taken through the window

katsukiyuuristrophyhusband  asked:

post-canon domestic fluff :)

Yuuri makes a very important discovery one morning, one rare morning when he actually wakes up first and doesn’t immediately crave the sweet darkness of sleep.  No, he wakes slowly and easily, warm and well-rested, and for once, he doesn’t really care what time it is.  Instead he just sighs, noting the warm, heavy weight of Viktor’s arm over his hips, and rolls over slightly–

–and freezes.

And it’s not like he’s never seen Viktor asleep before, or even that he’s never noticed the smattering of pale freckles that lie sprinkled across his bare shoulders.  He’s seen the way Viktor’s eyelashes flutter ever so slightly as he dreams, seen the rise and fall of his body as he breathes.

All of that, and yet, in this moment, he still finds his breath taken away when the sunlight slants through the window just so, and Viktor’s hair falls across his face at just the right angle, all mussed and wavy from sleep, lit up like molten silver in the morning glow.  Yuuri lies there and looks at him, breathless with wonder, and realizes, oh.  I really am married to the most beautiful man in the world.

And then he wants to laugh, because he knew that already!  It’s not a discovery if he’s been aware of it since he was twelve.

But there’s something different about this Viktor, the Viktor who snuggles close and tucks his nose into the crook of Yuuri’s neck and wraps himself around him as they sleep, as if he’s afraid to be left alone (or, perhaps, because he just seeks out any and all warmth as he sleeps, because he’s clingy like that).  There’s something tender and warm and beautiful in a wholly different way about the imperfections–about the messy, untamed hair, the slight crease in his brow from time to time, and the freckles that are no longer hidden under foundation.

Yuuri touches one of those beautiful, pristine, imperfect cheeks, and smiles.  He strokes his thumb over Viktor’s cheekbone, caresses away the hair flopping across his forehead, and pulls his husband closer, tucking him snugly beneath his chin. 

Viktor stirs with a slow, soft sigh.  “Yuuri?” he mumbles, shifting, stretching his long legs beneath the sheets.  Yuuri hugs him tight and doesn’t bother fighting down the smile that tugs at his cheeks when he hears Viktor’s soft, sleep-roughened voice, a voice meant only for him.  

“I’m here,” he mumbles back, closing his eyes again.  The sun is pleasantly warm against his skin, and Viktor presses close, nuzzling his neck with another sigh.

“G’mornin’, my love,” he murmurs, more asleep than not, and Yuuri smiles, heart full fit to burst.

“Good morning, dear,” he says, and it is.

Sensing the Gods

Touch: raindrops falling
Sight: flash of light through the rain
Scent: day after a rainstorm
Emotion: a slight startle when a large thunderbolt lights the sky
Hear: resounding crack of thunderbolts
Taste: the numbing surge of electricity when testing a battery

Touch: the feeling of the wedding ring
Sight: the tears of love as a betrothed walks down the isle
Scent: the welcoming familiar smell of home
Emotion: love as grey as the hair time and passion has aged like wine
Hear: sound of child laughter
Taste: home cooked meal hot from the oven

Touch: the cold pool of tears after a panic attack as sleep calms the suicidal
Sight: a funeral procession honouring the soul to the underworld’s gates
Scent: freshly dug earth in a cemetery
Emotion: peace after a loved one has passed
Hear: the quiet of a cemetery
Taste: salt of tears as a life is not taken

Touch: wind through a open car window
Sight: yellow lines and green lights ensuring a speedy travel
Scent: lingering smell of gas at a full station
Emotion: relief as a long awaited trip arrives
Hear: clinking of coins in a till
Taste: the dryness after a long walk along a gravel road

Touch: long dry grass crunching in the fall
Sight: auburn, reds and golds of Autumn
Scent: pumpkin spice and freshly mown grass
Emotion: solitude and a festival glow as December rolls around
Hear: a lawnmower’s growling as it works through tall grass
Taste: fresh fruits and the taste of nectar and milk

Touch: creamy texture of chocolate in your mouth
Sight: long distance partner smiling after being far away
Scent: lovers perfume/cologne
Emotion: heart pounding, misty eyed love as a smile comes from seeing a love in your arms
Hear: impassioned breaths of intimate moments
Taste: the passionate kisses between lovers forgetting time for a moment

