she CARES for him

saey0ungs replied to your post “( i (.) imgur (.) com / o8m5YyP (.) png ) oof my heart”

STILL NOT MY IDEAL ENDING but better than nothing

I’m a sucker for throwback symbolism, so I’m sufficiently wrecked

2

Sonny

Ooh can you do one where carisi really likes you but is kinda nervous to tell you, and the others convince him to ask you out? 

Requested by Anon~


“I don’t know, Rollins-”

“No, you do know.” She stated, stepping forward and harshly poking Carisi in the chest. He looked up to meet her gaze. “It’ll never go anywhere unless your honest about how you feel.”

Sonny’s lips tightened into a line. “But what if-”

“’What if’ nothing.” Rollins interrupted again, crossing her arms over her chest. Carisi knew she was only being stern with him because she cared. Amanda knew just how much Sonny liked you. She could see it every time he talks to you. “If you’re not honest with Y/N, then I’ll tell them.”

Carisi eyebrows rose in surprise, and a new anxiety rushed through his system. “You wouldn’t do that, would ya?”

“Try me.”

The two detectives stared each other down, but Rollins won out, in the end. Carisi’s shoulders slackened before he began nodding his head. “Alright, alright, you win. I’ll ask Y/N to out for lunch, okay?”

@snxgsobaka

When his grandfather had passed, it was no surprise the boy’s life hand crumbled beneath him, future taking a turn for the worst. With him being the only source of income, the moment his heart stopped, he and his mother had nothing. It wasn’t like she hadn’t tried to marry a man with enough money to look after the both of them; It just happened that no one wanted a woman who had a child out of wedlock.

 Many months had passed since she had gotten used to being known as a slut, her son as the spawn of Satan. Many less had passed since she seemed to stop caring about him. Her warnings had gone from ‘stay in the town,’ to ‘don’t get in trouble,’ and recently climaxed with, 'as long as you don’t get taken by the witch, I don’t care’. Yuri, a young boy, though still adventurous as ever, had never heeded to his mothers warnings. Why would he ever stay in town if they people there hated him? How was he to stay out of trouble when being born got him in trouble? He never understood how her silly words were supposed to help him; he was sure that perhaps even the witch was nice, though he had never even seen him with his own two eyes. 

When he was younger, his grandfather always took him to the forest, telling him tales of old and the creatures that roamed the lands. He was always weary, never talk to the fae, and always stay out of the way of the angry Vila. They were words he lived by now, spending days at a time out there without his mother giving a care in the world. The forest lulled him to sleep at night, singing him songs of excitement at daybreak. It was his home, a place he knew like the back of his hand, like a baby to its mothers scent. Coming upon an unexplored area of said forest, or hand, or even mother, was always an astounding thing. The place would always call his name, beckoning him to come explore; and today was like no other, Yuri padded though the thick brush from the forest floor. As the undergrowth lessened, a large lake appeared, the boy staring in wonderment. It was incredible, to say the least, his breath leaving his body as he crept closer to the water. The water called for him, sung his name and wished for his body, and he planned to let it take such a thing for awhile. If only he hadn’t seen the figure of a taller person sitting across the lake, beautiful silver hair spreading itself like long tendrils in the water. Was this the witch he had heard so terribly of, said to eat children and drown men? It was something he highly doubted. Witches were ugly and old, not something so delicate and young like this person appeared to be. 

The young Russian looked back at the water, promising his return before he began to slink his way around the lake. He just wanted to ask him who he was, and why he was here. Nothing more, he assured himself as he came closer.

anonymous asked:

Hi. I just wanna ask, do you think Hendall was never a thing or they are not real at all? I just saw all the vids about them. Harry and Kendall went they go to dinner or smthing? He looks like he care for her. I mean, is their relationship is really just PR things? Sorry, I cant really explain whats in my mind since my english sucks. Sigh.

Your English is fine. And no, I don’t believe Hendall was never a thing. He does care for her and she cares for him, they’re friends, but it was never a romanctic relationship and never will be :)

tbh, if i was in her place, i would probably react the exact same way sonja does in episode 8.

she cares about even, she loves him and she’s scared. just the same way isak is, except she’s done this a million times before because she’s been with even for four years. and you know what? it doesn’t get less scary. you’re always worried sick, each and every time.
he cheated on her, broke up with her, kissed her again, broke it off again and she still comes running when he’s in trouble. she clearly cares a lot. and from the perspective, isak is the problem, so of course she’s gonna ask him to back the fuck off.

so yeah. just as i predicted, i feel for sonja a lot and is kinda pissed at the fandom for making her some kind of big bad.

anonymous asked:

How do you feel about the WH+ professors/headmaster?

