hours. and right now it’s clear that his love for science is standing strong, he’s in his own little world right now. mj can hear him making happy squeaks and it feels familiar.

when she finds herself delighted she usually makes noises, happy trills and squeaks. neurotypical people give her funny looks when that happens, it’s annoying and rains on her parade. it isn’t as if she can even help it, and she doesn’t understand why it’s so weird. she tries to keep those noises in, but they still come out when she reads a particularly good passage in a book. and that seems to be what’s happening to peter. his shoulders tense everytime a happy warbled squeak comes out, and he begins scribbling more furiously into his notepad

he looks over his shoulder to see if anyone’s heard him and then startles when he sees mj sitting there. she raises her eyebrow at him and he blushes and turns around, and she can see him begin to bounce slightly in his seat.

mj goes back to reading but in the back of her head she feels things popping up. spider doodles in peter’s notebook. talking about a big bird with ned. dropping out of all his extracurricular besides decathlon. the whole incident in washington DC. she doesn’t know why she’s thinking about it, or why she knows that it’s all related. or even how she knows it’s related. she just chooses to read instead. if she slips another stim toy into peter’s bag, well, that’s out of her control.

the third time mj notices is during the summer. and it isn’t really with peter, at least not the peter he wants her to know about.

she’s at a small shop at around eleven at night, dressed in pajamas with her bag slung over her shoulder and a pack of hot cheetos in her hand. and then suddenly the shop is being robbed, and a gun is being pointed at her face. and her mind disconnects. her head is equal parts chaos and calm, thoughts are rushing around her brain but they’re going so quickly that it almost feels as if there are none. of course this is how she’s gonna die. of course she’s gonna fucking die in a corner shop at 11:07 pm in her flannel pajamas all because she wanted a bag of hot cheetos. of course that’s –

“you and i have to stop meeting like this,” peter chimes in, swinging into the shop and kicking the robber in the face. the gun falls onto the floor. “oh, my bad, you aren’t the criminal i thought you were. you guys really need to stop wearing masks, i can’t tell you apart.”

but oh wait. that isn’t peter. that’s spider-man. but that’s definitely peter’s voice. huh.

mj breaks herself out of her head and runs towards the gun on the ground just as the robber reaches for it, and she stomps onto his hand before he can grab it. the guy screams and mj just shoves her boot harder onto his hand.

“we make a great team!” spider-man cheers, shooting some webbing onto the guy’s legs

a few quips and thwips later and the robber is being seated into the back of a cop car. mj is sitting on the curb of the sidewalk munching away on some hot cheetos. and spider-man is walking up to her.

“you okay?” he asked, voice strained tightly.

“mhm,” mj hums. she’s pretty sure that she’s okay. time will tell. “are you?”

spidey startles. “of course i am, it’s my job, i love this stuff!”

“just because it’s your job, and just because you like it, doesn’t mean you’re okay.”

spidey kind of shrugs at that and sits down next to her on the curb. “i’m okay, just a bit shook up. he had a gun pointed at your head.”

“yeah,” mj sighs. “want a cheeto?”

they sit in a comfortable silence while they share the bag of cheetos, neither really wanting to talk but neither really wanting to leave each other. mj notices that spidey keeps shaking out his wrist, keeps bringing his hand up to his face to tap harshly at the lenses of his mask. she reaches into her bag.

“here,” she says, shoving a stim toy into his hand. “this one can be chewed on and pulled apart, it’s really neat. don’t worry, i haven’t chewed on it at all so you’re good to go.”

spidey gawks at her, mouth falling open. his lips are really red from the snacks. “um…. thanks. do you give these to everyone?”

mj pops another cheeto into her mouth and chews quickly. “nah, just you.”

spidey leans against her side and begins to aggressively pull on the toy. “thanks, mj.”

she decides not to point out that she never gave him her name.

anonymous asked:

Hi, what exactly is Stargate (like, what is the plot, how many seasons, that kind of thing)? I've seen it mentioned in combination with Leverage in some of your posts, and I've sort of picked up some of the character names from being on the internet, but I'm still not sure what it actually is. Thanks!!

What a delightful question that I’m going to have a ridiculous amount of fun answering, probably using too many gifs.

First, the bare bones facts: Stargate is a franchise that began with the 1994 movie Stargate, which was then developed into the TV show Stargate: SG-1 which began in 1997 and picked up about a year after the movie ended. SG-1 had 10 seasons and 2 made-for-TV movies. There are also 2 spinoffs, Stargate: Atlantis and Stargate: Universe. Atlantis has 5 seasons, and its first season coincides with season 8 of SG-1, with both beginning in 2004, with some fun but not strictly essential crossover between the two. Universe has 2 seasons and began in 2009, after both SG-1 and Atlantis had ended. I mostly blog about SG-1, but I enjoy all three shows and will at least briefly explain Atlantis and Universe in the course of this post, FOR FUNSIES.