Touch: the long embrace of a soldier and child/love as they come home
Sight: half mast flag
Scent: soldier’s sweat after taking off his uniform from all day
Emotion: pride in your country
Hear: the resounding “Daddy!” of a coming home surprise
Taste: fresh food cooked after time away from your country

Touch: aching feet of a retail worker as they slump in a break room chair
Sight: the clock
Scent: burning embers of a fire, stale ash
Emotion: relief and excitement getting a job offer after searching relentlessly
Hear: clang of an anvil and sizzle of molten iron in a cooling bucket
Taste: cast iron cooked meals, fire cooked steak

Touch: the calluses on your fingertips after months of practice in guitar strings
Sight: beautiful works of art
Scent: lemonades on a day in summer
Emotion: shivering goosebumps as an emotion is struck hard with music
Hear: the sharp and clear melody of a freshly strung guitar
Taste: slight moment of metal and ink as a pen is drawn to your tongue

Touch: animal’s soft fur like water through your fingers
Sight: doe slowly walking out of a dense forest
Scent: a forest with rich leaves
Emotion: awe as a baby deer and mother wait patiently for your car to pass before crossing
Hear: twang of a arrow releasing from a bow string
Taste: cooling water after exploring in the woods

Touch: stiff spine of a new book cracking open
Sight: a deserved verdict to a defendant
Scent: old pages/books
Emotion: peace inside a bookstore
Hear: hoot of a stirring owl in the evening
Taste: fingertips as they’re licked to turn a fresh page in a book

Touch: embrace of a love come home again
Sight: the first spring flower blooming
Scent: new morning dew in spring
Emotion: relief and glowing love as a partner smiles on a long awaited Skype call
Hear: buzz of bees in the summer
Taste: pomegranates

Touch: tide bringing you in to shore again
Sight: crisp blue of the ocean at peace
Scent: the sour smell of a seafood section of a supermarket
Emotion: awe inspired by an image of the open sea
Hear: hooves thundering along a dirt path
Taste: salt of the sea as it slashes into a smile while swimming

Touch: the padding comfort of a bandage on a healing wound
Sight: seeing a loved one feel well again after sickness
Scent: disinfectant
Emotion: the drowsiness of NyQuil as it lulls your symptoms away to sleep
Hear: fresh air after sickness has clogged your sinuses for weeks
Taste: the sweetness as a sigh of relief escapes your breath

Touch: your cheeks stretching against your teeth as a yawn escaped into the sunrise
Sight: painted reds and oranges of a sunrise
Scent: morning dew in springtime at 6 am
Emotion: excitement for a day ahead, full of possibilities
Hear: the morning birds stirring in the early morning light
Taste: morning coffee next to an open-curtained window

Touch: moments when you can feel comfortable with your body after dysphoria
Sight: the charcoal of a panther, eyes glowing in the night
Scent: draping aroma of a fertile vineyard
Emotion: Pride in being part of a LGBTQ community
Hear: chorus laughter of a raucous party
Taste: sweet tang of a well aged wine

Trouble in Canada // 2

a/n: You all have been so patient and I know I’m a bit late (4 months late soz about that). Every single one of you have been so amazing with the support of this, and it blows my mind every time I get a notification that TiC got another note. And when I posted earlier today that I was posting it, I absolutely loved the response I got in my inbox.  It made my heart incredibly happy and with each message that came in, not gonna lie, i teared up a bit. You all have been so lovely and good sports (especially when i posted that fake TiC2 WHAT A TIME). So from the bottom of my heart, thank you for all the support. I have met some of the most incredible people through TiC and I cherish every single one of you. I feel so emotional posting this, but you all finally deserve the second part to probably the most angsty piece I have ever written (and will ever write omg).  So, please enjoy the second and final installment to Trouble in Canada :)

THANK YA TO MY LOVELY @whitechocolateperfection for reading over this and giving me confidence :) you’re the best and i love you a whole lot 

Trouble in Canada (1)  |  Masterlist

Your name: submit What is this?

