this is his job

“Uh... good news bad news time, Ted.”

Ted the Animator: “Oh dear.”

Carl the Animator: “Hey, at least there is some good news involved, ‘cause… y’know… good news is good.”

Ted the Animator: “Let’s get this over with. What did you do?”

Carl the Animator: “Well, I created reeeaaally nice lantern glow cutouts for the swamp zombie scene that follow perfectly when he moves his arm.”

Ted the Animator: “…ok, good job, those are tough. What’s the bad news?”

Carl the Animator: “I forgot to move his arm.”

Ted the Animator: “…oh.”

Carl the Animator: “I might have been multitasking while watching Maru the cat try to fit into a tiny box.”

Ted the Animator: “I didn’t think the ‘no cats in the studio’ rule was going to have to start applying to video cats, but you’re just full of surprises I guess.”

Carl the Animator: “It was a VERY tiny box. I couldn’t resist.”

Ted the Animator: “I… I don’t even know what this looks like. The zombie’s ghostly shadow self is leaning down, while he himself stays perfectly still.”

Carl the Animator: “Whoops.”

Ted the Animator: “Actually, that would make for an interesting overarching visual theme for a monster, were it not just a random screwup.”

Carl the Animator: “Ooh! Ooh! Can we do that for the rest of the episode?!”

Ted the Animator: “No. It would make no sense, be completely unfitting… and we don’t get to write the scripts.”

Carl the Animator: “Humph.”

Ted the Animator: “It’s bad enough for the light thing to happen just once. Even more would–”

Carl the Animator: “Twice.”

Ted the Animator: “…eh?”

Carl the Animator: “I might’ve accidentally used the same loop a second time.”

Ted the Animator: “…oh, Carl….”

Carl the Animator: “Is that enough precedent to do the whole episode like it, now?!”

Ted the Animator: “No, but it is enough to get your illumination-cel privileges revoked.”

Carl the Animator: “But moooooom…

Ted the Animator: “You heard me, young man.”

“Levi looks normal he’s not affected by Erwin’s death!”

Here’s Levi when he thought Erwin was dead:


Here’s Levi after he finds out Erwin is alive:


Here’s how Levi’s whole world changed because of Flocke:

(Before and After - notice the difference in his definition of hell)


Here he is after Erwin dies:


Here is both Er/en and Levi talking about the latter’s “personal feelings” for Erwin:

Levi might look “normal” but that’s because he’s so incredibly stoic. To say that he’s not fucked up by the serum bowl and Erwin’s death is pretty dumb tbh, and also quite insulting to Isayama who drew the heartbreaking panels above that display the sheer depth of love and respect that Levi has for Erwin. For him to lose it the way he did clearly shows how much he must be hurting.

I’m not suggesting that Levi won’t do his job and work under a different commander, because he will. But to deny his pain altogether is ridiculous. It’s right there. Idk about anyone else but when someone I loved died I didn’t instantly stop caring about them, but I did have to go to work and get on with my life between feeling the worse kinds of grief and despair.

As for what happens next…

The Ides of March

by: mldrgrl
Rated: PG-13 (language)
Summary:  The product of multiple Stella/Hank requests combined into one.

When he was in college, surrounded by pretentious fucks who thought they were being funny, ‘beware the Ides of March,’ was how they told him ‘happy birthday.’  Very original.  Secretly, he was quite proud of the connotations associated with the day of his birth.  This year, like every year, he had certain expectations.  Number one, a morning blow job to wake him up.  Number two, a call from Becca.  Number three, dinner out with Stella.  Number four, Stella for dessert.

Well, he didn’t get his wakeup blow job, but that was because Stella god called into work at the ungodly hour of five a.m. when only garbage men and vampires should be awake.  He had rolled over and stuffed his head under the pillow as she hurried through her morning routine.

When he roused at the more decent hour of ten a.m. the house was quiet, save for the light tap of rain against the window.  It stayed dark and foggy the rest of the morning into early afternoon.  He wrote some.  He read the paper; the murder of an American student was on the front page, which must’ve been why Stella was called in so early.  And, he waited for the call from Becca.

His phone rang at seven, but by that point, he’d already abandoned all hope of dinner out.  Stella hadn’t been in contact all day, which meant she would be coming home exhausted, if she came home at all.  Which also meant dessert was most likely off the table.

“How you holding up, Sherlock?” Hank asked in greeting.

“Seven o’clock and all’s well, Watson.”

“Is it?”

“Could you possibly run to the wine shop and pick up a bottle of Sangiovese?  I believe we only have Merlot in the house and I would really appreciate a glass of Sangiovese right now.”

“That kind of day?”

“Well, it’s over now.  But, I should be home at half past.”

“Sure, I’ll run out.  Should I get anything else?  Run you a bath?”

“Just the wine.  We can order delivery when I get home.”