The basic premise of the whole thing is that there are these devices (built by aliens, OF COURSE) called Stargates, which create wormholes that allow for basically instantaneous travel between planets all throughout the Milky Way (and other galaxies as well, it turns out, but that’s later).

The movie involves the US Air Force, with the help of the BEST FICTIONAL ARCHAEOLOGIST IN EXISTENCE FIGHT ME, figuring out how to work the Stargate, using it to travel to another planet, and helping the locals overthrow the evil parasitic alien who was posing as the Egyptian god Ra in order to enslave them.

SG-1 starts with Earth humans learning that “Ra” actually belonged to an entire race of evil parasitic aliens who used the personas of various gods to enslave humans throughout the galaxy. At which point, NATURALLY, the plucky Earth humans say “fuck that shit” and also “ooh, a whole galaxy to explore, HOLD MY BEER” and start having adventures and liberating the galaxy.

Atlantis is about Earth humans finally discovering the lost city of Atlantis over in another galaxy, and the adventures and struggles they have setting up a colony there. Also, space vampires.

Universe is about a bunch of Earth humans accidentally stranding themselves aboard an alien-built spaceship that is going they don’t know where in order to find the meaning of life, the universe, and everything. It’s much darker and more sort of psychological than the other two shows. Also more diverse. I like it a lot, but for different reasons than I like SG-1 and Atlantis.

SG-1 owns my heart, because it’s the show that helped me fall in love with sci-fi. Also, it has Dr. Daniel Jackson. It wrestles with what it means to be human and ethics and all kinds of really good shit. It’s not perfect, and the early seasons especially have some pretty major issues with sexism and white savior complexes in certain episodes, but overall I personally find it more than worth it, and the main reason is the characters, who you now get to hear me yell about my love for.