“We need to talk,”

        Those four words held a weight so heavy that you lost your grip on your tea.  Your mug dropped to the floor, shattering in pieces and tea spilling all over the hardwood floor.  You immediately went to pick up the broken pieces.  On your knees, you picked up the shards of glass as Shawn was stood in the same exact position; not moving a single bone in his body to help you.

        Collecting all the tiny shards in your hand you swiftly moved past Shawn to go throw the pieces out in the kitchen.  You opened the trash bin, and right as you were about to throw out the broken mug, Shawn’s voice interrupted your movements, “Is that the mug I got you?  The one from our first Valentine’s day together?”

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anonymous asked:

I think I have another prompt. It's Andreil. But the prompt is maybe Andrew/Neil are told to get social media accounts (when they go pro) to help their image/interact with their fans (they dont) so they get instagrams. Andrew claims to hate it so much but within a week 90% of his IG is filled with various pics of Neil that Neil didn't even notice him taking. Nothing to risqué fluffffffffyyyy

Yep, that’s super cute <3 love it.

Alright, listen up, I still take AFTG prompts, but I might be a little slower replying to them, and it’s possible that I don’t get around to doing all of them.

However, please still send me prompts!! I LOVE hearing your ideas! <3 

“This is bullshit.”

Andrew scrunche up his nose as he is glaring down at his phone. 

Neil watches over his shoulder as he tries to install and understand instagram, interested and a little bewildered. “Can you do mine too when you’re done?”

“Fuck no, do your own.”, Andrew replies grumpily. “This is bullshit.”, he repeats and tosses his phone halfway over the kitchen table when he is done. “Unnecessary.”

“Think of the money.”, Neil lightly replies and picked Andrew’s phone up before it falls off the edge of the table. “…and this is better than facebook. All you do is post a picture of your racket or your lunch or the cats once a week.” Neil isn’t a huge fan of this either, but their management insisted, and he is trying to help Andrew here.

Andrew, instead of replying, grumbles into his marshmellow fluff and strawberry topped toast.


Andrew hates it, he really does. He never stops telling Neil, either. “I fucking hate this.”, he says after snapping a picture of their morning protein smoothies. He titles it “I’d rather have chocolate milk” and puts exactly one hashtag: #bullshit. The post blows up within minutes, and people are starting to ask for the recipe (”It’s literally all the leftover fruit we had in the fridge, Neil. Why are people so fucking stupid. It’s not like there’s Kevin’s piss in there or something. Instagram’s bullshit.”).

Neil just nods and let him ramble. 

It goes on like that for a little while. Neil slowly gets better at instagram, posting cat pictures, candid photos of friends and teammates, sometimes his food or even occasional selfies. 

They stop talking about instagram after a while. Until one day, Neil is stuck in traffic for literally three hours and bored out of his mind. He doesn’t feel social, so he can’t call anyone, he has no food with him, so eating isn’t an option to kill time. So he decides to check instagram for once, really check it, not just look at his follower count or reply to a comment because his management tells him to.

The only people Neil is subscribed to are exy players. The foxes, his new team and acquintances (like Jeremy Knox). 

He scrolls, looking at the pictures and occasionally liking one. 

Allison posts a photo of her on Hawaii, drink in hand.

Matt has posted one of Dan, her baby belly wide and covered by a shirt that says “Exy Baby”. Neil likes that one.

He scrolls on, and then almost has a heart attack: a picture of him, taken from behind, as the sun falls through the window of their team bus, making his hair shine copper. It’s from Andrew’s account and it’s titled with “Gingers have no soul”. 

Neil is speechless for a moment, and then clicks on Andrew’s page so he can see all of his photos. 

None of the pictures show his face, but it’s clear that each one, apart from maybe four or five, are showing him.

Neil on the couch, asleep, King curled into a ball on his chest (”Wake the fuck up, sleeping beauty.” #yousnore)

Neil on their balcony, leaning backwards over the railing, staring into the evening sky (#sap).

Neil, again from behind, in the kitchen, cats sitting at his feet and waiting for tuna (#beggarscan’tbechoosers #spoiled).

Neil, wrapped in blankets like a burrito, only a mop of auburn hair peeking out (#hopeyousuffocate).