“See you soon.”

Stella hung up first, as usual.  He checked his phone just in case he missed a call or text while they were speaking, but it was clear.  The rain had stopped hours ago, but the streets were still damp.  He turned the collar up on his jacket and shoved his hands in his pockets as he walked to the wine shop.

The whole trip took less than fifteen minutes, but it was long enough for Hank to fall into a melancholic slump.  He also didn’t care whether his birthday was celebrated or not, but to go a full day without it even being acknowledged, made him feel lonely.  Times like these he used to fix himself a strong drink, find something to snort or smoke, and top it off with a woman willing to share a few hours with him, whether he had to pay for it or not.

He knew, though, that he would come home and Stella would be there soon and he would kiss her, make love to her if she was agreeable, if the day hadn’t sucked all the energy from her, and he would remember that she was better than all the vices he used to use to not feel so lonely that never worked in the first place.

He was surprised, when he came home, to find Stella already there.  She was standing in the kitchen with a smile on her face.  Still had on her cream colored blouse and chocolate pencil skirt which told him she’d only arrived a few minutes ago otherwise she’d be in her robe.  Her heels were off though and she glided across the floor in her stockings to greet him.

“Close your eyes,” she said, putting her hand up and across his face.  She took the bag with the wine from his hand and twisted her hips out of his grasp when he tried to hold her.  “Keep them closed.”

He heard her set the bottle down on the counter and then there was shuffling and squeaking.  He squinted and fought the urge to open at least one eye to see what she was doing.  If he was lucky, he thought maybe he might open them to find her in the lingerie he’d given her for Valentine’s Day.  Or something new he’d never seen before.

“All right, you can open them,” she said.

It was the last thing he expected, but maybe the best present he’d ever received.  “Becca!?” he murmured in surprise.

“Happy birthday,” Stella said, giving Becca’s arm a light squeeze before she stepped away as Hank bent to hug his daughter.

He knew she hated when he did it, but he lifted Becca off the floor with his embrace and squeezed her tight.  She groaned, but she also laughed, which was his favorite sound in the world.

“Put me down!” she said.

“Never,” he said, even as he put her back on her feet.  “How did you manage to pull this off?”

Becca glanced at Stella.  “She thought we should surprise you,” she said.

“You did this?” Hank asked, turning his cheek to the top of Becca’s head so he could look at Stella.

“I had the idea.  It just worked out.”

Becca pulled away from Hank.  “Stella was just going to show me the guest room.  There’s something in my bag for you.”

“Sure, sure,” Hank said.

“Come.”  Stella held her arm out to Becca and led her over to the stairs.

Hank smiled to himself as he shrugged off his jacket and draped it over one of the chairs at the counter.  Becca liked Greek and there was a Greek place that delivered around the block.  He searched the drawer where they kept the delivery menus.  Stella came back downstairs alone.

“She wanted to call Karen,” Stella said.  “Let her know she got in okay.”

Hank grabbed Stella at the hips and drew her in to kiss her.  He backed her up against the counter and lifted her up.  She smiled against his mouth and held his head, finally pushing him away when he began to lay her back.

“Mm mm mm,” she murmured, a hand on his chest and the other in his hair.  “Your daughter will be down in a minute.”

“I thought you’d forgotten,” he said.

“Of course not.”  She draped her arms over his shoulders and laced her fingers together at the back of his neck.  “I’d even set my alarm fifteen minutes early to make sure you got your favorite wake up call.”

“You planned a birthday blow job for me?  I think I might cry.”

“I sincerely apologize.  I was not expecting to be called in this morning.”

“Can I still collect a belated birthday blow job?”

“There’s a fairly good chance for that.”

“Mmm.”  Hank growled softly and kissed her again.  Stella sank her teeth into his bottom lip and held it in a soft bite as he pulled away.

“Happy birthday,” she said, letting him go.

“Best birthday ever,” he whispered, laying his forehead against hers.

“Even without the blow job?”

“I didn’t say perfect, I said best.”

Stella laughed.

The End

PT.14

PT.1| PT.2| PT.3| PT.4| PT.5| PT.6| PT.7| PT.8| PT.9| PT.10| PT.11| PT.12| PT.13

When John kissed Sherlock goodbye, he immediately missed him. He took the taxi to his job and couldn’t stop thinking about him the whole ride. He looked so perfect wrapped in his housecoat, holding Rosie, kissing his cheek and wishing him a good day at work. It was all so domestic. He looked at the clock, one minute passed, he looked again. Three minutes passed. Clinics are never slow, it’s that some days people seem perfectly healthy, and then others, the whole of London is trying to get themselves examined. Today was one of the days where he was going to see more paperwork than patients, save for the moms who insisted that there was something wrong with their kid, or the usual patient that searched their symptoms online and are convinced they’re dying. Other than that, there was hours of him thinking about Sherlock and Rosie, wondering what the two were doing. Teletubbies was probably over now, he knew how much Sherlock hated that show. He smiled just thinking about the man’s face.