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Protective

Requested: Are you taking requests rn? If you are, can you do one where y/n is on tour with Shawn and him and all his crew peeps are like super protective over her wherever they go (like in public and at the venue and stuff)

~~~

You’re at Shawn’s hotel in Italy, and you knew that he had fans, lots of fans, but this feels like a whole new level. You, Shawn, and the rest of his team are standing in the lobby, not wanting to risk going outside right now. You can see the fans as a giant hoard outside of the hotel. As much as none of you want to leave through that, you know you need to get to the venue soon in order for Shawn to have enough time to sound check and get ready to play the show. Because of this, they’re desperately trying to find a way to get Shawn outside and into the car without getting mobbed by the masses of fans.

Shawn has two bodyguards ready to walk with him. He knows better than to try to hold your hand through the crowd because that makes it worse for both of you. He knows you’ll get mobbed even more, the closer you are to him. Before you exit through the doors, Shawn gently pulls you closer to himself while he still can, asking, “You going to be okay?” Knowing you actually hate crowds.

You nod, trying to reassure him. At the same time, Geoff walks up beside you, “I got her.” He tells Shawn, and Shawn nods gratefully. This happens all the time. Shawn has trained bodyguards to make sure that he doesn’t get hurt in the crowds and chaos, but you have Geoff, who’s just as good. He always protects you through the crowds because he knows Shawn can’t. 

When the doors open, Shawn gets sent out first. With one last glance back to make sure that Geoff is with you, he pastes a smile on his face and steps out to meet the screams. Andrew somehow materialized from nowhere, along with Zubin. Andrew takes the front, and Zubin moves to the side of you that Geoff is not on. “It’s extra crazy today,” Zubin comments, purposely walking close to you, and keeping the fans from attacking, or accidentally trampling you.

When you make it into the car, Andrew lets you in first, and Shawn’s already inside. “Are you okay?” Shawn immediately questions once you get in. “Yeah,” You respond honestly, “I had three bodyguards you only had two.” You joke, and it takes Shawn a second to understand what you’re talking about, but when he sees Andrew getting in the car followed by Zubin and Geoff, he just smiles, and responds, “Good, that’s how it should be.”

CROSSOVER AU

okay so @all-you-see-is-nightmare-eyes and i have been talking about an au where connor, evan, jeremy and michael met and it got shippy. very detailed /cries/ headcannons below.

- The main reason the four of them met was because they found each other at the orchard. Evan and Connor were on a date, they had a picnic ready and everything, and Michael wanted to explore the place so Jeremy was forced to come with him.

- Michael had tripped on one of the paths and fell off of it, down the slight slope they were on, right in front of Connor and Evan. Evan nearly had a heart attack when it happened, and when Jeremy came running down, he nearly had one all over again. Connor was just confused.

- Well, after Jeremy made sure Michael was okay, the four of them talked a little. And, with the awkward introductions thrown aside, they immediately hit it off. Evan and Connor thought the two of them were cool and full of funny stories, and Jeremy and Michael thought that they were pretty chill and nice.

- Somehow, an hour had passed and the boyf riends had somehow edged their way into the tree bros date - and they didn’t mind at all.

- Eventually, Connor and Evan decided that they had to go and gathered their things with the help of Jeremy and Michael. Jeremy kept apologising for barging in on their date, so much so that Evan of all people had to calm him down.

- They walked to their seperate cars, but before any of them could get in and drive away, Connor ran over and asked for their numbers. The boyf riends gave him their numbers, and he texted both of them Evan’s number. After that, they all left.

- And just like that, a group chat was made and they were all texting day and night.

- Turns out Michael and Jeremy lived the next town over - an hour away from Evan and Connor.

- Evan and Connor visited one time during the weekend, expecting to hang out for a couple of hours and then head back home - they ended up staying the entire weekend.

- Eventually, the tree bros came over to visit every weekend, sometimes during the weekdays for the hell of it.

- They all torture Jeremy’s dad for fun tbh.

- “wow you actually wear pants - i really wanted to see the ducky underwear you own”

- “thanks mr. ducky - i mean mr. heere.”

- Eventually Michael and Jeremy visit Evan and Connor for the first time, and they all end up going to Evan’s house because Connor’s house is a “no-go”, as he says.

- EVERYONE LOVES HEIDI. IT’S A FACT SORRY I DON’T MAKE THE RULES.

- None of them have spoken about the Squips or the suicide attempts. They feel like they should just hide it and act like normal kids.

- One day Evan is just kind of watching the boyf riends play video games as Connor draws. He notices how Jeremy sticks the tip of his tongue out when he’s concentrated, how Michael’s eyes sparkle every time he beats a level, how they loudly shriek in sync when something bad happens and he. just. realizes how much he loves them.

- Evan gets all awkward and blushy around the three of them and every time they try to touch him or ask what’s wrong he just says he’s fine and pulls away.

- “did we do something wrong?” “I - I - I’M F - FINE”

- Since they’re have their regular “sleepover all weekend” things, Jeremy decides that they should camp outside because Evan likes nature, right? The rest of them agree.