The comments on the last one are wild and extensive. People are going crazy over the fact that they apparently share a bed. Exy is low-key known for being the “big gay sport”, but still people seem to be in awe that Andrew Minyard and Neil Josten are a couple. 

Neil grins down at his phone. “…bullshit.”, he mumbles to himself, and closes the app. 

Worth The Risk {Part 13}

Bucky x Reader
Summary: Bucky knew that all Steve wanted was for him to get along with her, but was it really worth the risk?

Part 01 / Part 02 / Part 03 / Part 04 / Part 05 / Part 06 / Part 07 / Part 08 / Part 09 / Part 10 / Part 11 / Part 12 / Part 14

Word Count: 3137
Warnings: none

Originally posted by metal-armed-jesus

You and Sam lounged across the living room in your pajamas, eyes trained on the television flickering softly in front of you as the downpour continued on outside. Through the large windows you could see the dark grey clouds rolling across the sky, leaving everyone in a bitter and somewhat lethargic mood.

It was for that reason (and your aching and bruised bodies from training) that you and Sam had decided to spend the day in, rewatching all of the Harry Potter films together to pass the time. After all, he was one of the only people in the tower who could appreciate the series as much as you.

The clocks struck noon as you continued into the third movie, the rain outside falling harder than ever as you and Sam continued to sit in a daze. You stretched your body across the sofa, unwilling to share with the latter who was currently slouched back in the large armchair to your right.

There’d initially been bickering over the seats, but now silence hung over the room as you both zoned out. So absorbed in the film, neither of you noticed when your company was interrupted

Bucky entered the near empty living room, his hands shoved deep into his sweat pant pockets as he looked around the room groggily. Catching sight of your familiar figure, he began to approach. Without uttering a single word, he reached your side and lifted your legs gently before taking a seat on the sofa. You shifted your weight slightly when he rested your legs back on his lap, shooting Bucky a smile of acknowledgment before focusing back on the movie.

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BTS Reaction to You Leaving Them For Another Member

Requested from @bangtans-gurl, “Hey, Love! Its me again :) I’m in the mood for some angst ;) how about a BTS reaction of you breaking up with them for another BTS member? If not then anything angst will be fine! Thanks sweets, I enjoy your writing so much LOL keep up with the great work 👍”

Note: This deleted the first time soo sorry, but here it is! <3

Jin ➳ “I’m sorry but I can’t do this anymore..”

It was in a tone so soft but harsh enough to suffocate his heart, his smile withering away as he slowly looked towards the one he loved dearly. He knew what you meant, he saw the two of you getting closer together while you were dating him, but Seokjin thought nothing of it. So, for his suspicions to only come true, his eyes began to sting with tears as he refused to let them fall, features broken and heart slowly being gripped by your hands and threatening to burst. “Why?” He whispered, and you could only give him a painful smile.

“Because, I’m in love with Jung Hoseok.”

Originally posted by seokjinings

Suga“I love him.”

The words kept repeating in his mind, the way you had broken up with him replaying before his eyes like some curse that couldn’t be lifted no matter how many times he had to distance himself away from you. It hurt him so much, so damn much to see you walking with Jungkook, to see you giving him the smile you used to give Yoongi, and the man would never admit it but the thought of you with someone else destroyed him. He had only stood there, nodding and letting you go but he wished upon anything, that he could have fought for you because now..he was empty as he laid alone on the bed you two used to share.

Originally posted by k-omachi

J-Hope ➳ He had waited for you in the restaurant, tiny box in hand as he refused to order anything unless you had arrived, wanting to eat together with you for the special occasion. The waiters would cast him glances, and the customers would even eye him in sympathy, but he could only smile even when a waitress gave him an appetizer on the house to have the man slowly breakig feel a tiny bit of happiness. It was minutes until hours when you had arrived, eyes swollen and tired as you gave the man a tiny smile. “I’m sorry,” you breathed, and his heart fell as he clutched the box inside his grasp, noticing Namjoon outside the restaurant through the glass windows, “but someone else has taken my heart.”