He missed him so much.

Maybe he could call them right now, his boss wouldn’t care, and it wasn’t like there were patients lining up to see him today. Was Sherlock’s phone even on? Was Rosie snapping pictures on it again by accident? He made one of those his lockscreen when Sherlock wasn’t looking. The picture showed Rosie’s wide eyes from the flash, and Sherlock moving to take the phone away. He was adorable.

His phone was vibrating and it was just the person he wanted to call. He heard Rosie screaming in the background. Sherlock must have been holding her.

“Sherlock, hey.”

“John, when was the last time Rosie…went?”

John’s brows furrowed. “What do you mean?”

“Well, she’s a bit cranky right now and her diaper’s been lacking a bit of…solid matter….”

John’s eyes widened and he said, “Oh. She’s not shitting.”

He laughed at Sherlock’s exasperation. “You put it so eloquently John. Yes, Rosie hasn’t shat.”

“Um, there should be a bit of castor oil in the bathroom. Give her a bit and see if that works.”

“And if it doesn’t?”

“Give her tummy a little massage, and feed her some mashed banana or something. But be patient, love, don’t need her exploding.”

“Yes, okay.” He sounded distracted, John heard some rustling and Sherlock trying to shush the baby. John pressed his phone to his ear with his shoulder as he resumed the paperwork. “She alright?”

“I think she’s having a bit of tummy pain. We’re in the bathroom now, I’ve just given her a sip of the oil. She didn’t eat much this morning.”

“Aw, poor thing.”

“Are you referring to me or the baby?” Sherlock deadpanned. John snorted. “Obviously the one who’s in pain, Sherlock.”

“I appreciate the sentiment then.” Sherlock laughed a bit and John heard some rustling.

“I think she wants to hear your voice. Let me just quiet her down for a second. Are you busy right now?”

“Never too busy for you, love.”

Sherlock didn’t respond, but John could hear him blush through the phone. He waited a bit before he heard Sherlock singing to the baby.

“You’re my honeybunch sugarplum, pumpy-umpy-umpkin, you’re my sweetie pie. You’re my cuppycake gumdrop snoogums boogums you’re…”

“The apple of my eye…” John finished. His cheeks were tinted red as he listened to Sherlock’s soft voice sooth the crying baby. Sherlock chuckled and kept singing, and John joined in with him, not caring how he looked to his boss or anyone that walked past his office. He knew this nursery song, and he missed the opportunity to sing with Sherlock last time.

In unison, the men sang, “And I love you so and I want you to know that I’ll always be right here, and I love to sing sweet songs to you because you are so dear…”

Rosie was silent now but he could hear her soft noises through the phone. John was sitting in his office grinning like an idiot. One day he’s just going to sing to Sherlock, with Sherlock, he didn’t know. He just wanted to hear the man sing again. Sherlock was talking to Rosie now, “Are we better now?”

John’s heart melted as he listened to the two, well, mainly Sherlock.

“I think she’s okay now, I’m sorry if I bothered you.”

“It’s fine, Sherlock. It’s all fine.”

John had a guess they were both smiling into the phone now. Sherlock coughed and said, “I’ll see you when you come back.”

“Mhm, sure will. Takeaway tonight? I was going to stop at the shops but Rosie’s not well…”

“Well the oil is not going to work for a few hours, and she seems calm now. I can try to get a bit of the shopping done if you would like. But still, order takeaway tonight.”

“You’re bossy.”

Another laugh. “Goodbye, John.”

“I love you, Sherlock.” It came out, but he’s been dying to say it again. Any chance he gets.

“I love you too, John.” He hung up and sank back in his chair.

“What a lucky, lucky man I am.” He sighed.

 ——–

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washingtonpost.com
These Iowans voted for Trump. Many of them are already disappointed.
Interviews with more than 100 voters across the state reveal fresh misgivings about the new president.
By https://www.facebook.com/wpjennajohnson

“Of the six swing states that were key to Trump’s unexpected win in November, his margin of victory was the highest in Iowa, where he beat Clinton by 9 percentage points. Yet at the dawn of his presidency, only 42 percent of Iowans approve of the job that he’s doing and 49 percent disapprove, according to a Des Moines Register/Mediacom Iowa Poll this month.

While Iowa is still home to many strong supporters who say it’s too early to judge him, there are others who say they voted for Trump simply because he wasn’t Clinton. Many Iowans worry Trump might cut support for wind-energy and ethanol programs; that his trade policies could hurt farms that export their crops; that mass deportations would empty the state’s factories and meat-packing plants; and that a repeal of the Affordable Care Act would yank health insurance away from thousands. While the hyper-simplicity of Trump’s campaign promises helped him win over voters, they are no match for the hyper-complexity of Iowa’s economy and values”.