- When they all go outside, they find a fireplace and decide to gather sticks and stuff for firewood.

- Michael and Connor totally fight each other with the sticks. it’s a fact.

- Eventually they all calm down and Jeremy gets a fire lit, and they’re just talking about things. Heavy things, the things they usually try not to talk about.

- Somehow, none of them slip up about the suicide attempts or the Squips, but when Evan speaks up he talks about how he feels like he’s a burden and that he’ll never be good enough for anything.

- The boys immediately jump to action, saying that they all like Evan so much, so god damn much and that they would probably die for him.

- Evan is so overwhelmed by the response - here are these beautiful men, all looking at him, worry and affection displayed on their dimly lit faces and. Evan just. explodes.

- “I think I’m in love with all of you?” And they boys are shocked, but Evan continues. “I don’t know how - I didn’t even think it was humanly possible but here we are?? And like it’s scary because I can’t even handle having a crush on one person, so why three? Why now? Why -”

- And Michael just cuts him off and says “I love you too.”

- And Jeremy and Connor just share a look and sigh in relief and they’re both like “yeah we kind of talked to eachother about our feelings already we were just waiting for you two..”

- So now there’s four blushing boys sitting in a backyard at 2 am, having spilled their feelings out for each other, unaware of what to do next.

- And then Michael asks Evan if he can kiss him and Evan is like “!!!!!!!!” and nods, and they share a small kiss.

- Jeremy speaks up, his face flushed as he talks. “Are we all.. dating now?”

- Connor and Evan share a look and smile.

- “Yeah, we are.”

THAT’S IT FOR NOW BYE

All We Can Do
crystal-geometry
All We Can Do

A cheeky song about Garnet (and the others) looking after baby Steven!

Tagging the usual crowd plus some who I think might like it: @bluespacequeen @jen-iii @jasper-jen @basicblokc @harley-stuck-30

This is based on two one-shots, whose writers have very kindly let me use. The first is this one by @cardassian-andorian - the first verse is basically lifted from it (with adjustments for rhyming). The second is A Moment of Rest by @squaremomgsquad. Both are lovely adorable pieces with a wholesome dose of Rupphire as well, so go read them and leave all the reviews! The rest of the song is my own stuff. It’s also the first I’ve recorded with my new mic so I hope the buzz is slightly less!

If you like this song, check out my other 2 Steven Universe fansongs!


Lyrics (cut because it’s very wordy):

He’s on the warp pad, in the fridge, he’s on the couch, he’s on the ladder

He’s outside, inside, on the roof, floor, television, kitchen counter

He’s crawling everywhere, and Garnet’s got to keep her wits about her - her future vision’s going wild…

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KEITHS VLOG BROKE MY HEART SO HERES A FIC

MEGA THANKS to @hastalalaterkeith7152 for sending me quotes from the vlog so I could write this without internet and also motivating me


“I think it’s dumb.”

“Well of course you would, mullet,” Lance retorted.

“I’m just saying, there are better things we could be doing,” Keith fumed.

Lance raised an eyebrow. “Like what?”

“Hm, I don’t know, maybe trying to find Lotor?”

“Okay, that’s enough,” Shiro interrupted. “We haven’t found any trace of Lotor, so in the meantime, why not strengthen the coalition? It will be good for our allies to know more about their ‘defenders of the universe.’”

“Exactly,” Lance said. “So, Keith, get your butt in there and make a vlog!”

“I don’t even know what that is.”

Lance groaned. “Come on, mullet, it’s not rocket science. Vlog. Video. Log,” he drew the words out, one at a time. “Like a journal, but as a video.”

“What am I supposed to say?”

“Anything you want,” Shiro said. “Just be careful not to give away sensitive information, in case these ever get into the wrong hands.”

“Right. Sounds easy,” Keith muttered under his breath. Why couldn’t somebody else go first? That would make it easier. So far only Coran had done it, and Keith had learned from experience not to follow his example when it came to film making. But Pidge, Hunk, Allura, and Coran were all working on castle upgrades, and Lance and Shiro had a one-on-one training session planned. That left Keith to sit alone in what Coran had deemed ‘the recording room,’ talking about himself. Something he’d never been particularly good at.

“Hey, man, take it easy,” Lance said. “No need to cry over it.”

“I’m not,” Keith said, confused.

Lance groaned again. “It was a joke.”

Of course it was a joke. Lance always made jokes. And they always flew right over Keith’s head.

“I’m not going to cry,” he said in frustration, after the door to the recording room had slid shut behind him. He sat down. Took a deep breath. Turned on the camera.

“I’m Keith, the pilot of the black lion…what should I say?” he asked. “I’m a paladin. I fly the black lion. I-I said that already, see that’s why I’m bad at this. What else am I supposed to tell you? Okay, um, I guess I’m part Galra…”

After stammering through an introduction, finding words seemed a little easier. Whenever they visited planets, people always seemed most interested—or disgusted—to learn about his heritage, so he opted to talk about that for a little while, pulling out his knife to try and bring up the memories of the trials. Then he remembered what Shiro had said about sensitive information. Maybe talking about the Blade’s secrets wasn’t such a good idea.

Keith paused, staring down at the knife, at his reflection in the shiny, rare metal. “I guess being part Galra is a big deal. Might explain why I was never really good at…connecting with people.” He thought back to the events on Arus, how Lance had tried to teach him some sort of team chant. He still thought it was dumb, not as dumb as this video, but still dumb enough. He said as much, and before he realized what he was doing, his face was heating up and he was raising his voice in anger. Why did he have to get angry so easily?