Originally posted by hoshikio

RapMonster ➳ He understood it all, watching the older man be by your side ever since you were a child, staying by your side whenever you needed him as you grew up with him. His heart shattered into a million pieces when you told him you were leaving him for someone else, and it still hurt even if he had seen it from a mile away. “It’s Seokjin, huh..” he questioned, and the way you looked away only proved it enough as he chuckled in pain under his breath. He could remember the whole scenario as clear as day, and even though the pieces from his broken heart slowly mended, he tried his best not to remind himself of you — terrified that the carefully constructed pieces would break again.

Originally posted by sugacakes

Jimin ➳ He was hurt, he felt betrayed, he would do anything to pull you into his arms and beg you not to go to Taehyung, but, he didn’t. He only stood there with a feigned smile, eyes crinkled as he gave you one last hug and told you to go after Taehyung. You looked so happy, a twinkle in your eyes as you spoke to him about your new love but little did you know that you were hurting the boy deeply, your words a rusty sword as it scratched his skin and bursted his heart in nothing but pain. He ran and ran after you left him, soon coming up below an abandoned bridge as he screamed into the night in agony and letting his emotions spill like rain.

Originally posted by dangerously-jamless

V ➳ You had left him for unknown reasons, and he was too afraid to ask you what those reasons exactly were. He lived on for the next few days, wallowing in pity as your relationship of two years ended abruptly, wondering what he could’ve done to have you stay in his arms but when he saw you walking around, hand in hand with Yoongi’s as the mint haired man gave you a smile he had never seen before in his life, he felt his heart shoot up his throat to prevent him from breathing. It wasn’t long until you spotted him, running up to him in glee as Yoongi followed behind. “You guys are cute,” he lied, eyes dead and lost of life as he soon found his reason.

He wasn’t good enough.

Originally posted by hollerhoseok

Jungkook ➳ He ran after you, not thinking about the consequences at all even though you had broken up with him minutes prior. He looked everywhere for you, his phone dying as he tried to call you and when he spotted you before the pond inside the park, a smile graced his lips only to see the one and only Jimin pull you into his arms as you cried against his chest, realization soon dawning upon him. The older man pecked your head, telling you “it’s going to be okay now that we have each other” and Jungkook felt utterly useless. You had left him for another man, his best friend at that, and he only turned away from the view to walk back into the city, his soul slowly diminishing as he sniffled in betrayal.

Originally posted by bangts


Window Shenanigans | A Kacchako Drabble

I missed the boat on @kacchako-week​, but maybe it’ll take this late entry? It’s the first of a series of short drabbles. Enjoy!

Premise: Ochako discovers that not only is her dorm on the same floor as Bakugou, but his bedroom window in the boys wing is directly across from hers. Through a series of late-night window shenanigans, the two learn to understand each other without even saying a word.


It started two months after Ochako moved into the U.A. dorm.

Ochako was staying up late one winter night when the light directly across from her room switched on. She glanced out her window, expecting to see closed blinds backlit from the inside, and instead spied Bakugou.

Most students with dorm rooms facing the interior of the building kept their blinds down at all times, Ochako included. It was only on a whim that she left them up that night. All this time, she had no idea that Bakugou’s room was parallel to her own. And judging by the way he started to roughly dismantle his own bedroom, he didn’t know either.  

Papers flew across the window, and clothes erupted from the closet. From Ochako’s vantage point across the way, it looked like Bakugou was turning his own bedroom inside out. He paced with clenched fists, ripped his own sheets off the bed, paced some more, got on his knees to look underneath his dresser. It reminded Ochako of a tiger moving restlessly in a cage, striking anything that dared move.

Bakugou kept returning to his bookcase, scrutinizing the titles, and then whirling away to look at something else. Ochako leaned forward and squinted through her window. Her eyes darted to her homework, back to the window, and then it hit her.

Oh! A textbook. Bakugou was tearing his room apart searching for a textbook.

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Footsteps echoed through the halls, breaking through the oppressing silence that had taken hold of the place. Light was slowly falling through the windows, illuminating the tense figure of the man walking through the bloodied wreckage.

Magnus still felt destruction pull at his fingertips. A tight ball of energy spread over his chest threatening to escape his body. With a will of iron, he curled his hands into fists. There was sweat pooling on his temple; the exhaustion soaking into his bones. A heavy breath, and his steps slowed.