Give me brains behind the brawn

TL;DR, Steve is a precious nerd who needs to be protected from the idiots in the world who think he’s a thug with nothing but muscles and a gun. Giving him the time and encouragement to just study things because he wants to could seriously change the way he lives, because he may be a Navy SEAL-turned-cop but that doesn’t mean he’s stupid. Far from it, in fact, and I have feelings about how he handles it.

Give me Steve McGarrett who is more than a gun-carrying, in-your-face, BAMF, going-where-angels-fear-to-tread meat-head with nothing between his ears.

Give me Steve McGarrett who loves to exercise his mind just as much as–if not more than he loves to exercise his body.

Give me Steve McGarrett who spends nights and weekends thumbing through old biographies and war histories because they’re relevant, but also reads classic literature in all the languages he speaks and buys used Chemistry and Calculus and Psychology textbooks because he’s always on the lookout for something new to learn about. 

Give me Steve McGarrett who made a deal with UH or some local college when he came home to let him take a class or two online every semester. It started out as a way to take the loneliness out of his downtime, but it turned into this love of learning that he thought had died out long ago, so he kept at it. 

Give me Steve McGarrett who keeps whatever novel he’s on tucked under the passenger seat of the Camaro, next to the first aid kit, because getting hurt and having time to read generally go hand in hand. 

Give me Steve McGarrett who hated to send Danny undercover at UH instead of going himself, because he’d had dreams of being a teacher or a chemist or a thousand other things once upon a time, before everything went to hell, except it did and then the Navy happened and it’s kind of late now and business was never his forte anyway and he really wants this guy caught, so Danny’s the obvious choice. 

Give me Steve McGarrett who spends rainy Saturdays when he can’t workout on the upstairs lanai (because it’s the only one that’s covered) with an entire sheaf of papers, a computer, and at least three textbooks, working on whatever problem caught his eye. 

Give me Steve McGarrett who gets flustered on one of those days because Danny wasn’t supposed to show up here until three but of course he’s early and Danny’s about ready to start laughing and making jokes when he realizes his partner–his best friend–is standing there staring at him with his shoulders bowed just slightly, like he’s expecting to get mocked for liking things any second now and Jesus Christ, that’s never what Danny intended and it stops now. So he pauses, takes a second to seriously look at what his partner is dong, and asks.

Give me Steve McGarrett who lights up like the sun at being asked a genuine question and goes on for like ten minutes about what he’s been reading and studying up on and how amazing it all is and Danny can’t think of a time when Steve talked this much and he knows he’s never seen his friend look this excited about anything, smile this brightly and look so happy in the seven years they’ve known each other and he kind of feels like shit for not realizing this side of Steve existed at all. Danny doesn’t really understand one word in ten that his friend is saying, but it’s right there that he decides that he’s going to be more supportive.

Give me Steve McGarrett after the liver transplant who uses the time to go back to school for another degree–this time in Anthropology, for the hell of it and because humans are absolutely fascinating--and give me Danny who drives him to all the classes he has to be on campus for.

Give me Steve McGarrett who shies away from the rest of his team when they inevitably find out–he hadn’t answered his phone and they’d been worried–because they give him shit like he knew they would and it’s not supposed to sting but it does, the genuine surprise that he could like things besides sports and explosions laced with teasing that was probably harsher than it needed to be. And when he leaves a little too fast to be not upset, give me Danny Williams rounding on all three of them with his I Will Fight You expression on his face and he absolutely goes off on them for it. It culminates in him yelling at them–full voiced and angry, not ranting, legitimately yelling–about how sure, Steve uses his intelligence in different ways, but those way have saved their asses more than once. Like all the times he was the only one to remember the layout of a building or some vital detail of their suspects or how to defuse a bomb. And how about the fact that he’s been taking classes for years and has a near-perfect GPA while working longer hours than any of them to boot. How dare they criticize him for having a brain, for liking things, knowing that he considers them family?

Give me Steve McGarrett who’s already a mile out from shore when they finally make their way downstairs to apologize to them, swimming smoothly and so quickly they would have no hope of catching him, so they wait and wonder how they could possibly have missed this.

Give me Steve McGarrett who approaches them with tense shoulders and a head held upright with only sheer willpower when he finally comes back, hours later, panting and nearly stumbling up the sand. Give me Steve McGarrett who has this look in his eye that they haven’t seen since the first few months of being thrown together and dubbed a team, when he was fresh off active duty and closed-off and angry at the world. It’s like he’s already resigned himself to more comments he doesn’t deserve, but he’s not about to stop them because it isn’t worth it and hell if that isn’t the worst part of the whole damn thing. 