“I am so sorry,” Keith said, remembering all their allies would be watching this. He leaned back, closed his eyes to calm down. “I am so sorry, I guess…I have a bit of a temper, so…”

Words were becoming hard again. Sticking to his heritage, Keith realized, might also not be the best idea. He didn’t know enough to talk about it with the ease he’d like. And not knowing was making him angry. Not knowing where he came from. Not knowing where his mom went. Not knowing why she left.

Words were hard, but for some reason Keith couldn’t seem to make them stop coming out his mouth. Emotions were rushing out, and he couldn’t keep them bottled up anymore, but this wasn’t the time or place. There was never a time or place for the leader of Voltron to break down.

Breathing was getting hard, too. He felt tears coming, sniffled once, and frantically thought of a way to cover this up. But it was too late. He’d spilled his guts and now everyone was going to know, the team was going to know, the allied planets would know, the universe would know that Keith Kogane was just some scared little kid lost in space.

“I'm—I’m outta here! Get me outta here,” he muttered, getting to his feet. “I'm—I’m outta here!”

He couldn’t do it. He couldn’t pilot Black, he couldn’t lead Voltron, even with Shiro back, hell, he couldn’t even make a damn vlog, whatever the hell that was. It was frustration more than anything that made him yell, “I said I wouldn’t cry!”

Keith stalked out of the recording room, the colours of the hallway swirling together as tears blurred his vision. It occurred to him that he’d left the camera on, but he didn’t care. He just needed to be alone. He was already alone. He was always alone. He was a loner. Right now, he needed to be alone somewhere safe from discovery.

He stumbled into his bedroom. He was dizzy, he couldn’t walk straight, he couldn’t think straight. He didn’t want to be here. He didn’t want to be a leader. He didn’t want to be a paladin. He just wanted to be home, alone in his cozy little desert shack, back when he liked being alone, when it was easy to pretend he didn’t care about his parents, when he had no idea that he was an alien.

Keith was really crying now, hot, messy tears dripping down his face. The armor that encased his shaking body was too tight, too constricting. He fumbled to get it off, piece by piece, fingers slipping over the smooth surface as he trembled with sobs, until eventually he gave up and sank to the floor. He was all alone. Nobody wanted him. Nobody cared. Why would they? All he’d ever done was push them away.

He wasn’t sure how long he stayed like that, crouched in the middle of his room with his head in his hands. Surely there were better things he could be doing right now. Like trying to find Lotor. Or training. He could’ve taken down the gladiator at least twice by now.

The sound of the door sliding open was barely audible. Just a gentle whoosh, a whoosh Keith had heard many times before. He didn’t pay it any attention, even as someone walked into the room and knelt beside him. He felt a hand on his back, rubbing up and down, slow and gentle, heard soft words being murmured in his ear. He tried to focus on that.

“Hey, Keith. Hey, it’s okay. Shhh, it’s okay, Keith, you’re alright.”

Keith swallowed hard and steeled himself to meet the kind pair of blue eyes that looked down at him.

“L-Lance?”

“Yeah, buddy, it’s me,” Lance smiled worriedly. He brushed tear-soaked bangs from Keith’s face. “Can you tell me what’s wrong?”

“I—” Keith froze. That was just the problem. He could never bring himself to open up. He never told anybody what was wrong. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t seem to take down all the walls he’d spent years putting up.

“It’s okay,” Lance soothed. “You can talk to me.”

“No, I can’t!” Keith cried, much louder than he’d meant to. Lance flinched. “Can’t you see that I can’t talk to you? I can’t talk to anybody! I’m no good at it. I can’t connect with people, I can’t open up. Nobody likes me, and I try so hard, but I can’t make people like me because I always push them away and I don’t mean to but it just happens because I don’t know how to do it any different and then I’m all alone but I don’t want to be alone anymore but I can't…I just…I can’t.”

“Keith.” Lance’s strong, steady hands found Keith’s shoulders. His voice was soft, caring. “What are you talking about, man? You’re not alone. I’m right here. I’m always here for you.”

Keith wiped viciously at the tears stained on his cheeks. He didn’t say anything. He didn’t know what to say.

“Let’s get off the floor, huh?” Lance suggested. Keith nodded. Lance guided him to his feet and helped him take off the pieces of armor he’d missed. Keith tried to do it on his own, but he felt so clumsy and useless he ended up just standing there while Lance reduced him to the black bodysuit that was underneath all their armor.

Lance sat them both down on the edge of the bed, keeping an arm around Keith’s shoulders. He was still warm and a little bit sweaty from training, but Keith didn’t care. It felt good, Keith realized. It felt good to be close to someone and have them look out for you.

“We all care about you, Keith,” Lance said. “You do know that, right?”

“I…” Keith paused, “don’t know.”

“Well, we do. All of us. And yeah, okay, I guess your people skills could use a little work, but we know you’re trying. You’re part of the team, Keith. You’re family.” Lance squeezed his shoulder, smiling. Keith looked at him uncertainly. “What is it?” Lance asked.

“I’ve never had that before,” Keith admitted.

“You’d better get used to it,” Lance chimed. “Because we’re not going anywhere. We love you, man.”