Headmaster - Cool as! I would’ve loved to have him for my headmaster at school because mine was a cranky old f***…I was a Luca in school though hahaha. But, he’s had a long life not to be that way. 

Schuyler - he’s just misunderstood. He’s harsh but in a way he’s a bit like Klaus. He’s harsh because he wants them to learn, and underneath that tough exterior he’s nice. Like with Luca, the Princess trusted he would take good care of him after she had passed away because he’s the kind of person who does the right thing. Yes, he’s mean, but he’s had to endure a lot of hardship too.

Merkulova - With the exception in Elias and Luca’s route where he became a tool toward MC, he’s a very gentle man and I liked him when he took all of Klaus’ work so he could spend the field trip with MC. He can be nice but he can also be firm too. 

skadventuretime  asked:

35. “You heard me. Take. It. Off.” MidLink X)

The glare he shoots her would’ve hurt, maybe, if she cared. Which she doesn’t. She jabs him again, harder this time, with the particularly pointy part of her finger, and she ignores his indignant half-yelp, half-cry as his shoulder jerks back. The glare becomes permanent, though his lips do slip into something more of a pout, as he grasps the hems of his tunic. 

With more than the appropriate amount of struggle, the garment comes off. He tosses it aside, almost defiantly, and she only stares him down – as best she could, at least, with one visible eye. “I’m not picking that up,” she drawls. 

If he’s annoyed, he doesn’t show it. Instead, he places his hands on his hips, bares his chest as if it weren’t marred by deep gashes, liquid red seeping languidly from open wounds. 

She frowns. “It’s allowed to hurt, you know.” 

If he means to say something, it barely comes out. Instead, he does yelp this time, audibly, as she floats closer, truly allowing the equally red concoction pour from the uncorked bottle in her fingertips. Part of her might feel a bit (the tiniest bit) sorry for him, but a large part still devises a kind of sadistic humour from it all. To reduce the great Sacred Beast, who could bear the weight of the world on his shoulders with barely a whisper of complaint, to the glaring, almost teary, boy before her – she almost regretted when the last drop of the potion splashed onto his wound, hissing at the point of contact. His arm twitches and her hands catch his wrists reflexively, wrenching them back above his head. “Do. Not. Move,” she hisses. It’s almost playful, she thinks, as his eyes narrow but the resistance against her grip slackens. Instead, his blue eyes dart downwards, and she follows his gaze. His very flesh seems to knit together, sinews of skin interlacing together in a way that probably doesn’t make any logical, scientific sense at all; the blood stems before stopping completely, the already-there red trails now sourceless. 

Midna snaps her fingers. “Good thing I told you to buy that potion, hey?” 

And the glare is back. 

“Yes, I did have to use the whole thing, I don’t make the rules,” she says conversationally as he stomps past her, snatching his discarded tunic with bravado. She puts on the best sneer she can muster. “Drama queen.” 

He only sneers back, but she can’t help but to catch the slightest upturn of his lips as he, almost purposefully, wrestles his tunic back over his head. 

She does him a favour, and yanks the rest of it past that ridiculously unruly brown hair of his. 

Monday 8:27am
I woke up with you on my mind.
You called me babe last night —
my heart is still pounding.

Tuesday 10:53pm
Today I realized we won’t work.
What we are is hurting her.
And I think she matters more to me than you do.

Wednesday 11:52pm
I broke things off with you today.
She barely said a word.
I’ve never regretted anything more than this.

Thursday 4:03pm
I shouldn’t have sent that message.
You shouldn’t have been so okay with receiving it.

Friday 9:57pm
I almost messaged you today.
I didn’t.

Saturday 8:49pm
I’m walking around town in search of alcohol.
They say that liquor numbs the pain of having a broken heart.
I want to put that to the test.

Sunday 2:32am
I heard you texted a girl you’ve never spoken to before.
I wonder if it’s because you’re trying to replace me.
I can’t help but wish you weren’t.
I thought I was irreplaceable.

—  a week with you on my mind, c.j.n.