Give me Steve McGarrett who, after that day, could almost always be seen wandering around Five-0 with a notebook tucked under his arm and his nose stuck in a book, especially when they weren’t busy. Give me Steve McGarrett who started to look happier, like he was sleeping better, like he was less ready to explode at any given chance. Give me Steve McGarrett who takes over the tech table one day, promising not to break it, and somehow comes up with an algorithm that, when added to their facial rec system, makes the search for suspects, witnesses, and victims almost twice as fast. 

Give me Steve McGarrett who absolutely flourishes when given the chance, who finally seems to have found a balance, a way to escape what they see all day. Physics doesn’t lie to him and Calculus doesn’t kill people and Chemistry is predictable in a way most things aren’t and people who died a few thousand years ago can’t shove his life through a meat-grinder. Again.

Give me Steve McGarrett who just wants to learn things for the sake of it, and it’s something he’s never had the chance or the encouragement to do before now.

Orlando Bloom as Legolas was like my first crush and he didn’t honestly do that much in the movies.

He stood around looking pretty in the background, sometimes yelled something about Isenguard, flirted with Gimli, FAILED TO DO HIS JOB AS AN ARCHER, did a thing with an Oliphant.

Age gap

Prompt: What about a headcanon of Chris dating a younger person? oh! or going to Disney World with him.

A/N: THANK YOU, for challenging me like this. I needed that. There you go, I hope you like it. Keep sending requests :)

Warnings: fluff, a little angs, age gap, bad words.

——-

Chris and I had been dating for over seven months. And our fights didn’t include his job or mine. Just the fucking age gap. Today was one of those days were that little and stupid thing made us go nuts and not in the nice, corny and sweet way. He was mad.

“Are you kidding me?” I asked him putting my hand in my hips.

“No, y/n, you’re young I get that, you like to go out and have fun with your friends. Your friends that have your same age.” I sighed.

“You know that you can come with me, I love when you come and join me, baby” I made my way towards him and I hugged him, I tried to kiss him but he was so tense.

“I… we, can find something else to do together. I don’t want to be the old man that just goes there and stands there and doesn’t get any of your young jokes…Maybe I’m getting old” he hugged me for a few seconds to add “I love you, have fun” he kissed my forehead and left my apartment.

“What? Wait, Chris…” I tried to reach him. But he turned around and sighed.

“Baby, please. Just text me when you come back home, please?” I nodded and saw the white door closing.

As a girlfriend, I was supposed to know him, right? Well, I did. And I knew that the age gap was always going to be an issue for us, but lately felt worst. His thirties versus my twenties.

I loved him more than anything in the world and I wanted him being part of my world. But he was right, there was a different atmosphere, with his friends, our friends and my friends.

It was killing me that he had that absurd idea of him being old, but for now, I needed to give him his space.

But also, I think there’s something else I could do.

——-

“Chris” I murmured. He was sleeping. He was so fucking handsome, how could even consider he was old?! I mean, he’s like… breathtaking, amazing, funny… perfect. I laid next to him and started to wave his messy hair.

“Mhm?” he opened his eyes and half smiled. “Baby?” I kissed his nose, he incorporated and sat I leaned and kissed him.

“Good morning”

“Well, it’s not morning yet” he spoke looking at the clock “what are you doing here? I don’t mind, but’s everything ok?” he was that man, caring and sweet.

“Yes, we’re going on a trip, I just needed to wake you up. And it’s not an option, love. We are going.”

“Can I, at least, ask where?” I denied with my head and kissed him.

“No, it’s a surprise. You have ten minutes to shower, I’ll help you packing. Go, now” I ordered. He sprawled in the bed and I rolled my eyes.

“We can stay here, in bed. And I could kiss you and you could kiss me back” he added. His propose was very convincing, but not right now.

“No, move your young and awesome ass from bed” his head showed from the covers with that funny look “Please?”

“Just because you said please, boss” I smiled and kissed him.

“Come on, hurry, love!”

———

“Let me see if I understand? You didn’t let me watch since we got to the airport, neither when we got to the plane and you’re not going to let me sneak when we land?” I kissed him.

“Yes”

“You’re so mean! I don’t wike it.”

“How can you say that you’re old when you act like your four-year-old nephew?”

————-

We got to the place. The air was warm. I spent the night making calls, asking for favors in my job and exchanging as well. But it was worth it, here we were. I used my tiptoes. I kissed him and removed the blindfold.

“Where do you think we are?” I asked him before removing it completely, if he didn’t guess I’d probably punch him. There was all that noise that I couldn’t control, even the photoflashes and the smell of THIS place.

“I think we’re on set?” I laughed.

“Surprise! We’re on Disneyland” I yelled.

“What the fuck! Y/N, this is great, what…? Why…?” he stopped talking and rose me from the ground, making me spin in the air. When he put me down, he kissed me.