“I love you too,” Keith managed. He was tearing up again. Lance pulled him in for a hug, and Keith went with his instinct to hug him back. Things weren’t great, but with Lance here, they were better. Speaking of which…

“How did you know to come find me?” Keith asked.

Lance ducked his head. “I, uh, kinda saw your vlog. You left the camera running.”

“The vlog,” Keith moaned. “I don’t know what I was thinking, saying all that stuff. And now the universe is going to see it. What do I do, Lance?”

“Don’t worry about it. It hasn’t been sent anywhere yet, and I’ll bet there’s a way we can delete it. And we could make a new one.”

“I don’t think my second time around will be any better,” Keith frowned.

“We’ll do it together,” Lance grinned. “We’ll call it ‘Get to Know the Two Bravest Paladins of Voltron!’ Razzle dazzle, right?”

“Yeah,” Keith chuckled. “Razzle dazzle.”

anonymous asked:

hi! this is a bit of a strange question but i was wondering: how do you deal with fandom frustration? when you love fandom content but frequently feel frustrated by a large portion of the fan base? i'm a fandom baby in a lot of ways and sometimes though i feel like a jerk, it's so hard not to let other people overpower my experience. i love hearing your thoughts on everything in general, but. if you have the time i'd love to hear your thoughts on this as well. hope you have a nice day. :)

hmm! this is a great question and one I’m not 100% sure of how to answer, because for the most part I have had very positive fandom experiences. but when it comes to making your fandom experience as relaxed & fun as possible, here are my tips:

1) accept right now and forever that everyone does fandom differently, and everyone is in fandom for different reasons and to get different things out of it. it doesn’t matter if people don’t ship what you ship. it doesn’t matter if they write stories of which the summary makes you recoil in horror. they are not doing this at you. accept that you are going to do you, and everyone else is going to do themselves, and unless their shit spills over into your personal space (see point 3)) then there is literally no point in trying to control the fannish experience that anyone else is having. fandom’s a large space! there’s room for everyone! 

so the thing to do is:

2) CURATE YOUR FANNISH EXPERIENCE. I’ve been doing this since ye olde days of livejournal and do it even more intensely now. essentially: find the people you like, and the parts of fandom you like, and carve out your own corners where you can hang with like-minded people. you don’t have to be right in the thick of it, reading everything, interacting with everything and everyone. you don’t have to track all the tags which are crammed full of stuff that annoys you. you can take it slowly, and be discerning.

if you want to read meta, find the people who write it and follow them. ditto art. learn to embrace ao3’s excellent search function, and to use a tumblr blacklist. if you want to read fic and are bemoaning the fact that none of it is quite what you want: write your own! enthuse about your ideas on tumblr! leave prompts on kinkmemes! befriend some writers! I have to admit I am still pretty lost when it comes making friends on tumblr because the etiquette is bizarre and variable, but hey: the messaging system exists, askboxes exist, comments on ao3 exist. sure, different people have different levels of openness to making new bosom friends, but nobody minds being engaged. we’re in fandom to be fannish, together. 

3) if people are being jerks in your space, block ‘em. ignore ‘em. delete ‘em. I am not even remotely internet famous enough to be at risk of being deluged by trolls, but on the rare occasions that I’ve engaged in good faith and subsequently decided that I was being concern-trolled, I’ve noped cheerfully out of there. the few accusatory or unpleasant anon (because they’re always anon!) messages that have landed in my inbox, I’ve deleted without batting an eye. sometimes I share it with a friend via chat or email and we have a laugh about it, and that helps settle any residual hurt or irritation that I might feel. I’m a grown fucking woman. I keep a calm sympathetic face while being shouted at, cried on, confided in, manipulated, and projected onto, for a living. and I have zero qualms about policing the boundaries of the spaces I’ve carved out for myself–the fun, creative, relaxing, incredible places–in fandom.

4) manage your entitlement. just remind yourself every so often that nobody owes you the next chapter of that story, or the exact piece of art you want to see, or the paragraph-long comment, or the attention you crave, or the whole-hearted agreement you seek. remember that everyone has their own lives, and you’re never seeing the full picture. be gracious. be kind. try to resist the urge to snipe and snark and finger-point and complain in public; I enjoy a bit of fandom bitching as much as the next person, but I inflict it all on my friends, in chat.

5) the flipside of this is: show appreciation of the things you like. comment on that story. reblog that art with a furious tag spiral of capslock (creators LOVE tag spirals). put together a rec list–this is also a great way to show people what kind of things you like, so people who share your tastes know who to gravitate towards.

if you are frequently frustrated by a large portion of the fanbase, anon, then ask yourself: are you reading the comments? ie. are you making yourself engage with parts of fandom where people have THE WRONG OPINIONS and are writing your beloved characters THE WRONG WAY? if so: just scroll past. don’t read it. unless you really enjoy an argument, don’t feel obliged to reblog it with a detailed explanation of why they’re wrong: you’re gonna frustrate yourself and, yes, maybe end up looking like a jerk. just shrug and move on. maybe this isn’t the corner for you.