A flicker of light fell on his face, eyes glowing gold as he surveyed the bodies littering the floor. What a waste. Movement on the upper areas caught his gaze, and as he turned, he already knew what awaited him.

Bow drawn tight, Alec stood tall, gaze slowly making its way over the bodies, ready to react. His brows were pulled together, a frown marring his features.

Still, a smile pulled at Magnus’ lips. Ever the protector, Alexander. He knew that Alec would not leave his position as long as Magnus still stood where the battle had taken place. His own personal guardian angel.

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Creepypasta #1030: Copycat

Length: Medium

About a year ago I got a new neighbor. The day she moved in I have to confess to being a bit curious. She turned up with two large shopping bags and disappeared into the house. There was no van turned up full of furniture, no cars full of boxes, nothing, which struck me as very odd. For a start what was she going to sleep on?

For the first couple of days she just said hello when she saw me, which I had no problem with. I like to be on good terms with my neighbors.

Now I need to point out, I spent a lot of time sitting in my yard. I smoke, but not in the house and I had a very old dog that needed to go out to pee about a million times a day. In the summer I loved to garden and I’ve always been out there more than I’m in. My door is right next to the low fence that separates the two properties.

The next time I saw her she came scuttling over to the fence and introduced herself as Margaret, and I told her my name was Debra. She was a small blob of a woman who looked in serious need of a very long shower. Her clothes were baggy and nondescript, but she seemed friendly enough. She told me she hadn’t been happy in her last home as she didn’t know anyone and hadn’t managed to make any friends.

I told her a few little things about myself, just things like my name and how long I’d lived there, but I didn’t find her very easy to talk to. As the conversation dried up she just stood and stared at me. Before things got awkward I made my excuses and went back into the house.

After that things changed. Gradually over the course of a week or so I saw her more and more. Her kitchen, which was built on to the back of the house, overlooked my garden, and every time I went out I could see her standing staring out the window at me. I’d be out no longer than five minutes and she’d be there. 

Our conversations consisted of her either questioning me about everything I did, “Where was I going?”, “what was I doing?” and even “what was I cooking?” or those long weird silences where she just stood and stared at me while my brain fumbled about trying to make conversation and not be rude. These conversations always ended up with me making some excuse and coming back inside.

I tried looking busy and gardening. I’d stop for a little while and have a short chat and then say something like “Well, I’d really better get on” but she never took the hint. As I weeded and watered she’d still be there, hanging over the fence staring at me.

Sometimes one of the other neighbors would start chatting as they walked past. I’ve lived here a long time and I know most of my neighbors really well. No sooner than we started talking I’d hear this voice from behind me.

‘Hello Debra, nice day isn’t it?’

Part of me thought that the poor woman didn’t know anyone so obviously she wanted to meet the neighbors, but part of me wanted her to butt out.

I even tried lurking just inside my door to have my smoke, but that didn’t work either. I heard this voice drift across the yard, “Warm again isn’t it, Debra?”

Now I know I’m probably coming across as unfriendly, but I’m honestly not. It’s just my yard is my little bit of peace and quiet and I felt like I had nothing in common with this woman. I didn’t need a new best friend which is what I felt like she was aiming at.

Next thing I knew she’d gotten herself a little dog exactly the same breed as mine.

I put some clothes out in bags for the thrift store van, but before it came to collect she came knocking on my door asking if she could have them. I mean, what could I say without seeming mean and petty? I told her she was welcome to them. So now she was walking about dressing like me too.

I noticed a change in her mannerisms. It was like all that time she spent watching me she’d been taking mental notes. The habit I have of biting my lip when I’m slightly annoyed. The way I push my hair back out of my eyes. She seemed to me almost mirroring my behavior. I told myself I needed to get a grip and I was just being paranoid.

She got her hair cut and dyed the same color as mine. I tried to see it as a compliment.

I felt in some odd way that she was watching me and learning how to be a person.

She’d seemed so naive when I first met her, almost childlike, but she was changing.

The time that really got under my skin was when I left the house to go shopping, and there she was in the street talking to an old man that lives a few houses along. His vision isn’t the greatest and he literally stopped dead and his mouth fell open when he saw me. He’d thought he was talking to me.