“Well, I thought that I needed to bring you to the place where you can feel young and maybe younger. In Disney, doesn’t matter your age, if you or me, are older, we can feel like kids again”

“But we can do things of grown ups too” he said while he put his arms around my waist.

“Like…?”

“Like kissing you and saying that I love you” he leaned and placed his lips against mine.

“I love you, Chris, I love you, not your age, not…” he put his index finger in my lips.

“Shhh! Let’s enjoy today” I nodded and started to walk. Suddenly he grabbed my arm and turned me back.

“I love you, thank you, baby. I… love you”. And that’s how you melt a heart in one second. He held my hand and made our way to the entrance.

What’s going on between us?

Plot:  his jealousy, your insecurities, his job and your fears; it was just all too much and after 2 years of relationship you were getting tired, tired of waiting him to come home to you, tired of being put after his job..always.

Worlds:1381

Genre: Angst/Fluff

For my gurl @bbreactions to thank her for always listening to me and fangirling with me over riri

Originally posted by crushtrbl

You put on your dress while looking at the phone, it was 6 pm and you had no idea of where your boyfriend was. He just disappeared 2 days ago, after another useless fight.

That was almost the daily basis now: his jealousy, your insecurities, his job and your fears; it was just all too much and after 2 years of relationship you were getting tired, tired of waiting him to come home to you, tired of being put after his job..always.

Maybe it was better just to finish all this..for the both of you.

You were putting on your coat when you heard someone trying to open the door..was it him? Was he drunk? Or maybe a thief? Some crazy fans?

Your heart started pounding like crazy when the door opened, you found yourself against the walls a couple of deep brown eyes were looking at you, his silver hair were all messy, his black jacket in his hands and the shirt half plugged off; you knew he wasn’t drunk..you knew him too well..he was probably just tired.

You started to normally breath again and decided to just go away..you didn’t want to fight again, you were not strong enough.

-Where are you going?

-I have to meet with my friends for dinner

-Who?

-You don’t know them

You looked at him, his tired reddish eyes staring at you while you couldn’t help but putting your purse back on the table and started walking towards him.

You went into your bedroom, bring some of his clean clothes and put it in the bathroom, you then walked again in the living room when you found him on the couch, his head in his hands

-I prepared some clothes in the bathroom so you can have a shower.. I’ll go now

-Don’t

He didn’t lift his head while saying it, he just asked in a soft voice, like he was whispering it.

You didn’t want to fight, you loved him after all, more than he loved himself. You send a quick message to your friend and sit next to him

-What is going on Seunghyun?

-I just had some stuff to do..

He said coldly, without even looking at you

-I mean.. what’s going on between us? You never disappeared like that..i know we fight a lot but how could you just walk away like this? I was worried.. but you probably didn’t care

Your voice was breaking while talking..how could he just be so cold?

You sighted and just left to go to your bedroom, was it even yours anymore?

You got changed and looked at the wardrobe, took a suitcase and put some of your clothes in.. you didn’t even realized you started sobbing and tears run on your cheeks.

Maybe it was better that way, he wasn’t the one, he didn’t love you enough; you tried to convinced yourself that you were doing the right thing but your sobbing became stronger, your tears started running and you couldn’t control it anymore.

You sat on the bed as you were shaking, how could this happened? How did you get here?

You loved each other so much, what about know? You knew you loved him but did he?

Maybe not anymore.


You felt asleep like that, alone on the bed not knowing what was he doing and if he cared.

The morning after you decided to call sick for work and went into your bedroom’s bathroom to take a warm bath; you started undressing when you heard the door opening and you saw him coming inside.


-Gotta brush my teeth

He said.

You’ve been together for 2 years and you have seen each other naked a plenty of times but you felt uncomfortable now, so you automatically tried to cover yourself with your hands

-What? You don’t want me to look at you now? Like I’ve never seen you naked before

You reached for a towel and walked to the door when you felt his hand grabbing your wrist

-What the hell is going on?

-Nothing..just leave me now..you’re hurting me

-I won’t.. you have to tell me everything now. Do you think I am stupid? Like I didn’t see the suitcase or heard you sobbing last night. Do you think I don’t care?

You felt like suffocating, in the shared bathroom with all the steam and he pressuring you against the door

-I..i am not..felling..good

You whispered

-Ya Y/N..Ya..

He helped you stand up as your sight began to darken

He opened the door and took you on the bed, you saw his worried eyes while he was looking at your body, caressing your arms with his strong hands.

-Are you ok?

-Yea..It was too hot in there

-I’ll bring some cold water

You couldn’t answer as he disappeared behind the door, coming back a few second later with a glass of iced tea

-Maybe some sugar will help you

-Thanks

You drank a bit of it while he sat next to you, looking at you like you were going to disappear in any moment

-I am sorry

-It was just the heat

-No..I mean..for everything, disappearing..the fights. Do you think it would be better to brake up?