I have been following my own advice in this regard for almost 14 years. I’ve kept a handful of enduring and awesome friends from most of the major fandoms I’ve been part of, and I’m still making new ones, and I’ve (mostly) managed to avoid wank. I write what I like, and I read what I like, and I try to communicate generously and enthusiastically with people who are creating the things that I enjoy.

tl;dr - seek out the things that make you feel good, and follow them. weed out the things that make you feel bad, and ignore them. it’s fandom. it can be as serious or unserious as you like, but it IS supposed to be fun.

Mutual feeling - 2

Helloo! So here i present you the awaited part. Please guys talk to me yeah? I’d love to get to know about you all. Feedbacks are really appreciated.

Part 1

Warning: Mild language and cuss words. 

Word count :: 1877



Harry’s POV


 
I laid wide awake in the bed that was hot enough to provide me warmth but somehow it couldn’t. The fact I was naked with a naked body of Grace pressed up against me as she slept peacefully was making it worse for some reason. I felt a wave of regret sweeping my inner emotions taking it all away. My thought and feeling were colliding creating a mess. I was feeling ashamed of myself for getting all thrown off balance because of false feelings that never existed and now lying nude beside her made me feel more of a disgrace for using her body.

It’s not like I wanted to have sex with her but it all just lead this way when I kissed her drowned into emotions. And now I regret for not swimming back up when all the mistaken feelings were dragging me down.

The intangible thing-feeling that I thought was love, wasn’t it. It was just an attraction towards grace that was just a misconception of my mind as love. When my lips kissed hers, I din’t get the sparks, when my tongue tied with hers, when her lips were trailing down my neck, when she connected me to hers, all the time I din’t feel anything. The feelings, the sparks, the butterflies everything was nil unlike the times that was spent with y/n. Whenever her soft pink lips touched mine, there was this peculiar feeling that was different from the feelings i got with other girls. It was something familiar, like it belonged to me and only me. Like she belonged to me. There’s always a kind of gesture that spoke how affectionate she was towards me. She never felt foreign to me, but always like a home.

I sighed and rubbed my face with my hands. Though the air in the room was filled with Grace’s scent, somehow I manged to find y/n fragrance in the room. I picked my tee off the floor that was discarded a few hours back and brought it to my nose. It smelled like me and her. The mixed scent of our perfumes made me go weak at knees. It felt like we belonged to each other, like we were tied to each other. Maybe my thoughts were was mixed up with the persons not the feeling? Maybe I did felt love but not for grace, for y/n.

I closed my eyes and questioned myself, did I loved her? Yes I did.

It all made sense to me.The person whom I loved wasn’t Grace but y/n. I never met grace alone but whenever she was with Y/n. I always got sparks and butterflies seeing her or that’s how I thought, But all the emotions were for y/n. Grace was just a distraction of my mind but y/n, she was the attraction of my heart. My eyes always lit up seeing y/n and they did too when she was with grace but that time I thought it was grace lightening them up. And now when I realize it is too late. I already let her go.

Flashback.

““I uh great. It’s amazing Harry. Y-you should go and tell her as soon as possible” y/n smiled more like faked a smile. I could see tiny droplets of water in her eyes and her nose turning red. She was about to cry and I could sense it. In these past months I got to know her the closest and deepest not like anybody else did.

"you uh don’t look happy” I said and raised my hand to cup her right cheek that only to be shoved away by her. That hurt me. She has always been very affectionate towards me.

“what’s the matter?” I asked her. She shook her head and got up off the bed standing up facing her back towards me. The atmosphere around us changed. It got replaced by tension.

“no-nothing harry. I think you should leave and tell her” She said. I could heard her voice cracking. Within a second, I groped her wrist when she started walking trying to escape my question.

“leave my hand Harry” she said firmly not darling to look at me.

“why’re you crying?”

“leave my hand Harry” she said one more time. My blood boiled by each passing second. She clearly knew how I hated being ignored and put on hold unanswered, I always needed the answer.

“Answer my bloody question y/n” I said trying to remain calm. She twisted her tiny wrist in my hand that had my hard grip on it unintentionally. Little sobs escaping her lips as she struggled to get herself out of my hand.

“Why can’t you just fucking tell me what’s wrong?!!” I finally raised my voice. It was of a too much for me to be patient.

“Then fucking listen!! It’s you who’s wrong!!! Jesus you can’t even choose the right person to leave! You’re a fucking idiot” she shouted turning back to look at me. Her words took me back a little and she escaped herself from me. Her breath was uneven, her eyes were red and tears were down her cheeks. My vision blurred for a second but soon rage took over me when she started yelling again.

“You cannot even see properly whom to bloody love!”

“You better keep your voice down! I am in no mood to take your shit right now!”

“Oh really? You just fucking want to get in her pan-”

“don’t you dare to finish that sentence! You’re just fucking jealous because nobody loves you! Love? I doubt if anyone even  has a fucking crush on you!!!! because you’re nothing but a stray dog begging to be adopted!”

I spat in complete anger. What she said wasn’t true and I just couldn’t control my words. She tumbled back as if my words stabbed her straight in chest. She looked completely broken and within a blink on my eye, she disappeared.