A couple of weeks after that she got a tattoo. Not just any tattoo though, my tattoo. I have a large tribal one that runs down the left side of my back. Hers was exactly the same. She was so excited when she showed me it too. Like it was completely normal. I had no idea how she did it. I could only think at some point she’d taken a photo of my back when I was lying in the sun.

While she was showing me, I noticed another tattoo on her other shoulder. It was of a crows head in a raggedy looking circle. Hard to describe but really nice. It was also oddly familiar. I went back in and stomped round my house, swearing under my breath about her. It was a couple of hours later that it clicked in my mind. I’d seen that tattoo before. There was a bar I went to occasionally a few miles away, and there was a girl there regularly, with exactly the same tattoo.

That night I decided it was time for some Facebook stalking. I started off checking out the Facebook for the venue, flicking through it’s albums, and suddenly there she was. The girl with the crow tattoo. I kept flicking through seeing if she was tagged in any of them. Suddenly I froze.

In this particular photo the girl with the crow tattoo was standing smiling. She had pale pink hair shaved up one side. Standing next to her, with identical hair, in almost exactly the same clothes was Margaret.

I took a screen shot of it and messaged everyone I knew with a copy. Margaret was freaking me out and I really wanted to talk to someone who knew her before.

Then a couple of weeks later I got a call. To begin with it barely registered who I was talking to. I was having a really crappy day. My little dog had escaped the garden. I’d popped into the house to make a cup of coffee and when I went back out she was just gone. I’d spent the day scouring the streets in a blind panic, so when my mobile rang my heart was in my mouth. My phone number was on her collar and I was hoping so much it was someone saying they’d found her.

“Hi, is that Debra?” the voice asked.

“Yes, who’s this?”

“My name’s Margaret. I’m the girl with the tattoo, and I understand you’ve been trying to get a hold of me?”

I was instantly confused. Were they both called Margaret? I explained about my neighbor and how I thought maybe they knew each other.

“If she’s who I think she is, she used to be my neighbor and her name’s not Margaret. She stole that from me. I haven’t got time to explain but I need her address. The police are looking for her.” Her voice shook with an emotion I didn’t understand.

So I did. I gave her Margaret’s address.

Within ten minutes the street was full of police cars, but they never found her.

They found my dog, in a bag in the freezer.

They found a wall covered in photos of me, taken through my windows during the night. There was even one of me getting changed, tattoo on full display.

I guess in a way I was the lucky one though, because when the real Margaret had called the police about her, not only had they found a wall covered in photos of her, they’d found her two missing children in the freezer.

She still hasn’t been found, and I’m guessing she didn’t manage to get away with more than a couple of carrier bags of stuff. So if you should happen to get a new neighbor, a small nondescript blob of a woman who seems overly keen to be friends I’d suggest you avoid her. Oh, and as a heads up, she’ll probably tell you her name is Debra.

Credits to: hrhdaf

anonymous asked:

I could see Harry dotting kisses on the missus' breasts when she's feeding one of the babies. Like when there at home with the just few days old baby, curled up together on the bed, and it's just a way to show he's proud of her.

It’s dark outside the house and behind the curtains of the bedroom, cars speeding past on a trek to get home for the night after a long day at work, drunken chatter filtering in through the open window from those who had taken the street as a detour to get back home, the street-lights flickering before they turned off and swallowed Hampstead in a dark atmosphere. But inside, and in the master bedroom, with the lamp lights switched on, it’s silent. All but the gentle snuffles coming from the 5-day old baby girl nestled on the missus’ chest, the soft coos and compliments that left Harry’s lips from where his head was rested on her shoulder, and the hums of delight from where she had her cheek pressed against the crown of his head. 

His Bukowski book has been long forgotten and resting on his duvet-covered thighs, his glasses falling down his nose with smears from where he’d accidentally caught the lens with his fingers, but he can’t bring himself to look away from the delightful and heartwarming sight set below him. Lips parted as he pressed kisses to her soft and ample flesh. His attempt - a sweet and loving attempt, at that - of wordless affection, because he couldn’t find a voice to shatter the silence. 

“Tha’ feels nice,” she hums, as he peppers kisses up her naked shoulder and into the space of her neck, “you’re being very affectionate. S’it because I have a tit out?”