Your heart stopped, you heard the glass falling on the floor but you couldn’t move, you were froze.

-Ya Y/N are you ok? Aish..I’ll just clean this ok? Don’t walk cause there are glasses everywhere ok?

You looked at his back while he was leading to the kitchen, your legs started to move by themselves and you didn’t care about the glasses on the floor. You reached for him and started crying hugging him from behind before he could leave the room.

His hands held yours as he turned around, he looked at you and kissed your head. You had no idea of how much you missed his touch, his kisses.

He then cupped your face and you could see tears in his eyes

-I am so sorry, you know that I love you right?

-I missed you so much

You reached for his face and kissed him while you run your hand through his hair

He lifted you and bring you on the bed, his hand running on your body as he kissed every inch of your skin, like he wanted to mark you as his.


You couldn’t stop staring at him while he was sleeping next to you, both of you covered just with the bed sheet.

-You’re creepy girl

-Sorry

He opened his eyes and smiled at you

-I’ll go and brush my teeth now

-Mmm

He softly kiss your forehead and left.

-Ya Y/N

-What?

-Let’s start over, ok? No more dramas or fights..just us

-Yes

-I promise I won’t hurt you again, I promise to love you and show it to you

-I will do the same

-Are you sure you want to?

-I am, I want to stay with you as long as I can, even if you are messy, arrogant and rarely at home.

-Ya

You giggled and sit on the bed, covering your body with the sheets

-Marry me then

-What?

Your eyes widened, was he being serious?

-Marry the messy, arrogant and rarely at home me and stay with me forever

Once again you were froze as he kept looking at you, standing with his boxers in front of the bed

-Marry me, I am being serious

-Really?

He reached for the night table next to the bed and opened the drawer

-Aish you wanted this?

He asked while opening a little blue box and giving it to you, there was a ring..an engagement one in it.

-So..are you going to marry me or not?

Your hand cupped his face and you softly kissed his lips, then you hugged him as you started ti sob

-I know it’s a bit old.. it’s been there for a few months now..but we can change it If you don’t like it

-You shout up a bit and hug me

He did as you said, skin to skin, heart to heart

-Y/N.. it’s ok if you don’t want to

He whispered in your ears

-Pabo

You faced him and put your forehead against his

-I want you to be my messy, arrogant and rarely at home husband

Tell me about your relationships.

I am 30 years old, and I don’t know what a healthy romantic relationship looks like. From some issues in my background, I half-expect any man I’m with to flip out at any moment. I have lived in a world in which this has happened, so I can no longer imagine a world in which it doesn’t happen. I don’t know what normal, we-can-work-through-this-respectfully problems look like, and what get-out-as-fast-as-you-can problems are. I have no frame of reference, no schema, and as a result, I repeatedly find myself in scary and emotionally-damaging situations.

This guy–my now ex-boyfriend–seemed pretty great on all the usual fronts (attractive, compassionate in his job, etc.). But he was deeply insecure. It affected every aspect of his interactions with me. He needed constant reassurance. I mean, I could have said, “I find you so attractive!” on repeat for three entire hours and he still would have been suspicious that I didn’t truly mean it and that he was ugly. I tried very hard to show him I was there for him–through showing up consistently and on time, small thoughtful gifts, near-constant physical touch, whispered affections, physical presence, etc.

And yet, he claimed that he had never felt less loved or cared for. I came to wonder if there was anything in my repertoire that could provide him what he needed, but I was committed to trying everything I reasonably could. I listened to him, I empathized, but I did not always agree or acquiesce to his requests. He now claims that my “coldness” was “emotionally abusive” and he never felt a moment of love from me.

And then, he broke up with me under awful circumstances in a foreign city and then send a barrage of nasty, mean-spirited texts. I didn’t know he even had those words in him.

How do I avoid getting into a situation like this in the future? My radar is totally defective. Seeing happily-married couples in respectful relationships is like me examining wildlife in Antarctica; it is totally foreign and mysterious to me.

Please, tell me about disputes with your spouse that you have resolved favorably OR tell me about situations that caused you to reasonably end a relationship. Tell me about situations on which you look back with regret and wished you’d ended it then. I need some sort of roadmap.