I walked out in balcony after putting on the white tee that had me and y/n captured in together and stared at the beauty of London in front of me. My mind was blurred with lots of emotions. My broke when I thought about words that i shot at y/n. No doubt I broke her. Irony it was how simply i said that nobody loves her where I myself do. The guilt was eating me alive. How blind I was to see the contribution of her life she had towards me. She always made me her first priority and return I thanked her with some shit of words that I had no control on. Tears well up in my eyes when I thought about her. What i did to her wasn’t fair.

———————

Your head pounded with pain along with your heart as you laid in bed clutching your hand to your chest,curled in a ball crying. Why were you the one who always sacrifices and get’s hurts? Why were Harry’s word true? All these words haunted you and chased like like a predator after it’s prey only to be eaten to death.

His words echoed in your mind.

‘you’re nothing but a stray dog’

'You’re just fucking jealous because no one loves you’

You covered your ears with your hand trying to block the words away and cried in pain. You never imagined how all of a sudden your whole would come crashing down only when you find out about your first love that too to be end the way you never thought. All those dreams that you had with him decorated with love faded away. It was such a beautiful thing to love Harry but one fight ended it all. And it was just too much to take. To bear it.

You kept on sobbing but your heart stopped when you heard footsteps coming to you. You knew who it was and he was the last person you wanted to see right now. You were mentally cussing yourself for giving him a spare-key of your house.

“Y/n…..”

“Go away Harry” You said trying to have a control on yourself. His voice was tranquilizing you and it wasn’t acceptable after all what he said. He had no right to have such an impact on you. You scrunched your eyes shut when you felt him lay beside you, scooping you up from behind pulling you to his chest. It was such a warm feeling. You din’t feel alone anymore.

“You’re cold poppet” Harry whispered bring your ice cold fingers to his warm lips. Tears rolled down your cheeks even though he broke you, you knew he was the only one to fix you. You finally let it go and turned around hiding your face in his chest crying your heart out. He instantly wrapped his arms around you, hitching one leg over you hip engulfing you. His lips kissed your head ever so lightly and you could feel his own warm tears landing on your hairline.

You pulled away a little to have a look at his face that reflected the same emotions and feelings as yours.

“I’m so sorry baby. I-I didn’t mean any of that. You’re such a sweetheart and I’m a douche for saying such mean stuff to you. It only took me a few hours to realize whom I love more than my own life.” Harry sobbed looking down at you. You both were crying holding each other like either of you will disappear if you lose your grip.

You didn’t had the courage to ask who it was this time so you looked away but Harry lifted your chin up to look at him and the next thing you knew was his lips on yours kissing the pain away. He never kissed you the was he was that time, it help a lots of emotions and feelings that were not there before. You both kissed with such an ecstasy trying to put in everything you both missed on. After a minute or so of kissing that only felt like for a second he pulled away. You kept your eyes closed, scared that this will turn out to be another nightmare of yours.

“It’s you. I love you baby. I realized how much I love you and need you only after losing you once. And I promise to love you forever” he finished and you opened your eyes. You didn’t expected this all much to  happen after what you both spat to each other. But it did felt real the way his body warmth was fanning your skin and his eyes were piercing in yours, it did felt real.

“You saying the truth?” you asked softly making Harry chuckle at your innocence and nodded his head causing you to smile.

“I love you too” You whispered and attached your lips to his sealing the word. You fell completed as a whole. He felt completed as a whole as you both carried on with the night of pure love and bliss.

The feeling was mutual this time and was for the mutual.

anonymous asked:

can you write a scene where eleven and mike have a moment alone after she closed the gate but before the snowball!? thanks:) i need mike and eleven fics now that I'm done watching season 2

To the surprise of no one and the frustration of Hopper, the cabin soon becomes the gang’s new headquarters. El still can’t go outside, though “soon” has been updated to “pretty soon” and it was agreed by common consent that the boys would visit her regularly so as not to make her feel too lonely. Which, as it turns out, was code for “go there every day after school and every Saturday to play D&D”. Hence Hopper’s frustration. As if one moody teen was not enough, now he has six of them to deal with on a daily basis.

The boys take to teaching her math and science, and Nancy comes up once a week to help her with English and history, so it’s not all play and games. El is a clever thing, and they want her to join the school next year, hopefully, but she has a lot of catch up. It’s overwhelming more often than not – so many words yet to learn – but she tries her best and she makes do. Mike and Will are both very patient with her, and so is Nancy, and it helps.

So Hopper and El are both hallway happy about it. Her because she can still see her friends even if she can’t go outside. Him because a happy El is always better than a moody one, even if she comes with a gang of annoying teens. Halfway happy, the both of them. It’s all that matters.

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