“No,” he splutters, cheeks flushing as he nudged his nose into the skin below her earlobe, “m’just very in love with you, Gorgeous. Very proud o’ you, too. I’m just struggling for the words to explain it all.”

“Don’t,” she whispers, “kisses are perfect.” xx


Wolf drinking by Tambako The Jaguar
Via Flickr:
One of the wolf in the water, drinking. Taken through a window.


The red-bellied woodpecker has been visiting our feeder daily.  To get the sense of how big it is, here it feeds beside a house finch.  Up close, the tongue is visible, and I love its red eye and the way it uses its tail for support.  I also love how brightly red its head-spot is from above.  (Taken through the window.  Soon I hope to get a shot without the glass between us.)

can you imagine if there was a straight girl protagonist on a show who masturbated to stalker pictures taken through a window of half-naked boys kissing which were shared amongst all the straight girls in the school bc they were That Hot & resulted in the partial-outing of one of the boys (who then faced homophobic harassment) & the straight girl protagonist then later yelled at that gay boy for not being out bc ‘it’s the 21st century’ so why would be need to be closeted ?? lmao LGBT tumblr would Flip & yet I’ve only seen wlw talk abt how 13rw is lesbophobic you’re all very transparent


Lazily taken through a screened window by galuppi



Gifs not mine.


said: Hello! I read all of your sherlock fics, they’re brilliant and you’re awesome! I was wondering if you could write a Moriarty x reader fic, in which reader is a friend of Sherlock’s, and they get kidnapped by Moriarty because he got interested in them & in which Moriarty’s not a lovesick puppy, but his idea of romance is actually pretty much possession/obsession?

A/N: Thank you very much! I loved this idea of writing a more darker and possessive romance with Moriarty because I believe that’d be what he I like if he ever fell in love with someone. I hope you enjoy. xxx

Three months. You’d been living with him for three months. It all happened when you became friends with Sherlock Holmes. He had introduced you to Moriarty. He was quite handsome as far as men go and he was quite intelligent. Shame he was a psychopath and the introduction was when John was held at gunpoint. After that event, you felt someone watching you wherever you went but you brushed it off. It just must have been you being paranoid, right?



Wrong. You had been stupid not to bring up the situation with Sherlock because he could have protected you. You had left Baker Street and was walking to work when a figure emerged from the shadows and ran towards you. Immediately sensing danger, you ran but was stopped by someone else at the end of the street while the other man came and injected you with a sleeping drug. There was a car nearby which they quickly stuffed you into. You woke up in a kingsized Hypnos bed. You was dazed for a moment but you eventually came to your senses. A man was stood at your bedside; a man you recognised as James Moriarty.



He apparently fell for you and he would not give you up. Unfortunately, you felt yourself falling into the chasm of love which was not easy to escape. He was a complete and utter psycho but you saw the good in him. You knew it wasn’t love and more of an obsession he had for you but you couldn’t run away even if you wanted to. The security he had on you was too much. Besides, you had fallen too deeply into the chasm.



You spent another morning sat in front of a mirror getting ready whilst crying your eyes out. Moriarty made sure you got everything you wanted from the finest clothes to the new technology. However, he didn’t give you any social life. You’d been trapped in his house with no way of escaping or talking to anyone but him. Your complexion became paler and paler from the lack of sunlight. The only light you could get was the scraps of light that came through the windows. All communication options had been taken off the technology he bought you.

“Morning, Y/N,” Jim said walking into the room. He sighed. “Crying again?”

You swallowed down a lump in your throat. “Nothing major,” You replied. “Just a minor injury.”

“You’re lying, Y/N!” His voiced raised slightly and you could see he was getting more forceful. “I don’t like it when people lie to me.”

“Yes of course. Sorry. I just my family and that’s all.”

“Well I’m your family now. Get that into your pretty little head.” He walked over to you and sat behind you. He kissed down your neck and collarbone leaving hickeys and bruises on his way showing his mark. He turned to walk away. “I need to go out now. I’ll see you later. Dry your tears, love. Crying doesn’t look good on you.” He left and you put your head in your hands. You couldn’t leave. You loved him, didn’t you?