I trusted you

Prompt 24 “I trusted you” with Finn for @theaqueenakaspeedy
It was so weird writing without Michael omg. Hope this is alright.
-

Time crawled whilst in a state of devastation.
Perhaps you should of seen it. Especially with the stories that trailed behind the Shelby brothers, but he’d always seemed so different.
Maybe you trusted him because he was the youngest, he’d always have to do his part of the job with only half of the knowledge. Guarded, even though he grew up learning how to get his own way, learning how to manipulate people from the best.
Still, you trusted him.
Looking back on it all, you really do seem foolish. How didn’t you see it?
Finn Shelby- only getting close to you for your fathers relation to the church, despite yourself being an atheist, only for information on Father Hughes. Foolish.
At least he’d told you himself, you supposed. He told you on your bed you were sitting in, grasping onto the note he’d left you a little too hard. Words, how little they seemed when it was a little too late.
Dropping the handwritten note into the flame of your candle and checking the time.
11:27pm.
Lack of sleep made the sadness transform into the anger that was now bubbling in your stomach. Wanting nothing more then to erase him from everything. Impossible.
Restlessness- throwing your pillow across the room and punching your hollow wall for good measure. Pointless yet somewhat satisfying. And part of you wants him to be loosing his mind too but you know the thought is just naive and pathetic. You were just a stepping stone to the entire family, a piece in their game.
A few more moments inside these four walls and you knew you were going to loose it for real, lacing your boots and shrugging on a fur coat. Heading for the cut.

*

With your feet submerged into the water, coat disregarded and hair blowing in the wind, you wish you had taken your cigarettes from the loose floorboard in your room. He had got you smoking and supplied the cigarettes for that matter. Your ridiculously religious parents wouldn’t condone their angelic daughter to be exposed to such things as cigarettes.
The sound of the water from the canal lapping at the sides brought you a peace of mind.
Your serenity burning to an end when a familiar voice startled you.
“You didn’t respond to me,” Finn.
Your heart stopping, as cliche as it sounded. Frozen in place.
He’s whispering your name before approaching you. Your back was turned but his foot steps in the gravel made your stomach turn.
When your senses returned, hastily grabbing your boots and standing.
“Don’t you dare come near me,”
Eye contact. Your eyes filling up with unwanted tears that you refused to spill. He didn’t deserve them.
“Please don’t be like this, you don’t understand.” A step closer taking advantage of you inability to move backwards. You’re right behind the cut.
“Finn, I know enough. I was just a part of your stupid games.” Your voice cracking.
He’s frowning with his teeth sinking into his bottom lip, still advancing.
And you have nowhere to go as he wipes a stray tear from you cheek.
It takes everything in you not to just forgive him right there.
“Stop, please. I trusted you and look what you’ve done. After all those days where we’d laugh like no tomorrow and nights when you made me your own, all of it was just some sinister act in pursuit of you getting something on Father Hughes,” you stop because you don’t know what else to say. Everything entirely overwhelming.
He takes your face in his hands “If I had known I’d fall for you like I did I wouldn’t of done it. I only agreed to prove to my brothers I’m like them. That I can handle what they do. But you- you made me realise I didn’t have to prove myself to anyone. You made me feel something, feel happy. Feel like I didn’t just need them. I love you.”
The words almost break your walls down but since his betrayal, you just can’t do this all over again with him.
Shaking your head, you pull his hands away from your face, your voice steady now- “No Finn if you’d loved me you would of let me get in this deep, you would of stopped.”
A single tear falls down his cheek and it breaks your heart. Taking a deep breath you place a delicate kiss on his lips.
“Goodbye, don’t throw it away,” whispered in his ear, savouring the feel of his lips on yours and the way he always smells of mint leaves- no matter what.
Turning away with boots and coat in hand, letting all your tears fall. You loved him too but love was a fragile thing.

5

it wasn’t Connor who threw the first punch, he knew that for sure. He didn’t have time for a brawl, not when his job was on the line like this, so he sure as hell wouldn’t have been stupid enough to start one. Thankfully his reflexes were quick and he managed to block the first punch; he returned it with a full back-arm swing, bracing his wrist and feeling a few teeth dislodge beneath his knuckles. Taking advantage of the thug’s dazedness, Connor planted his foot right in the centre of his solar plexus and shoved as hard as he could, sending the man sprawling to the pavement.

Connor Rhoades was a good fighter; he’d been in brawls like this since he was in high school. And yet the next thing he knew were the ridges of knuckles colliding with his teeth, splitting the inside of his cheek. He could hear the sound of a deep chuckle through the ringing in his ears.

“Stupid dog,” the man spat. “You’re dead, and your family is next.”

Yesterday was my grandpa’s 85th birthday party and it was so awesome hearing him tell stories about his life.

Someone asked what his scariest mission was (he was in a B-52 aircrew) and he said one time the windshield cracked when they were at like 35,000-40,000 feet, he was the navigator sitting in the seat behind the pilot. The windshield cracked right down the middle in front of the pilot and he thought that was the end because if the windshield went they would all be dead at that altitude.

He also told us about his job in the Air Force, which was reading radar signals and interpreting them. He’d also jam enemy radars and they’d be up in the B-52 for like 12 hours and they would orbit Russia. It was so cool to hear about that stuff.